#he said stop! embarrassing! coach! jess!!! | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

rowansparrow · 4 years ago

Text

By Any Other Name: Chapter Three

Summary: Rex follows you to the back room of the bar to check on you, and you trade stories about what used to be.

Chapter Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: mild drinking and cursing, a bit of gambling?

Ships: Rex x Female!Reader, Fives x Female!Reader, Clone OC x Female!Reader, other ships tbd.

Tags: #ByAnyOtherName, #BAON

Word Count: 1.7k

A/N: It’s going to get much spicier after this chapter. Once again, bless @fat-zygerrian for being my beta reader!

Comment if you want to be tagged! Reblogs are SO appreciated!

Chapter One Chapter Two

You had not expected to see him again.

Of course, a part of you had been hoping you would run into him at 79’s again. But what were the chances he would be there? Stars, what were the odds he’d have even remembered your name?

You entered the bar with measured caution knowing you didn’t have your girlfriends with you this time around. Although they didn’t really offer you much in the way of moral support the last time you’d been here for a night out, it still felt so strange to come alone. You hesitated, looking around for Rose, wrapping your arms around yourself and suddenly feeling incredibly anxious when he didn’t immediately appear.

This had been a stupid idea.

You shook your head. If you were already second guessing yourself maybe it was best to just leave and save yourself the embarrassment. You turned back towards the exit quickly, ready to get out. Whatever little gods out there must have been watching over you that night, because just before you stepped through the doors, somebody crashed into you.

“Ah, kriff, sorry ma’am!” The clone chirped, careful to steady the multiple glasses in his hands as he shifted quickly around you. You recognized the handprint on the trooper’s armor. He had been one of the two men who pulled Rose away from you the night you had met.

You stood on your tiptoes, eyes trailing him to a round table pushed into the back corner of the cantina. The trooper hurried over and slid into his seat, distributing drinks and then passing one of the amber drinks to the man on his right. You recognized him too. Even from a distance, the goatee and numeric tattoo on his temple were hard to miss.

The troopers appeared to have been waiting for the replenished drinks, because as soon as the soldier with the handprint on his armor took his seat, the tattooed one immediately began dealing out cards.

You inched closer, trying to catch a glimpse of the other players while not being too obvious about it. Maybe coming here was a good idea after all...

“No, no, you dealt last hand, di’kut.” A trooper with a Republic cog tattooed on his face swatted at the other man’s hands. “It’s my turn.”

“Did not!” He protested. “Echo had the last one. Then he got drinks so now it’s my turn!”

“The entire point of me getting drinks was so you could deal while I was gone.” The one named Echo drawled.

“Quit bickering and just deal the damn cards.” Another clone griped. “Force knows I’ve already lost enough hands to Rose. Let’s get this over with!”

Your heart skipped a beat. Rose. You tried to look inconspicuous as you shifted even closer to see the rest of the table.

“Ah, don’t be such a sore loser, ‘Case. You’d have better luck with your cards if you’d stop flashing them at me half the time.”

“That’s cheating!”

“Then hold your kriffin’ cards up, vod.”

Rose’s laugh was what finally made you turn fully to face the table. He was not in full armor this time. Instead he wore armor below the belt, but the upper half of his body was just the black bodysuit the clones wore beneath the plates. The top of the suit had been unzipped slightly, showing off a triangle of Rose’s chest and what appeared to be tattoos adorning the bronze skin. Something about the tease of flesh was enough to make your mouth go dry, a more tantalizing intimacy than if he had been naked to the waist.

You suspected Rose must have sensed your staring. As the trooper's gaze shifted from his cards, those beautiful eyes of his darted directly to you. Then for a moment you froze, jaw opening and closing in a panic as you tried to think of something to say, an explanation for why you had been lurking in the shadows, just watching them.

But Rose beamed at you.

“Hey! I know you!”

The men at the table turned and you felt heat creep up into your cheeks.

“I was just – I’m sorry, I-I didn’t mean to intrude -.”

“Nah, come here! We’ve got room.” He reached over his shoulder, grabbing an empty chair from a nearby table and swinging it over effortlessly. He placed it right at his side. “Y/N, right?”

You nodded in response; your voice gone for now. He remembered your name?

“Boys, this is Y/N,” Rose waved at the men around the table. “Over there, that’s Fives and Echo.”

Echo gave you a little wave and Fives smiled, offering a small, two fingered salute.

“This is Jesse, Kix, and -.”

“Hardcase,” The trooper immediately to your right introduced himself then offered you his hand. You took it and he shook it with vigor. “You know how to play Sabacc?”

“Er.. no.”

“You’ll pick it up fast. Rose can coach you! He’s a natural.”

“That’s because he’s a strategist and cheats at cards.” Jesse mumbled, taking a long swig of his drink. Rose scrunched up his nose and flashed Jesse a little smirk. Fives then dealt the cards out to everyone and when each man had a full desk, Rose handed his cards to you.

“This here is the hand pot,” Rose explained, gesturing to a little pile of what looked like junk in front of him. “And that bigger one is the Sabacc pot. Hand winners get the hand pot and whoever wins the game overall gets the Sabacc pot. Make sense?”

You nodded, trying to follow along. “What’re you betting?” You asked, picking up a small canvas bag off the pile closest to you. You risked a glance inside and were surprised to find two hard candies.

“Contraband.” Hardcase replied conspiratorially. “Or whatever else we’ve got. Not like we’ve got credits to bet.”

“Cards up, darlin’.” Rose told you, reaching around to the back of your hand to tilt your cards back up towards your chest. Even through his glove, you could feel the heat of his palm against your knuckles. You glanced up at him and he gave you a charming little smile.

“Alright, Fives dealt.. so Jesse should lead, yeah?” Kix nodded towards the table. Rose shifted so that he was sitting slightly behind you. His arm settled around the back of your chair and he looked at the cards over your shoulder. He moved his head low, his lips just barely brushing against your ear as he spoke.

“Your goal..” Rose murmured in a voice meant only for you. “Is to not break twenty-three. Each card has a different value.”

You felt a shiver run up your spine and tried to focus on the game as Rose coached you quietly from behind. Hardcase was the first to bomb out, theatrically tossing his cards on the table in a huff. Jesse, Kix, and Echo were eliminated when none of them broke twenty. Then it came down between you and Fives.

Fives studied you from across the table, cocking one eyebrow up. He drew a card and smirked, holding his deck close to his chest.

“You’re at twenty.” Rose whispered in your ear. “If you draw anything higher than a three, you’ll bomb out. You can choose to stand and hope your hand is higher than Fives’...or you can draw.”

“What do you think?” Fives grinned while tilting his head at you. “Do you feel lucky?”

You glanced up at Rose again for guidance but he just shrugged his shoulders. You smiled, turning back to Fives.

You drew a card.

You pushed your way into the back storage room, bracing your palms against the shelves while trying to steady your breathing. You simply couldn't catch your breath; your chest squeezing tighter with every raspy inhale you attempted.

You sank down to your knees, hands steepled behind your head and curled in on yourself as you fought for air.

You briefly registered the door opening and closing again behind you. The sound of rustling of armor properly caught your attention as Captain Rex knelt down in front of you. He gently guided your hands off the back of your head.

“Breathe.” He murmured. “C’mon. In with me, out with me.”

You tried to match his breathing, tears streaking your cheeks and ruining your makeup.

“In… out.” Rex repeated, reaching up with one hand to brush your tears away.

“Don’t!” You snapped, jerking away from his hands. Rex held them up in surrender, sitting back on his heels.

“Y/N, I need you to breathe or I’m going to have to find Kix.”

You closed your eyes, trying to ground yourself. Blood pounded in your ears, and you sucked in another sharp breath.

“In… out… in… out… that’s it.”

Slowly, your breathing relaxed and you leaned back against the wall, head thunking against the durasteel.

Rex sighed and sat cross-legged opposite you. “I’m sorry. I… I shouldn’t have come.” He said softly. “I never wanted to upset you.”

“It’s not your fault.” You said finally while rubbing your hands down your face in exhaustion. “It’s just…” You took a deep breath. “Hard.”

You sat in silence together for a long time. The distant thrum of the music and shouting from the cantina was the only sound around you until Rex finally spoke.

“He was one of the few I could stand.”

You let your head loll over towards him and raised an eyebrow.

“Rose, I mean.” Rex said, looking at his hands. “I love all my brothers. But the boys in Torrent… they can be insufferable.”

You chuckled. “I can’t imagine. Fives is bad enough when he’s planet side and comes to bother me. You’re stuck with him all the time.”

“You have no idea.” Rex cracked a small smile and picked at the fabric of his glove. “Rose… he’d act like the others, sometimes. Get into mischief with Fives and Echo. Do something stupid on the field and wind up with Kix, sure. The usual stuff. But Rose…” Rex shook his head fondly, as if he was recalling some far-away memory. “Rose was kind.”

You pulled your knees up to your chest and closed your eyes. A wave of relaxation calming you as you listened to the clone Captain.

“He was the kind of soldier who the shinies would always flock to.” Rex’s voice carried through the little room and you hummed softly, picturing Rose talking to the younger bright-eyed vode fresh off Kamino.

“He’d take ‘em under his wing. Show ‘em the open bunks.. tell ‘em where to stash their gear. After their first battles, he’d be the one to sit up and talk until they fell asleep.”

You cracked an eye open upon hearing a dull thunk. Rex had shifted to lean against the wall beside you, his eyes closed too, his face relaxed as he spoke.

“He was a good kid.” Rex mumbled. “And stars... did he love you.”

“Don’t.” You whispered while shaking your head, giving him a small, sad smile. “Not… not right now.”

Rex understood and put his hand over yours in an affectionate gesture. He gave it a small, reassuring squeeze. Then he seemed to suddenly remember who he was talking to and quickly pulled his hand back. Rex cleared his throat and rose to his feet.

“So,” He grabbed his helmet off the floor then began awkwardly inching towards the door. “I’ll ah – I’ll leave you alone. Congratulations on the opening. You did good.”

He quickly left after that and you lingered in the back, staring up at the ceiling and thinking of the past.

TAG LIST: @fat-zygerrian @ladydiomede @pro-fangirls-unsocial-life @threevie @cheesemachine44 @bubblyace @fivedicksinatrenchcoat @loverofclones @starwarsgarbage @crazygirlwithasword

#ro writes #ByAnyOtherName #BAON #star wars #star wars the clone wars #tcw #the clone wars #sw #rex #Captain Rex #Rex x Reader #Captain Rex x Reader #Fives #ARC Trooper Fives #Fives x Reader #ARC Trooper Fives x Reader #Reader insert #Clone OC #OC Rose

94 notes · View notes

agentsofmarvel · 4 years ago

Text

my random kingdom keepers hc’s

⚠️ maybe spoilers & some may not be cannon ⚠️

finn

* his mom taught him to cook, so now he makes full course meals for the group.

* wanted to do the matching group outfits at disney but everyone else (except for willa) said no. he managed to convince amanda to do matching couples outfits for a date once.

* sits in his room and blasts music rlly loud when he’s upset. the music is one direction or taylor swift.

* is going to university of central floridia with a major in hospitality management or business.

* the embarrassing boyfriend (and friend) that will go to any event and scream and yell. like amanda could be presenting something and here comes finn: “THAT’S MY GIRLFRIEND!!” and tbh willa would join him.

* usually just wears a t-shirt and jeans, but when he needs to dress up, he will 110%. he’s the one the girls call when they need outfit advice.

amanda

* she was the one who chose eli’s name (kingdom kids!). she also let finn try to choose his middle name but he got stuck between wayne or dillard for weeks.

* kind of a beachy outfit/vibe. i feel like she wears a lot of hoodies with shorts and flip flops.

* likes to wear her hair in all different styles. one day it would be normal, then braids, then space buns, then it’s suddenly curly??

* usually tries to keep her emotions pretty chill, but if you try and bully her friends, she will loose it. try flirting with finn and see what happens.

* tried getting a tattoo of one of jess’ drawings once, but the thought of the needle made her turn right around.

* if she doesn’t want to be bothered, she just flips you off. deep into a book? middle finger. concentrating on schoolwork? there it is.

jess

* has a gc with maybeck called “art hoes” where they talk about drawing, sculpting, etc.

* the type of aunt that gets her nieces/nephews/other really weird and kind of dangerous gifts. like: “where did you get that?!” “oh, from aunt jess.” “of course you did.”

* got a pair of doc martens as a gift and wore them to disney for an entire day for “the aesthetic” even though she complained about her feet hurting the entire time.

* also the type to wear long-sleeves and turtlenecks under shirts in 100° weather.

* probably did the kool-aid hair dye trend in middle school and kinda regretted it.

* every time she would walk into a room someone would blast the “that’s so raven” theme song on repeat.

charlene

* tries to volunteer every weekend either at crazy glaze to spend time with maybeck or coaching a little kid’s cheer squad.

* has an amazingly good memory for really random things. like, “you can’t wear that, you wore it to disney springs last time we went.” “that was three months ago how???”

* i feel like she’s a really good baker. brownies, cakes, you name it. she leaves the cookie baking to mrs. whitman though.

* also a really good listener. would 10/10 be the group’s therapist. whatever time of day (and night) you need to talk or vent, she will pick up the phone immediately.

* maybeck sculpted her a vase with cinderella castle and fireworks on it years ago and she adores it to this day. it sits on her nightstand and is slightly faded but she doesn’t care.

* buys her friends cute things that remind her of them. she’s bought willa, jess, amanda, and herself matching necklaces and bought the boys disney pins with mickey, donald, and goofy on them.

maybeck

* had professional headshots done just because. “maybeck where are you we have an OT problem!” and he’s like, “one sec, getting my headshots done and i’ll meet you there” and they’re all “????”

* you have to drag him to go clothes shopping but then he never wants to leave and does a fashion show with each and every item he bought.

* somehow looks good in every picture? it could be blurry, from a terrible angle, and everyone else looks rlly bad, but then there’s maybeck.

* loves meeting characters. he will flip if he sees a character he really loves. “IS THAT REMY THE ***** RAT! CHARLENE WE NEED TO TAKE A PICTURE!”

* one of those people that says “me” in deep voice to everything. sees a kid trip and fall onto the ground “ME” “maybeck stop”.

* has picked up a few gymnastics tricks from charlene and will do them randomly. like, *backflips away from OT* “when did he learn that???”

willa

* 90% of her clothes are button down shirts with college pull overs and converse. she doesn’t care how warm it is.

* somehow always has a book on her. they could be in line at a park and she just pulls a book out of thin air and starts reading.

* had a harry potter phase growing up that everyone joked about. “willa you can’t that’s UNIVERSAL! you dare betray walt disney like this?!”

* for one of their anniversaries, philby buys her a new bear, this time a duffy bear, to replace mr. totems and she almost cries. every anniversary one of his gifts is a new outfit for duffy.

* goes to university of florida with philby. she’s an english language and literature major and loves going on study dates.

philby

* studying computer science at the university of florida.

* wears flannels, hoodies, or t-shirts that have really bad science-themed puns on them everyone loathes (which is mostly why he wears it).

* wants to adopt or foster tons of cats when he’s older. he was so upset he couldn’t take elvis to college.

* either listens to disney music or 80s/90s hits. there is no in-between.

* the designated bag holder while in the parks. he always has everything you could possibly need. sunscreen, bandaids, mints, hairbrushes, pencil and paper (if jess has a dream), snacks of all sizes, he’s got it all.

* super bad dancer and loves to embarrass willa. prom was just philby dancing in the middle of the dance floor terribly while willa watched shaking her head.

#kingdom keepers #kk #finn whitman #finn x amanda #amanda lockhart #jess lockhart #terry maybeck #maybeck #charlene turner #willa angelo #dell philby #disney kingdom keepers #ridley pearson

59 notes · View notes

bbychilly · 5 years ago

Text

“Can we have your son instead of you?” • Jesse Lingard

Day 5 💙

You were breaking through crowds of people in Old Trafford's tunnel with a child in your arms trying to enter the field where Jesse was waiting for you after the match. Todd was already a pretty heavy boy, considering he was already 4 years old, but in such a crowd, it was safer to carry him in your arms.

“Oh, sorry” you muttered as you bumped into someone.

“Hey, (Y/N)” you raised your head to a familiar accent.

“Oh, Marcus, hello.” He took your hand and helped you out of the crowd. “Thanks.”

“Jesse’s waiting for you on the field. Hi Todd” the boy smiled and high fived to Uncle Marcus. “I already told Jesse, but I suppose I might as well tell you. Tonight I need you to come to my house. Or better to say to my garden. I have a surprise.” He smiled sweetly and you hugged him and thanked him for the invitation.

The field was only a couple of steps, so you lowered Todd to the ground. He ran to dad, who was sitting with his back to him on the lawn and dumped him on the grass, laughing merrily.

“Oh, I’ve been waiting for you” Jesse laughed, getting up from the ground and kissing you on the cheek.

“And if it wasn’t for Marcus, you would have been waiting for us even longer. How do you like our little red devil? Todd, turn around” you said and the boy turned his back, showing the name and number on his back.

“Why did you choose Uncle Marcus’ number?”

“Because I want to score goals!” Todd shouted cheerfully, kicking the ball as far as possible.

“Well, then let's play” Jesse handed you the phone and ran to his son.

They loved scoring goals, but today Jesse taught Todd how to tackle and win duels, but the boy didn’t like it at all. He claimed that he wanted to be an attacker and all he had to be able to do was score goals and dribble.

“Alright, Mr. Todd Lingard, show me how you can dribble” Jesse rolled the ball to him and prepared to defend the goal.

Todd easily ran past daddy and powerfully, as for his age, shot on goal. You clapped your hands and Jesse was slightly taken aback.

“You were just lucky, come on again” he rolled the ball to his son again and set about defending the goal again. This time, Todd made an even more beautiful skill and shot as high as possible, as a four-year-old child can. The boy giggled and continued dribbling. You were a little shocked, because you didn’t know that your son has such a talent.

“I am pleasantly surprised” you turned to the voice and saw Ole Gunnar-Solskjaer “Good afternoon, (Y/N).”

“Good afternoon” you were a little embarrassed, but at the same time you were proud of your kid.

“Wow” Todd stopped and literally began staring at Ole. “Ole Gunnar-Solskjaer...” the boy whispered. “A legend...”

“Don’t embarrass me” Ole smiled at the boy and held out his hand. “Let's get to know your name, mine you already know, so, what’s your name?”

“Todd. Todd Lingard” he corrected himself.

“I liked the way you play, Todd. I’m happy to meet you. Can you show what else you can do?”

The boy nodded and ran after the ball. Jesse came up to you and put a hand on your waist. Ole, in all seriousness, advised him to take the kid to the Manchester United Academy, because he saw the talent in this child. You promised to think seriously.

“Daddy!” Todd called dad to help him show his abilities. “I’ll play against you, but you don’t give in, okay?”

“Of course” Jesse didn’t show, but he was very proud of his son.

Todd made a few tricks, after which he shot through the goal. Once he even nutmegged dad, making everyone laugh except Jesse.

“You’re a very talented boy, Todd” Ole squatted beside the child and patted his head.

“I’ll try to become even better. I want to score as many goals for Manchester United as you scored.”

These words caused a smile on the coach’s face and he slightly hugged a boy.

“Can we have your son instead of you, Jesse?” he joked.

“Maybe instead of Marcus” Lingard giggled. “Todd wants to be a striker, so the replacement is already growing.”

You all laughed and Todd was still looking with admiring eyes at Ole. He couldn’t believe that he had just spoken to the legend of his beloved club.

When you went to Marcus’, Todd silently looked out the window, frowning slightly. You gestured to Jesse to make the music quieter and you turned to your son. “Sweetheart, are you okay?”

“Yes mom. I just think that I really want to play for Man United Academy, but there are so many talented boys around. I guess I have no chance.”

“Hey baby” Jesse smiled. “Ole said that you have talent, so you need to believe in yourself. You need to work hard and continue to believe in yourself, okay?”

“Do you want dad to show you some skills that might come in handy?” you said affectionately.

“I do!” Todd perked up a bit.

“And we can ask Marcus to help” Jesse turned into his friend’s yard and stopped. “He will definitely want to help you.”

“I would really like to train with you both” the boy muttered, crawling out of the car.

You took his hand and you both went after Jesse. “Work hard and believe in yourself” Todd repeated to himself. “I will work hard. I will believe in myself”

tags: @luc-57x @alexajanecollins @riccivrdo @cam-blog98 @sanchos-dream @englandfranceteam715 @meerakiii

#baby series #jesse lingard #jesse lingard imagine #jesse lingard imagines #baby series: jesse lingard

100 notes · View notes

peeterparkr · 5 years ago

Text

limits of desire⤳t.h.||8

chapter 8: buy your wedding dress

story summary: you met Tom a night he was trying to sleep with you, it didn’t work and you became best of friends. Wedding bells might be ringing for when you both realize what you really feel.

summary:the one when the wrong choice maybe is the right one

pairing: fuckboy!tom holland x best friend!reader

warnings: swearing,miguel, lizzie being lizzie , didn’t proof read, wedding dresses, lizzie again

word count: 5.4k

previous chapter

next chapter

series masterlist

wanna be tagged?

If we speak in correct terms, using dictionaries and other sensible things, we would reach the following conclusion, jealousy means: feeling or showing envy of someone or their achievements and advantages.

Let's put Tom in that equation, he was a) feeling it and b) showing envy of what Miguel had achieved.

Yes, we can conclude that Tom was jealous. More than jealous. He felt that at any moment he was going to explode.

Y/N and Miguel were kissing at the airport entrance. Tom was frowning as he tried not to stare. He clenched his jaw as he drummed his fingers against the wheel. Anna, y/n’s mom, was in the back of the car, along with Lizzie.

“They’re adorable,” Anna commented.

No, they were gross, thought Tom.

“He’s super dreamy,” Lizzie admitted. “Ain’t he, Tom? Or are you breaking any rules by saying that?”

Tom rolled his eyes and glared at her through the mirror, while Lizzie showed him a smirk.

“Oh my god, she’s seeing him in two weeks, please,” Tom murmured as the couple kept devouring each other. Tom wrinkled his face and stuck his tongue out in disgust. “Besides, who comes to London only for two days?”

Even if he were in that place, he wouldn’t be eating her like that. Not on public at least. And he would be gentle. For once in his life. Of course, he’d show her whatever she wanted him to show her. Not that that mattered, but at least, he knew he would. Her lips were like rose petals, delicate and pink.

“Please, you’d be the same if you were dating anyone,” Lizzie laughed at her comment. “Ha, as if you could date anyone, right?”

Tom turned his head and glared at her. “Wouldn’t you love that.”

Anna was laughing. “Okay, c’mon.”

Tom smiled at Anna and chuckled dryly. “Seriously, Miss Y/L/N, sorry-sorry, Anna,” Tom laughed. “Your daughter has been there kissing him for about 15 minutes, he’s got a plane to catch, doesn’t he?”

Anna laughed and nodded. “Yes, he does,” she agreed as she rolled down her window. “Y/N, sweetheart, you’ve got your appointment and he’s got a plane, hurry my dear!”

y/n stopped kissing Miguel and turned to her mother with utter embarrassment, as her fiancé chuckled against her forehead.

“I love you,” Miguel said, with a gentle voice.

Tom turned around to rub his face with stress.

“I love you more, amor mío,” Y/N said, giving him one last kiss. “My fiance!” She chirped and kissed him again before walking back to the car. He blew her a kiss, waving goodbye before walking in to the airport.

y/n coughed jumping into the car, coughing awkwardly. She had the brightest smile on her face and her rosy cheeks were proving her to be just as happy. She cleared her throat. “So,” she buckled up, as she giggled. “Let’s go… We have a dress fitting…” Everybody was quiet. “Uh, does anybody have chapstick? Chapstick? Thanks, Tom,” she said as Tom handed it over. “So, well, call Hannah and Jess, tell them we’ll see them there.

Anna smiled. “Yes, darling, and your grandma will also be there.”

“Why-why do I have to go, again?” Tom asked, as he started the car. A part of him wasn’t sure that he wanted to see her trying on a dress in which she wouldn’t be marrying him with. He didn’t want to do anything to do with this wedding, except of course, stopping it.

“You’re the Maid of honour,” y/n reminded him. “And please, it’ll be like we always do, like when we go shopping. You’ve got good taste.”

“He is scared of breaking any rules,” Lizzie snickered.

“You shouldn’t be going either, Liz, are you sure you’re not getting your hopes up just by being with me on the car?” Tom snapped back.

Liz was about to yell, but y/n shushed them angrily. “Guys, please, please, not today, okay? Behave! I want…. I want to be happy today, please?”

Tom and Lizzie frowned but nodded.

“Sorry,” Tom apologized to y/n. “And sorry Anna, because Lizzie here doesn’t know how to behave.”

Lizzie glared, but y/n chuckled, rolling her eyes. It was going to be a long day.

“Hey, have you got plans tomorrow?” Y/N asked Tom.

“No, why?” Tom glanced over at her, she was biting her lip and playing with her fingers.

“I’ll…. Tell you later,” she said before looking away.

Hannah, Jess and Lizzie couldn’t just shut up. They had met y/n’s grandma’s there as well, they had arrived just in time for the dress fitting.

Tom walked through the bridal shop and stared at the different white dresses. He didn’t quite understand how it worked, she’d needed to try on thousands of them.

Y/N was talking to another woman and looked so radiant while doing so, her smile was delicate and strong while she just stared at the different dresses. She was explaining to her the idea of her ideal dress.

With any dress, she’d look beautiful, Tom knew that. It didn’t matter what kind of dress she could choose.

Tom had done some research on dresses, from heart shaped, mermaid, trumpet, a-line. But he barely had any idea of it, he had always avoided all subjects of marriage. But he had always listened. He knew everything that y/n wanted for her wedding, from the flowers to her dress. Princess like.

“Like Cinderella at the ball.”

That was what she had always wanted.

He walked through the white gowns as he had his eyes fixed on y/n. She turned to him and dedicated him a small, insecure smile.

Suddenly, her friends tormented her and all showed her dresses they wanted. Tom watched how y/n just took a step back. She was overwhelmed with the attention.

Tom received a call.

“What up, Haz?” He answered with trouble.

“How’s the dress fitting going?” Haz asked.

“Well, no dresses yet, I’m… honestly, man, I can’t see her trying on dresses to marry someone else,” Tom admitted. “I want to leave.”

“No, no, here’s the plan buddy, you show her your support, everything she wants you have to say yes, but try and show her you’re the one who knows her, you are the one who supports her. Show her some dresses.”

“I can’t support a wedding I don’t agree with,” Tom snapped.

“Then make her see this is all bullshit!”

“Gosh, she was basically eating him when we left him at the airport, bloody Mr. Perfect,” Tom said with disgust, as y/n waved at him to come over. “She looks so pretty.”

“Tom, focus, we’ve got a wedding to ruin, man,” Haz reminded him. “Now, so, she told me she wanted to learn how to dance before going to Mexico, and she booked lessons and they start tomorrow, she asked me to go with her, but there’s that plan, I told her you should be her partner.”

Tom stared at y/n and grinned. Dancing, that was one of his strengths. “Right, so I’ll have to be her partner.”

“I’m glad you can use those brain cells to think,” Haz laughed. “So, we’re gonna steal the bride.”

“We’re gonna steal the bride,” Tom repeated with a smirk, y/n was going to approach him. Tom cleared his throat. “Yeah, yeah, so, I’ll clean up my mess Haz, I’m not that terrible of a roommate.”

“Wha-?”

“Bye, Haz!” Tom hung up the phone and smiled at Y/N. “Hey,” he smirked.

“Hey, so… Okay, come over, I need your help.” She asked him. “You were… speaking to Haz?”

Tom cleared his throat. “Yeah, I left some… underwear on the coach,” Tom lied with a smile. Y/N wrinkled her nose and rolled her eyes with a snicker.

“Please, come, I need some reason before they all attack me,” Y/N begged.

“Ah, but I know shit about wedding dresses,” Tom laughed as he pulled back some of her hair off her face, making her blush. “I just know you’ll look beautiful anyway.”

“But you’re always my shopping buddy so I need you,” Y/N said, blushing. “And besides I know you won’t be biased by how you want your wife to be dressed as, honestly, they’re all trying to make me wear their ideal wedding dress, but you don’t believe in marriage, so it’s fine! You’ll help me choose with an objective point of view.”

Tom felt like he had just been stabbed right on his heart, as he stared at her.

“Who says I don’t believe in marriage?” He asked with a gentle voice, as he caressed her cheek, she cleared her throat and stepped back.

“You did, silly,” She coughed. “Now, please, just…”

She took him by his hand and dragged him over, to the wedding planner, the saleswoman and all her friends.

“Oh, brides usually don’t bring along the groom,” The saleswoman commented. Tom smirked, and Y/N burst out in laughter, with her face as red as the lipstick she was wearing.

“He’s not my boy-bride-groom...fiancé, he’s my maid of honour,” she said embarrassed, to which the lady apologised.

They offered them all Bellini’s, to which everyone accepted, and Tom ordered just plain champagne. He wasn’t ready to see her walking out in a white dress. It wasn’t going to be easy, after all, because he was not the groom. And besides, he didn’t like the concept of marrying. Of course, his parents had had a successful marriage but he had learned about many which hadn’t been that successful. He didn’t want to share his luck. Sure, he wanted a relationship with y/n, especially now. But he didn’t know how further he could take it.

“Which ones did she choose?” Hannah asked. “Ugh, I can’t wait to see her.”

“Hope she wears the one I chose,” Lizzie commented. “She’ll look pretty in that one.”

“She’ll look beautiful anyway,” Tom commented. Anna smiled at him as she nudged her mother. Y/N’s grandmother was the most excited to be there.

“Can you believe she’s getting married?” Hannah asked. “Gosh, and she seems to be all over the moon.”

“You know, we can’t blame her, if she loved the wrong one with such passion, I can only imagine how she’s loving the right one,” Lizzie pointed out.

Tom glared at her.

“And how are we sure he’s the one?” Tom cleared his throat.

“Maybe you don’t believe in it, Tom,” Lizzie frowned. “But he is.”

“And you’re one to know about finding the one, huh?” Tom frowned.

“And you? You’re one to talk, too,” Lizzie said. “Aren’t you happy for her?”

Tom had to stop. He looked down. “I—of course, all I want in life is for y/n to be loved, and happy.”

And he meant it. He wanted her to be the happiest she’d ever been, and he wanted her to be loved forever. And he was going to prove that to her.

But he guessed that he had to accept the fact that if she was happier with Miguel, then he’d back away. He needed to be certain that she loved Miguel more than she could ever love Tom. Tom needed to be certain that Miguel was going to love her more than Tom ever could. But he was certain that Miguel simply couldn’t love her even just a third part of what Tom loved y/n.

Because Tom was willing to leave everything for y/n. His life, his dreams. She was his dream. And he was also willing to sacrifice his love for her if it meant y/n would be better. That didn’t mean, however that he wouldn’t fight for her. He sensed it in his heart, that they belonged together.

Maybe Tom didn’t really believe in soulmates, but if there was something even remotely close to it, he knew y/n was his.

They kept chatting between them and Tom was walking behind their chairs. He was staring down at the floor, staring at his shoes. Mentally preparing himself to see her.

Tom kept wondering about it, how much it would hurt to sacrifice his dreams for her, or sacrifice his love for her happiness. He’d have to turn around, with the sun.

He needed a kiss. He knew that a kiss would prove to her just how much they belonged together, how synchronized their hearts were. How linked their souls were, how with each smile their hearts would leap in a whirl.

However, he also knew he had to get back to his senses. Wishing only wounds hearts. Maybe he was dreaming it too much. And maybe he wasn’t supposed to be wishing it.

The chatting suddenly stopped, and Tom just lifted his head to realize that even if he had prepared for seeing this for years, he wouldn’t still be ready.

He saw her with a beautiful white gown that circled her body perfectly, she looked like a princess, it just was the match for her. He stared at her with awe, and his jaw dropped. He felt his heart wanting to jump out of his chest. And suddenly, Tom wasn’t as scared of weddings as he had been before. He suddenly wished to be the groom with a tux, waiting for her to walk down the aisle with the beautiful ballgown she was wearing. He saw it. He saw the complete scene. Music playing in the background, him taking a deep breath as she would stare at him. Maybe he’d shed a tear, for the drama. He saw the people smiling at him, and he saw her mother walking her down the aisle.

And he knew that she was his dream, that it made sense to be in love with her. He was certain that he needed to fight for it.

She gulped as she smiled. She shyly walked to the mirrors, and her mother shed a few tears. Hannah chipped and awed.

Y/N walked to the pallet and stared at her reflection in the mirror. “Oh my god.”

Tom felt the sweat across his face, as he tried to gain back his composure. His mouth was still open.

Y/N turned around with a smile. “So?”

“Wow,” he muttered. He blinked and shook his head back into reality.

“Hmm, nope, not the one,” Liz was the first to talk. Tom glared at her.

“What?” Tom asked. “Are you bloody mental? She looks perfect!”

Hannah chuckled. “She does, but…”

Y/N pursed her lips. “Yeah, I’m not convinced either, but hey, it’s a good start, huh? Gets me in the mood,” Y/N agreed with her friends. Tom grimaced. He didn’t understand what was wrong with the dress.

“I can’t believe my granddaughter is getting married,” her grandma said.

“Aww, nana,” y/n smiled, bringing her hands to her heart.

“I always thought you’d marry…” And Nanna didn’t finish her sentence, but everyone was staring at Tom. He cleared his throat as he drank from his glass.

“So, okay, I’ll keep on trying on some others,” Y/N said. She glanced over at Tom.

Tom didn’t know how many dresses she tried, but he loved them all. Every time he saw her stepping out with a new dress he had to take a moment to breathe. Every time she stepped out, Tom added a flower, or a new guest to the imaginary wedding he was playing on his head.

But it became… boring, or tiring for a while because none of the dresses were suiting or pretty or not big or whatever the girls were making excuses out of it. They’d give out a “yes but…”

“Maybe try a pink one.”

“Maybe a mermaid tail.”

“A short dress, maybe?”

“Try it without the veil.”

And y/n was just losing it. She wasn’t even enjoying it anymore. Tom saw it. Her eyes getting teary. But she took a deep breath and smiled at her friends and family.

She walked back into her dressing room and Tom followed after.

The saleswoman tried to stop him but Tom shook his head, raising his hand.

“Hey, y/n…”

She didn’t answer. The saleswoman tried to stop him but Tom shook his head.

“Y/N?”

He heard her take a deep breath. “Yeah?”

“Can I come in?” He asked. “Are you okay?”

“I—yeah, I’m okay—I”

“Y/N?”

Tom sighed, the door was slightly open. He opened it slowly to reveal a y/n, on the floor hugging her knees. She was crying.

Tom sat beside her and wrapped an arm around her, she leaned against him. She curled up to him.

“It’s okay,” he assured her.

She bit her lip. “It’s just too overwhelming.”

Tom looked at her. “Hey, no, it’s just another dress,” he reminded her.

She frowned. “No, it’s not.”

Tom closed his eyes. “I don’t mean it that way, what I mean,—“

“What you mean is that you don’t care about this.”

“I care more than you think.”

Y/n rolled her eyes. “You haven’t said anything about any dress.”

Tom sighed. “I know.”

“And I know you don’t care for weddings—“

“I care about you, y/n,” Tom said, seriously. He had turned stiff. “And I care so much.”

Y/N shrugged. “You don’t understand this.”

“What I understand is that you’ve walked out with a bunch of dresses that you didn’t choose yourself,” Tom reminded her. “You’ve looked beautiful in every single one of them, but I know that none of them are you.”

“They chose them for me.”

“but don’t listen to them, this is for you, alright?”

“They don’t like any.”

“Why do they have to have a saying? it’s you, your day, and you will look beautiful no matter what, you could dress with a white hoodie on your wedding day and you’d still look perfect.”

Y/n looked up. “Tom.”

“I’m serious, everything you’ve walked out with is perfect,” Tom said. “You’re breathtaking, y/n.”

Y/n sighed. “Can I do this?”

“Are you having second thoughts?” Tom asked with hope.

Y/n looked down. “I—“

And even if Tom wanted to make her think straight so he could get her to not marry the douchebag, he knew that his friend would rather appreciate his support.

“Y/N, you don’t have to please anyone,” Tom reminded her. “This is you, this has to be for you. And I know this is too hard for you because you keep doing what everyone expects you to do,” Tom said. “And trust me, no matter what you do, you’re still going to excel at it, just like you did with the dresses, but if you want to look perfect with your dress,” Tom continued. “You have to choose it yourself.”

“I—“

“I know you enough to know you wanted to look like Cinderella,” he reminded her. “But it won’t matter unless you’re a hundred per cent sure.”

Y/N looked him in the eyes. “Tom—“

“Actually, you know what? In the end, y/n, the dress doesn’t matter,” Tom explained.

Y/n frowned. “Tom I don’t need you telling me that you don’t believe in weddings.”

“I want you to think about it, close your eyes,” he said as he placed his fingers on her temples. She frowned but did as told. “Imagine this… you’re getting ready, you have your red lipstick on, your mother is gently arranging some loose strays of hair and you’re breathing in and out.”

Y/N nodded as she listened, relaxing against his touch.

“Someone walks in, hands you your flowers, which on the last moment were changed,” he continued as she frowned.

“But why—“

“Listen, y/n, they apologize for the inconvenience of the flowers, but says the words, ‘it’s time’…and you’re holding your flowers tightly, you’re angry because your hair is probably not fixed enough,” he continued. “And suddenly the music starts, and it probably sounds awfully—“

“Tom, why are you—“

“Sh, sh, and they open the door, you’re walking out with that gown you chose, that maybe wasn’t the one you wanted but you kept listening to your friends.”

“I don’t—“

“Sh—but it doesn’t matter, or does it? Because you’re walking in to be received by…” Tom gulped. “By him, the love of your life, not just any other guy you met, it’s him, he who doesn’t care about what dress you chose, he who doesn’t know a thing about flowers, and in all honestly couldn’t care less. He who knows what you’re thinking before your thoughts even come to your mind. He who is the answer to all of your questions. Does it matter?”

Y/N stayed quiet.

“Because maybe you’ve been planning this day all your life, y/n, and it probably will be ruined a million times, what Can go wrong, will go wrong, but it won’t matter because he loves you, blue or red flowers, good music or bad music, this dress or the other one. Because he sees the you inside of you and he couldn’t be happier, and you know you couldn’t be luckier. And he says it: I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you, and you believe him, because you couldn’t imagine your life without him.”

Y/N opened her eyes, slowly. She turned to look directly into his eyes, venturing through them. He sensed that he had just planted a thought on her.

“And then you realize that it never mattered. Because you knew how the right person makes everything else perfect,” Tom whispered.

Y/N gulped. She fidgeted with the veil that was on top of her head. “Thank you.”

“Now I need you to smile, alright? The world needs your smile right now, I need it, okay? And I want you to walk out in a dress where you see yourself marrying the love of your life, alright?”

She kissed his cheek. “Thank you.”

Tom stood up and helped her up. She immediately pulled him into a hug. Tom held her tight. He knew it, before everything. He was her best friend and at that moment she needed him as a best friend. Not as the guy who was deeply in love with her

But he loved her. He knew that he was supposed to be the person that after everything, makes everything feel alright. No matter how many things could go wrong, he knew that y/n would make it turn out right.

“I do believe in marriage, y/n,” he whispered. “I do believe in someone special who makes everything turn la vie en rose.”

Y/N gulped.

“Does he make you feel that way?” Asked Tom. “Does he turn everything right even when it’s wrong?”

Y/N didn’t answer, she just stared at him.

“Think about it, y/n, maybe you’re just trying to blame it on the dress,” Tom said condescendingly.

Y/N frowned. “What? No, no! He is… He is the right choice.”

Tom sighed. “Then you shouldn’t have any problem with the dress.”

Y/N let him go. “Right, right.”

Tom walked out, as the saleswoman made her way back into her dressing room. Y/N gave one last stare at him before telling her the exact dress she wanted.

“Is she okay?” Asked Lizzie as soon as Tom stepped back into the room.

“I’m going to ask you all a favour,” Tom started.

“What can you--”

“Liz, can you please? For y/n? For the first time ever, this isn’t about you,” Tom said.

“And not about you, either,” Liz added.

Tom didn’t even glare at her. “We have y/n back in there,” Tom explained. “Tears in her eyes,” Tom said, making Hannah, Jess and Lizzie all gasp. “I understand that she wanted to feel like Cinderella, but you girls don’t have to be her bloody stepsisters tearing her apart, ‘right?”

The three friends look down ashamed. With the little hope was having he stared at them.

“He’s right,” Anna agreed. “Y/N hasn’t smiled the way she should, and it’s her wedding dress, for God’s sake, she should be feeling perfect!”

“Yes,” Tom added. “And please show some support for the next dress, even if you don’t like it, it’s… her happiness before everything, alright?”

They all agreed. Tom guessed he was telling that to himself, too. That whatever happened, it was bigger to see her happy.

Y/N walked out, unsteady and insecure with each step. But it seemed different this time, because right now she looked radiant. Uneasy, but happy. They all had to stop what they were doing to take in all of her brightness. It was perfect, no flaws. Y/N looked down with a sublime smile, and as she walked closer the light hit her in the perfect spot, as if their whole surrounding had darkened just to get her her own spotlight. Even other people from the bridal shop had to stop to look at her. The wedding dress was simply perfect. It was a princess cut, big dress cascading down, with a heart-shaped neckline, that sparkled around her skin as if she was just covered with a magical fabric, that was loosely but brightly shining over her neck. Stars were gleaming on her. Diamonds.

Tom had to sit down, as he tried to breathe again. He looked at her with wonder and excitement and awe. It was made for her.

And suddenly, even if Tom hadn’t asked her friends to support her, he knew they would’ve. There was no way that they wouldn’t have loved it because it was made for her.

Tom blacked out, in a certain way. Because he didn’t listen to all the compliments, the tears, or the clapping, He only stared at her. It was her and only her. Nothing else mattered.

He didn’t know when he came back to reality, and he wasn’t sure what face he was making.

“Do you… do you like it?” Y/N asked him.

Tom shook his head and blinked. “Wha--?” Tom gulped. “Yeah, yeah, you...look perfect,” he whispered. He didn’t have any words, or not any that he could say out loud. He wanted her more than want, he loved her more than love. And he couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

Y/N blushed as she looked down. She took a deep breath as she stared at herself. “I… I think this is the one.”

“Does this matter, y/n?” Lizzie asked with sadness. “I mean, you look beautiful….But.”

Hannah stepped in. “Weren’t you going to wear his mom’s dress?”

They all stayed quiet. Y/N didn’t answer.

And it turned blue. All the splendour and joy the dress had brought was gone. Y/N just smiled sadly.

“I… well, it’s good to dream, isn’t it? Maybe I can…” She looked down. “I can convince them so I can wear this one.”

-----

Y/N ended up with Tom. She had asked him to drive wherever. Tom was driving to the bakery. Whenever they were happy, whenever they were sad, whenever they had an argument or whenever they needed to celebrate. The bakery was their own little corner.

She had been quiet, and Tom needed she had to be quiet. She was processing everything.

“Aren’t you…. Aren’t you going to say anything?” She finally asked.

Tom eyed her. “You want me to say something?”

“I… I dunno,” she gulped. “You’re always saying something… And lately, you haven’t.”

Tom gulped. “Yeah, yeah, I guess.”

“I… what did you really think about the dress?” She turned to him.

Tom shrugged. “You want me to say what I really think? Or you want me to say what you need to hear?”

Y/N frowned. “Where’s all that honesty?”

Tom shrugged.

“You’re always honest, Tom,” Y/N added. “Who’s this new Tom Holland?”

Tom shrugged. He parked. “One that’s had many realizations.”

Y/N grinned as she looked up at the bakery. “Gosh, haven’t been here in ages,” she chuckled. Tom watched her with a big smile.

The bakery was rather alone, they sat down and stared at the menu. “ I want to taste everything.”

Tom chuckled. “But I think I know just the thing for you, you need to try the new Strawberry rhubarb tart,”

Y/N chuckled and blinked. “How did you know--I was--?”

Tom smirked. “I know you, y/n, it’s like you’ve forgotten everything we are, and everything we will be.”

Y/N chuckled. “Time away changes us,” she reminded him. “But hey, I know just what you want,” she grinned. “Crown… apple fudge brownies!”

Tom laughed. “You know, I actually realized something.”

“What?” She blinked.

“I think we don’t exactly guess what the other wants,” Tom admitted.

She gasped. “How could you--!”

“No, no, hear me out, I think we just order whatever we secretly want to try,” Tom grinned.

Y/N bit her lip, giggling to herself. “Nah, I’d like to keep the idea that we know each other that well.”

“That sounds better, doesn’t it?” He grinned. “Reading each other minds. Knowing our thoughts before we even think of them.”

Y/N gulped. “Right.”

Tom watched her. The waitress arrived just in time. They ordered for each other. And their respective tea and coffee, with cream.

“I missed this,” Tom admitted.

Y/N smiled sadly. “I will miss this,” she muttered.

Tom frowned. “Hey, I’ll be around,” he chuckled. “If you let me, of course.”

She gulped. “Tom, It’s complicated…”

Tom sighed. “Do you really want me to tell you my thoughts on today?”

Y/N nodded. “Yes, that’s the least you could do.”

Tom took a deep breath. This was a chance, but it didn’t feel like the right moment.

“Most of them were awful,” he said. “Some of them were tacky, especially Lizzie’s choices,” Tom wrinkled his nose, making y/n laugh. “But you somehow made it perfect, no matter how ugly the dress was, you looked stunning, breathtaking, beautiful,” he continued. “But your friends… your friends were awful,” Tom whispered. “But… that just… That one last dress,” he threw his head back. “Y/N, I’ve never been more honest, you looked perfect, the moment you walked out of that dressing room, I… I lost it, y/n,” he looked into her eyes and reached for her hand. “Like an angel, like...it was perfect. You need to wear that dress, not any other.”

Y/N had to pause, he squeezed her hand. It was as if she didn’t want to listen to him, because she knew he was right.

“But you said it doesn’t matter,” y/n reminded him.

“Yet it does,” Tom muttered.

The waitress placed their desserts in front of them. Y/N let his hand go. Tom wanted to make it clear, Y/N had made a big mistake.

They remained slightly quiet for the rest of their meal, sharing their desserts.

Tom didn’t know how it had gone, honestly. They ended up tired, plopped on his couch, with her complaining about the cold weather. They were back at his place, as Tom was completely defeated.

Y/N had started rambling for about 20 minutes, and started walking around the sofa, Tom didn’t say anything but he was missing her warm body so he just stared at her and listened. She was talking, and talking and talking about how awful the day had gone, and how she couldn’t stand Lizzie, Hannah and Jess right now. The day was supposed to be happy, and they had just made it the worst. She then talked about the many things she had to get done before leaving to Mexico, how she had a lot to plan and barely had any time.

“Y/N, things will become better,” Tom interrupted her rambling. She stopped and chuckled.

“Thanks. Thanks, Tom, I… sorry, this is just… overwhelming,” she apologized. stayed quiet and spent the night listening to her.

They were catching up, playing games, drinking some beers. Just Tom and y/n happy again. She didn’t leave for the night, she had fallen asleep on Tom’s arms on the couch as they ended up watching Notting Hill, and Tom couldn’t help but think and imagine that if only he could wake up this way this morning. 3 words so easy to write, so easy to think, so hurting to feel, and damn, so damn difficult to say.

previous chapter next chapter

series masterlist

wanna be tagged?

tag list @clairesrainbow @desirableprey @fairydustparker @newlove-neweverything @ymeradonnadx @underoosmarvel @tomhollandlovebot @its-the-unknownspidey @savethebabyseals @hermionedeservesbetterthanron @tomhaz @wronglanemendes @itsvianny @jake-and-amy-are-married @starlightfound @tiredfeels @thespiderdweeb @kill-the-stereo @thequeensardine @originalpinkpowerranger @spidxrparkxr @anxiousdesignerdancerbandlover @organicpurplepants @happywolves81 @nedthegay @skylar-mendes @emma-worthington @redwhitenbucky @cartiertom @elefthavraam @sentimentalquackson @savannah0111 @vibhati123 @imagine-that-100 @lunagreenwood @hollandhearts @bluparis @badhollandfluff @myspideysensesrtingling @spidermansmj14 @soccerstud004 @marinaabernardii @applenter @silver-winter-wolf @dark-infernal-instruments @claredolphinbear24 @bookgirlunicorn @tomshufflepuff @avengersgirllorianna @alwaysbenhardysgirl @saintlavrents @herofiennestiffinashardinscott. @almostrosadiazz @tonystark-mcu @tomzfrog @tohollandback @morganhoran1671 @awkwardfangirl2014 @spideysimpossiblegirl @everythingbooknerd @xapham @parkerswebhead @afilmbypeterparkr @xxtomxo @gioandreolli @tomhollandisagod @danicarosaline @laurfangirl424 @vintageroses1014516 @cinnamon-roll-peter @the-lost-fairy-tale @lala-florez @fufaation15 @healthyassdonut @ilcveyou3000 @xxtomxo @socorroann @muffinmari25 @cassindeansass @rogers-obsessed-barnes-curious @southsidespidey @nathaliabakes @hollandslut @marvelstuck @embrace-themagic @bradfordbantams @sanniegirl1214 @gioandreolli @peterpandco @fairytaleparker @underooling @griff1ndor @chubby-cheek-calum @thatweirdomimic @avengersgirllorianna @reginalaufeyson-holmes @better-daisy @yeahimcrying @allmonstersxarehuman @spider-manholland @clairesrainbow @georiaang @sebxstianbarnes @kissingtrutharchives @snoopy3000 @prettymessygurl @spideyparkerstark @fanfic-4-you @lexshead

264 notes · View notes

michaels-blackhat · 5 years ago

Text

and I’m on the bleachers

so, i’ve been very vocal about my love for @aewriting‘s All Kinds of Time. Since it’s my birthday, I wrote a self-indulgent remix for a ‘verse I love because I can. Enjoy.

He’s sitting in the stands in the Roswell section, nestled between Maria and Liz, dressed all in black. Michael wonders if he’s high or drunk, or something, because he’s never seen him at a game before, it’s so not his scene, and not only that… it looks like he’s having fun. He’s smiling, pointing things out on the field, and oh holy shit…

He’s looking right at him. He’s grinning.

In the sea of red and white, the three of them stuck out. Maria constantly in as many colors as she could be, Alex in his usual black, and Liz looking the most like she should be at a high school football game though still lacking in school spirit. The three of them looked out towards the field with varying levels of incomprehension on their faces.

“Ok, I have no idea what’s going on,” Maria whispered into Alex’s ear as she wormed her way into his personal space. It was cold at night, but that still hadn’t stopped Maria from choosing a flowing skirt and a tie-dyed sleeveless shirt. Alex wrapped his arms around her, eyes still fixated on the field.

“We’re on third down and the likelihood of them getting a first down is bad,” Liz replied from the other side of Alex.

“Maybe when Kyle was starting the likelihood was bad,” Alex replied as he, and Maria by virtue of his hug, knocked into Liz’s shoulder. “But with Guerin playing, I say we have a very good chance.” His smirk was audible, but he kept his face neutral as he gazed at the field. Maria giggled into his shoulder.

Liz smacked him in the shoulder, but didn’t say anything to refute him.

“So,” Maria said as they gazed out onto the field, not particularly paying attention, “when are you and Guerin gonna happen?”

“Maria,” Alex gasped. “Don’t say that so loud!” He looked around at the people in the bleachers, but almost all of his usual tormentors were on the field.

“Please, everyone can see Guerin’s massive crush on you. The only time he’s stood up to those assholes wasn’t when they made fun of him, but when they went for you.”

They both kept who the them was, but the unspoken ‘Valenti’ was still heard. Liz gazed on ahead, either ignoring the conversation or genuinely invested in the game. Really, it was probably the latter. She knew Kyle could be a bully, but whatever he showed her and what he did to Alex by himself were two wildly different things.

“I see him in the halls, sometime, and it always seems like he’s making his way towards me and then Isobel or Max Evans is always there intercepting him.” Maria had made a derisive snort at Isobel’s name, but she kept quiet as Alex continued. “It’s not like I can just walk up to him now. There’s always someone around him. They finally laid off me, I’m not about to remind them how much they love making me their punching bag.”

“As if Guerin would ever let that happen,” Liz said, finally turning away from the field. “And you guys just missed Guerin make an amazing throw.”

“Wait, really?” Maria said, facing the field again. “Ugh, how can you tell who is who? Why don’t they have names on their jerseys?”

“Because our school can’t afford new uniforms every year.”

“I can’t tell him apart without the mop of curls,” Maria said as she looked at the mass of high school boys on the field.

“He’s right there,” Alex said. He pointed towards the field, wide smile on his face. “Kinda walking towards us right now.”

“Oh,” Maria said, “you mean basically just staring at you?”

“He is not!” Alex blushed.

“He so is,” Liz giggled, as Michael took off his helmet, eyes glued to them. “So, Alex. How could you tell it was him?”

“It’s the ass,” Maria answered before Alex could. “It’s totally the ass.”

Alex laughed at that, eyes still on Michael until the coach seemed to call for Michael’s attention. He smiled, turning towards Liz to actually answer her question when he saw a figure out of the corner of his eye and stilled. The smile fell from his face.

Jesse Manes gestured sharp for his son to make his way from the bleachers to where he stood. He closed his eyes, drew in a deep breath, stood, and walked away.

Alex still isn’t back in his seat. Michael’s brow furrows when he finally spots him. He’s not far from the bench, actually. He’s arguing with a cold-eyed older man. A teacher? No, Michael doesn’t recognize him. Michael backs up toward the stands, close as he dares.

Bits and pieces, he catches…

“…finally acting like a fucking man… should have known better…” The guy’s right in Alex’s personal space. “… no son of mine…” Shit, it’s his dad. This asshole is his fucking dad. “…drooling like a goddamn dog… you perverted piece of shit… embarrassing me…”

#malex fic #rnm fic #michael guerin #alex manes #malex #my fic #otp: did it get old for you #Happy Birthday To Me

46 notes · View notes

bobasheebaby · 5 years ago

Text

100 New Girl Prompts

So many prompts, most of which are funny. Break at 15 cause it’s mega long.

1 "I'm using my bride/groom card!" — Cece

2 “Can we just take a minute to celebrate me?" — Schmidt

3 “So many emotions." — Nick

4 “I'm totaling my assets. It's really bleak." — Jess

5 “Look at those horny horny hippos.” — Nick

6 “I got mozzarella sticks for fingers." — Nick

7 “Every moment you're on this Earth is a moment I know where you are." — Nick

8 “It is my Secret Santa alias." — Winston

9 “Friend face." — Winston

10 “It's perfectly fine to watch TV all day." — Nick

11 “If I were off my rocker, would I take a weekly selfie with my cat?" — Winston

12 “I can't find my driving moccasins anywhere." — Schmidt

13 “Believe it or not, that's not the first time someone's broken my feeling stick. I have a travel size." — Jess

14 “Put on some pants, or at least some really high socks." — Jess

15 “You like me? You like my personality?" “I was surprised, too.” — Schmidt & Cece

16 "I just wanted to listen to Taylor Swift alone!" — Jess

17 “That's like the president and the vice president not being best friends." — Winston

18 “I'll take the strongest drink you have, and also a wine spritzer on the side in case I don't like it." — Jess

19 “You have the right...to remain hugged." — Coach

20 “If you are for one second suggesting that I don't know how to open a musical, how dare you!" — Schmidt

21 “I was sabotaged by my baby box." — Jess

22 “We are literally the most embarrassing people on the planet." — Jess

23 "It's a weird life, but it's where I'm at right now." — Nick

24 "You gave me a cookie, I gave you a cookie." — Nick

25 “Go put a dollar in the jar right now." — Coach

26 “This is my jam." — Coach

27 “Saturday is a day for sleeping, and damn it, you will not take that away from me!" — Winston

28 “Are we eating or are we not eating?" — Winston

29 "Eating cookies and avoiding confrontation." — Jess

30 “Because it's a great story, and I'm a teller of stories." — Nick

31 “I like being weird." — Jess

32 "This is the worst thing to ever happen to me. I've lived a very fortunate life!" — Jess

33 "I don't like it. It's too much responsibility." — Nick

34 “Are you cooking a frittata in a sauce pan? What is this – prison?” — Schmidt

35 “I hate your mustache because I miss your upper lip.” — Schmidt

36 “He’s/She's got that giant heart that's part compass and part flashlight and he’s/she's just the greatest person I have ever met.” — Nick

37 “Who's that guy/girl? It's NAME." — Jess

38 “Watch your front because we've got your back!” — Cece

39 “Picking lint off of a man's/woman’s sleeve is the most intimate gesture.” — Cece

40 “Blast from the past, how's that ass?” — Jess

41 “I hate this. I just wanna sit around and do nothing, but that is not hot.” “That's hot to me. You add some sweatpants to that and that is better than porn.” — Kai & Nick

42 “Look at that font! What is this? Amateur hour? At least use Palatino.” — Nick

43 “I’m like a sexual snowflake. Each night with me is like a unique experience.” — Schmidt

44 “Where have you been? I am having a major life crisis, and you guys are, what, just driving around, French kissing each other like a couple of Dutch hookers?” — Schmidt

45 “No sig oths.” “Just say ‘significant others.” “Maybe you have that kind of time, but I’m on a tight sched.” — Schmidt & Cece

46 “I know this isn’t gonna end well, but the whole middle part is going to be awesome.” — Nick

47 “NAME, you’ve been staring at this guy/girl for 5 minutes. Please tell me you’re checking him/her out, otherwise you’re a serial killer. Which would explain a lot.” — Schmidt

48 “This is a horrible neighborhood. There are youths everywhere!” — Schmidt

49 “Guess whose personalized condoms just arrived!” — Schmidt

50 “I’m really gonna need you to step it up tonight, okay? When I see you, I wanna be thinking, ‘Who let the dirty slut out of the slut house?’” — Schmidt

51 “Can someone please get my towel? It’s in my room next to my Irish walking cape!” — Schmidt

52 “Have you seen my sharkskin laptop sleeve?” — Schmidt

53 “Don’t pretend to know my pain.” — Schmidt

54 “Do I regret it? Yes. Would I do it again? Probably.” — Nick

55 “I don't know what I'm doing emotionally or -- let's be honest -- sexually.” — Jess

56 “What if I have some idea of love in my head and it’s just totally wrong?” — Jess

57 “Life sucks. And then it gets better. And then it sucks again.” — Nick

58 “I like getting older, I feel like I’m aging into my personality.” — Nick

59 “You know, sometimes I feel like I’ve never really felt love.” — Winston

60 “When you care about somebody you do what's best for them even if it sucks for you.” — Schmidt

61 “Old people freak me out. With their hands and their legs. They’re like the people version of pleated pants.” — Schmidt

62 “I’m gonna have to run all the way home, and I have my slipperiest loafers on.” — Schmidt

63 “Downstairs neighbour put a password on their wi-fi.” — Nick

64 “You were denied a cell phone because you have the credit score of a homeless ghost.” — Schmidt

65 “I’m only attracted to guys/girls who are afraid of success and think someone famous stole their idea.” — Jess

66 “This place is fancy and I don’t know which fork to kill myself with.” — Nick

67 “Without sex, he’s/she’s not your boyfriend/girlfriend. Okay? He’s/She’s a friend you buy meals for.” — Schmidt

68 “I feel like I wanna murder someone. And also, I want soft pretzels.” — Jess

69 “So when I do the chicken dance, I do it a little differently. Instead of doing claps, I like to do a peck. It’s more realistic.” — Jess

70 “NAME doesn’t have a life plan. He/She doesn’t have a day plan. I once found a note that he/she wrote to himself that said, ‘Put on pants.'” — Jess

71 “I don’t want to kiss and tell, but I ruined my dresser during intercourse. Will you go to Ikea with me?” — Jess

72 “Can I get an alcohol?” — Nick

73 “I want to kill you, because I respect you. NAME! I think I understand hunting!” — Nick

74 “Look, we’re not trying to be mean. We just don’t want you to be yourself… in any way.”

75 “I have decided to give up on men/women and put all of that energy into tomatoes.”

76 “Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day? No, a summer’s day is not a bitch!” — Nick

77 “I only wanna make a drink a coal miner would want. Straight forward. Honest. Something that says, ‘I work in a hole.'” — Nick

78 “I’m not convinced I know how to read, I’ve just memorized a lot of words.” — Nick

79 “I like chipmunks more than squirrels.” — Nick

80 “I can’t believe I’m the sober one. That’s actually never happened before in my life.” — Nick

81 “Beans are nothing but soggy nuts.” — Schmidt

82 “Can I interest you in some white noise?” — Winston

83 “Those are pickles in progress.” — Winston

84 “Who’s talking to you, Depression-era garbage man?” — Coach

85 “I need everyone to shut up.” — Coach

86 “Your asses belong to me now.” — Coach

87 “That’s what’s up, that’s what’s up. No doubt. Diggity.” — Coach

88 “I hate when Schmidt cries. He sounds like a ghost singing ‘Hey Ya.'” — Coach

89 “I’ve made out with half of the guys/girls in this room.” — Cece

90 “You always see the worst in people.” “Yeah, because people are the worst.” — Jess & Nick

91 “I’m sorry we’re not going this weekend.” “But It’s free.” “Did you say free?” “Yeah.” “We’re 100% in. I’ll go pack now.” — Nick & Jes

92 “I’m going to end up alone. I’m going to be a single old man/lady flashing people on the subway.” — Jess

93 “I’ve got two perfectly good forks on the end of my arms.” — Nick

94 “If we needed to talk about feelings they would be called talkings.” — Nick

95 “When you question my pajamas, you make me question our entire friendship!” — Jess

96 “Why can’t I have the things that I want?!” — Schmidt

97 “Bathtubs are medieval filth cauldrons.” — Schmidt

98 “They don’t hate me because I’m old. They hate me because of my personality.” — Schmidt

99 “It’s like you’re ripping the side block out of my mental Jenga.” — Schmidt

100 “I’m not actually quite sure how to stop this.” — Schmidt

#new girl prompts #new girl quotes #writing prompts #dialogue prompts #drabble prompts #jessica day #nick miller #cece parekh #winston bishop #winston schmidt #coach #long post #read more

40 notes · View notes

mspenelopelane · 4 years ago

Text

The Desert

A/N: At the end of the first season on Succession Logan tells Kendall to "go to the desert" to "dry out." I took this as Logan referring to an earlier time when Kendall was in rehab. Upon rewatching the show, I observed a very keen bond Jess had with Kendall without much dialogue. She says so much with her eyes. I wanted to dive into that bond. What shaped it?

Jess jabbed her thumbs furiously on the screen of her phone as hunger pangs reminded her of the smoothie she’d left on her desk. Six hours ago. It had been her own fault. She hadn’t grabbed anything on her way to Teterboro. The jet had its usual Royco provisions, but at the time she hadn’t been hungry. Her stomach had been turning all morning. The flight hit turbulence over the Rockies. Jess had anticipated this; this was normal. It would mean they would land at Van Nuys in another two hours or so. Once she landed in Van Nuys, she’d have a car waiting to bring her to Malibu. She didn’t know she’d be his contact. She didn’t know—until that morning—that she’d be the one to fetch him. She didn’t know that his family had not responded when he had reached out. She only got the call from on high that she was to clear her schedule for the day and have her go bag at the ready: a change of clothes, toiletries, pajamas, and her laptop. Every other assistant that had worked under Kendall had either been fired or had quit before he’d entered rehab. She, somehow, had been reassigned elsewhere. But now, sitting in the leather-clad jet, Jess had been pulled back in. She gripped the armrests as they hit an air pocket and then closed her eyes. They opened again as the landing gear touched down on the runway. The ride to Malibu was thankfully bearable, but the emails and news alerts hadn’t stopped. Of course, the competing tabloids would get wind of this, and her job would be to ensure the most private route to the most private location in Los Angeles county. She had settled on a cool minimalist residence on the Pacific Palisades. The perfect place for him to decompress and get ready to return to New York. There was only a small pause at the front gate, but then the SUV whisked her right up to the entrance. She had expected him to be waiting; though she didn’t actually know what to expect. She had never picked anyone up from rehab before. When Jess realized he wasn’t just coming out to the car, she swung the door open with one hand while emailing Karolina with another and sprinted inside; there would need to be a statement given as the media onslaught was already beginning. Pierce would have a field day with this. She entered, distracted by a new email regarding a particularly nasty rumor that had just popped up: Kendall Roy apparently had a relapse. A relapse? Already? The man hadn’t even been checked out yet. Passing those waiting in the lobby, Jess approached the front desk and asked for Kendall. “Mr. Roy?” The attendant called to a hunched figure that sat in the waiting area—someone Jess had flown past without a thought. She whipped around, momentarily embarrassed for not recognizing her employer. “Hey.” Kendall had gotten up and, with a small duffel bag swung across his shoulder, walked up to the desk. He met eyes with her only briefly. “Thanks for…coming.” “Are you ready?” Jess cleared her throat uncomfortably; maybe a straightforward hello would have been better. Gone were the tailored suits and the large headphones. He stood before her in jeans and a hoodie. The circles under his eyes were dark and cavernous. The level of unabashed sadness he exuded in front of her made her shudder. “Yes,” the attendant cut in with a clipboard, “he is. Sign here, please.” Jess grasped the pen and scribbled quickly. She was realizing that she had been the one to release him. Up until that point, the most intimate thing she had known about him was his coffee order. The details of a follow up dentist appointment. He wrote for the Lampoon in college. The only concrete facts she knew about him were things he allowed her to know; but she had started to become good at picking up facts in other ways—mainly through merely observing him. His downward spiral and rehab had put that into overdrive. She had been the one to find him. “Can I get that for you?” She indicated the bag as her phone pinged. “No…” he answered softly, “I got it.” “All right,” she nodded, “let’s go.” Jess trotted back to the car as her heart raced—what was the protocol for this? She had no idea. She glanced at her phone again. Just another email from Karolina—no check ins from the Roys. None of them. As he watched his assistant climb back into the SUV, Kendall exhaled and tried to ignore her familiar scent as it washed over him as she brushed past. That warm, comforting rush—he welcomed it after two months of patchouli and sandalwood and whatever the fuck else they had been burning at the “resort.” “Back home, then?” Kendall muttered as he tossed his bag into the trunk behind him. “Uh…no…” Jess quickly glanced at him before deciding not to make full eye contact, “I’ve been told to set up a place—” “Where?” “Pacific Palisades,” she responded, ready with a visual, but he held up his hand before she could pull it up on her phone. “No. I need a change of scenery.” “Where?” “I don’t know—” he cut himself off as he thought. The fucking moon, maybe. “—The desert.” “The…desert…” She repeated as she mentally ran down the list of cancellations she would have to make within the next ten minutes. “Yeah. Joshua Tree or something. Not more cliffs.” “Certainly.” Kendall tried to exhale steadily to quell the shaking inside of him; her obedient, quick response made his adrenaline surge after two months of doing nothing but following directions. They sat in relative silence for the next three hours of the trip. The Los Angeles traffic delivered in spades, and Jess trained her eyes on her phone. “All right. Everything set.” She declared in a low voice as they finally pulled onto the 10. “Meals all—” “Done, yes. Chef is en route now.” “Pool--?” “Yes. I couldn’t find Olympic—” “Mmm. And amenities? Gated?” “It’s…remote. No gate. It’s last minute so—” “—Fine, fine.” He said. “It’s remote you said—but we’re plugged in for conferences?” “It will be.” She lied. “Perfect. Thank you.” Kendall relaxed and leaned back, and watched the urban sprawl give way to bare mountains.

It was just past six o’clock when they arrived at the house. A small midcentury bungalow, the house was lit up in an orange glow, waiting for them. The chef could be seen through the kitchen window putting the finishing touches on what would be a whole food, pescatarian meal. Insisting on carrying his own bag, Kendall trudged into the house with Jess at his heels. She felt weirdly light not carrying anything for him. Jess nodded a greeting to the chef, who was plating the meal, and went to the refrigerator for sparkling water. Three kinds, as she had instructed. Aqua Panna with a twist of lemon would surely be his preference at this time of day. She prepared it swiftly and delivered it to Kendall, who was out on the deck surveying the sun dipping into the horizon. “Thanks.” He muttered, “And my phone?” “I was told—” “Just—I just need my phone.” “I know, but—” “Jess, come on.” Kendall let a weak smile flit across his lips. “They told me no.” She shook her head slightly. She followed his gaze as he took a swallow of water and turned back to the sky. “I’m sorry.” She whispered before going back inside. Kendall sat with his fizzy water as the sun disappeared into purple darkness. He heard Jess say goodbye to the chef. He heard the clinking of utensils against a plate. He felt her behind him. That familiar scent threatened to envelope him. “Do you want me to—” “Yeah, outside is fine.” He heard the plate hit the table behind him. Kendall kept his eyes ahead as he felt her pause for instructions. Always anticipating him; it made him deliciously weak. She waited a bit and moved to go back inside. “Hey, Jess,” Kendall called over his shoulder, “you want…to join me?” “Oh—I—” He heard her put her bags down. The stars had started to come out. “Hey, you’ve got to be hungry.” “A car is coming for me,” she said, “I’m going back to LA. Your recovery coach is on his way—” “No…no.” Kendall jumped from the lounge chair, “You don’t need to bring him here. I’m good.” “But they said—” “No, I can handle myself. I can handle it.” Jess stared at him as she clutched her phone to her chest. “Cancel him. He’s coming here? Cancel it.” Jess did not take her eyes from his as a way to plead with him, but Kendall held firm. She nodded uncertainly and looked up the phone number to make the call. Kendall sat down to dinner and called back into the house, “Come on, Jess. Join me.” He only started to eat when he was certain she was making herself a plate. She slipped into the seat next to him, and they ate in silence. Coyotes howled in the distance. Jess jolted slightly at the sound but recovered quickly. Her nerves had been high all day. She paused briefly before continuing her meal; she had been starving. Fifteen minutes went by before he spoke. “Compliments to the chef, then.” Kendall murmured. “You can give them to her when she returns for breakfast tomorrow.” Jess collected the plates and brought them into the kitchen, “she’ll be here at 7 A.M.” This time, instead of staring off into the distance, he followed her back into the house. “You’re headed back to LA?” He watched her put the dishes in the dishwasher. “Yeah,” she responded as she began to wipe down the kitchen island, “that was the plan. I would drop you off, wait for the coach, and head to The Freehand.” “Ooo. The Freehand.” Kendall said under his breath as he traced a vein in the marble counter. He paused for a moment, and then found a new vein. “Why don’t you just crash…here?” Kendall watched out of the corner of his eye as Jess paused in the cleaning of the counter. He watched as she weighed the possible outcomes of the answer to his question. She threw the dishtowel over the lip of the steel farmhouse sink. “I—I can’t—” “Come on… there’s more than enough room here—” “Kendall, I shouldn’t—” The doorbell. With a quick glance to her watch, Jess moved toward the door, “that’ll be the driver.” “No,” Kendall made a momentarily frantic move in front of her so that he blocked her way. “No, come on. You can stay.” She eased around him and opened the door. The driver cleared his throat and offered to carry her bag. “No, she’s not leaving.” Kendall cut in, going so far as to grab her bag before the driver could receive it. The driver looked at Jess, bewildered. “She’s not leaving,” Kendall repeated, and then, with a firm nod to the driver, “thank you. You may go.” Jess brought her full attention to Kendall. His eyes were watery. Red. “Yeah, I’m sorry,” she turned to the driver with a sigh, and produced several bills from her bag, pressing them into his hand, “I am staying.” With a thin-lipped nod, the driver turned and left. Jess closed the door and exhaled; the weight of responsibility for Kendall now burdened her—and it would have whether she had gone or not. She flipped the dead bolt and turned to him. He stood in the foyer of the tiny house, inches from her, holding her bag still. His eyes were redder, and they didn’t meet hers. “Hey.” She said softly. He looked toward the floor and didn’t respond. “Hey,” she said again, and stepped toward him, her hand daring to reach out to him. “You…OK?” “Yeah,” the word passed through his lips almost soundlessly. Tears started to pool on his lower lashes. She stepped closer. After a frozen moment, she took her bag from him and set it down. Jess stood squarely in front of him. She was wearing heels, and they were the same height. She tried to coax him into meeting her eyes, but he would not and instead trained his gaze on her collarbone. His family hadn’t reached out to her all day to check on him. She’d turned his phone on and kept a close watch on hers all day. Nothing. A wave of resolve hit her in that moment, and the barrier between them dissolved. She stepped even closer to him, inches away now, and placed her hands on his shoulders. Kendall squeezed his eyes shut and allowed a tear to escape down his cheek. “I’m…I’m glad you’re OK.” She whispered, and before she even finished her words, he threw himself against her shoulder; she could feel his warm breath through her blouse as he struggled to hold back a sob. Kendall slid his hand around her back and clung to her, there in the foyer. His other hand slid up her arm, and he gripped the silk of her top tightly in his fist. She was shocked for a moment; when she had taken the job just a year before she never would have remotely imagined she’d be where she was then. But Jess pushed past the shock, and she wrapped her arms around him in a firm embrace. Other duties as required? She set a mental reminder for herself to laugh at that later. For that second, he forgot who she was. She was now a person. A body. A warm, soft, body that he wanted to curl up against. For all of the spa treatments, the yoga, the therapy, the meditation of the past two months, being embraced was exponentially more powerful to him. “Thank you.” His voice was quiet and shaky, “thank you for staying.” He hugged her tighter. “Of course.” Was all she said. “I didn’t want—” he gulped his tears like a child, “I didn’t want you to—I didn’t want to be—" “It’s OK—it’s OK,” Jess pulled back and looked at him, her heart racing into something of a minor panic. Who could she sneak off and call for support? Karolina? Geri? She was coming up short. Kendall nodded quickly and sniffed, “yeah.” “How about you sit on the couch? Um…I can get you tea? What about a fire?” “That’s…nice. That’s really nice.” He ran his hand through his hair and tried his best to saunter casually over to the couch. There was a wood burning fireplace. It took about five minutes for Kendall to get it going at steady roar. By then, Jess presented him with a hot mug of oolong tea. “Thanks,” he said. She sat at safe distance on the opposite corner of the couch and sipped from her own mug. “The desert was a better choice,” she admitted, staring into the fire. “Heh.” Was all Kendall could muster. He felt stupid for saying it. “I’d never been here before. It’s beautiful.” “Yeah, I hadn’t either. Maybe that’s why I wanted to come.” Jess nodded in the silent pause between them. “Thanks again—for staying.” “Don’t mention it—” “I mean—” “It’s not a big deal—” “I mean, it is,” Kendall countered, “my family has you on the clock 24/7 and now they’ve tasked you to come and release me.” “It’s my job—” “It’s your job,” Kendall nodded, visibly stung, “right—” “Well, it’s not my job,” she knitted her brow, fumbling for words, “but I work for you.” “Ah, yes, you do.” He nodded again, reminded of how the people closest to him were the ones who were paid handsomely to do so. “I’m—sorry—did I--?” Jess held her hand against her heart. “No, you’re fine—” The flickering light of the fire before them only seemed to emphasize the lines in his face. She slid across the couch and laid her hand on his, which made him jolt in a small surprise. “I made the choice to stay.” Jess asserted. “You’re very convincing, but I was the one who made the choice.” She kept her hand on top of his, even going so far as to give a squeeze as something of an emphasis. “Yeah.” He responded, keeping his eyes on the curve of her knuckles. Something was missing. She followed his eyes to what he noticed: the absence of the yellow gold 3-carat east-west emerald-cut ring that had been on her finger two months ago. Jess pulled her hand back and tucked it into the crook of her opposite elbow. Kendall watched her as she took a sip of tea. He had never been one to notice something like that. But on the day that it appeared, glinting brilliantly alongside his cup of morning coffee that she always had greeted him with, it made some sort of imprint on him, like a part of her had been taken away from him. Now, that part was back. There they were, alone in the desert. No fucking ring in sight. Except, of course, for his. Jess finished her tea, stood from the couch and sighed, “I think I’m going to turn in.” This was weird. She felt nervous. But not in the usual Waystar Royco way. Not like when she had booked the wrong Ritz hotel room—Paris instead of London--on the second week of her job. This was different. She felt him staring at her. “I’m just really exhausted,” she exhaled and rubbed her forehead with her unringed finger. She rose from the couch, grabbed her bag and headed down the hall. Kendall’s heart leapt as he heard her come back to the bedroom. Maybe it was going to be the Ritz mix up. “What’s up?” He asked. “There’s…there’s only one bedroom.”

#succession hbo #kendall roy #jess jordan

1 note · View note

sixinsultsago · 6 years ago

Text

creative problem solving {andreil}

married andreil get into a bit of a domestic, but andrew figures out a way to deescalate the situation while also thoroughly entertaining himself;

aka we don't talk about neil's hatred of baseball enough

ft. future andreil!

* * *

It occurs to Andrew in the middle of the action, how ridiculous it is to storm out of a house that has his fucking name on the lease, but he has the sense not to linger at the scene of the crime with the murder weapon in his hand. Any further conversation won't end well when both of them are clutching to maladaptive habits.

So, Andrew walks away.

A hot stone drops in his stomach. A heavy, sticking weight that feels like it's lodged inside of him, accompanied by the equally well-acquainted burn of anger.

It's his house. He can't believe he has to leave his own fucking house.

Going to their second-storey balcony is entirely out of muscle memory. Andrew doesn't smoke anymore, and he runs cold on top of it; going outside no longer works to calm himself down so much as it lends ample time to dwell on why he's angry and how likely he is to lose a finger to the weather.

He's almost tempted to stay outside just for that --- less fingers makes it harder to hold a racquet; he can't be a goalkeeper without that particular talent, now can he?

Thinking about Exy isn't helping. Andrew's fingers twitch desperately around thin air.

He wants a cigarette. He wants to go back inside and sit next to his husband without the idiot running his mouth, just to try it on for size. Neither is likely to happen. It's been long enough for both things that Andrew should know better than to hope for them.

Well, no one person is capable of knowing themselves completely; Andrew never has been as smart as he thinks he is.

A brisk breeze eventually chases him back inside, although he wants to stay right where he is until he turns into an ice sculpture or something similarly unaffected by Neil Josten's --- everything.

But when he enters, downstairs is swollen with thick warmth; Neil turned on the heater while Andrew was outside.

Andrew cups his hands, throbbing dully from chilliness, over his mouth and pretends to be unaware that it was done for him. He fails. The burn in his blood cools; the stone lessens in heaviness. The idea of talking to Neil doesn't make him want to turn his own skin inside out.

This is as good as it gets.

Spesking of, the man himself is staring at the tv --- not watching, if his coiled shoulders are an indication. It is playing a rerun of an old show Andrew caught glimpses of at an old foster home. He recalls the snapshots he saw vividly: the disjointed editing, the canned studio audience laughter. He managed to watch an entire episode when he took a sick day from school.

He'd enjoyed it, until Jesse came home early.

No. Do not think about him.

He tries. That's what Andrew does these days: a whole lot of trying.

Andrew walks over and steals the remote out of Neil's slack hands.

"Sure, go ahead," Neil says dryly, shooting him a look. Andrew ignores him.

He changes channels, mentally running through grounding techniques. Andrew catalogues the leather sofa on his thighs, their shaggy rug between his toes, listens to singing crickets outside their window. Sir's rumbling purrs. Neil's careful breathing.

Neil.

Like a compass swinging north, Andrew meets Neil's eyes. Naturally, he has been staring this entire time, which isn't exactly odd after a decade of it. That doesn't mean everything is as it should be.

"You are being unusually nonconfronting," notes Andrew.

"Do you want me to start? I could mention that your height makes you look like a child throwing a tantrum when you storm out like that," Neil replies, making it perfectly clear his silence was packaged and presented like a Christmas gift for a reason. "Sorry, I didn't mean that. Or to upset you earlier. Thank you for coming back in."

"Upset me."

His tone is frigid, but Neil says, "Yeah," as if he is too dumb to be wary. Likely because he is. Andrew retreating to the closest edge is a habit. So is Neil’s disturbing lack of self-preservation in the face of a threat.

"I do not want you to talk to me about my team for now," Andrew tells him. "I'm handling it. Your shining white knight act is unnecessary and embarrassing."

"Unnecessary? Andrew, you're out and surrounded by homophobes!"

Andrew is still flicking through channels, barely lingering enough for the television to stutter through sounds. His finger presses down and forces countless actors to abort their well-rehearsed lines mid-sentence. Andrew's thoughts are similarly fragmented. This is not his favorite topic, no matter how often he finds himself talking about it.

"You are not listening."

Neil's chin juts out stubbornly. Jesus Christ.

"I don't think you are. Andrew, you aren't safe around your bullshit coach. I wish you'd trade to my team, I really do. Sandra's girlfriend watches most of our practices and no one's said a word about it. It's better for you, with me."

What Neil never addresses --- and what Andrew did only once; he hates repeating himself, especially when his conversational partner has the coloring and mental facilities of a brick wall --- is that the New York Coyotes do not need another goalie. Their defense is solid. Andrew's addition would be wasteful. A trade isn't likely to happen until their current goalkeeper retires, which isn't for another four years.

Andrew prefers Manhattan Bears' wary side-eyes than being more than a half hour drive from Neil. He's used to the 'ticking time-bomb' handling anyway.

"No." Andrew says flatly. He flicks past Fox news, some children's cartoon about ponies, a group meerkats standing on their hind legs. "Would you like to hear it in Spanish? Russian? I hear those who are multilingual can think in other languages. Perhaps that is why you aren't listening to me when I tell you to drop it."

Neil looks spectacularly unamused. He strokes Sir's fur more insistently, a stress relief that is leaving orange hair all over Andrew's black couch. He eyes the offending color briefly. He hates orange.

“Come on, Andrew…” Neil starts beseechingly. He would shift closer if he didn't have the cat on his lap.

Good work, you mangy rat, Andrew thinks loudly at Sir. The only way Andrew can win is if Neil doesn't touch him. Those pockmarked hands can bleed any sort of tension from Andrew, it's borderline suspicious.

A birds-eye view of a green field flashes across the screen, outfitted in diamond plates and bobble-headed figures barely recognizable as people. Andrew presses down. It's a medical drama now.

"--- ignoring me isn't going to work --- "

He goes back. The field, the diamonds, the people. Baseball is uninteresting in every way possible, but Andrew doesn't have any personal biases for or against the sport. He could endure an entire sitting of it with the same studied disinterest he employs when his coach goes over plays before a game.

Neil, however, cannot. He keeps talking until Andrew turns up the television. For a heartstopping moment the game doesn't appear to register, his mouth not slowed down in the slightest.

Then, a commentator crows, "What a spectacular pitch from the Phillies!"

Neil literally chokes on his next words. He swings to face the screen, scars emphasizing his disgusted expression. "What?"

"Contretras once again establishing himself as a nightmare opponent on the field---"

"Andrew," says Neil. He sounds on the verge of a meltdown. "Turn this off."

Andrew watches the redhead. He maxes out the volume. Neil makes a rude, prim noise. "Andrew."

"Hm?"

"You... You know I hate baseball."

"And you know I don't want to discuss trading teams with you," Andrew mutters back, ignoring the betrayed look burning into the side of his head. "It seems neither of us are getting what we want. So sad. Grab a tissue if you are going to weep about it."

Finally, it goes quiet. How blissful. Andrew will never take a weekend away for granted again.

Impressively Neil manages to survive through a few pitches, albeit with the twitchiness of an addict in withdrawal, before blurting: "This is a new low, even for you,"

"Oh, Neil. I am no less hindered by consideration for your feelings than usual."

The batter hits a ball with a resounding metallic clink. Neil flinches like it's a gunshot. Drama queen. "Could you just --- explain to me what you are trying to do here?"

"I am trying," Andrew gestures pointedly at the television, "to watch a game of baseball. You are talking my ears off. If you stop, I might too. Think about it."

Neil narrows his eyes. "Fine. I'll quit talking about---" Andrew presses his hand against his mouth, feels Neil's jaw tense under his palm. "What now."

"I said, think about it. Go and do that." Andrew waves him impatiently away, hoping that Neil will take the easy way out for once. "I will not be moving,"

"Will you stop watching this pathetic excuse for a fucking sport if I do," Neil's sarcasm is barely muffled. He already looks resigned. It bodes well.

"Yes."

"Well, aren't you bratty tonight," says Neil with no apparent sense of irony, getting up from the sofa and striding into the kitchen. He flicks on the kettle, grumbling the entire time. Andrew, in acknowledgement, turns down the television until it is nearly mute.

To be honest, he didn't think this would work. Amusement bubbles through his chest. He is still mad, but he can take enjoyment from Neil's pout nevertheless. Andrew is a multi-tasker.

As Neil deliberately clatters around making himself a cup of tea, Andrew records the game currently playing.

He has a feeling this method of silencing Neil can be recycled many more times before it loses its effectiveness.

#aftg #andrew minyard #neil josten #tfc #andreil #andreil fic #my fic #tw: baseball (for all you neil josten kins out there)#mine

166 notes · View notes

liloelsagranger · 6 years ago

Text

Viridian Love Story - Chapter 1 (new Pokémon fanfiction)

YES! I finally wrote the first chapter of my newest fanfiction. Enjoy! English is not my mothertongue, but I try to improve my skills on a daily basis. I hope you like it. Feel free to leave a like or comment. Thanks for your support. Viridian Love Story Chapter 1: Breaking fresh ground Deep asleep with his face buried in the pillows, Ash marched through the imaginary world of his dreams. One fight after another, he pocketed victories, recognition and fame for being the best Pokémon trainer on the planet. Pikachu was sitting on his shoulder, his cheeks crackling with small electric shocks. They’ve been an invincible team for almost ten years, their friendship growing stronger with every battle, with every adventure and new challenge. He could have spent more time in his never-never land, but something pulled Ash out of his dreams. The door to his bedroom was slammed open, she rushed in like a nervous wreck, kneeling down next to him and began to shake him around.

„Ash! We’re going to be late on our first day!“ her squeaky voice made him leave the images of a successful championship behind. Ash grumbled incomprehensibly and turned to the other side, not willing to get up anytime soon. „Alright! You asked for it! Pikachu wake him up with a tiny electric shock, but not too hard, okay? He can’t show up completely burned on the university campus,“ she winked at the yellow mouse. A smile flitted over her face. After over two years of dating, she still had to get used to Ash being a morning grumper. A harsh lightning flashed through the room. Ash leaped up and down, his eyes pinched together, his hair tousled. „Okay, I’m awake, I’m awake!“ he mumbled. She ran her hand through his black mane. „Get ready, Brock’s waiting outside,“ she gave him a quick kiss on the cheek which made him blush. „Thank you, Serena,“ Ash cracked a smile. „What for?“ her question was justified. „Well, thank you for your support and your motivational speeches. I know my attitude towards school has been very tiring at times and there have been days when I really wanted to chuck my studies in, but you believed in me and you hurried me up. I mean, if it hadn’t been for you, I would have probably failed ever single entrance exam. Learning has never been my cup of coffee, but I want to make you and my mom proud,“ he stood up and walked over to his girlfriend. Her eyes shone dangerously. Ash cupped her face and kissed her. „Ash,“ she reached for his hand. „We’re already proud of you! You’ve achieved so much over the past couple of years. I’m sure you will complete your studies successfully. From the wide range of subjects they offer, you’ve definitely chosen the right one. You’re going to be an ambitiuous coach. Classes like history of Pokémon battles and a top-notch education in attacks, conditions and ideal habitats of our Pokémon friends will enrich your knowledge! And I’m going to work hard on my art theoretical and practical training and become a highly respected show case performer. It’s a cinch!“ Somenone knocked on the door, interrupting their intimate moment. Mrs. Ketchum was carrying two lunch bags and tumblr cups. „Good morning, my sweetheart,“ Ash rolled his eyes, but his mother was visibly bursting with pride. „Today, you embark on your new journey,“ she could hardly hide her joy. Pikachu jumped on Ash’s shoulder, he grabbed the lunch bag and did everything in his power to avoid an embarrassing kiss goodbye. „Bye mom. See you this evening,“ he, Serena and Brock waved farewell, taking their path to the future. Meanwhile, Team Rocket was eagerly awaiting a call from Giovanni. They hadn’t been instructed with a new mission yet, but, to be honest, Jessie was mentally miles away from their next task. She couldn’t forget that night four weeks ago, that night that changed her attitude towards James forever. Nervously tapping her fingers on the keyboard, she recalled her memories. - FLASHBACK –

„To you, Jessie! To the thoughest and most fiery woman on earth!“ James slurped down the wine in one go. She noticed that he started to babble. He had been pledging toasts to her for the last hour, they’ve gotten wittier and quirkier with every refill. Catching a horde of Noibats and sending them to their boss without further incidents had gone to his head, or maybe it was just the wine speaking from him. Jessie laughed, tears in her eyes. He enjoyed the sound of her infectious laugh, it made her even more attractive. Years had gone by where he missed every chance to approach her, but tonight was the night, he could feel it. ‚Screw the past, James thought, ‚screw the reluctance and anxiety.’ Jessie looked at him, something in his gaze made her heart beat faster. She spotted desire, longing, excitement, but also a hint of insecurity and doubt. As soon as their eyes met, James became quiet. He looked at her, he seemed to scan her from head to toe. She got nervous, he stirred her blood. Slowly and very cautiously, he closed up on her. Their faces were only inches apart, she could smell the sweet taste of their plonk in James’ breath. He carefully wiped a wisp of hair behind her ear. „Jessie,“ James whispered scarcely audible. She breathed in sharply. The goofy boy had gone, the pathetic guy who was obsessed with his bottle cap collection had disappeared, Jessie was sitting opposite a man. A man with a clear goal in mind. James wrapped his arms around her hips, pulling her so close their bodies would touch. He didn’t move, but was only gazing deep into her eyes. She could feel his firm grip, his fingers slowly sliding along the rim of her skirt. A wave of unstoppable excitment shot through her body. She got hot and cold at the same time. Tonight was the night... James leaned in and kissed her. At first, he kissed her tentatively and carefully, as if she were a fragile porcelain doll. He didn’t want to hurt her, he didn’t want to force her, he only wanted her to feel safe and secure in his arms. Many men had broken her heart, had exploited her and her goodwill, but he was different. James tightened his grip, as she laid a hand on his thigh. He felt aroused, he moaned at her lips. Barley overwhelmed, she bundled all her passion in this kiss. Jessie’s hand embraced his neck, she played with his lavender locks, attrackted by the scent of bitter herbs. James’ fingers slipped underneath her shirt. He buried his face into the crook of her neck, he was gasping for breath. „James, what are we doing?“ he didn’t answer, he pulled the shirt over her head. „Trust me,“ his breath was puffy. Their lips met again, their kisses were keen and intense. What happened to him? Jessie didn’t recognize this self-confident man. Any insecurity and tension had left his body. She decided to relish the moment, to enjoy James’ overtures for which she had waited so long. Tomorrow, everything would be forgotten, they would follow the same old and boring rut. He pulled her down very gently, caressing her cheek and smiling shyly as if he knew how akward it looked. They made out, forgetting about their failures, about their misdeeds and losses. His hands were everywhere. Infinitely slowly, he placed kisses down her neck. Jessie groaned pleasurabely. Finally, after so many years, he had made a pass at her. She got rid of his shirt, her nails running down his naked breast. „Criminally hot, heh?“ she teased him. James understood her hint and laughed. It was a new sensation they were feeling. They couldn’t stop kissing, they couldn’t stop exploring each other and then the next day dawned...

- END OF FLASHBACK –

James never said another word about it. He had successfully supressed it, like always. The shadows of his past had caught up with him again. He looked at her. „Everything okay, Jess?“ he wondered, rummaging around his tool box. She nodded silently. Meowth didn’t get any of that, but he smelled a rat. He kept a stiff upper lift, but sooner or later he would probe them. The shrill ringing of the phone brought them back to reality. „Hello,“ Jessie answered the call, swallowing hard. „Jessie, James and Meowth!“ Giovanni stressed their names disapprovingly. „Well done! That horde of Noibats was used for a good cause, BUT, you haven’t sent me new Pokémon in weeks! Your capture rate has once again reached its lowes point,“ he was in a very bad temper. Their knees were shaking. „Sorry, boss,“ James was the first to find his shaky voice. „Sorry, boss,“ Giovanni parroted him. „I give you one more chance! Not far from your base is a renowned university that specialized in Pokémon training and breeding, which means there are dozens of mighty creatures romping about the campus. Now, listen to me. It’d be foolish to try to catch them one by one. We need them all at once. You’ve got to figure out a plan!“ He hung up the phone with no further insturctions. Team Rocket exchanged irritated looks. „How are we supposed to do that?“ James asked. A mischievious grin appeared on Meowth’s face. „I’ve got a cunning plan...“ „Kiss me and tell me you’ll miss me,“ Serena hugged her boyfriend. He gave her a kiss on her forehead and bade farewell to her for their classes would take place in different buildings.

Ash was the first one to enter the empty class room, at least he thought it was empty, but on closer inspection he noticed someone sitting in the corner of the room. He wanted to greet this young woman, wanted to introduce himself and ask her about subjects she would take. But at second sight, he paused to think. The past knocked on his door. She seemed completely intimidated, introverted, her red hair hanging loose over her shoulder. None of the strong girl he once new was left, but he recognized her right away. His jaw dropped. „Misty?“ To be continued...?

39 notes · View notes

aboutcaseyaffleck · 6 years ago

Text

Casey Affleck Is a Full-Time Flag Football Coach, Part-Time Actor

The quiet Affleck is known for soul searching performances, but mostly he's just trying to call the right play.

Looking for Casey Affleck? Head to the park. It’s where he’s doing some of his finest work — and spending a hell of a lot of time.

“My son got into flag football so I started coaching it,” says the actor and father of two. “I coach his team and then the parents of his friends asked me to coach their team. I coach three flag football teams and a baseball team.”

The last time we saw Affleck, 43, on screen, he was a burnout saddled with raising a nephew he didn’t want after his own kids died in a house fire. The sublimely quiet performance earned him a best actor Oscar for Manchester by the Sea. But it was just a performance. Despite his introverted public persona — so much for that Ocean’s 11 loudmouth — Affleck is incredibly present in his children’s lives and specifically on the sidelines of their various games. In fact, Affleck explains that he has eschewed blockbusters to ensure he has time with his sons, Indiana, 15, and Atticus, 11. He didn’t want to show up after they were already out of the house. He wanted a major role in their lives.

But don’t think that his turn as a dad is a conventional leading man part. The actor who plotted a murder as a sociopathic teenager in Gus Van Sant’s 1995 classic To Die For, the guy who gunned down Brad Pitt in 2007’s The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford, isn’t what you’d call a cool dad. He says he lectures his sons, annoying them constantly. “Here’s a tip,” he laughs. “If you’re driving in a car with two kids and you turn around and see they’re both wearing headphones, you’re talking too much.”

Still, that’s not going to convince Hollywood’s most notoriously reserved star to stop talking.

“I could talk about my kids all day. Being a parent has taught me more about myself and about life than any other experience I have ever had. I want to soak up every minute of it. It’s a priority I’m happy I have,” says Affleck, who will debut Light of My Life, an exquisite yet grounded film he wrote about a father and daughter navigating a post-apocalyptic world this summer. He says the science fictional elements are sort of a metaphor for his anxieties as a parent. (Not-so-much the flag football playcalling anxieties. More the bigger stuff.)

Affleck spoke to Fatherly about being a nearly full-time youth sports coach, how parenthood changed his career, and how his sons influenced his new film.

I’m told you are quite the dedicated coach. Are you, like me, all about winning?

I’m that coach inside, but I try to contain it. I love doing it. I was never into football when I was a kid. My son got into flag football so I started coaching it. I coach his team and the parents of his friends asked me to coach their team. I coach three flag football teams and a baseball team.

Coaching to me is incredibly rewarding. To have the kind of relationship with your kid in a different way is really great. They come home and they critique my coaching style. They write plays for me. They do it with me. It’s an extra little bonding experience. Also, I get to know other kids. When you’re the coach, they give you a kind of authority you don’t deserve. There’s a lot of trust and respect. There’s a mob of kids over here at the house all the time. They don’t always listen, but when you’re their coach, it’s a different relationship.

When I talked to you a few years ago, you were wary of even revealing your first son’s name. How have you kept them out of the spotlight? I mean, look at your brother Ben Affleck. He gets it so bad.

He does get it bad. If you’re two celebrities who are married, that is just gossip and fodder and crack. It’s double trouble. Jennifer Garner being so famous and Ben… they just get the worst it. I hate it for my nieces and nephew. It’s so intrusive. It’s so awful. They manage it really well. They talk to the kids about it and explain it. With my kids, I think it helps that the paparazzi don’t care about me that much, which is amazing and thank God for that. I was really vigilant early on about protecting my private life and making choices that would keep me out of the spotlight. I didn’t do that much press. I wouldn’t talk about my kids. But my kids now give me career advice. They’re old enough.

Like what tips do they give you?

My son told me I had to get a verified Instagram account. My heart sank. I need all the help I can get. My son is 15 and knows what it is. At a certain point, you can protect from the world but then you have to move into the world with them. To me, that has meant allowing them to be online with the rest of the world.

In terms of your career, did your Oscar change things for you in a major way? I know you’re particular about what you work on.

You can be very picky and still end up in things that aren’t great. There’s no formula. I would like to rethink my strategy of being so picky. I don’t put being successful or being in a great movie ahead of everything else in my life. This summer, I wanted to spend the summer with my 15 year old. I didn’t want to be away all summer, no matter how good a project it was. It’s been tough. I’ve had to let go of a lot of professional experiences that I really wanted. I wanted to be at home more. Winning the Oscar didn’t change anything. It’s not me being regretful.

Do your kids care that you’re an actor? Have they seen your movies?

They have very little interest in watching the movies I do. They care about when I talk to them about movies. That way they can understand that I actually do something. Some parents work in banks or in schools. I act. It’s a little harder for younger kids to grasp. I ask for their advice all the time on what projects to do. When the movies come out, they’re not that interested. They don’t go to the movie theater that much. They like plays. I took my youngest kid, at 11 and two of their friends, to the sound stage when I was shooting this movie. They lasted about four minutes. They went to the hallway and played tag.

Let’s talk about the new movie, Light of My Life. The opening scene with Anna Pniowsky, who plays your daughter, is so intimate, so sweet, especially when you’re telling her the bedtime story you made up on the fly.

It was pretty easy and relaxed. For one thing, Anna is just naturally a great actress. She’s relaxed on camera. She has a lot of emotional intelligence and depth that is apparent. But also, like with any scene, the scene begins the first minute you meet them. Anna and I — I love her to death. We got along so well. She’s such a sweet kid. But the time we got into shooting that scene, she was in a groove.

This movie is about an apocalyptic future, but it’s mostly about being a dad. Could you have written it before you had kids?

I wouldn’t have written the role if I wasn’t a dad in real life. It’s about being a parent to me. All the science fiction stuff, the action, that was secondary. My experience with being a parent… that’s what it’s all about. The dynamic with me and Anna is stuff I draw on from being a dad.

How did your kids influence the development of the film?

My oldest son came to a reading of a scene and he gave me two pages of notes. They were the best notes that I got from anyone. I’ll save them forever. At the end of every movie, I make a t-shirt for everyone on the crew. On the back of the shirt, I put all his notes. Some of it was from his point of view. Some of it was objective stuff about storytelling. There’s too many moments where I’m like this or like that. They were sophisticated suggestions.

So you’re basically saying, you benefitted from child labor.

Yes, for sure. I’ll put something extra in his allowance.

On a not wholly unrelated note, I’m curious how you, as a celebrity father and well-known guy, work to ensure that your children don’t become entitled. I think it’s something a lot of parents worry about. I know I do.

Oh man. Just the fact you care is 80 percent of it. But I have to give credit to their mom. Their mom has done the best job and has an innate understanding of how to raise good kids.

I’ve been in places where there is extreme poverty. Seeing those kids can really give you a great perspective on parenting — suddenly their finicky eating doesn’t seem like such a giant problem. Our culture of fear and hyper-vigilance and media saturation can be an obstacle to giving them roots and letting them go a little bit. You have to trust that they’ll be ok.

I think that’s dead on. I also think it’s hard not to overthink and under-do.

The thing that affects them more than anything is how you live. If you’re on your phone 24 hours a day, they will be too. If you’re an entitled person, they’re more likely to be that way.

And you can’t indulge their every demand or whim, which is pretty damn hard.

My son said he should start thinking about getting a car. I told him to start thinking about getting a job. I’m not the parent that will buy them a car. They will have to earn it like I did. They give me that look like, ‘Give us a break!’ and I wonder if I am being too hard.

I do want them to hang out with me when they’re older and when they have kids.

What do you do that totally, utterly humiliates your kids? Every parent has at least one of those behaviors.

I’m overwhelmed thinking about all the embarrassing things I do. The things that make me suddenly cringe are all the dumb things I’ve said and done as a parent.

Here’s a good one: My son had a birthday party. There are these kids over here. It’s the best party I’ve had in my house in ten years. I found out that 15 year olds are really fun and I wanted to hang out. I said, ‘Let’s play some ping pong’ and I got the look. My son just looked at me like I was the least cool person he’d ever seen. He wanted me to give them space. I was trying to fit in.

#casey affleck #family #interview #news #posted by us

13 notes · View notes

gleekto · 6 years ago

Text

All In the Past (12/13)

Prompt: You were the bane of my existence in high school but now we’re going to college together AU

Cheerio!Kurt/ Jock-Football!Blaine

Summary: Kurt Hummel is tolerating his senior year of high school. He’s head cheerio, which affords him some protection from the hamhock bullies who ruined his designer knock offs in his first few years. He can manage his one last year with that new charming transfer student, Blaine Anderson. swooping into his school, rising to popularity, and completely ignoring him. Next year he’ll be free from a world where everyone is afraid of the gay kid.

He just didn’t expect Blaine Anderson to swoop into his college world too.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11

Part 12: News

They still have two days before they leave for homecoming when Rachel makes the post on her Facebook page.

Rachel Berry is dating Jesse St. James.

She shows Kurt the messages flooding in fast and furious.

So sorry about you and Blaine.

What about Blaine?

You scored the former lead vocalist of Vocal Adrenaline?! Great news! Or is this great news?! Is Blaine okay?

You’re both still coming to Homecoming, right?

Later she posts a picture of her and Blaine together smiling, each making a thumbs up. Blaine and I are all good. We’re better off as friends! We’ll see you at Homecoming!

Blaine leans over their table in the cafeteria to show Kurt the post which was followed by 20 likes and numerous thumbs up emojis. “So you’re really doing this, huh?”

“We are. Yeah,” Blaine says.

“I don’t need credit for your coming out.”

“Wouldn’t be worth it otherwise,” Blaine shrugs. “Though I do look forward to the looks on Karofsky’s and Azimio’s faces,” Blaine sighs almost happily.

“You’re not scared?”

“I’m scared,” Blaine says matter of factly. He takes Kurt’s hand across the table and interlaces their fingers. “But I also don’t care.”

It’s been three days since they slept together. Three days of Blaine’s texts -

Can you meet me? Need to copy your sheet music from last week before glee club

Ran into Jenny on campus. She was so thankful - I think we did a good job ;)

Winky emoji. But he’ll forgive him. Mostly because that text was quickly followed by Only you could pull off that white strait jacket shirt. So hot. And then “I’m willing to watch you escape....Too much?” Kurt laughed out loud in the otherwise quiet library and quickly stopped himself.

Lucky for you, you have one get out of jail free card, Kurt texted back.

Blaine also called him on both nights “to plot the homecoming reveal” but they ended up talking until 2am. They went through the requisite opinions on professors versus McKinley teachers, Kurt wondering at how Blaine put up with that dweeb Mr. Schuester all year. Though Blaine had a point that Kurt had put up with Coach Sue - Didn’t she call you Lady Hummel?

“That was Santana,” Kurt laughed fondly. “But I warned her to stop or else I would drop her from top of the cheer pyramid. Sue just called me Porcelain.”

“You’re anything but fragile.” Blaine was already defending his honor. Unnecessary but kind of nice.

“Because of my ghost white skin.”

“Mmmm,” Blaine hummed. “That’s not that bad.”

“Santana was worse. Be warned, when she finds out about this - God-” Kurt stops.

“What?”

“Let’s just say to expect inappropriate questions about what I look like naked.”

“I like what you look like naked.” Blaine didn’t miss beat.

“Blaine.”

“Am I embarrassing you?” The voice at the other end of the line was surprisingly relaxed.

“Not really,” Kurt huffed. “Sort of.” He heard Blaine hum affirmatively, inevitably thinking it was cute. Forget that. “You can go on.”

“Go on?” Blaine sounded surprised, pleasantly.

“Well, I’ve got to know exactly what you plan to say to Santana about my porcelain white body.”

“I can’t figure out if you’re actually shy or not,” Blaine said as if that was an answer. Kurt was pleased. He may have nerves but he likes this feeling and he will just breathe through whatever jitters arise if the result is hearing Blaine swoon over him. His body. God, it’s so weird. But amazing.

“I’m an enigma,” Kurt said. “Go on.” He heard Blaine’s breath shiver.

“I can’t wait to see your body again,” Blaine answered this time. “I’ve been thinking about it.”

“Me too,” Kurt interrupted in a moment of well-faked boldness. Blaine continued so it must have been okay.

“I want to do what I did again. And more.” And more.

“I’ll do it to you too next time,” Kurt quickly defended. “What you did, I mean.” Kurt was so red, he was eternally grateful Blaine couldn’t see.

Blaine’s breath hitched again. “I’ll go to sleep thinking about it,” Blaine said quietly before the call ended.

How the hell was he supposed to go to sleep? He didn’t, obviously.

Kurt now looks around them at the bustling students crowding the cafeteria, paying no attention to them just sitting there holding hands. The whole scene is novel for Kurt, his eyes flitting everywhere confirming the ordinariness of it. But Blaine is cool as a cucumber, eyes only on him.

“You’re really not tortured about this gay thing, are you?”

Blaine laughs. “I was never tortured about this gay thing. And definitely not tortured about this gay thing,” Blaine squeezes his hand. “The closet was torture. Especially with you in that red stretchy McKinley cheerleading uniform-”

“Kurt, Blaine!” Matt from the LGBT Centre. Matt of the ill-advised matchmaking.

“Oh my god,” Kurt quickly grabs his hand back. He’s been caught.

“Glad to see there were no fights at the shift the other night,” He winks. As if he knew the whole time. “Or you know, maybe there were. Whatever works for you.”

“Shut up, Matt.” Kurt sighs.

“Turns out you actually like him, right?” Matt is enjoying this way too much.

“Turns out,” Kurt blushes.

“Nobody wants to be on the wrong side of that wrath,” Blaine adds.

Matt laughs, “Think I might’ve been for all those shift set-ups. But now you can just say I have great intuition, right Kurt?” Kurt rolls his eyes. “Just remember to send an invite to the wedding.” Matt claps them both on the shoulder and practically skips away.

“Just so we’re clear, I’m not ready to get married,” Blaine says, half in jest, all in earnest.

“How about you start actually talking to me with our high school friends and then we’ll talk venues,” Kurt deadpans as his phone buzzes. “Speaking of which-” Kurt holds up his phone for Blaine to see Santana’s text.

Santana: Given that I’m leaving the Greek islands to return to the world’s most boring town, I assume that at least you’ll be there to provide a little New York intrigue at our Cheerios pre-party at Quinn’s?

Kurt: I’ll be there.

And I’m bringing someone.

He looks at Blaine before he hits send. Blaine nods, and then it’s done. Barely ten seconds go by before Santana buzzes five times in a row.

A GUY?

WITH YOU?

ARE YOU SERIOUS?

GET IT, KURT!

I DIDN’T KNOW YOU HAD IT IN YOU.

WHO IS HE?

Kurt smirks down at the phone, satisfied.

Yes, a guy.

He goes to NYU.

Be nice. Or I”ll never provide New York intrigue in our boring town again.

Kurt has never been one to shy away from a dramatic entrance.

#gleekto writes #this was a fun one #all in the past

44 notes · View notes

thatoneloser-kid · 6 years ago

Note

read your hope/amy fanfic and i loved it! i have a prompt if you’re willing to write it. About hope’s feelings toward amy prior to the events of the movie until the moment amy first kisses her in the bathroom, since it’s slightly hinted that she’s always had a thing for amy based on their first scene

Thank you for reading! I hope this is okay.

If you have any prompts send them this way

Hope first spoke Amy when she was ten.

They both run into each other during gym, both landing on their ass on the grass, eyes wide in surprise.

Amy started stuttering out an apology, crawling on her hands and knees to Hope, who had pushed herself up onto her elbows.

Amy was small, freckles dusted over her cheeks and nose, and she had a sweet smile.

Hope grew up in a relatively liberal environment, her oldest sister was dating woman, so part of her then, even at that young age, understood what was happening.

“Are you- did I- you aren't hurt, are you?” Amy asked, her wide eyes searching Hope’s features for any sign of pain or anger.

“I'm fine, are you okay?”

“Yes, yeah. My butt cushioned my fall.” Amy reasoned, and Hope found it oddly charming.

Hope smile, reaching up to pull what looked like straw from Amy’s hair, unsure how that even got there.

Amy looked bashful, ducking her head and peering at Hope through her eyelashes as Hope held up the straw.

“How did that even get there?”

“Molly was kicking the grass clippings around.” Amy explained.

“Girls?” the coach called as she made her way to them. “You both okay?”

“Yes, ma'am.” Amy quickly scrambled to her feet.

“Then get back to your team, you too, Hope.”

Hope found herself more attuned to Amy after that day, her eyes wandering to her in class, which Amy never noticed, of course she didn't, she was hyper focused on the teacher, scribbling notes in her book.

Amy made her giddy in a way boys never had.

She was eleven when she finally brought up the subject with Ruby, who was back from college for Christmas.

“Spit it out, loser.” Ruby said one night after they finished building a fort in the living room..

“Do you love Laura?” The question took Ruby completely by surprise, glancing over at Hope. “I mean, you guys have been together forever.”

“Yeah, no, I do love her.” Ruby answered. “You just took me by surprise. Why were you thinking about that?”

“I think I like someone. A girl.” Hope clarified, her shoulders lifting in a shrug. “She doesn't really know I exist, we've only talked a few times.”

“It’s tough, kid, trying to figure out where you stand with girls.” Ruby explained. “Sometimes you think maybe they're into you but they are just being friendly.”

Hope learned that the hard way at summer camp when she was thirteen.

Whatever it was she was feeling for Amy was still lingering, but there was this girl, her name was Ashley and she looked enough like Amy that Hope was smitten immediately.

They became fast friends, and on the last night Hope kissed her.

There was nasty words thrown at her, and when Ruby came to pick her up Hope hugged her tight and cried.

That summer had been one of the worst of her life.

First that happened with Ashley, then her parents got divorced and her father moved halfway across the country. That caused her middle sister to spiral, drinking and almost killing herself when she wrapped her car around a tree. Her mother was depressed, Jessie had to go through months of rehab to even be able to walk fully supported by a zimmer, and Ruby was angry, which almost caused her to break up with Laura.

And Hope was just there, trying to keep her family together while her ass of a father ran away with, Hope found out later, the nineteen year old he was having an affair with.

So, Hope decided to protect herself after that summer, she became coarse and mean, even after Ruby sat down with her and told her to not let this stuff rot her, to let it make her kind instead of nasty.

But it was easier to be nasty, it was what people expected of her, she was pretty, and tall, and people looked at her and in an instant decided she was mean, and that made it easier for them to hate her, so she became what everyone wanted her to.

The first time she was mean to Amy it kind of hurt, watching her smile fade, the hurt in her eyes, it didn't become any easier to be mean to Amy, but it was necessary, Amy had too much of a hold over her.

Amy came out in tenth grade, and Hope felt something akin to, well, hope in her chest, maybe Amy would like her, maybe she had a shot.

Then she noticed how Amy stared at Ryan, all wide eyes and soft smiles, and that hurt.

Part of Hope wondered what Ryan had that she didn't, she figured it was because Ryan was nice, always smiling and being friendly, Hope hadn't said anything to Amy that wasn't horrible or sarcastic all school year.

So Hope understood, Amy wanted someone who was nice, who was sweet, she deserved better than Hope, and maybe that was Ryan.

Everything in Hope was getting too much and it was rotting, making Hope rotten.

Ruby noticed when she was back for Christmas, both her and Laura brandishing their new engagement rings.

And Hope knew she should be happy for then, she thinks maybe she would be if she could force herself to feel anything.

Ruby pulled her aside during her stay, checking in with her and asking her too many questioned that, honestly, Hope didn't have the answers too.

The first time she had sex she was fifteen, with a college student she met at the bar they had gone to after Ruby’s wedding.

Sex wise, it was great, it felt great, but as soon as it was over Hope rolled out of bed, the girl still coming down from her orgasm, pulling on her clothes and leaving with barely a flick of her wrist over her shoulder as a goodbye.

That was the start nameless girls and sleepless nights. Sex was just sex, never feelings, never romantic, just a means to realise stress, a way of kind of dealing with the fact she essentially felt nothing almost all the time.

She started drink, then smoking weed and she was spiraling, and she didn't know how to stop.

She knew what was happening when she got home one night and her mother, and two sisters were sitting at the kitchen table, all serious.

Hope scream at them, claiming they didn't understand, but then she broke down in her mother's arms when she told her she had to deal with her father leaving, because he wasn't coming back.

Her sisters, came into her room that night, Ruby in front of her, Jessie behind her, both enclosing her in a hug.

“I like girls, Jess,” Hope whispered against Ruby’s chest.

“Yeah, we know.” Jessie hummed. “It's kinda obvious, kid. We've all known since you were a kid.”

Hope pulled back to frown up at Ruby.

“I didn't tell’em, all of us have known since you were a child.” Ruby shrugged.

“I don't know what to do, I don't-- I don't feel anything anymore.”

“We looked into therapist, we found a good one, whenever you're ready she is willing to see you.” Jessie said, her fingers ticking her arm.

Hope nodded, cuddling closer to Ruby, Jessie shuffling tight against her.

Hope went to therapy when she was sixteen, she put it off as long as she could, but after having what was a borderline breakdown upon hearing her father was having a baby with the woman he ran away with.

Hope had expected her to be old, and a little condescending, and kind of shitty.

But she was young, and nice, and she managed to pull things from Hope that Hope didn't even know she was struggling with.

They even spoke about Amy, but Hope had just shrugged and said she had a crush on her years ago that had never really disappeared, but she had accepted that it was something that would never happen.

She deal with her father, and everything that happened that summer, everything that had happened since.

She stopped the casual hookups and the drunken nights, she kept smoking but didn't spend all day stoned. She was still kind of a bitch, but she wasn't as nasty as before.

Amy kissing her took her completely but surprise, prompting her to pull away, her eyes a little wide before she schooled her expression, grinning at Amy before kissing her again. She pushed away the thought that Amy was only doing this because she was upset.

Technique wise, the kiss wasn't the best, but feeling wise it surpassed anything she had experienced before.

Her heart was rattling again against her chest, her lips almost burning, her hand sliding up Amy’s back to caress the back of her head while Amy pushed her jacket away.

All in all, the night was a bit of a shambles, with the mishap during sex, and Amy throwing up on her, it was kind of horrible.

“You okay, kiddo?” Jessie asked, barely glancing from the TV, but Ruby, who was visiting for her graduation, glanced back at her.

“I guess,” Hope hummed, falling down on the sofa in between her sisters, staring at the TV with a little frown. “Amy kissed me.”

Both her sisters heads whipped to her. “What?” Ruby asked.

“How was it?”

“Kind of awful, she threw up on me.”

Jessie laughed, but Ruby frowned.

“I don't know, I guess it was awful, but it felt great.” Hope sighed, sliding down on the sofa. “But she was upset about something, so I don't think it's meant anything.”

Jessie stopped laughing, and Ruby pulled her in for a hug.

“Are you seeing her again?”

“I don't think so,” Hope shook her head. "I'm going away during the summer, then I'm going to Bard, I don't even know where Amy is going. Maybe I should just let it go.”

“Maybe,” Ruby hummed, both she and Jessie leaning into her and speaking at the same time. “Or,”

“Or?”

“Or you could give it one last hail Mary?” Jessie suggested.

“Go see her, talk to her, it's out there now that there is something between you two, this is your in.” Ruby added.

“What's the worst that could happen?” Jessie said.

“She could reject me.”

“Mm,” Ruby hummed. “But she did throw up on you, so, really, who should be more embarrassed?”

Hope chuckled, letting her head fall against Ruby’s shoulder.

“Just give it a shot, kiddo.” Jessie leaned against Hope, who lifted her arm to let her sister settle against her comfortably. “She could be your Laura.”

Hope hummed, taking comfort in her sisters as she thought the idea over.

Turning up at Amy’s door had kind of been a last minute thing, watching the girls make that obnoxious entrance and knowing that she had spent the night in jail, she decided to throw caution to the wind and head over.

Amy was all stuttery and bashful, and Hope thought then that maybe Amy kind of liked her too, the offer of a place to crash if she ended up in Botswana, kind of confirmed it to her.

She gave Amy her number along with a note;

‘maybe we can try last night again? Not on a bathroom floor, and without the throwing up?’

Amy had texted her before she even got home apologising about the throwing up thing, and the finger thing, and Hope endured the teasing from her sisters after they caught her grinning down at her phone.

There was still a question mark over the whole thing, Amy was going away for a year, but she was going to be in New York after that, and she did invite Hope to Botswana during the summer.

So, for now, Hope was content with the odd text, then the occasional call on a janky satellite phone while she was somewhere in Europe.

She was more than happy to wait to see where this would lead.

6 notes · View notes

aliypop · 6 years ago

Text

Justice High

Word Count:1,279

Character Count:6,906

A/N: So I was inspired to write a Superhero High school au due to DC superhero girls. So I thought what would that look like with my character Yonah?

"Look, I'm glad you've saved everyone and all that, but it's time someone told you, to take care of you," Hal said patting Barry on the shoulder. "I'm fine." He replied only with a sigh from his lips. " Do you think coach Garrick is gonna be hard on us today?" the young speedster asked walking down the hall of Justice Highschool where tomorrow's hero's start today."You see Allen I'm not a speedster so... I wouldn' know" Hal laughed "But I heard there's a new girl." he winked nudging him. "Aren't you dating Carol though?" Barry added before walking by one of the most popular groups of the school The Robins, the robins were all rumored to be Batman's sidekick, and some even believed that they were his children, but the one thing that no one knew were their secret identities. "What's your damage, Robin." "Sorry, Robin." Yeah, they were the talk of the school except for one. WHAM! the sound of books crashed as well as a person or maybe three "Hey are you okay." the heroin asked pushing her mask back up as the only thing in her sight was a red hoodie "Yeah I'm fine." Barry smiled "Let me help you up maybe?" "Pink Fury!" one of the Robins called out "we're gonna be late to class!" "I gotta go see you around?" she waved as he only sat there realizing he would be late which wasn't new to him by any means.

"Alright as you all know Track season is coming and we can't lose to Excelsior High again," Jay said with a loving sigh "So I'm putting my trust in you guys that we won't have another fumble, Mercury..." he glared at him for a second before another set of footsteps walked towards him . "Sorry, I'm late." the voice said smiling as she looked around seeing the guy she had almost nearly run over. " Class this our new student Pink Fury," Jay said with a smile, "Flash can tell you the ropes of everything," he said pointing her in his direction. "So you think you got what it takes to join speedster 101," Max questioned chuckling a bit at the masked student. "It's more than just running not even Jesse made it." he snickered"and the name Pink Fury definitely won't last long." "I'll try to keep up then." she smiled taking her mask off" And, the name's Yonah by the way," she smirked pushing her hair back into a ponytail. "Well let's see what you got," Jay said as he held out his timer. A flash of pink ran around the track before the timer even set off to stop "How long was that coach?" she asked as a chuckle was heard. "100 laps in one second." he laughed "That's around Johnny Quick's speed... and he was like a speed god..." he sighed. "How did you do that?" Barry asked blushing hard "That was amazing you're faster than me!" he laughed. "Well I try, but you're the amazing one," she added. "You get to go and save everyone me... well." she sighed " It's complicated, but hey what's your next class?" "Unabridged History of Heroes. And you?" he asked. "I have intergalactic space studies, but my other class is combat 101." she laughed holding his hand "If none of that works just call me and we can totally hang out?" "Yeah.. perfectly fine maybe you'd like to go out with me!" he blurted out before realizing what he said "Unless you don't want to -," he said as she kissed him on the cheek." I would love to" she laughed as the bell rang. After school was always when the fun things happened at Justice High well when the villains weren't running amuck about on campus that was. "HEY GIVE THAT BACK !" someone shouted as a cloud of red and blue smoke was seen, and a sound of a crackling whip was heard. "Make me!" The New Jersey sounding accent said back before bumping into someone else. "Return It Harleen..." Yonah looked at her seeing she was holding a lasso in her hand. "But it's mine now!" she pouted stomping her foot as the lasso was no longer in her hands and now of the hands of the heroin "If you excuse me I will be taking this back to its rightful owner!"Yonah smiled as she handed Donna Troy back her lasso with a wink. She wished she could say that everyone chanted and clapped and cheered but no mostly everyone just wanted to leave the campus and go home. "What you did back there was brave," a familiar voice said to her patting her on the back. "Ms. Prince!" Yonah said kneeling "You're awesomeness it was nothing." she laughed trying to remain calm as she was in front of her favorite hero of all time. "Not many would do that," she added as the young girl blushed. "we're hero's it's what we do!" she cheered. "Hey, Fury!" Max shouted from across the parking lot waving her over to what they called it Speedster row speeding over she stood next to Barry who was working on his English work from Ms. Lane and standing next to Jesse Quick who was also working on homework. "Hey Max how's it going..." she laughed looking at the speedster who seemed nervous about something or more so someone. "How would you ask out someone." He asked as Yonah looked over to Barry. "Well for starters I would be myself and say something like.." she paused for a second "I like your Flash Gordon T-Shirt the colors compliment your eye's Barry " she smiled as she kept going "Maybe you and I could watch that new James Bond movie say tonight at 7?" "Yeah... I would love that." Barry smiled looking up from his writing as he held her hand "It's a date right?" He questioned causing her to giggle as she took him by the hand "Only if you want it to be." she laughed a bit harder as he smiled back at her.

"And that's when I found out I had powers!" Yonah laughed sitting with Barry on the couch in the movie room as Alfred bought in more popcorn. "You ran into the Christmas tree!" he laughed alongside her. "Yeah my dad was pissed, but it was funny." she sighed as she rested her head on his shoulder. "So are you worried about that track meet coming up?" He added as she let in a deep breath "Terrified actually, but I heard Jesse is also running too so not that scared." she huffed eating one of his gummy worms as he pulled her close "Max can be terrifying ..." Barry added "But he means well... most times." he laughed before hearing footsteps walk by. "You kids okay?" The most familiar low voice said as Barry turned around to look at the shadow. "We're fine dad, just be careful out there," she said smiling at Barry who was shocked. "Batman is your dad..." He gasped "Which means that Bruce-" "Yes, they're the same person." she leaned in kissing him sweetly before hearing someone clearing their throat. "That's too close to my daughter Mr. Allen.." Bruce grumbled as Yonah growled, "Dad you're ruining my date night..." she looked at him embarrassed as he had vanished "Happens every time." she mumbled her head in the palm of her hand. A trail of robins leading behind in the mansion as Yonah rolled her eyes " I would have us finish this movie upstairs but.." she laughed "This is fine." Barry added, "You have the coolest family ever!"

#DC comics #high school au #fanfiction #Barry Allen #yonah shanel wayne #hal jordan #diana prince #new stuff #new things #maybe new series #tell me what you think

2 notes · View notes