#no caption i got nothing short and witty to say

[deimostes]

[i-need-entertainment]

Haikyuu!! Boys getting accidentally flashed by their girlfriend

Characters: Akaashi, Washio, Konoha, Kita, Suna, Ushijima, Yahaba, Iwaizumi, Futakuchi and Daishou

TW- second hand embarrassment, flashing someone, mentions of cleavage and underwear.

Akaashi Keiji:

You knew he was coming over today, you just forgot..that he....was coming over today....

In all fairness, you tried to look at least a little presentable, but after you threw on some sweatpants and a sports bra, you kind of got distracted?

And seeing as at the moment it was just you, chilling around in a sports bra didn’t seem like that big of a deal.

Which is why when you heard a soft knock at your door and your name being called by your boyfriend, you didn’t hesitate to say ‘come in’, not realizing your mistake until he walked in. 

As soon as you saw his eyes widen and the tips of his ears turn red, you remembered not finishing getting dressed.

Being the gentleman he is he promptly turned around and let you put a shirt on.

I’m sure you’ll laugh about it someday but until then...suffer lol.

Washio Tatsuki: 

You had been invited to the beach with your boyfriend’s high school volleyball team, Fukurodani.

Seeing as they are a volleyball team, they decided to play a game of beach volleyball, you and the two managers were of course included.

Everything was going great. Your team was winning, Bokuto hadn’t gone into an emo mode, and everyone was having fun.

Everything was perfect until a wonky spike made by Konoha went a little further than you had anticipated, causing you to drive for it.

Surprising even yourself, you successfully got the ball up. But as soon as you stood up, Washio pulled you into a tight hug, looking up to him from your place at his chest you were met with the reddest face you’ve ever seen from your boyfriend.

We’re talking redder than when he asked you to be his girlfriend red.

You asked him ‘What?’ and he said in a small voice, ‘your top came off’.

Looking down, you indeed realized that your top had come completely off, but thanks to your boyfriend’s quick reflex’s, no one other than you and poor, poor Washio saw anything.

Continuing to shield you from your friends, he quickly picked up your top, dusted it off and handed it to you, turning around so you could put it on, and tying it so you both could be sure it wouldn’t come undone again.

Konoha Akinori: 

You and your boyfriend had been hanging out at your house during the summer.

It had become increasingly hotter throughout the day, so you ran up to your room to change into something a bit cooler. You didn’t think anything of it when you chose a comfortable tank top to wear, figuring you were at home anyways so it didn’t matter.

You of course missed the slight widening of your boyfriends eyes when you came downstairs. 

You two were just chilling at the table drinking some iced tea, scrolling on your phones and what not, when you leaned down onto your elbows.

The tank top you were wearing was less than helpful, because along with you leaning forward, your top was cut quite low.

Fortunately you caught it pretty quickly and of course apologized to your boyfriend. He muttered a ‘it’s fine’ before awkwardly laughing and moving on, leaning down so his hair could hide just how pink his cheeks had gotten.

Little do the two of you know how long that will haunt both of you.

Kita Shinsuke: 

The two of you were on a date, you guys had just gotten out of the movies and were talking and walking around the nearby park.

The two of you were walking hand in hand, just enjoying being in each other’s presence really.

You were just about to tell him something when the wind picked up, picking your skirt up along with it.

You of course were quick to grab the hem of your skirt to tug it back down, but the damage had already been done.

He had been looking at you waiting for you to speak when your skirt had lifted. Giving him a...view. You were quick to apologize, and so was he. He assured you he didn’t see anything....but the thing was level with your waist so you know he did, he’s just too much of gentleman to embarrass you further.

Suna Rintaro: 

Every morning, one of the first things you do is send your boyfriend a ‘good morning’ snap.

It was a normal, everyday thing, so you didn’t think much of it when you sent the first picture you took. 

Unfortunately for you, you didn’t look back at the picture you had taken.

About five minutes later you received a snap back from your boyfriend.

It was a picture with his hand over his eyes and a caption that said ‘look down’, and after doing so and realizing the shirt you had slept in had slipped down, you were quick to send back another picture (this time with a fixed top) apologizing.

Him being the chill guy he is let it go, but it did end up being quite the wake up for both of you.

Ushjima Wakatoshi: 

You had expressed to your boyfriend that you had wanted to start exercising more, and with him being the fitness buff he is, he was more than happy to help.

The two of you were working out at your house, just a simple warm up and some lighter exercises so you could get used to it.

You got into a plank position and got started, or did your best, him being the great boyfriend he is encouraged you and kept his mouth shut.

Well, about the pushups anyways. Not long after you had started he had leaned over and pulled your top further down your back, telling you it was showing your chest as he leaned back like nothing had happened.

Realization kicked in not long after for you, realizing that not only had you flashed your boyfriend, but he had nonchalantly fixed your top for you like nothing had happened at all.

Then again, that’s only because you were too focused on your own embarrassment to notice the light pink dusting his face.

Yahaba Shigeru: 

Every morning Yahaba picked you up for school and the two of you drove together.

And seeing as it was now in the warmer months of the school year, you no longer had to wear tights and could now just wear the skirt.

When you guys got to the school Yahaba exited the car and made his way to your door to open it like he did every morning.

And after months of not having to worry about showing anything you had swung your legs out of the car like you had in the winter.

Except that now there were no tights to stop from showing your underwear off when your skirt had lifted, giving an unintentional ‘show’ to your chivalrous, albeit now red, boyfriend.

You now wear shorts under your skirt.

Iwaizumi Hajime: 

You had a habit of taking your boyfriend’s clothes, his sweatshirts being your favorite item of his to leech.

Currently you were wearing a gray hoodie he had bought recently, but let you borrow since he knows how much you like wearing them.

Usually he has no problem with you wearing his stuff, but for this particular look, he just so happened to need the one you were currently wearing.

He asked for it, and you being the benevolent girlfriend you are, gladly gave it to him.

Er, you tried to, you had a little trouble getting it over your head. In other words, you were stuck.

Calling for help from your beefy boyfriend you tried once again to get it off.

Iwaizumi, being the benevolent boyfriend he is, tried to help you untangle yourself from the sweatshirt. Only to be flashed when you finally got it off your head.

The particular sweatshirt you were wearing was a bit of a tighter fit, and it caught the sleeves of your shirt juuust right to where when you two finally got it off, it took your shirt along with it.

Iwaizumi froze before picking up another sweatshirt of his and shoving it over your head, mumbling things before he stopped when he heard your laugh mixed with apologies.

He now makes sure to ask for his sweatshirts in advance.

Futakuchi Kenji: 

The two of you had decided to get something to eat after school since Futakuchi didn’t have practice and your afternoon was free as well.

For the entirety of the school day, your uniform top has been giving you issues.

When you initially got your uniform it had come in a size too small, so you of course got another one, but yesterday you had spilled something on your shirt and needed a replacement.

It still fit well enough, it was just a tad bit too snug in some areas.

Specifically your chest.

The two of you had sat down, waiting for your order to be called when you noticed your boyfriend had gone uncharacteristically quiet.

You looked at him and he just nodded down to your shirt before whispering that ‘you’re button came undone’.

You were of course quick to button it back up and were about to apologize when he hushed you, choosing to instead place his blazer over your shoulders, assuring you that it was fine and ‘you just need to pay more attention dummy’ and some other witty remarks.

Although it was very obvious they were made to distract you from the burning red adorning his neck and ears.

Daishou Suguru: 

I know what you’re thinking ‘oH sUrE iT wAs An AcCiDeNt’ BUT IT WAS.

You two have been dating for a while now, so it wasn’t unusual for the two of you to barge into each other’s rooms.

On this specific day, you had just finished taking a shower when he had come over. He was not aware you had just gotten out of the shower and you didn’t know he was there.

You made your way to your room dressed in a bath towel, drying off as you got your clothes and such ready.

You were just about to drop your towel when your bedroom door opened, revealing your boyfriend.

You were quick to tighten your grip on the towel and he was quick to turn around and leave your room, loudly shouting apologies as you yelled his name.

You were able to laugh it off later when he assured you he only saw a bit of your chest, but that doesn’t make up for the utter hUMILIATION you were feeling. And probably will feel for the rest of your life :)

[lesbianzhane]

gigi goode does NOT simp (crygi)

gigi goode is a popular instagram designer and model. her friend, jan, constantly posts photos with a pretty girl that gigi falls head over heels for. when nicky throws a party, and that pretty girl just so happens to be there with jan, gigi knows that her friend was pulling out some sort of scheme. 

ao3 link!

Gigi never liked to call herself an ‘influencer’. The word seemed far too snobby, and she really didn’t believe she was all that big of a deal online. Sure, she had a couple hundred thousand (closer to a million, really) followers. But, in the grand scheme of things, did that really matter? People would tire of her one day, they’d find another pretty fashionista to gush over in the span of a year. For the time being, she just wanted to bask in whatever glow she had. The fame would come and go, and soon she’d be left with nothing but the memory of her silly little instagram account. 

Speaking of, the blonde haired girl set up her next post. Her caption had been some witty pun made up by her best friend, Jackie, because obviously she wouldn’t think of something so endearing yet stupid at the same time. Gigi usually ripped her captions from stupid things her friends would say, or she would force Nicky to translate some song lyric into french and use that. She wasn’t exactly the most creative when it came to captioning her posts, but she made up for it with the fact that the clothes she wore were all hand designed. 

Ever since she could remember, Gigi loved fashion. She loved being able to make things that people loved and wished they owned themselves. She adored the way that people would ask her where she got a garment, and how she could answer that she made it herself. Most inspiration she had came from her mother. She had been a seamstress as well, and as a child Gigi would watch her work. She was fascinated with how easily her mother put together clothes, and she started designing at a young age. It’s what led her to where she was now. 

Gigi began posting her outfits on Instagram a year prior. She didn’t expect it to go anywhere, really. So, when she started gaining followers, she was completely shocked. People actually liked her designs and her fashion enough to follow her. Enough to anticipate her next post. It was mind boggling to her. 

As she hit post, she scrolled down her Instagram feed. It was mostly filled with her friends. Jackie’s silly little Star Trek stan account that she had insisted Gigi followed, and Nicky’s own fashion account. Jackie had even forced her to follow the girl she had been pining after for years now, Jan, and she could have sworn the girl combusted when she got that follow notification. The direct message that followed consisted of a fully caps locked message, and a whole bunch of spelling mistakes that Gigi couldn’t even count. 

Pausing her scrolling, one post in particular caught her eye. It was from Jan, posted about an hour ago. In the photo, Jan was smiling brightly with a taller girl standing by her side. Her bouncy red curls were flying all over the place, and her smile lit up the entire photo. Gigi loved when Jan posted photos like this. She didn’t even know the name of the mystery person, and there was never an account tagged in the photos. Gigi was left wondering who that beautiful girl was, and of course she brought it up everytime she saw Jan. 

Gigi could recall the most recent time she brought up the mystery girl. Her, Jan and Jackie were gathered around a busy diner booth, all sharing one basket of fries. It was a silly idea, because Jan could eat far faster than the other two, so by the time Gigi had tuned back into the conversation, half the basket was already gone. She didn’t really mind though. She was aimlessly scrolling through her Instagram, as she does, when another photo of the mystery girl popped up on her feed. She slid her phone towards Jan, quirking an eyebrow. 

“Who is this?” Gigi had a rather harsh tone of voice, and oftentimes she sounded meaner than she had intended to. But, Jan knew her well enough to see past that. 

“That’s me and my friend, why?” Jan was much more upbeat than Gigi was. Sometimes, the blonde would wonder if Jan had ever felt any emotion aside from happiness. 

“Yeah but like, what’s her name? Her Instagram?” Gigi pressed forward. 

A grin spread onto Jan’s lips, and she snatched Gigi’s phone up. “Are you being a simp? Are you simping for my friend who you have never met?”

“What does that even mean?” Gigi attempts to snatch her phone away from Jan, all while Jackie sits back and does nothing to help her. Some best friend she is. “Jackie, help me.”

“I want no part in whatever you two are doing.” Jackie throws her hands up, before taking another fry and popping it into her mouth. It’s so like Jackie to not get involved in their silly squabble, it makes Gigi wonder why she loves the girl so much. Except, not really. She knows why. 

“Give me my phone! I don’t even know what a simp is.” Gigi stretches across the table until she’s practically kneeling on it. It’s garnered the attention from other occupants in the diner, most of them wondering what the hell this twenty something year old is doing. Gigi pays no mind, finally grasping her phone and sinking back down into her seat. 

Jan goes on to explain exactly what a simp is to Gigi, and the girl can't even deny the fact that maybe she is simping a little bit. She doesn’t think it really counts though, she’s never sent this mystery person any money. She doesn’t even know her name for crying out loud. 

It’s about a week later, and Gigi still has no answers to who this person is. Jan refuses to tell her, for whatever reason. She has to push those thoughts aside for the moment, because their close friends are throwing a party that evening and she still has yet to get dressed. She moved over to her closet, rifling through her clothes for something suitable. It wasn’t something super fancy, so she could skip out on long gowns. She didn’t really feel like showing up in a cocktail dress either, though. 

After searching for an allotted time that she doesn’t really want to admit, Gigi finds the perfect outfit. It’s a turtleneck shirt that hugs her figure like a glove, and it has a beautiful floral print on it. She pairs it with a simple high waisted short, tucking the shirt into them. It makes her waist look skinny, and her legs long. She adds a small little pink scarf tied around her neck. She pairs it with a matching pair of pink boots that make her even taller, and she looks over her outfit in the mirror. It’s perfect for a casual party, plus she looks pretty enough for anyone new she might meet. 

Grabbing her purse, she slips her keys into her hand and heads out the door. Thoughts of the mystery girl are completely void from her mind, which was rare. She was glad for the distraction though, and she drove towards Nicky’s house with Clario blasting throughout her car. 

Nicky has much more money than Gigi did. Her house was larger than Gigi thought was possible, and the other woman surely didn’t need that much space. It helped though, when she had parties like this. Though it was mostly kept to close friends, other friends were brought around and it made the house bustle with noise. Gigi stepped inside without even knocking, knowing Nicky well enough that she didn’t find it necessary to do such a thing. 

As she was crossing the main hall to go find where her friends were tucked away, she saw her. Long legs covered by a pair of worn out denim jeans that were absolutely covered in iron on patches. She was wearing a bright green blouse that hung loosely off her shoulders, and it was unbuttoned enough to reveal the white tank top she was wearing underneath. Bracelets and necklaces clinked together every time the girl moved, and there were the signature red curls adorning her head. She looked even prettier in real life. 

Before she could even take a deep breath, Jan was by her side tugging on her wrist. Gigi stumbles a bit, still a little dazed from seeing the mystery girl from all those photos right in front of her. “Hey girl! You drooling? Better pick your mouth up off the floor before she notices!”

The music from the house pumps in her ears, and she can barely hear Jan making fun of her because of it. Barely being the key word here. Gigi shoves her, puffing out her cheeks. “I didn’t know she would be here. You should have told me, you bitch!” 

Jan simply laughs, grabbing Gigi’s wrist and pulling her over towards her. She can feel her heart in her throat as they get closer, and Gigi has time to appreciate just how beautiful this girl is. Sure, her fashion is louder than Gigi’s, and she certainly looked more creative than herself. Her features were soft, her lips look fuller in person if that was even possible. Gigi was absolutely blown away, how was it possible for someone to be that pretty?

Before she could get over whatever she was feeling, the mystery girl was right in front of her. Her smile lit up the whole room, and Gigi was finding it difficult to even breathe in the presence of this girl. She was already striking up a conversation with Jan that Gigi was tuning out. In favor of listening, she was simply staring at the girl and hoping that she would be swallowed by the floor. She couldn’t do this, she couldn’t talk to someone this pretty. All the confidence she prides herself on having was washing away. And then, that smile was directed at her, and she thought she might just pass out.

“Hi! I’m Crystal!” Crystal. That was her name. Such a perfect name for such a perfect girl. Gigi thought that Crystal suited her, considering she was about as unique as a crystal. None of them looked perfectly the same, and they all stood out on their own. 

“Uh..” Gigi stuttered over her words, looking around the room as if she had forgotten her own name. “Gigi! I’m… Gigi.”

“Pretty name for such a pretty girl!” Crystal shot her a wink, and Gigi felt her heart stop in her chest. The way the music pounded made her feel dizzy, and Crystal giving her that flirty little smile wasn’t helping at all. Gigi simply laughed the compliment off, waving her hand and excusing herself from the two of them. She needed to get some air. 

Stepping out onto Nicky’s back patio, Gigi looked down at the pool below her. There was a small staircase that led down to the pool's edge, and with the beginning of summer fast approaching, Nicky had just opened up the pool. The water shone with the sunset, rippling and allowing Gigi to get lost in her thoughts. The mystery girl, Crystal, had actually been here. Jan was probably planning this all along. Gigi wouldn’t be surprised if the reason she kept any and all information a secret was for this exact night. Actually, she guaranteed that was the reason. 

Reaching into her pocket, Gigi took out the one object that always brought her comfort. Her phone. She opened her Instagram, scrolling through her notifications until a certain name popped out at her. 

crystalemethyd has followed you!

Crystal Methyd. That was her full name. She clicked onto the page, finding herself lost in scrolling through pictures of the beautiful girl. Her follower count was low, and it was clear that this was a personal account and not a business one like Gigi’s. Crystal's vibrant smile captivated her, and she didn’t even hear the door to the patio opening. She was far too engrossed in the current photo of Crystal holding up her cat and laughing at the camera. The way her eyes crinkled slightly was absolutely adorable, and Gigi couldn’t tear her eyes away from it. 

“That’s my cat, Tic Tac.” The sudden voice behind her startled her, and Gigi nearly dropped her phone down into the pool water below them. She took a deep breath, locking her phone quickly and pressing a hand to her chest. 

“You can’t just sneak up on somebody like that, jeez!” Gigi puffed up her cheeks, though her voice was much softer than she intended. Crystal just laughed quietly at her, holding her arms up. 

“I’m sorry! You were just standing out here by yourself, thought you could use some company.” Crystal shrugged, and Gigi had to force herself to look away from those perfectly painted lips. She looked up to the sky, watching the way it melted from a light purple to a beautiful pink. The edges of the sun were setting, and she could see how all the colors blended together to make a masterpiece. 

“So…” Crystal broke the silence. “Why are you out here scrolling through my Instagram? Are you some sort of stalker or something?” The playful grin on her lips made Gigi’s heart tremble, and she looked away quickly. 

“No! I just noticed you followed me.” She swallowed. Since when was she this awkward? Never in her life had she found herself fumbling for words like this. “I’ve seen pictures of you and Jan before. You were never tagged in any of them.”

“Oh yeah, I didn’t want Jan’s followers like hounding me or something.” Crystal laughed again. “People on the internet are scary. And mean.”

It was the first time since she had seen Crystal that her smile faltered. There was a flash of nervousness, of insecurity in her eyes before it was replaced by that confident aura that seemed to follow her. “Yeah.” Was all Gigi could bring herself to say. 

The two of them stood in a comfortable silence for a few minutes, both sneaking glances at the other. Gigi still couldn’t believe how beautiful Crystal was in person, and that fact that she was really standing in front of her was starting to settle in. As if the silence was actually physically hurting her, Crystal brought her hands down onto the railing of the patio, forcing Gigi to look over to her. 

“Well, it’s been great standing here and doing nothing.” Crystal starts, and Gigi assumes that she must think she’s the most boring person in the whole world. “But, Jan is going to throw a fit if I don’t help her with Jackie. That’s why I’m here after all. And for this mystery girl who has been simping over me for a while.”

Crystal winks at her, and Gigi feels her entire face go red. Of course Jan had told her about that, because why wouldn’t she. She swore that she would get back at her at some point, probably by using Jackie against her. Really though, she knew that Jackie wouldn’t go along with it. 

Crystal grabbed her arm, producing a pen from her pocket. Gigi hadn’t even realized what was happening until she felt the numbers being scrawled across her arm. They were loopy and beautiful, and she never wanted to wash them off. She gasped at the numbers that were clear for anyone to see, and Crystal just grinned at her. 

“You do know I have my phone with me, right?” Gigi challenges her, and Crystal just waves her hand.

“Where’s the romance in that, miss Goode?” With those final words, Crystal shoots her one last wink and disappears into the house. Gigi is left standing there, mouth hung open as she tries to process what had just happened. Did Crystal want to go out with her? Was this a date invitation?

Gigi had no idea. But she took her phone out, copied the number into it and put a cute little heart next to Crystal’s contact name. After a few deep breaths, she went back inside to find where the hell Nicky and Jackie were. Plus, she wanted to see whatever scheme Jan had planned to swoop Jackie off her feet. 

Gigi never really understood slang, despite her follower count. Most of it went over her head, and she wasn’t well versed in meme culture. But, in the words of Jan, maybe she was a simp. 

And maybe that was okay.

[walkerismychoice]

Stripped Bare - Chapter 12 (Bryce X MC AU)

Book: Open Heart

Pairing: Bryce X MC (Charlie Hawkins)

Summary: It’s the day of the bachelor and bachelorette parties. How will Bryce react to Charlie being around strippers that aren’t him?

Rating: Mature/18+ (Again nothing explicit, but there is stripping in this one and lots of alcohol consumption)

Word Count: 3457

"My hair is going to be down, so I want everyone else’s hair up," Katelyn dictates to the stylists. "I'm thinking a lower chignon for all of them, but I don’t want them to be too matchy-matchy, so make them a little unique.”

The stylists get to work as Katelyn floats around from chair to chair micromanaging. Katelyn apparently doesn’t trust an unknown stylist for her own hair and is flying in her hair stylist from back home the day before the wedding. 

Kyra leans over towards Charlie when Katelyn moves to the other side of the salon to supervise the Sarahs. “Only Katelyn would make her bridesmaids get pre-approval on their hair like this. What a waste of time.”

“Seriously. But at least we have wine!” Charlie holds up her glass, and Kyra clinks hers against it.

Charlie’s stylist works with her natural curls, pulling it back and adding in floral hair piece. Much to Charlie’s surprise, Katelyn approves of it without any revisions, but the same cannot be said for the rest of the girls. After multiple reference pictures are taking, Charlie gets tired of waiting in the salon and goes and sits on a bench outside.

As she takes in the sights and sounds around her, she hears her phone buzz in her purse, pulling it out to see a series of texts in her group chat with Aurora, Sienna, and Jackie.

Sienna: Hello???? We haven't heard from you in days!

Jackie: What Sienna really wants to ask is, have you banged Bryce yet?

Sienna: Jackie!

Aurora: Come on Sienna. You're the one who bet she'd give it up by night two

Charlie: OMG you guys are the worst! No, I am not sleeping with Bryce

Jackie: At least it got you to talk to us finally. So you mean to tell me you've been spending 24/7 with the hottest guy we've ever met and you haven't hit that yet? What a waste. If that were me...

Charlie: Ugh, I'm putting my phone away now

Sienna: Wait!

Sienna: For real though, how are things going?

Charlie starts to type the truth, how she's fallen hard and thinks there's a chance he might feel the same, but then she erases it. If she puts it all out there to her friends, it means she's admitting it to herself as well, and she's still not ready for that.

Charlie: Katelyn is as awful as ever, but Bryce has been a model fake boyfriend. I'm not sure I'd be staying sane without him

Sienna: ❤

Jackie: Oh, you so want him! You better tell us when you finally hook up

Aurora: Yes, please do so these two can finally shut up about it

Charlie: Probably not happening

Sienna: But you're saying there's a chance!

Charlie: SMH. Talk to you guys later

~~~

The girls go straight to lunch from the salon. Charlie checks her phone during a lull in the conversation and sees a text from Bryce.

Bryce: How's it going? Are you missing me terribly yet?

Charlie rolls her eyes but she can't help but smile.

Charlie: Seems you are the one who can't go more than two hours without texting me. Who is missing who here?

Bryce: What can I say? I'm getting used to having you around. What are you doing?

Charlie: Eating lunch. You?

Bryce: I grabbed some lunch on the way back from the gym. Now I'm going to get in the shower.

Charlie: I see

Bryce: Picturing me naked now, aren't you? I can give you a little visual to go with that if you want

Charlie has no idea what he means by that and she’s both curious and afraid to find out. She tries to think up a witty reply to reject his offer, but it’s too late because a photo is already coming through. She glances around the table and shields her phone just in case, and when it fully loads she’s glad she did. The picture is of Bryce taking a selfie in the bathroom mirror, positioned just right that if the bottom of the mirror was any lower, she’d be getting an explicit view. The room suddenly feels about twenty degrees warmer and she fumbles to type her response.

Charlie: OMG Bryce! I’m in public you know

Bryce: That’s why I didn’t show you the rest 😉

Charlie: Very funny. I think I'll be getting my fair share of naked men tonight

Bryce: Hey! You don't need them when you have me

Charlie: Sorry, gotta go! TTYL

Charlie laughs to herself as she decides to put her phone away. She's starting to get looks for being on her phone so much, but she also likes having the upper hand with Bryce for once. She'd figured it was no coincidence Bryce kissed her the way that he did right after finding out there would be strippers at the bachelorette party, and his texts seem to confirm he's at least a little bit jealous. She thinks it's funny he's worried at all about them, but then again, look where she is with the last stripper she met.

They finish up lunch and Kyra and Charlie get a drink together at the bar before getting ready for the party. Charlie makes a point not to check her phone until she gets back to the suite, making herself comfortable on the bed before scrolling through his messages.

Bryce: You're killing me Charlie

Bryce: How about this

Bryce: You can skip any amateur league lap dances or whatever, and I'll give you one when you get back. Since you've already had the best, I'd hate for you to be disappointed by someone else's sub-par performance

Bryce: Deal?

Bryce: I'm headed out on the fishing boat now, so I might not be very available for the rest of the evening. Just be safe and have fun

Charlie is glad she’s alone because she’s probably got the stupidest grin on her face right now. Of course he uses his cocky front to pretend like he’d be doing her a service, but when she reads between the lines, she can’t deny any more that he’s into her. She’s still terrified of what it all means, but she just might be ready to take a risk and find out. 

~~~

“Damn, Charlie. You look hot!” Kyra compliments Charlie and her sweetheart neckline little black dress as she boards the party yacht. Katelyn gave strict instructions that all the bridesmaids were to wear black cocktail dresses, so she could stand out in white. At least they didn't have to wear any tacky "bride squad" t-shirts or penis paraphernalia.

“Thanks, you too! You’ve got legs for days!” Charlie remarks regarding Kyra’s short halter dress, and they both giggle.

"So what do you think of this boat? Pretty swanky, huh?"

"Yeah, I guess one good thing about Katelyn's desire to flaunt the family wealth is that we all get to benefit."

Kyra scoffs. "Must be nice to be on the rich side of the family."

"Oh, god, I'm sorry," Charlie apologizes. "My privileged asshole side is showing."

"Nah, you're good." Kyra claps her on the back. "For growing up like you did, you are surprisingly down to earth and relatively normal."

"And as painfully awkward and insecure as the best of them."

"Aww." Kyra pinches her playfully on the cheek. "That's what makes you so lovable. But not that insecurity crap. You are awesome and you should own it.”

Charlie sighs. “That’s the kind of thing Bryce keeps saying to me. Always telling me how amazing I am. It’s nauseating really.”

“Oh stop. If you don’t appreciate that man I will gladly take him off your hands.”

Charlie laughs. “No I’m good. I think I’ll keep him for awhile.” It comes out of her mouth so naturally, like she finally believes it’s a legit possibility rather than a hopeless fantasy. 

"So, should we grab a drink?” Kyra shifts her eyes to the bar.

Charlie holds her arm out, as if to escort Kyra. “I thought you’d never ask.”

The boat soon fills up with the remainder of the party guests - the Sarahs, Stephanie, Landry’s other groomsmen’s significant others, and a handful Katelyn's other friends that have just arrived in Jamaica for the wedding. They aren’t all bad, but Kyra and Charlie mainly stick together. As they move from cocktails through dinner, the guests are getting increasingly tipsy, and Stephanie appears to be rethinking her decision to be trapped at sea with a bunch of drunk women.

Charlie heads to the bathroom for a timeout from the noise and the crowd as they head to port to pick up the strippers. She’s proud of how well she’s pacing herself as she’s still determined not to get as drunk as that first night ever again. There’s still no new texts from Bryce on her phone, but then again she never did text him back. She scrolls up to his bathroom selfie to study it again and just looking at it makes her think unspeakable things. The tease is almost better than seeing the whole thing. 

Feeling a little brave with a couple of drinks in her, Charlie decides to send a selfie back. She fixes her hair in the mirror and straightens her dress. She’s got a decent amount of cleavage and her push-up bra is doing a fabulous job, but a little more wouldn’t hurt, so she adjusts her cups just so and snaps a picture, sending it off the caption, ‘hope you are having fun!’  Within seconds she can see Bryce is replying back.

Bryce: Woah. What are you doing wearing a dress like that when I’m not there to see you in it?

Charlie: There’s always later...

Bryce: I’m ready to go back to the room now if you are

Is he serious? It's tempting, but for a multitude of reasons, she can’t take him up on that offer even if he means it.

Charlie: But I can’t miss the strippers!

Bryce: You know I can take care of that for you

Charlie: But how do I know you are the best if I have nothing else to compare to?

Bryce: What am I going to do with you? 

Charlie: Maybe later you can show me

What's gotten into her? Just yesterday she could hardly look at Bryce without blushing and now she's sending him suggestive text messages.

Bryce: Oh, you bet I will

Well now she's blushing. Charlie splashes some cool water on her face and composes herself, rejoining the group just as the boat pulls up to the dock.

A short time later, two men dressed as law enforcement officers enter the boat. Charlie knows exactly what's going on, but with all the alcohol that's been collectively consumed, it causes a commotion. Charlie and Kyra sit back and laugh as everyone tries to figure out what's going on.

“Oh my god. They are all dumbasses.” Kyra rolls her eyes. “We stopped specifically to pick up the strippers.”

Charlie shakes her head. “This might be more entertaining than the actual show.”

“Ladies, we have a problem here.” The tall one with a Jamaican accent starts as the other shorter one with sandy blond hair pulls something out of his duffel bag. “You’ve started the party without us!”

Suddenly "Get Ur Freak On” starts blasting out of a small portable speaker and the two men tear away their shirts in unison. Once the initial confusion wears off, the drunk women start cheering. The strippers make their way to the makeshift stage area, while the party guests find seats in the chairs that were previously set up around it. Charlie and Kyra sit off as far as possible to the side to avoid being directly in the action. 

“Well they aren’t bad-looking at least,” Kyra assesses from afar. 

But they aren’t Bryce either. “They’re okay. Neither is really my type though.”

“Well when you have someone as perfect as Bryce, it’s hard to compare. I bet he’d make one hell of a good stripper.” Charlie shoots Kyra a look that in her mind conveys the terror of hitting too close to his secret being out, but Kyra must perceive it as something else. “Sorry, I know I shouldn’t thirst after your boyfriend like that, but I’ve seen the way he can move.”

Charlie laughs nervously. “I’ll suggest it as a backup career if the whole surgeon thing falls through.” She breathes a side of relief that Kyra doesn’t really know his secret, but talking about him makes her think to check her phone again, and sure enough there’s another text from Bryce.

Bryce: Help! Bob is trying to make me keep up with him, and dude is like a professional drinker

Charlie: I doubt he’s forcing drinks down your throat. You can pace yourself

Charlie: Anyway, gotta go. Strippers are here! Charlie takes a quick picture of the shirtless dancers, still with police hats on, and sends it to Bryce before stashing her phone away.

The strippers, or Clive and Dan as they have introduced themselves, continue on to do their stripper thing, getting down to their very tiny underwear with ass cheeks bared. Charlie’s time in the strip club two weeks ago was more than enough exotic dancing for her to see in person for one lifetime, but she is enjoying watching the other women act like fools. In fact, Katelyn seems far more interested in these men than she ever has in Landry, but that’s not surprising. She always figured Katelyn would go for the first available man who could put up with her. Katelyn completed her undergraduate, but her real goal was the Mrs. degree.

Dan comes over towards Charlie with a massage oil slicked chest and encourages her to rub her hands on him to which she politely declines. However, Kyra has no problem jumping right in, and Charlie gives her the side-eye as soon as he moves on.

“What? Just because this is cheesy as hell doesn’t mean we can’t have fun with it. So far the only man I have touched in any way, shape or form on this trip is Bob.” Kyra shudders. “You have Bryce’s abs. Let me have these.”

Charlie chuckles. “You’re right. Feel all the abs. No more judgement from me.” 

The men alternate taking paying customers back to the captain’s quarters for brief, private lap dances, and when Kyra is approached by Dan, she takes him up on it. Charlie uses it as an excuse to step outside and check in with Bryce.

Bryce: Dude, cop outfits? That is laaaaaaaame

Charlie: Says the man who dresses up as a surgeon

Roughly two minutes later, Bryce replies back

Bryce: But theirs is fake

Charlie: And yours isn’t?

Bryce: Ive hadd lots to drunk. Bobby can be persusave

Charlie: I can see that. Don’t drink too much more. I don’t think I could carry you home.

Bryce: Don’t worry I fiiine. And rememembre Im the only stripper who gets to give you a lapdance. 

Charlie: We’ll see about that

Charlie leaves it at that and heads back inside. What she means is that given the state he seems to be in, she doubts he’ll be in any condition for anything but but bed when they get back. If he interprets it as her teasing that she might get a lap dance from one of these guys, she’s okay with that. He didn’t heed her advice to slow down on the booze, so he shouldn’t expect her to follow his direction either.

The strip show winds down after Katelyn gets a very lengthy private lapdance with Clive that raises some eyebrows, and not long after the boat pulls into the dock where the women are meeting up with Landry’s party.

“Woah!” Charlie struggles to maintain her balance with her first couple steps. “I haven’t had that much to drink. I guess sea legs are a real thing.”

“Somehow its easier to be tipsy and walk in heels on a yacht than it is to walk on solid ground right now,” Kyra observes. “Oh look, the guys are already here.” She nods towards the shoreline where most of the men don’t look in any better shape than the women.

Despite the fact that most everyone could stand to go home and go to bed immediately, the majority decide to hit up more clubs downtown.

“I think Bryce, and I are just going to head back,” Charlie tells Kyra. 

“Oh, yes.” Bryce agrees. “I’ve been waiting all night to get this one to myself.” He grabs Charlie and gives her a big, sloppy drunk kiss.

Kyra laughs. “Have fun with that.”

“Are you sure you are good if I leave?” Charlie asks.

“Yeah, I’ll stick with the group. Plus Dan said he’d make sure I got back safely.” Kyra motions towards the now dressed in normal street clothes dancer. 

In the past Charlie would have been concerned about her friend going home with a stripper she’d just met, but now she’d be quite the hypocrite to raise objection. “I’m sure he will,” Charlie winks at Kyra and decides she’s been spending entirely too much time with Bryce.

Charlie guides Bryce on the short walk to the resort, and he wastes no time questioning her about her evening.

“Didn’t you see my last texts?”

“Oh, did you send me some more?” Charlie plays coy. She did briefly glance at his series of replies saying he hoped she was joking and worrying about why she wasn’t texting him back. She wants to mess with him some more, but now that he’s there in front of her she doesn’t have the heart. “Don’t worry, I saved my lap just for you.”

Bryce perks up, a wide grin spreading across his face. “You know I really did miss you tonight.” Bryce puts his arm around Charlie but stumbles and almost brings them both to the ground. “Oops, sorry.”

“Let’s just focus on getting back to the room without incident.”

They step inside the building and make it up to the room. Charlie isn’t sure what Bryce still has planned, but she knows nothing but sleep is happening for him tonight. Charlie guides Bryce to the bedroom and sits down on the bed to take off her heels.

Bryce walks up in front of Charlie and starts playing with the first button on his shirt. “Are you ready for your show?” He works at the button but doesn’t even seem to have the coordination to get it undone.

“Maybe I should help you.” Charlie stands up and moves his hands to the side, easily popping the top button.

“I like where this is going buuut this isn’t how strippers work, silly.”

Charlie laughs under her breath. “I know but this shirt’s a little tricky for you right now. I’ll just undo the buttons.”

“Okay.” Bryce leans in close and sniffs her hair. “You smell so good Charlie. I just want to eat you.”

Bryce is wasted and as much as Charlie would typically be annoyed at this type of behavior, it’s the first time Bryce has let himself give up any sort of control around her. He’s actually kind of adorable when he’s drunk and she still owes him for taking care of her on that first night anyway.

Charlie slides the shirt over his shoulders and tosses it on the back of the armchair in the room. “I’m going to go change in the bathroom and let you finish up out here.

“Wait!” Bryce grabs her by the shoulders and sits her back down on the bed. “The show is not over yet. Bryce hastily peels off his undershirt with no finesse whatsoever and then unbuttons his jeans. He drops them down and when he tries to kick them off his feet, he goes tumbling to his hands and knees.”

“Are you okay?” Charlie untangles the pants and helps him to the bed.

“Maybe you were right. This was not my best performance. I owe you an IOU. Wait, does that sound right?” Bryce scratches his head.

Charlie shakes her head. “Just get comfortable and I’ll get you some water so you aren’t hating life in the morning.”

Bryce chugs down one glass and then another before lying back, struggling to keep his eyes open. “Charlie, you are the best. We should be together...for reeeaal. We’re both so pretty and we can be sucs- sussess- good doctors together.”

Charlie covers him with a sheet and tries to refrain from bursting out laughing because he’s clearly talking nonsense right now. “Goodnight, Bryce,” she whispers softly, but is only answered back by the sound of his snores.

[particularnervous]

Welcome Home

summary: Shawn and Ella have been dating for a few months and he comes home after being away for a bit 

a/n: This is a continuation of Crowded! To read part one, click here 

----

Ella cursed as she almost dropped the eggs she was carrying, arms full as she tried to open the condo door. She had forgotten a bag when she went to the store, and in an attempt to do the right thing had declined a plastic bag and opted to carry her groceries a block to Shawn’s condo. It didn’t seem that far in distance, but with about a dozen things cradled in her arms, it was definitely an adventure. Ella was aggravated for many reasons though, not just the pile of food she seemed to be dropping. She was attempting to do something nice for her boyfriend who had been out of town on a small two-week promo trip in New York and LA for his newest song. She had Brian expedite ship her his key to the apartment and decided to bake Shawn homemade cookies for when he got back. His mom had been there an hour before to drop off soup and had texted Ella that she had left a cookie sheet and parchment paper. As she made more and more steps in this plan, however, Ella felt extremely stupid. What is Shawn didn’t want to see her right away? He probably just wanted to shower, change, and chill before their plans later in the evening. He was due home at 6:30 and they had planned that he would be over to hers around 9:00.

“I wish I could just fly the plane right to your house. Parachute out of it and be at your front door. I miss you”

That’s the text Ella had received a few days prior, to which she had replied that she’s working on a teleportation device.

Shawn: I’ll be over around 9:00 on Sunday? We can watch a movie or just sleep

Ella: Sleep sounds good, I know you’ll need it. Can’t wait to hear all your travel shenanigans though

Shawn: Can’t wait to tell you them. It’ll be late when I finish the show tonight, will you be up?

Ella: It’s live, I’ll be watching on the corner of my seat silly

Shawn: I’ll call you on my way back to the hotel then. Talk soon, sweetheart.

Now, around 5:00 on Sunday, Ella was second guessing their entire conversation. On the phone that night he had gotten slightly emotional, the lack of sleep and home-sickness catching up with him. Ella had tried her best to console him, her heart aching from not being with him. He had told her probably one million times that night, and since, that he couldn’t wait to see her. But now, as there were only hours until he was home, she wondered if he wasn’t feeling that way anymore. Maybe it would be like when you black out at a club and do some dumb shit and wake up the next morning hungover and guilty wishing you hadn’t done any of it. Not to mention, they had only been dating for close to three months and she had basically broken into his condo without his knowledge.

Ella went about her plans, though, and when the cookies were finished and cooling on a plate she sat back and texted Shawn. She saw she had a few messages from him saying that he had landed and was almost home. She replied, and opened her twitter to look at pictures of Shawn with fans at the airport. Before Shawn, she had followed a few stan accounts, but ever since pictures of them kissing at the club leaked, their entire relationship had been fairly public. It had taken a bit to get used to the hate in the beginning, but she usually stuck to twitter where things were usually nice and mild, and made her Instagram private. She loved interacting with fans now, it made them happy and Shawn loved it. “My favourite people talking”, he would say, “I should bring you on tour with me, they’d want to see you more than me.” She would laugh, but truthfully as much as his fans liked her, she was in awe of the way they cared for her boyfriend. For some, it may be annoying to see girls and guys fawning over your partner, but for Ella it filled her with pride. He was the greatest guy, and she was so happy that everyone saw that. Plus, the stuff that they would say about him physically made her laugh. It wasn’t uncommon for her to reply to a tweet about how hot he was with a witty remark about how she doesn’t know how to control herself around him. Seeing him with fans at his hometown airport, though, brought her another level of happiness. He looked so happy and relieved with his arms around the people in the pictures. She grinned when she saw a tweet with a video of him, the caption ‘oh my god, I love them so much’. She opened it and her heart squeezed listening to him. A fan had asked if he was going home to Ella, and he had replied “I’m seeing her later tonight, I can’t wait to hug her”. Her nerves calmed a bit and she continued to scroll, saving a couple pictures of just him.

Shawn: Just getting home, I’ll text when I’m on my way xo

Ella’s heart started to beat faster as she heard the lock click and the door swing open. Shawn walked in, and it took him a second before he noticed her. He messed with the key, grumbling something about it never cooperating, and put down his guitar, before he turned and finally noticed her standing in the hallway in front of him. The look on his face was priceless as he stared at Ella, mouth wide open.

“I hope this is okay. I wanted to make you cookies because I know you said you were craving the ones I made you that one time, and Brian sent me his key so that’s how I’m here, but I can leave if you want.” Ell rushed out, wringing her hands together in front of her. Finally, Shawn moved, rushing forward and grabbing her into the air. With a shriek, Ella wrapped her legs around his waist, clinging to him. She inhaled his familiar scent, her favourite, and felt tears spring to her eyes. It was only two weeks, but she had missed him so much. Pulling his face out from the space between her neck and shoulder, he grinned at her in awe. “Ella,” he breathed, before kissing her hard. He pulled back quickly, placing jer on his kitchen island and stepping away to admire her. She was wearing leggings and one of his sweaters, her hair braided behind her head, but she looked gorgeous. If he could have framed that view right then and there he would have.

“You’re not mad?” She asked, quietly and he shook his head wildly. How could he be mad? He had wanted nothing more than to take an Uber right to her apartment from the airport but he figured he should bring his stuff home first. He wasn’t expecting this at all, but now that they were here, he realized that it’s exactly what he had wanted. It was something he could get used to, coming home to her.

“Not mad, princess. How could I be? This is the best surprise, you’re the best surprise.” He stepped forward again and wrapped her in his arms, holding her there for a minute.

“Well, in that case, I made you cookies and the soup your mom brought over smells so good.” Shawn laughed, and pulled away, helping Ella down from the island. He went over to the cupboard and grabbed two bowls while Ella took two spoons out of the drawer. Sitting down next to each other, Shawn began telling her about his flight and the airport.

“I saw the video of you saying you were excited to see me, very cute.” Ella teased, and a blush appeared on Shawn’s cheeks.

“Shut up, I wasn’t even that excited.” He muttered and she rolled her eyes.

“Yeah, okay Mendes. You’re the one that said you wish you could parachute to me.”

“I said to your apartment, not you. What if I really missed your roommates?” He said, defensively, and she laughed. He had a great relationship with my roommates, and it was something Ells was thankful for. She wouldn’t be surprised if he missed them.

“I’d say, if you missed them so much go hangout there and I’ll enjoy these cookies myself.” Ella huffed, and Shawn laughed, pulling her stool closer to him so that he could wrap his arms around her.

“I think I’ll stay here with you and the cookies.”

A few hours later, they were quietly getting ready for bed in Shawn’s bathroom. Ella had left a toothbrush here officially a month ago, as well as her face wash and moisturizer. When Connor and Brian saw, they made fun of Shawn for a good ten minutes before Connor cracked and told him honestly that he was happy for Shawn. Brian continued to make fun of him.

“I love doing this with you, babe.” Shawn admitted, watching as she ran his brush through her hair. He had finished his routine before her, as usual, and was sitting on the toilet trying to memorize her routine. Hair up, wash face, brush teeth, moisturize, hair down, brush hair, lip chap. It all seemed so domestic he thought his heart might burst. He loved just watching her live her life and do the normal, small things. He was so enthralled.

“I do too,” she replied softly, knowing exactly what he meant. “Makes me feel safe.” She muttered, voice shy. He stood and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her back into him. Their eyes met through the mirror and Shawn’s heart skipped a beat. “You make me feel the same way.” He told her, kissing her neck softly. Ella closed her eyes and leaned back into him. They stayed like that for a moment before he pulled away and made his way into the bedroom. She joined him a minute later, having changed into a t-shirt of his. She climbed into bed as he stripped down to his boxers and he stopped short when he turned around and saw her in his bed. This wasn’t a new sight, she had spent the night more than once, but after two weeks apart she looked like a new type of gorgeous all wrapped up in him like that. His shirt, his sheets, he thought he could cry. He grabbed his phone off the nightstand and stood at the end of the bed in the middle, snapping a picture of her. He took a moment to admire it, how soft she looked in the light, the way her face lit up in the smile she always has behind the camera, shy but happy.

“You’re so beautiful, Ella, I’m so lucky.” Ella felt like she might pass out, so overwhelmed with the sweetness of their evening. She couldn’t believe she had been so nervous earlier that night, it seemed pointless now. Shawn tapped away on his phone for a minute, and Ella’s own phone buzzed from beside her. ‘Shawn Mendes as made a post’ her Instagram notified her, and then ‘Shawn Mendes tweeted: I’m in Toronto and I’ve got this view’. The picture he had taken moments before was attached. Ella grinned, commending Shawn on his caption skills. In retaliation, she climbed on top of him and snapped a picture of him looking up at him. She posted it to her own social media, captioning it ‘my view’s better’. They giggled over the replies and comments together, liking and replying to a few of them before putting their phones down.

Shawn turned on his side and pulled Ella into him, kissing the back of her head. “Goodnight, honey.” He whispered, and Ella squeezed his hand as her own goodnight. The two of them slept better than they had the past two weeks.

[pervitiini]

Hojo Rin

send me a character

favorite thing about them

Storywise, I find Rin interesting because his backstory and character are unquestionably one of the grimmest and darkest in the whole series, having an impact on the mood of the whole stage. The guilt of causing death of someone - let alone a loved one - is one of the heaviest burdens to imagine. However, what makes his story fulfilling is his short but complete redemption arc, the understanding that the awful things one has done cannot always be undone but it does not stop one from becoming a better person with their actions in the future. (I also like how this arc is linked with Ryosuke and his backstory which adds even more depth to his already complex character as well.)

As a person, Rin is shown to be supportive and inspirational. He is smart, witty and sharply articulate. Looking at his sassiness and bantering, nothing can stop me from assuming that this is where Ryosuke’s ability to throw his bold remarks at least partly stems from. Rin was also a good brother before the disaster and also tries to fix the situation after that.

least favorite thing about them

He was a selfish and disrespectful entitled asshole towards Kaori and unnecessarily (and hazardously) aggressive towards uninvolved people. He’s a stupid stinky boy.

favorite line

“It’s not about winning or losing, the true meaning is whether or not you can enjoy racing.”

brOTP

Rin and Ryosuke (the absolute power duo), Rin and Ryuji

OTP

@whitecometofakagi got me into low-key shipping Rin with Ryuji and I’m mad. (jk, not really)

Guys, is it gay to comment on your friend’s scent on the first time you properly talk with him?

nOTP

I wish I would not even need to write this but everything inappropriate… You Know. (As a bonus I would say Rin and Ryosuke; due to their history, it just would not work. They have a beautiful friendship and it is good that way.)

 random headcanon

I have so many, lmao.

Rin buys another car after selling his R32. Possibly another Skyline or at least a Nissan because I find it difficult to imagine him with any other car (Nissan fanboy for life). Rin loves driving and racing so much that it is unlikely that he would just quit. Just notice how he talks about racing and remember that he mentored both his brother and Ryosuke who became the nerdiest car nerd. It seems that he just wanted a fresh new start and to get rid of bad associations with the R32 in order to be able to fully enjoy racing again.

unpopular opinion

i will not be silenced, cowards

song(s) i associate with them

They should have saved Dark Angels - Right Now for the Fifth Stage because it is the only song that is appropriately edgy enough for Rin. (They should produce more dark eurobeat for my edgelord needs.)

Dream Fighters - The End of The World can pass as well due to the organ intro, guitar parts and a bit heavier sound in general.

Dave Rodgers - The Race of The Night: Iconic and actually very fitting to both Rin and Ryosuke.

favorite picture of them

a vaguely threatening stinky sad boy with anti-social intentions (potentially cursed)

[bcbdrums]

Things Change

Rant time. So I had the perfect ending for this written in my head. Witty in-character dialogue, vivid descriptions, a satisfying conclusion... And then literally seconds later I sit down to write and I've forgotten it all. What is wrong with my brain!? I really really tried, but it's gone. So I wrote a new ending and I know it's not as good. Anyway...

Trying my hand at prompt filling to stretch myself. From the Sensory Prompt list, number 55: Finding old photographs you had forgotten about. Requested by @benjimators

Enjoy!

Muted orange hues illuminated the wooden interior of the treehouse lair in Tahiti as the sun set. Drakken was shoving cardboard boxes around, trying to get them all organized by their contents.

It had been two days since he'd received a medal from the United Nations honoring him for saving the world, and six days since the alien invasion. Most of his time in that period had been spent either spreading his plant mutagen around the globe or showing others how to synthesize it to help stop the alien devices that were rampaging out of control.

This was the first night since his abduction that he had returned to the lair and as he went straight back into a normal routine, he finally felt as if he could breathe again.

"Phoo!" he exclaimed, letting out a breath as he stood and mopped his brow. It was far muggier than he remembered when he had first built this lair, but at the moment he didn't really care. For the first time since he'd been abducted, things almost felt normal.

Glancing around, he spotted Shego's discarded beach chair and pulled it up next to the box he had just moved and sat down in relief, watching the sunset through the window. He felt a creeping sensation on the back of his neck and a moment later the mutant vine with its pink flower had curled around in front of him, seeming to look at him in question.

"I don't know, flower," he said with sigh, leaning on his elbow. "This is...new ground."

"Hey, Dr. D.," Shego's voice caused him to turn around. "Thought you said you were going to bed?"

The vine slinked away as Drakken turned back to the window and crossed his arms. "I would if I could find the bed," he grumbled.

He could practically feel Shego rolling her eyes behind him. Predictably, she crossed the room to another stack of boxes and ripped through the tape to get into one.

"Look, here's your futon..." she said, dropping the item on the floor as she walked up to the stack right next to him, "and here's your jammies," she said, opening another box. She plucked the folded clothes out and dropped them in his lap, followed by his teddy bear and slippers.

He blinked twice, and then grumbled out his thanks.

"You're welcome," she said. Her tone was almost polite, causing him to look up in curiosity. The moment their eyes met she turned away, walking back into some other part of the lair.

It had been like that since the ceremony. She never really looked at him, and their conversations were short and only about necessary things. She hadn't said anything sarcastic in over a day.

"Drakken, get these things off of me!" she hissed out through clenched teeth as cameras began to flash.

"I don't...! I didn't—" he stuttered, looking anxiously at the crowd as the vines tightened further around them.

"Tell them to let go!"

"Rgh. Flower, let us go!" he commanded quietly.

Obediently, the vines released them and Shego immediately stepped away from his side. He glanced at her as she swept her hair back, continuing to smile and wave as if nothing was amiss. He followed her lead.

He hadn't thought any more about it until they had arrived back at the lair and she immediately abandoned him for her room. When he realized nothing was in it since they hadn't had a chance to unpack, that's when he began really thinking back over the last two days.

Praise and honor and glory and a pardon, and money and job offers and research grants, and.....

It was beyond anything he had ever wished for, and he had made the excuse that he needed to do more work on his plant formula to ensure it continued working in order to escape the throngs. And now he realized that while Shego had been his companion through all of it, she had been completely silent.

He started to set his teddy bear back in the box when a large, dark book inside caught his eye. When had he packed that?

He lifted the old photo album out of the box and opened to the first page. Under the plastic was an 8 x 10 sepia photo of a baby wearing a white frilly dress and cap, giggling up at whoever was behind the camera.

'Drew's christening,' the caption read in his mother's handwriting.

Drakken began perusing the album, genuinely not remembering the last time he had seen it. Had his mother brought it during one of her visits? Had Shego packed it?

It was his entire life, condensed into one cliche narrative: the story of geek-boy, growing up brilliant and receiving all the accolades from school and from his family, but utterly friendless. He didn't like remembering it, and wondered again where the album had come from.

When he reached the final few pages he slowed down and actually looked. One photo was in front of the dome of M.I.S.T., where he posed with James, Bobby, and Ramesh in front of Bobby's new Audi. They were all smiling and throwing hand-signals that they thought made them look cool. Next to that photo was one of his mother kissing him goodbye on the day he had moved into the dorms.

He sighed. The college photos were painful, but he did like to see them. They reminded him of why he had become a villain.

But now...

The jobs he had been offered, the invitations to join research teams, the pardon... Everything he ever wanted and more was being offered to him on a silver platter. He finally, finally had the recognition he had wanted all his life.

Except...

He looked down at the images of his so-called friends, who had mocked and teased him and put down every innovation he had ever tried. Then he looked out the window, watching as the sun slipped beyond the horizon.

The awards and priveleges were conditional. The only way to keep them would be to stop being a villain. And if he stopped...would he eventually be ridiculed again? Would his heroics be forgotten in the face of his...unconventional ideas?

And if he didn't change his ways, what would the world do to him?

His gaze drifted through the darkening skies until resting on the remains of the alien robot which Shego had demolished.

Shego...

He sat forward suddenly as he realized—none of it would have been possible without her. The earth would be under alien rule right now if she hadn't come after him and saved him. He'd be dead and forgotten, his corpse mounted on some Lorwardian's living room wall.

He tried to tell himself that of course she had come after him, he was her boss after all. It was in her job description to save him. And besides, he was the world's utmost genius. It would have been crazy of her to not...

He slumped back and hung his head. Who was he kidding? He was lucky she'd come after him. He had no idea why she stuck with him at all, especially after everything that had happened the first time Warmonga had shown up.

He owed Shego everything. It...wasn't really for him to choose his fate, if he was being fair. And he already knew what Shego would choose.

He felt a twinge of pain in his chest then, and realized that...maybe he really did want to try out being on the side of good again. Maybe? But there was no way Shego ever would, so there was no more point in thinking about it.

It was dark now. He may as well try to get some sleep.

He stood up and turned around, and was startled to see Shego leaning against the door frame, watching him.

He caught the strangest glimpse of sadness in her eyes before she quickly put on a smirk, and then shoving off the wall she started toward him.

"Reminiscing, Doc?" she asked.

He glanced down at the open album that hung in one hand at his side.

"Mm. As little as possible," he answered, closing the book and setting it back in the box.

"Don't know why you keep that. I'd think it would just remind you of how much everyone hates you."

He cringed. But then he took a breath and looked her in the eyes. "Funny thing... I don't remember packing that album. Do you know how it got in there?"

She halted her approach, and he smirked.

"I knew it! Where did you find it anyway? My mother's attic?"

She crossed her arms and turned away, her head held high. "Hey, I was just trying to help. Every villain needs to fuel their evil fire now and then."

He watched her hair swaying in time with her steps as she walked away, and he sighed through his nose. Frowning, he spread out the futon in the middle of the floor and began unbuttoning his lab coat. Maybe he could sleep off his disappointment...

"Don't worry, Shego," he said, his voice low.

She stopped and turned back, looking at him curiously.

"Worry about what?"

"I'm not going to take any of their job offers...or their pardon."

Her eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Why not?"

He dropped his coat onto her beach chair and started on the rest of his clothes. She turned her back while he changed.

"Wouldn't work out..." he muttered.

"What? But...how do you know?" she asked, glancing briefly over her shoulder.

"I just know!" he spat as he hurried into his pajamas. "Where are the blankets..."

"The same box as the futon," she said. "But...you're always ranting about wanting to be recognized for your genius. Isn't this everything you've ever wanted?"

Drakken ground his teeth as he dragged a blanket out of a cardboard box and spread it over the futon. She knew well and good it was everything he wanted. Couldn't she just—!

"'Can't I just' what?"

He blinked.

"Did I...say that out loud?"

She turned to face him now, hands on her hips. "Uh-huh."

He frowned and crossed the room to the box with his teddy bear, retrieving it in a hurry.

"Just let me get some sleep, okay!"

He pulled a pillow from the first box, dropping it on the futon and then quickly hid himself under the blankets, staring furiously at her ankles as she continued to stand over him.

"'Can't I' what, Doc?" she said again.

"Just...leave me alone, Shego!" he said, rolling over to face the taller stack of boxes.

It was silent for several moments, save for the crickets outside. Finally, he heard her sigh.

"Fine..." she said, her boots echoing on the wooden floor as she walked away.

When he closed his eyes, images of the faded photos from his college days appeared in his mind's eye. He let his anger seethe as he tried to fall asleep, remembering everything his so-called friends had said to him back when he still believed in things like hope and happiness.

No. It really wouldn't work in the end, anyway. Even if it didn't happen immediately, the belittling would eventually start and he'd be banished down into obscurity again.

Though her tactics were dirty, he supposed he really was lucky to have Shego there to keep him firmly grounded on his evil path.

Gradually his breathing evened, and he let himself focus on the chirp of the crickets and the sound of the breeze blowing through the palms. It sounded like applause...and it reminded him of the ceremony at the U.N.

He would never hear that applause again. If he betrayed the world now, they would never recognize him the way he wanted them to. All he could do was...subdue the world, and rule it through fear...

Understanding suddenly hit him. He...didn't want that anymore. Not after knowing genuine praise and honor. To get what he wanted through evildoings would just feel...empty. If he didn't choose the straight and narrow, he would be miserable for the rest of his life.

He began to relax into his newfound understanding, but then his eyes flew open as he remembered—it wasn't what Shego wanted. Never in a thousand lifetimes would she go back to the life of 'good'.

He bit his lip. He knew that despite owing his life to Shego, he technically didn't have to include her in his decision. But theirs was an unspoken partnership. While he still referred to her as his sidekick and she called him her boss, their relationship had become...something deeper. She was part of his—he rolled his eyes at himself—evil family. He couldn't just...abandon her. Could he?

He sat up on the futon, clutching his teddy bear tightly to his chest as he stared out the window at the dark silhouettes of the palms, his face twisted in worry. Apparently...this would be a far more difficult decision than he'd thought.

Behind him, watching from the door frame, a fearful tear slipped down Shego's cheek.

After a moment she stepped forward, and he turned at the sound of her steps.

"Hey...Doc..." she said, going down on one knee in front of him and looking at the floorboards. Her eyes were sadder than he'd ever seen.

"Shego?"

"I...I'm sorry. Do whatever you want, okay?"

"What? But..." he turned around and sat on his knees facing her, confusion written on his face. "You...do know what that would mean. Don't you?"

"I know," she said, her breath catching. She glanced up for the briefest of moments, and he was startled as the moonlight revealed two tear tracks down her cheeks. "It's fine," she continued. "Don't worry about me."

"What? But...Shego—"

"Don't worry about me!" she said, turning and running from the room.

Drakken stared after her, mouth agape as he fell back on the futon.

What just happened?

[heather-in-heels]

Sam

This is a love story, but it is only love in the sense of meeting a person who changes you forever. You meet them at a time in your life when you need their fresh set of eyes the most. As a result, you wind up in love with them. Not a romantic love, but a thoughtful love where you know you left an imprint on their heart and they left one on yours, too.

Sam was a New Yorker, I live in the Los Angeles Valley. East Coast. West Coast. Over 2000 miles in between. That has all the trappings for a romcom waiting to happen, but in reality it doesn’t pan out as meet cute as you imagine. 

We met on Tinder. Another setback. This is the end all, be all, of the apps for hookups. Swiping and uploading your best photos — voila, maybe you find your true love because an algorithm and narcissism said it should be so!

I’ve always liked to read the captions. His read, “If you have a good world view and you enjoy movies, candy, wine, and adventures... I think we would get along just fine.”

Swipe right. Hard right.

So I gotta ask what you do for work cause you clearly have more than the rest of us :-)

Also... hi :-)

That was his first message to me. I had to dig far into the recesses of my Tinder profile to find it. The message made sense if you know me. Most of my online dating photos are me with brand mascots. I write about characters and they’re in 70%, if not more, of my iPhone’s photos.

Hi Sam. Winking emoji.

That was my first message back to him.

Sam was staying in Canoga Park, a part of the San Fernando Valley I knew well(ish). It was a little more foreign to him. Kind of like how I felt about Brooklyn, where he lived and I had never been.

We talked for several days, on and off the app. He asked me out. I said yes and our first date was on March 12th. Sunday. I never go out on Sunday nights. That’s because I am boring. I go to bed early. There was something about him, though. If the conversation in person was half as good as the one through text,  I had to meet him. This could either work for or against me, but that’s the bet you take on any date. 

When Sam walked into the restaurant/bar, my eyes felt like a row of jackpot symbols at a casino. He looked like the actor Patrick Wilson. He dressed well. He was funny and thoughtful and witty. I felt like I won some kind of lottery I didn’t know existed. We all put our best foot forward on the first date, but this wasn’t the best version of him. This was him. I was seeing every bright part right now. The color gold in a world gone gray. 

This was exactly the kind of person I wanted to be with when I saw my future. Previously in this episode of Heather’s Life, I had dated nothing but scrubs as my girlfriends liked to call them. I didn’t know what it was like to date a good guy.

I went to the bathroom at one point and when I came out, he was chatting with the people at the table behind us. He had also hung up my coat, that I had carelessly tossed onto my chair, onto a hook. I stood and watched him speaking with these people for a moment, smiling. It was so him. Charming the whole room and everyone in it.

I’m leaving out my favorite detail. He came bearing a gift. We had been talking about our favorite candy before we met and I said mine were Twizzlers. He brought a pack with him. 

I never ate the Twizzlers. It was such an unspeakably simple, kind act that I wanted to hang on to them.

We talked about our lives and selves and dreams. He told me about how he saw Daft Punk live at their Alive tour. We talked about our mutual love for EDM. He talked about his DJ’ing he had done before. Rick and Morty, and how he identified as Rick. Anne Hathaway, his celebrity crush. His dream of becoming a late night talk show host. How he hated missing the turn exits on the freeway and having to drive further out.

Sam was a man of spontaneity, something I, as a person, have never been able to do. No, wait. I was spontaneous once. I used to take trips, even though I had debt and little money to spend. Then I turned 30 and stopped doing a lot of things. Sam insisted that this was no excuse. No way to live. He had debt too, but it didn’t stop him from showing up or living life. 

Hours later, we got ready to leave. He offered to give me a ride home. I never say yes to these kinds of offers. But, I felt safe with Sam. I knew it would be okay. 

We drove the short distance back to my place, singing along to Taylor Swift on his Apple Music. Full blast to “Style.” We missed an exit on the way, but he laughed it off. 

A good first date. An even better first kiss.

Life went on. He went home and I stayed put. Both of us worked a lot. I should add here that he worked so much. Rivaling myself, and that is not a good thing either.

A few months later, some texts in between, me going on dud dates with other guys, Sam texts me to say he’s coming back to California. “Let’s hang out!”

I jumped at the chance to see him again. 

See, it happened. A second date. We weren’t supposed to get another, but we did and the catching up was even better the second time around. Things were changing for the both of us, on the up and up. I was getting my student loans paid off. He was interviewing for new design clients in San Diego.

Another drive back to my place together, and then we decided to go out again the next night.

Three dates? Inconceivable! He had a surprise for me this time. We were going to a carnival. He was the driver and I was the passenger. But, even though I had no idea where this carnival was, I still directed him to the right place. I had a feeling I knew where it was when he mentioned seeing certain landmarks and it wasn’t in Van Nuys. I won a stuffed otter as a prize. 

Later that night (well, it was more like later that morning), we drove back to my place. I had a thought on the way there. Why go home at all? He had always wanted to go to Malibu and I live close enough. It was a beautiful night and I suggested that we drive down to the ocean. 

Sam was so excited to do it. The drive was a straight shot down one road. The top to the car was down, the wind was blowing, and Katy Perry’s “Teenage Dream” was blasting on his Apple Music. It reminded me of that moment in the movie The Perks of Being a Wallflower when the main characters are driving through a tunnel listening to David Bowie and feeling, as the protagonist Charlie called it, infinite. Every time I turned to look at Sam, he was grinning from ear to ear. He was having the time of his life. And even though I was a mess, with my hair everywhere and no makeup on, I was too.

Life and time went on after that night and we went back to our respective worlds. October approached and with it the New York trip I was going on. I had been working myself to the bone every night after work for months and was exhausted and excited for it to finally come together. Sam had mentioned we could hang out when I got to New York. We FaceTimed a few times together and he, somewhat begrudgingly, admitted he would go with me to Katz’s Deli. There were way better food places than Katz’s to go to, he said.

What was our last conversation about? The last conversation I had no idea would be the last one? Bob Ross. He loved Bob Ross and I found a game on some website that you could play and told Sam about it. We admitted that it did look a little challenging to play and maybe it could be played by someone else later on.

That was the last time I talked to him.

I found out about Sam’s death on Friday September 28th. I was packing my suitcase for the New York trip. Then, I saw a Facebook post about him. He had died.

The five stages of grief rolled out fairly quickly. Denial, because it felt like a sick joke. Anger, because I could not understand. Bargaining, because all I could see was this beautiful, living, laughing boy. Why did he die when so many horrible men get to live? Depression. Acceptance.

I haven’t gone through the fifth stage yet. I think I’m still stuck in the fourth.  

I put a black dress in my suitcase first, rolled into a tight ball. The Twizzlers occupied their own side pocket. I gradually packed throughout the night in between taking calls and answering texts from concerned friends and family. Sometimes I would pause while packing and stare off into space. Or I would pack while crying because my brain kept telling me to move forward.

When I arrived to the airport on Saturday, I felt like I was walking through JELL-O. Everything was a dull roar. I stared off aimlessly into space for about an hour before I decided to go sit at a bar. I drank at a rock and roll themed bar and talked to a stranger sitting next to me about what had happened. I don’t know how we stumbled into this conversation. He was a VP for a banking firm in New York. Had 500 employees under him. Knew what it was like to lose someone and shared his own story with me. I felt less alone.

The turning point, which I tell everyone about, happened at 12:30 AM on a Sunday morning. I had arrived to my hotel by then and didn’t know what to do with myself. I was hungry and went to the pizza place next door. In front of me was a couple from Australia. Behind me was a guy from Atlanta. Behind him was a woman from Fort Lauderdale. Everyone was from a different place in the world, all gathered together for pizza.

It changed everything for me, this moment. This was the first time in years where I felt a connection. I haven’t gone out or done much in awhile now. I sleep, I work, I go home, and work some more so I can pay my student loan off. This loan has taken over my life and it totally shows.

I don’t live, and I am trying very hard to get better about that. This is something Sam, in the little time I knew him, told me I needed to do. I used to fight him on this. Everything is too expensive. He would counter that he also had debt. I need to be working during this time. He told me you can work at any age. Finally, I would get to the bottom of it all and admit that everything was so fragile. My life is like a carpet that is always close to getting yanked out from underneath me. I don’t have a husband or children or a house or anything that a lot of people have at my age. I’ve gotten to the point where I am grabbing this carpet and refusing to let go because I am too afraid of what happens when there is no more carpet. 

At the core of myself, this kind of behavior infuriates me. The me that I am and have always been. The me that Sam saw. She sees me doing this and knows it’s actually childish behavior. She is a person who tells me to be kinder, keep doing more, and do not believe one state or city or country can stop you. She keeps the faith that it will all work out even though she doesn’t know how.

That Sunday morning was the first time in awhile I felt connected.

Several hours later, I prepared to say goodbye. I had asked his cousin in advance if I could go to his service, out of concern that it would not be appropriate since I knew so little about him. She graciously said I could go. The outfit I had to wear, the drive into Brooklyn, the absolute feeling that this was concrete and final. He was gone.

The drive to Brooklyn was my first one there. As the car got closer to the building, I saw all of the cop cars blocking off the streets and everyone heading into the building. There were so many people. Every single one impacted by him. Most of them were crying.

I had never been to a funeral for an Orthodox Jewish family before. The actual burial would take place off-site. No cremation. No flowers or wake. A shiva would be held on Wednesday. The men and women sat on opposite sides of the room with folding tables standing in place between us. We may have been separated, but grief held everyone together like a nasty cobweb we were all trapped inside. 

The first moment I heard the fine print details behind Sam’s debt was when his brother delivered his speech. I knew Sam had debt, of course. Knew how much and how he had incurred this debt. 

What I didn’t know that even in debt Sam kept giving to everyone he knew. He continued to financially support his family. He paid for everything he could with the little he had. He gave what a reasonable person would not or what they would try to excuse themselves from doing. When I told him I was coming to New York, he offered to let me stay at his place. I laughed when I heard that. Part of it was because it was funny, since I assured him I already had a hotel room. The other part was that I could not imagine making an offer to a person I barely knew.

In retrospect, I saw that every action, every decision, came from a place where kindness and love were put forth first. Give, and maybe ask questions later. He loved you for who you were and wanted to be there to support you at every turn.

I cried a lot.

When I left, a monarch butterfly flew in front of my Lyft car. That butterfly was completely Sam’s spirit. I just knew it. He would not want me to go back to the hotel and cry. This was a big week for my career and my dreams. Months of hard work went into this week. I could not disappoint the people involved. This meant just as much to me as it did to them.

What followed, in light of a deeply dark day, was a beautiful week. The gala was a hit, I walked up to the NASDAQ stage instead of crawling this year (young me crawled so I could walk... I get it now!), and the panel was amazing. 

“Great minds unthink alike.” It was the company 15th anniversary theme and one I felt throughout the entire week. Connection remained a personal running theme for myself. I felt myself connect in New York City. This was a city that used to scare me during previous visits because I didn’t think I had a place there. It was different this time. I have friends, I have work. I have a network that I did not have years ago. I can walk anywhere. Everything is open 24/7, there’s something new to explore, and new faces just waiting to be met.

I saw a similar monarch butterfly a week ago. It made me smile. I knew it was him. Don’t ask me how I knew something like this. I just do.

Sam came into my life at a time when I needed a new perspective. He taught me that there are men out there that will love me for who I am. He also taught me to go out there and chase adventure. I’m 30. I’ll be 31 soon. It sounds like it’s a little late in life to learn lessons like these, but I don’t think it is. 

I wonder if this is just the beginning.

For the rest of my life, I will be thankful to have known him. A little bit of time is better than no time at all and he was, and will always be, a teenage dream to me.

[marypsue]

fanfic: First 5 prime numbers!

why would you force me, a writer and known dumbass, to try to remember math stuff

2) What fandoms do you write for and do you have a particular favourite if you write for more than one? 

I was going to be extremely witty and paste in screenshots of the list of fandoms on my AO3, but tumblr is having a breakdown and won’t let me, so I’ll just go with the short answer: lots. 

There are different things I like about all of the different canons - and fandoms - that I’ve written for. I love cheesy jokes no matter where I go, but I also like the rich mine of angst and garish darkness that the Lost Boys have to offer. I love the fairy-tale structure and the heady romance of Labyrinth, I like how I can basically just write original fiction when it comes to the X-Men and it’s probably canon to something somewhere, and I appreciate the challenge of trying to nail the tone of RAM while still keeping the depth of character and the core of sincerity and emotion that I’m gonna end up bringing to anything I write about. (And also, projecting. Did I mention projecting?)

ROTG in particular stands out for the sheer creative freedom the fandom encouraged - we made up an AU where several different versions of the main villain (English movie, Finnish dub, book, concept art) lived together and attended the same university (along with multiple versions of the other characters) and it was sheer unadulterated crack. We wrote mythos. We wrote an expanded steampunk Treasure Planet universe full of high tragedy and classic-children’s-lit drama. We wrote poetry. We wrote ambitious crossovers and extraordinarily complex backstories for characters who ended up being Not That Deep. We wrote ridiculous comedy nonsense. We wrote so much fluff. My partner @gretchensinister created an entirely original fantasy alternate world and wrote a high fantasy novel inspired by the characters, which she’s planning to turn into an original series (speaking of, I will always shamelessly plug A Draught Of Light. If you liked A:TLA, you owe it to yourself to read it, and you don’t need to know anything about ROTG to enjoy it. In fact, you might enjoy it more not knowing anything about ROTG, though a few inside jokes might go over your head).

With that said, though, I think I have enjoyed writing for Gravity Falls the most. Partly it’s because of the skills I developed working in the other fandoms, so that now I feel confident enough in my work that I can stop worrying so much about making it good and just have fun with it. Partly it’s because the tone, the mood and the theme, of the series align with my interests and my values so well. It’s the kind of story that I would like to write, it’s the kind of story that I wish I’d written, and I love all of the characters so much but also can relate to so many of them, that getting to expand on it and play in its universe is just a treat and a joy. I may have found my forever fandom.

(The rest of this is going behind a cut for length because it turns out all of my answers are like this.)

3) Do you prefer writing OC’s or reader inserts? Explain your answer.

I…don’t get reader inserts. Especially the ones that include the little (y/n). (Partly because it jolts me right out of a story, partly because for the first while after the trend started, I was reading them as ‘yes/no’ and was extremely confused.) I understand that the intent is to create a story where the reader can easily imagine themselves as the protagonist, but…you have to give that protagonist some traits, and have them make choices, and in order to do that you have to give them some sort of a personality, and then 1) not every person who reads it will be able to go ‘oh yeah, that’s me’ and 2) you’ve got an original character anyway! 

I saw a post recently where someone had drawn a picture with the caption “this is what (y/n), the reader of my story x, looks like” and listed a set of personality traits/likes and dislikes, like, at that point…just give them a name! They’re an OC! 

With that said, though, like self-inserts, reader inserts are fun (for people who like that sort of thing) and harmless, and I really hope nobody’s being a dick about them. Fandom should be fun, and even if I don’t get that thing you’re doing for fun, that doesn’t mean you’re Doing It Wrong.

Also, I fucking love making up OCs, and if allowed, I would do nothing but that all day.

5) If you had to choose a favourite out of all of your multi chaptered stories, which would it be and why?

Oh, this is cruel. I should not have done this. 

So, there are a lot of them. Apparently some people don’t spend all their free time coming up with bullshit ideas that spiral wildly out of their control into full, developed narratives that require tens of thousands of words to fully express? I bet those people have cleaner bedrooms than I do. Also probably more money.

Again, I’ve gotten better at this with lots of time and practice, so a lot of my earlier stuff is less well-executed than I’d want it to be. There are still ideas that I like, and stuff I’m proud of finishing, but I wouldn’t say they’re favourites, because the execution is less skillful and less polished than some newer things. With that said, though, I still have a big ol’ soft spot for Northern Lights, which was my indoctrination into the genre of ‘wildly self-indulgent crossovers and rampant canon revisionism’. Same with It Was A Dark And Stormy Night, the first multi-chaptered thing I ever finished. You can see the seeds of some classic Mary tropes in it, including ‘what if we just took all the female characters who were mentioned once and develop them into fully-realised people with important roles in this story’, as well as some tropes that have since fallen by the wayside (I do not do nearly as much with fairy tales as I did when I was a teenager).

Dreamland deserves a shot at the title, as do Reincarnation Blues and Raising Stakes. But purely for scale, ambition, and how closely the execution matches the ideal version that exists only in my head, my absolute favourite multi-chaptered fic has to be Hive. I’ve been trying to write decent horror for eleven long years and Hive makes me feel like I’ve finally nailed it. 

7) When is your preferred time to write?

Preferred time to write is from midnight to 2am. 

Best time to write is literally any other time than that, probably. 

(I’ve read all the science and the thinkpieces. I am aware that the only reason 2am seems like such a good time for creative work is because you’re tired enough that your internal self-regulation is low and your inner critic is silenced, and also because it’s often the only time when we sit down and let ourselves focus on the work with no distractions - because there aren’t any. I’m working on introducing this environment into the rest of my day so that I am not in a permanent state of sleep deprivation. Funnily enough, writing in a dimly-lit room and working on a dimmed computer screen really seems to help.) 

11) Have you ever amended a story due to criticisms you’ve received after posting it?

Not that I can remember.

To be fair, I have received very few criticisms after posting that were about writing issues rather than matters of personal taste (and most of those have been along the lines of ‘so uh, I know you knew mentally what was going on in this scene, but the critical piece of information never actually made it to the page’). But…I also…take long enough to work on things and have so many damn things on the go that once something is posted, it’s posted, and I have to make a promise to myself to never touch it again, otherwise I would spend all my time nitpicking and never finish anything. If somebody’s noticed a legitimate issue or possible improvement, it is incredibly likely that I will go ‘oh dang why didn’t I notice that’ and then mentally file it for use in future stuff. I’ve only ever taken one fic down, and most of the edits I do after the fact are for tagging or author’s notes.

I did amend the ending of Any Misery You Choose, but that was less because I got criticism (people were actually incredibly nice about it!) and more because I was extremely dissatisfied with how the original ending turned out, because I hadn’t adhered to the plan I myself had made, because I was rushing to finish the damn thing. (Protip: don’t do that.)

(please, please, please let these actually be the first five prime numbers)

[mchalowitz]

fic; i met the real fbi agents behind the lazarus bowl

i was so into this idea by @mulders-boyish-enthousiasm that this just spilled out of me. tagging @today-in-fic too 

William pins a visitor badge to the lapel of his jacket, his hands shaking. His backpack full of equipment suddenly feels much heavier. 

He leaves behind a confused guard, who had to make three phone calls to decipher where to find the X Files division and the office of Agent Fox Mulder. His childhood hero is not exactly on the tour. 

For all intents and purposes, The Lazarus Bowl is a garbage piece of cinema. The sets are cheap, the acting is wooden, and the plot barely makes any sense. Its simplicity is probably why he enjoyed it so much, to the point that he would sneak into the basement after his parents went to sleep to watch the movie with violence and sexual situations every time it was on TV. 

It was mind blowing to his nine year old self to find out that the Mulder and Scully from the movie were based on real people, actual FBI agents, actually named Mulder and Scully, and he immediately devoured anything he could find on them. 

There wasn’t a lot to be found, really, most of it seemingly lost to time, and the advancement of technology. Much to his disappointment. The websites that followed their career closely had long stopped paying the price to keep their domain names. He found a few surviving articles, a couple posts on ancient forums under Fox Mulder’s supposed handle. 

He loved their episode of Cops, watching it so many times on an old VHS recording he begged his parents to buy on eBay that the tape unwound. He actually cried that day. 

His favorite novel was From Outer Space by Jose Chung, the two FBI agents in the book supposedly based on them. Aside from that, there was nothing definitive on such fascinating people. 

And there should be. They were FBI agents. Who investigated paranormal crime cases. It sounded like it should be a TV show, not someone’s real life. 

Discouraged from his dream to join the FBI by his overprotective parents, he jumped into another risky career by studying journalism. His fascination with Mulder and Scully developed into a general love for the mysteries of the paranormal. 

He started writing about it. He went from a scrub at work, getting scrap assignments, to a popular paranormal science and conspiracy writer. He used this mild success to finally achieve his boyhood fantasy of meeting Mulder and Scully.  

He rides the elevator down, too excited to recall the hesitant okay he got from his bosses at the concept. They were more responsive when he wanted to spend a night in a house supposedly filled with demons. 

William takes a deep breath, tries to inhale the internal squeal at the back of his throat when he sees the nameplate on the door. Special Agent Fox Mulder. He knocks in a way that attempts to sound confident. 

There’s a call from behind the door. “Yeah, it’s open.”

“Fox Mulder?” 

“You’re not here to serve me papers, are you?” William shakes his head. “Then yes.” 

“I’m William Van De Kamp, we’ve been emailing.” There’s no flash of recognition in the older man’s eyes. “We were scheduled for an interview? I thought you knew I was coming.” 

“I personally do not believe in speaking to the press. You’ve been speaking with Agent Scully.” 

There’s shuffling from the back room of the office and a redhead he’s only seen on screens appears. She’s holding a stack of files. “Mulder, be nice,” Agent Scully tells him. She holds out her hand. “Dana Scully.” 

“William Van De Kamp," he says. He takes her hand, completely mesmerized. He shakes himself out of his trance. “Let me set up so we can get started.”

Agent Scully takes the chair behind the desk, banishes Agent Mulder to one of the extra chairs in front of it for his opening comments. He doesn’t have much to set up, just his recorder, and his notepad of questions. A short assessment of his subject tells him he shouldn’t inquire about filming the interview.  

For a moment, William takes in his surroundings. The office is not far off from his favorite movie, right down to the I Want To Believe poster on the wall. He had the same one in his own childhood bedroom. He can barely contain himself from pulling out of his phone, snap about a thousand selfies to his friends. When your favorite movie is fucking real, followed with three alien emojis, he would include as the caption. 

He’s actually about to interview them. He presses down the button on his recorder, the red light urging him on. Ask them something. 

“How long have you been partners?”

“You’ll need to be more specific.” 

“Excuse me?”

“FBI, romantic, estranged?” 

“Whatever you’re willing to divulge, I guess.” 

“I was first assigned to work with Mulder in 1993,” Agent Scully interjects, shooting her partner a glare. “Let’s leave it at that.” 

“Did you have any interest in the paranormal at the time, Agent Scully?”

“No, in fact, I still don’t.” 

“Don’t listen to her. She loves a good invisible man.” 

“He wasn’t invisible, Mulder. He was...There is no scientific evidence to support that theory.”

William is giddy at the sight of their banter. It’s just like the movie. For a film that got so much wrong, their dynamic is perfect. It seems to be only thing it hit right on the money. 

They’re both so smart, so witty, it confirms all his hopes for them. They know their field so completely, his list of questions seem idiotic in retrospect. He wasn’t expecting them to be so forthcoming, entertaining him with stories of their experiences. He’s never heard of a Flukeman before but instantly files it away to research later.  

Agent Mulder is kind of an asshole. He’s sarcastic, a little brooding, and Garry Shandling definitely did his best to make his version of Mulder more likable. More generically funny, not capturing the dry wit that was punctuated with a lopsided smile, and a glance at Agent Scully to see if she found his quip as funny as he did. It’s not completely off putting, admittedly sort of charming. 

Even so, his aversion to speaking to the press was accurate. He made frequent comments about his distrust for the media that makes his work into a punchline, but he seems to soften with the realization that William is not a complete hack, but rather someone with a true interest in his work. 

There’s very little accuracy in Téa Leoni‘s portrayal of Scully, for the most part. She was just a shell of the real person, taking on more of the fiery-redhead-action-hero stereotype. The real person is a true genius, and while her beauty is unreal, he found himself hanging off her every brilliant word as she explained the history of the X Files, the kickback they received from the government at large, and the future of their work now that the paranormal has gone mainstream. “In this day and age,” she tells him, “Anyone with a smartphone can be a paranormal investigator.”

“These conspiracy enthusiasts of the 21st century want the spectacle, not the truth,” Agent Mulder adds. 

Their interview seems to come to a natural end with that note but he wishes there was something more. He wants to extend the experience, never having felt this ease he feels with them. There’s some...odd connection, one he knows he needs to shake off. 

He’s spent so much of his life admiring these people and they actually lived up to his expectations. He’s just having a fangirl moment, for lack of a better term, and he needs to shut that shit down. Of course they would make him feel comfortable, he’s spent so long being straight up obsessed with them. 

Still, he does not want to leave, not yet. He stands awkwardly at the door. 

“I’m in love with Assistant Director Walter Skinner,” he says.

“What?”

“I’m sorry…whenever I can’t think of something to say…I just say that.” 

"Do you have something you'd like to say?" Agent Scully asks him. 

He lets out a short laugh. “I thought you guys would be awesome but I didn’t think you would be everything I wanted you to be,” he admits. “You’re like...my heroes. This is so dumb...but I’ve seen the episode of Cops you were on about a thousand times. Maybe more times than I’ve watched The Lazarus Bowl, which I know is just a stupid movie, but it lead me to where I am right now.”

Words are spilling out of him like vomit. He continues, “I’m adopted and it’s so stupid but I used to think...what if they were my biological parents, how cool would it be to go on adventures with them. I believed it so bad.” He lets out a breath he was holding in. “Okay. Now that I’ve just drained myself of every ounce of professionalism, I’m going to go. Thank you for your time.” 

There's a softness in Agent Scully’s eyes that he had not been expecting when he looks up. "Mulder, why don't you give Mr. Van De Kamp your card, just in case he has any follow up questions." 

"Right," he replies, an emotion he can't decipher in his eyes. He goes into his jacket, slung over the back of his chair. He pulls out a business card, scribbles something on the back. He holds it out to William.

"Hopefully I’ve changed your view on speaking with the press, Agent Mulder."

"Not quite," he replies. "Couple more interviews, maybe." 

William smiles, wills himself not to glance back as the door shuts behind him. He sighs deeply, looks down at the card in his hand. 

In Agent Mulder’s messy handwriting, the back reads: Believe. 

[taeguboi]

“Can’t Buy Me, Love” PART 1 Jungkook x Reader Angst / Fluff

I added gifs, similarly to my “Goddammit, Hoseok!” fiction based on another dream [I think I’m a bit too deep into the k-pop fandom now, having solid dreams about idols but ah well]. Though this one turned out to be way longer in word count than expected so it’s in 2 parts whilst I get to the ending!

Fiction Masterlist // Reactions Masterlist - Requests always open

Jeon Jeongguk. He’s a beautiful man. You have to sometimes try excuse and justify yourself for being, what can only be referred to as, shallow.

But you've always been a sucker for pretty people; it's probably the reason you've always managed to utter the courage to let your feelings be known to the targets of your desires. Sure, it's a little unconventional, even nowadays, for a girl to ask the guy out, but it anything otherwise just isn't you. You're just not a fan of suppressing emotions and bowing down to over-oppression.

You first saw him from across a crowded room, just like a dream. It was cliché and surreal, and you were drawn in. You knew you should have known better than to fall for looks, but… Well actually, there was something in the expression of his features that suggested a kind person inside and out.

Each time his glistening brown eyes occasionally glanced your way that day, you felt energized.

The way he stood with grandeur made you weak at the knees with his broad shoulders and strong arms that seemed like they were about to break out of that shirt...

When he scrunched up his nose when he let out an infectious laugh paired with a bright smile, you felt a connection, even though you weren't even in the conversation… You couldn't even hear the conversation, but it felt like you were right next to him.

So then you started imagining what it would have been like. What would it have been like, after taking in his perfect features from all the way over there, if it was you to walk over to him and have that comfortable grip on his arm. If you were the one who got to openly laugh at those jokes you couldn't hear right now. If you were… that bitch.

Yep, of course he was taken. And there was nothing you could do about it; look how happy he is.

The best ones are always taken.

It was either fortune or disaster, the day he walked into your place of work, sporting one of the company shirts. It amazed you why anyone with his appearance aura would want to go into retail, but this was happening.

You figured it’d only be a matter of time before they promote him from serving and stocking into modelling the clothes…

“Y/n, this is Jeongguk, and I have appointed you to train him” your manager tells you.

The training, initially speaking, should be straightforward. Just show him the ropes and he can get started independently in no time.

But…

“Oh dammit!” you exclaim as you find yourself dropping change everywhere upon serving a customer… for the fifth time today…

Jesus Christ, he must think I'm stupid… Okay, maybe I am when his stupid cute face and firm muscles are literally being shoved in my face…

You know you're being an embarrassment to yourself, but it’s involuntary how you keep dropping things with weak hands and shaking slightly each time he brushes past you to help stock the rails.

The same shit happens even a few weeks later, when you really should have gotten used to Jeongguk’s presence by now. Today is a particularly weak day for you; the weather is humid and it doesn't help how the store can be poorly ventilated in some areas…

Now, it's not like you've been flirting as such with this guy, but you've most definitely been dropping subtle hints in those moments that you do manage to compose yourself. There's even been a few times where you'll jest

“I bet tonight's date can't accidentally knock over a ton of boxes with skill like I can…”

“She's cute, but she isn't me. But I'm sure you're just having your freedom whilst you're getting round to that.”

Ignore the caption in the gif 

Okay, so they're a bit stronger than subtle hints, more rejected requests of a date that have become quite infamous now, but he actually talks to you about personal matters quite a lot, and likewise on your part. You consider that this is probably because it can be generally easier to talk to someone less familiar about the difficulties in life, but your hopeless self just falls a little deeper with each experience he shares with you.

You were right, you know. About his features indicating a kind personality. He seems almost too perfect.

Perhaps you aren't thinking straight, but you realize today that you haven't actually indicated your romantic status to him… Besides, you haven't seen (a seriously considered, but inevitably discarded character from the beloved series of children's books, of course,) Little Miss Tart Face around for a while. Of course, it could just mean he's separating personal and professional life quite well, but in your mesmerization of him, you catch that glint of hope.

So you leave him your number upon scooting out of your chair after having coffee together and leave it at that.

The shift that follows is intense, or at least it feels that way to you. Is he going to say anything about the number? What meaning has he taken from it?

“Here’s £2.01 change. Enjoy the rest of your day” you smile to your customer.

The last customer of the day, it would appear as you glance at your watch to read 17:54.

It’s strange how many strangers you have to smile to. Pleasantries mean bugger all when you have a real reason to smile.

“I have a date on Saturday” Jeongguk tells you abruptly.

“Dammit” you mumble under your breath, hoping he didn't hear that moment of frustration.

But in your mind, you're not quite willing to give up just yet, no. Y/n always puts up something of a fight, at least a mental debate, before letting go of something.

A date? He didn't say with whom? Could this be a different girl from the last time? Of course, he can get whoever he wants. Which is probably girls a lot less clumsy and boisterous than me, let's be honest… The basic bitches probably just lead him on and take him for a meal ticket and don't see what I see...

“I'll keep the number though,” he smiles. “It might be useful some time.”

Okay, a little heartbreaking. ‘It might be useful some time’ doesn't exactly scream promise of even a remote interest… Of course, the date with another girl is the biggest signal, but the fact that he said it only might be useful is a bit shattering. Might suggests that it's an unlikely event to happen, that he would need you. Might suggests that only when he's being held at gunpoint and being demanded to give a ransom, only then he could need you…

Okay y/n, you're over thinking this...

...

He probably works out enough to fight his way out of a situation like that.

Goddammit he’s handsome.

This craziness has to stop. You're chasing something travelling faster than your maximum speed. Life is too short to dwell on a guy who doesn't give you the time of day, at least not romantically.

You’re pretty good at moving on. You know that if you don't, then what else can you do with yourself? All you can do it enjoy life.

And you do for a couple of months.

You still talk regularly to Jeongguk, but you pay much less attention to the little things now.

Yet it became increasingly difficult not to notice how the glimmer in his eyes had disappeared recently. Come to think of it, his recounts of dates were becoming less consistent. Lately, it was a different girl each time as opposed to the same one about three or four times before he concluded it wasn't working out. Sometimes there would be a few weeks before the next one. Sometimes it would be the very next day. Maybe he just became better at reading people. Maybe his perspective had changed with experience.

But more importantly, maybe it was all getting him down.

“It was awful, y/n. She clearly just saw me as a one night stand, even despite me pulling out all the stops for her. I treated her to a romantic film and payed for the ridiculously over priced popcorn there… A meal at the finest restaurant I know... I guess it felt right at the time to take her home and… She just left in the morning…” he sighs, head in his hands, and it would seem his eyes are watering.

You've seen him rant and vent before but this is something else.

And this something else broke your heart too.

He left it for a whole month. Not a single chat about a date, not even a spark of interest as a cute girl would arrive at his til to make a purchase.

In your mind, you're half joking, half serious, when you wonder

Is he broken?

At this point, you and Jeongguk have established a relationship on which you make slightly harsh but meaningless jokes about each other, so it’s really just like any other day when you notice him pouting and you walk past him down the shop aisle

“Jeongguk, I know we're at work but you could at least smile when I'm around”

Admittedly, your comments hold a somewhat large percentage of arrogance at times, but it's become your way of holding back on expressing directly how you wish he felt about you. Y/n can be dumb enough to fall for a guy, but never to appear desperate or embarrass herself about him.

“Sorry, yeah” is all he replies with a forced smile. This is odd. Usually it's some fast paced witty comment right back at you…

Again, I didn’t pick that gif for the caption hahahaha

“Seriously, if you're feeling that depressed, you should take another girl out again” you suggest, kind of bored of seeing him become a bit more and more lame and tragic each day. Yes, you still scream inside that you're right in front of him, but you don't want to see this. Like you said, in your mind around the time of Jeongguk’s a hundreth-and-something date; people have to just get on with life.

“Oh yeah, like who? I don't even go out once a week anymore, it's hardly enough to meet new people…”

“Yeah I suppose it is hard when you've dated almost half the town” you retort, only saying almost half because the other half are guys.

“Will you just leave it, okay?” he snaps, desperately trying to get on with stock taking.

After a moment of silence, you continue on the topic anyway “No. I don't think I will leave it. Just go do something about your mood; I hate seeing people miserable and unwilling to help themselves.”

“I hate it when you're right…”

A few hours later at lunch break, you sit at the usual table at the usual coffee shop next door to your workplace. You take in the view you get from looking through the window to see hundreds of people just getting on with their own lives, each with a story to tell. You wonder how many of the girls that pass you have had Jeongguk in theirs…

“I've got it” Jeongguk tells you, slamming his cup of coffee to go on the table in a spot right in front of you, more than enough to make you lose your train of thought.

“Huh?” is all you can question as he sits opposite you.

“I need to find a different type of person to take out.”

“Different type of person? Ah, so you're going to try guys!” you joke, taking in a sip of coffee.

“Look I'm serious! I know what my problem is now! I always just go for girls who just stand there looking pretty and feign politeness for free things… So I need someone with a bit more… I don't know, like umph to them? A bit more bold and feisty…”

As he babbles on, you feel something again. He looks even more handsome when he talks about something with a bit of passion and courage. His eyes are lighting up with each time he gives you an adjective of the type of girl he’s planning to go for. It’s like he's the sun as you eyes take in his bright expressions and you can return the same energy and cheerfulness that he gives with his words and gestures. So much so that you almost believe he could finally notice you.

“I need someone like…”

“Someone like me.”

“Yeah, someone like you.”

Almost.

You have got to be kidding me.

So when Jeongguk gave you his little lecture, he might as well have just been talking to any old stranger down the street, because when he said someone like you, he really did mean only like you, as in similar to you.

“I've asked y/f/n out” he tells you cheerily on the way out as you close the shop.

Great.

Sometimes, it can be harder to pick yourself back up after falling in the same place several times. You know you have to do it, but it’s a slower process since all you can recall is the times when you fell back down from an all time high and you gained more injuries. So you try to ignore anything you feel about Jeongguk being more interested in y/f/n, but you don't lift your spirits too high so there is less of a fall next time.

You've just come to accept that there's going to be another fall.

Thank goodness for the sake of your little broken heart that it all shatters to pieces.

“It’s got to be me, not them.”

“What are you rambling on about Jeongguk?”

The two of you are in the storage room on a very unbusy Sunday morning, seated on the most sturdy boxes you could find next to one another.

“Turns out y/f/n wasn't looking for the same thing as I was -- Well I know I most definitely wasn't looking to fuck another person…”

You wonder why you still comfort him when you could just walk away and spare yourself from any more torture but…

“Crap, really? Did she actually…?...”

“Right there round the alley of the club… Fuck’s sake, why did I take her out to a club?!” he angrily questions with a clenched fist.

“Wow, class…” you comment, trying not to take his stupid sorry ass in for a hug right now.

She may have hurt him, but you've been hurt too

“Ugh, what's the use? I don't even know if I really cared that much… I just don't know what to feel about anyone anymore.”

Neither do I.

“Actually, d’ya know what?” you begin, bringing yourself to your feet.

Fuck it. This is it. If it doesn't happen this time, then I'll accept that it never will. I've been holding back; it's so unlike me. But it means he's changed me. It’s worth one. last. try.

“What?” he enquires.

“I'm fed up of hearing about you spending all your work money on girls who take it without a second thought - and don't deny the spending part Jeongguk, I've seen the receipts for watches and necklaces and expensive wines stuffed in your pockets… I want to take you out for a date. We split the bill, we have meaningful conversation, see whatever movie you want to see, and at the end of the evening, you know I won't be expecting anything more. I'm probably really in over my head with the amount of months I've been hardly anything but obvious and still gone unnoticed, but… what d’ya say?”

“Yes.”

“Wait, really?”

“You're right y/n. It's time to stop being taken for everything I've got.”

Read PART 2 HERE

[allsaintsbanquethallrental]

8 Bollywood Actresses Who Made Us Believe That Age Is No Bar For Marriage

India is sure progressing and so are we. But one thing that will remain a bone of contention is a woman’s marriageable age. Because, despite breathing in the 21st century, the most criminal thing an Indian woman in her late 20s or 30s and single can declare to her folks is – “I have no idea when I want to get married!” 

Try saying this once and you will hear all sorts of ridiculous as well as lame things like, ‘having babies will be a problem’, ‘people will think you can’t adjust’ or even worse, ‘society will think you are a divorcee or something’.  

This, by far has all the ingredients to become the most alarming thing for your parents as well as relatives (whom you barely meet once in a blue moon) to worry about. But the point is who decides a woman’s ideal age of getting married or who decides how late is okay? Well, neither do women have an answer to this nor their parents.  

If you are touching 30 or have already crossed 30, and still waiting for your Mr Right or busy shaping your career (while hell is almost breaking loose at home), here are 6 charming Bollywood ladies who broke every bit of stereotype and got married, ‘late’. We mean the ‘late age’ set by the society!

#1. Suhasini Mulay found love at 60

She is one actress who is equally famous in the Indian tele world, Bollywood as well as Marathi film fraternity. Though she is always known for playing strong characters, but one thing that got her all the possible attention is, when she got married at the age of 60. She tied the knot to Atul Gurtu, a doctor on January 16, 2011. While Suhasini has never been married before but for Atul, this was his second marriage. He lost his first wife to cancer. Suhasini met her future husband on Facebook.

Yes, people did judge her (including the panditji) but, she chose to stick to her decision of marrying Atul. She fondly recalls this incident from her wedding in an interview with Brunch: 

When we told the pandit that we were the “to-be-married bride and groom”, he was stunned and stammered, ‘Ji, aap dono? Very good, very good’. We cracked up laughing? We got a similar reaction at the court too. But who cared… We were happy!

#2. Farah Khan said ‘qubool hai’ when she was 39

Image Courtesy: Facebook 

This extremely witty director, choreographer and producer made a few heads turn when she got married to editor-turned-director, Shirish Kunder, who is also 8 years her junior. The couple tied the knot on December 9, 2004, and became proud parents to two beautiful daughters and a little prince in 2008.  

Image Courtesy: Facebook 

The immediate thing everyone associates with late marriages is age gap (if any) and trouble having babies. But Farah brilliantly breaks both the myths here. It’s been 11 and half years, and Farah and Shirish just make us believe that there’s no ‘right’ age of getting married. And looking at them, we agree that there’s nothing like marrying late, what’s important is what you do to stay happily ever after.

#3. Urmila Matondkar said ‘I do’ at the age of 42

Out of all the people, we have mentioned till now, Urmila Matondkar stands out for a lot of reasons. Firstly, she was not in news for anything in particular. Neither was she seeing someone nor was she intending to do any more movies. But as they say, good things happen when you least expect them. And one fine morning, everyone woke up to this sweet yet astounding discovery that Urmila Matondkar gets married in a private ceremony at the age of 42. Mir Mohsin Akhtar, her husband who is a model by profession is believed to be younger to this Rangeela girl. With Urmila, we can totally say that you are never too old for love. And looking at her wedding pictures, we sure can say that she looks like the happiest bride. 

#4. Preity Zinta walked down the aisle with Gene Goodenough when she was 41 

When Preity was in a steady relationship with Ness Wadia, we all thought they will eventually get married. But then, the couple fell apart and marriage didn’t happen. But Bollywood’s bubbly ‘Liril’ girl found love in Gene Goodenough and the couple got married on February 29, 2016 in Los Angeles. Looking at her reception photographs, we might toil with the idea of a late marriage if this is how confident and happy a bride can be of her choice! What we can learn from this dimpled beauty is even if you have been through a failed relationship; never lose faith in the institution of marriage. And, also at the same time, do not rush into another hasty relationship, take your time, take the plunge only when you feel ready. 

#5. Lisa Ray married at 40 

Lisa Ray who impressed everyone in Bollywood with her fabulous acting in the movie Kasoor, walked down the aisle with ex-management consultant Jason Dehni when she was 40. Lisa mentioned how happy she was that she didn’t get married at 20.

In an interview, she said:

In your 20s, you want someone who’ll do everything for you; you want that person to solve all your problems, which I don’t think should be expected. 

And looking at her, we totally believe it was a wise thing on her part to wait for some time, mature a bit before deciding to share her life with someone. And we guess it works that way.

#6. Rani Mukerji got married when she was 36

Everyone knew Rani was dating Aditya Chopra, but neither Rani nor Aditya ever acknowledged it openly. But this overtly written-about couple surprised everyone with a hush-hush wedding on April 21, 2014, in Italy. The couple even welcomed their first daughter in December 2015. Looking at them, all we can say is, when you are sure about something, the age factor should not come into the picture. You should take the next steps whenever you both feel comfortable.  

#7. The most beautiful woman, Aishwarya Rai made it official with Abhishek Bachchan when she was 34

While everyone was busy speculating about this light-eyed beauty’s personal life, Aishwarya Rai Bachchan announced her wedding to Junior Bachchan in 2007. Despite the barely 3 year age difference and disparity in their respective career growth, their marriage is one of the strongest in Bollywood.

In fact, when the stunning couple was invited to the Oprah Winfrey Show in September 2009, Oprah quipped that Aishwarya and Abhishek were perhaps more powerful than Hollywood’s Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie. And, now with the little princess Aaradhya’s arrival, this family looks gorgeously complete. 

#8. And last but not the least, Neena Gupta found love at the age of 42

After having twists and turn in her love life, Neena Gupta is an inspiration for every woman with a liberal mind. After her short-lived affair with Alok Nath, after getting engaged to Shaarangdev to get married, things didn’t work and Shaarangdev called off their wedding. Later, she was blessed with a daughter, Masaba Gupta after being in a relationship with West Indian Caption Richard. After her daughter grew up, Neena started feeling lonely and gave a thought again about marrying.

It was then in 2002 when 43-year-old Neena met a Delhi-based Chartered Accountant, Vivek Mishra. The two met on a flight and clicked instantly. While Vivek was also separated from his wife, the two were in a relationship for over 6 years before they tied the knot. In July 2008, the duo left for the US to attend one of Vivek’s relatives wedding and he proposed to her in the US and instantly, married then and there. He already planned everything on his own in the states and just needed a ‘yes’ from his lady-love. 

Most of these actresses have had their share of relationships, but none of them ever felt or gave into the pressure of getting married. And, looking at them, we are assured that age has got nothing to do with a happy married life. 

from banquet hall rental https://www.allsaintsbanquethallrental.com/8-bollywood-actresses-who-made-us-believe-that-age-is-no-bar-for-marriage/

[adam-wolf-deville-blog]

DAY 0 - A Blog Is Born

Greetings Salutations , Come on in, pull up a pew, stay awhile and listen!!

So here i sit looking at my Analytics for both my FBpage and Youtube Channel..

Lets Face it its a bit depressing.. So what can be done about? well a search on the Inter-web of pornal delights .. Fb Organic "reach" is more or less dead and buried Meaning all you have left are Paid advertising.. and well i cant afford to do that right now.. so another thing that keeps getting mentioned is Blogging and Blogs

How successfully will this be? who know but lets find out.. so as i sit listening to Siouxsie and the Banshees.. a blog was born...

Will it be Witty? Intelligent? Insightful? well i guess only time will tell...

it will be at least musical.. it will not contain anything "personal" beyond my feelings and thoughts about my music and musical related content .. ie GEAR PORN!!!!!!! whooo i said it out loud,.. Im a GEAR PORN Addict.. i like gear I LOVE guitars, LOVE Modding and fixing and rebuilding

OK maybe for first Bloggness i should introduce my self :

I was Born in the Later half of the 70'S just in time to become a Starwars fanboy

[caption id="attachment_44" align="alignnone" width="406"]

Me at some age Prob around 18mths .. YES I was a big baby.. and it didn't stop there being I'm now 6'5[/caption]

The above pic is my on my Aunt's Motorbike.. if any of my family want to clarify it please feel free..

so skip ahead to a fairly average childhood.. Filled with all the joys the 80s could bring..

I grew up in a environment of music, my Uncle on my mothers-side was a bass player and had been since he was in high school.. i vividly remember begging him to play the batman TV series over and over again

Lets get to the good stuff.. the year is prob 1990 .. and its summer. and my second year of high school..

Lets go to a friends house.. and lets say he puts on "Appetite for Destruction"

at Which point me life changed for ever... the Sound .. The Guitar.. that would be come my new found desire.. my obsession...

so followed Several years of annoying the neighbors .. finding a very close friendship musicianship if you will with another school friend.. where we would sit and learn together, video our sessions long before YouTube..

ok i confess i have skipped a lot as i dont really think you want be bored with reading about how i listened to all the hair metal i could get my hands on from WASP to Poison motley crue, Alice Cooper, David lee Roth ,etc etc how i grew my hair in high school at a time where it wasn't "tolerated for boys" to have long hair.. really got heavily into Metallica.. when the black album was released..dropped out of school .. due to Personal Issues..

I guess the next chapter is where i began working PT as as a Saturday job and being a unpaid hang out during the week. at the local music shop.. it was here i discovered my interest in modding and fixing guitars.. i had the enthusiasm but not the money or the ability(yet) do even to much beyond a restring rewire and fret "Clean" i say Clean cause i didn't know about leveling and crowning and all the stuff that actually makes a difference,

the Guitar in the photo above was a "perk" from those days, and i rewired it with the pickups from my "satellite" Les Paul Clone that i acquired from my Uncle (after a bad trip to the dentist) and used capacitors ripped from a blown TV (which is still in there after 30yrs or there about) its DUE an upgrade.. stay tuned to my youtube channel ill prob do before and after stuff..

so where was i? oh yeah no longer working at the music store pretty much having to find a real job.. yey the dreams are dead!! we cant all do our dream jobs and just get payed to play guitar all day. now can well..

the other thing i had a Talent for was Computers, my father is an engineering genius.. he could strip engines and rebuild with his eyes closed so my mother told me.. and after 30 yrs i finally met him and could well believe it. having seen the workshop ,hot tub, and ride on lawnmower he built.. but i on the other hand am not an engineer cars baffle me and anything "mechanical" breaks but computers, there i shined.. i rebuild pcs and printers like i was born to it.. fixed them and service them into new leases of life..

I even did qualifications in it.. just really to get a proper job..

everything i have ever done since leaving the music shop was IT related..

it was in the training the next chapter starts, when i meet a guy called Dek..

who was in a band.. one day he comes to me knowing i was a guitarist..

"what gear do you have?" .. ermm at this point, i had a Boss GX700 and a Marshall valvestate 80 and a lot of guitars but (nothing really reliable)

"You like our stuff?, our guitarist just quit. wanna come and try out?" (im prob paraphrasing so but you get the idea..

so I went home and got the CD out.. borrowed a Jackson HSH performer from my Musicbro (mentioned above)

Learned a couple of tunes Roughly (unfort at this time i was not good enough to do Everything there previous guitarist did) but i did my best..

and low and behold i became the guitarist for D-Shock.. (based in wednesbury in the midlands UK)

I Guess my look was HEAVILY inspired by Rob Zombie, who i was listening to a lot at the time..

I was, am overtly shy, and HATED speaking on camera, after i heard my voice as a teen on "Videos" the Wolverhampton accent didn't sit well with me..  i have i think after living abroad since 2007 in various places, lost it. and listening to "new videos" I don't feel so self conscious.. but i am still ..

this led to a very interesting character trait for the band, during interviews (yes we did 2 on local collage radio.. where i would not speak just stare at the presenter,

being 6'5 and the tallest in the band, (and the baby i was the youngest too) made for a very nervous person behind the mic..

So we did a few gigs, and although we never made it into the studio.. (yes this was before home studios)

I did manage to write some new material with them

DNA, SCARS, i seem to remember a 3rd track but i might be mistaken..

we Covered Kylies confide in me..

but all things come to an end, it was obvious that we were not getting anywhere in this scene it was "serious" and in hindsight we were too early, a few years later would have been better, and add social media to this we could have been popular at it..

but we changed and started doing 80s rock covers, poison, bon jovi motley crue etc.. but this would be short lived.. though all this time, i had been dealing with depression and excessive fatigue, i could fall asleep at the drop of a hat.. and did, many times i would turn up for rehearsals at 5pm and wait around till the next person got there, and i would be asleep on the couch .. or if it was a my afternoon off at work, i would go home at 12 and sleep till it was time to rehearse..

so i made the decision (to leave the band and move to another "technically" country, and moved to the Isle of Mann for about 6months,

moved back till 2007 and moved to Australia till 2012 then returned to EU to move to Germany.. where i currently Reside.. ... this should be apt place to leave this blog for now.. when we return we will open up the blog to musical aspirations, and feelings and what is next in-store for Wolfie D..

till next time folks, remember like share and subscribe to EVERYTHING as i dont know where i will pop up next..

hahah

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Later Peeps!!

Wolfie D