#should’ve answered this earlier but internet was acting on my end today

[oqs-art-corner]

Trick or treat!

treat! have a rough Yuya with a candy apple!

(done in Bamboo Paper of all things)

[sunshinejs]

Drunk Incident [Part 1]

requested by anon

i was listening to sometimes by chelsea cutler on repeat while writing this and i’m getting emotional 

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word count: 2.5k -ish

Numb. That’s all you felt in that moment.

 That video someone dm-ed to you kept replaying in your head. The way that girl was grinding on him and the way he allowed her to do so was making you sick.

 Trust me, baby You remembered him telling you multiple times over the phone I love you and only you. In the end, I’ll always come back to you.

 Was that still true?

The second you walked through the doors earlier in the day, your mom knew something was wrong. She saw the tears in your eyes and hurriedly asked you what happened but all you did was push her away as you ran up to your bedroom, locked the door and cried to yourself in your bed.

 That was hours ago and she still hasn’t come up to check up on you, which you were thankful for. All you wanted was to be left alone right now.

 Downstairs, your mom ran to the door as soon as the doorbell rang.

 “Dylan” She sighed in relief as he appeared before her.

 When you locked yourself in your room, your mom tried to get a hold of Connor for a few times to see if he knew what happened but was sent to voicemail every time. Her next instinct was to call Dylan and when he answered her call; she asked him if he could come over without explaining too much.

 “Hey Mrs. y/l/n” Dylan smiled at her before he realized the worried look on her face and it was soon replaced with a frown “Is everything okay?”

 Your mom instantly shook her head as she led him into the house “Dylan, I don’t know what happened to y/n but she came home earlier than she said she would and was crying”

 He then became worried instantly. Did something happen between you and Connor?”

 “Do you know if she and your brother got into a fight or anything?”

 “Not that I know of” Dylan shook his head “But I haven’t spoken to Con in a while so I can’t fully guarantee that they’re not fighting”

 “Can you try to get her to open up?” She asked in a soft tone “I know y/n is close to you too, Dylan and right now, I think there are higher chances that she’d rather speak to you about it than to me”

 The Brashiers’ have been very close with your family for the longest time. Your mom and Connor’s mom went to college together and were best friends so you and Connor have been around each other since birth. Being the only child, you hung out often with Connor and Dylan. And despite the age gap between you and Dylan, you two got along very well and treated him like your actual brother.

 Being the same age (only apart by 3 months), you and Connor were glued by hips for as long as you could remember. Whenever there was you, there was him. So, it was no surprise to both families (or anyone else for that matter) when you two started dating. That was roughly about 4 years ago.

 He nodded instantly “Yeah of course, Mrs. y/l/n”

 Dylan walked up the flight of stairs and headed down the hall where your room was on the left. He softly knocked on the door, hearing your sniffle as you said “I’m not hungry, mom”

 “It’s Dylan, y/n” He spoke up “Can you open up, sis?”

 He heard movements from inside the room and soon enough, the door opened; revealing yourself in a state that Dylan hasn’t seen ever since your father passed away.

 “y/n?” Dylan whispered; like he was afraid you were going to break at any moment.

 You couldn’t hold it in anymore so you threw your arms around him and cried into his neck.

 “Hey,” He cooed softly as he wrapped his arms around your frame and rubbed your back comfortingly “Hey, it’s okay… ‘M here, sis”

 “It’s not okay, Dyl” You cried “It’s not going to be okay!”

 “What are you talking about?” Dylan frowned, feeling his blood boil at whoever was causing you to feel so broken right now “Who do I have to beat up, y/n?”

 He pushed you away, just enough so he could look at your face. Your eyes were puffy and red, which was evidence that you’ve been crying to yourself instead of talking to someone about it.

 “Can you tell me what happened?” Dylan asked softly as he wiped the tears on your cheek “Please?”

 You kept quiet in hesitation. If you show him the video, you knew Dylan was going to flip out on his older brother. As much as you were angry at Connor in that moment, you didn’t want any dispute between the two brothers.

 “You’re going to wish I never tell you, Dyl” You said as you rubbed the tears from your eyes.

 “I won’t” He promised “Your ma is worried about you, y/n and I am too. You gotta open up to me, sis. Tell me what’s wrong. Don’t bottle it up and suffer alone”

 You walked over to your bed and Dylan followed after you. You both settled on the bed; you leaning back against the headboard as Dylan sat across from you. You reached into the blanket and pulled your phone out.

 Opening Instagram, you went straight to your direct messages and clicked on the fan account that reached out to you earlier with the video attached to it.

 “Someone sent this to me today” You explained softly as you passed the phone to him “It happened last night at Shawn’s party”

 Dylan couldn’t believe his eyes at the video he was watching. His brother was dancing, a little too close he might add, with an unknown brunette; acting like he doesn’t have a girlfriend back home.

 At that moment, he felt like he lost all of his respect for his older brother and his blood was boiling. But he also knew he couldn’t blow up right now because that would just upset you even more. So, he put your phone away and crawled next to you because you needed a shoulder to cry on right now.

 “I should’ve gone to the stupid party” You admitted, feeling the tears forming in your eyes again as your voice started to crack “I should’ve just said yes when he asked me to. Then, maybe none of this wouldn’t happen”

 “Hey, now” Dylan started, turning his body so he could look at you. His heart broke at your current state. He hated it when you got upset; hated seeing his older sister frown. And now he hated the fact that it’s because of his older brother “This is not your fault, you hear me?” He said firmly “This is all him. You are not blaming yourself for anything, y/n

 “Does he not love me anymore?” You asked hopelessly “Is that what this is? Because I’m prepared to let him go, Dylan. I promise”

 How could he answer you? What was the right think to say to someone who was feeling this way?

 So, Dylan did the only thing he knew was right in that moment. He wrapped an arm around you and let you curl into his side as you cried. He knew you needed to fully get it out of your system.

 xxx

 Connor woke up late the next day with the worst hungover. His head was pounding like crazy. Shawn’s party was by far the wildest party he’s ever attended and he could barely remember anything from the previous night because he was so drunk.

 He blames Brian for that. That idiot kept shoving shot glasses in his way while Shawn stood there; making sure he would take it.

 He reaches out and taps on the side table in the search for his phone. When he couldn’t retrieve the little device, he let out a groan and pushed himself out of bed. After he brushed his teeth and freshened up, he walked over to his luggage; pulling out a pair of sweats and a hoodie.

 “Good morning!” Brian chirped once Connor stepped into the living room of their hotel suite. He was sat on the couch, with a takeaway container in his hand “You look like shit” He commented.

 “I feel like shit, Craigen” He grumbled in reply as he plops down on the couch and picked up the advil Brian set on the table for him and the glass of water. He takes the pill, swallowing it with sips of water. He then gave Brian a pointed look “Thanks to you”

 “Hey, I already said you were gonna get drunk as fuck” Brian shrugged “Shawn’s still asleep and I already know his hangover is the worst amongst us all”

 Connor rolled his eyes “I’m never getting drunk with you idiots ever again”

 “Like you ever have a choice to say no, Brashier”

 “Have you seen my phone?” He frowned “I couldn’t find it in my room when I woke up”

 “Yeah, you left it on the counter this morning” Brian said as he picked up his phone. Connor stood up from his seat and walked over to the counter as Brian called out behind him “It was dead when I found it so I charged it for you!”

 “Thanks man”

 Connor disconnected the cable from his phone as his lock screen popped up. His eyebrows furrowed at the multiple missed calls from your mother and since there was none from you, he immediately thought something was wrong.

 Walking back to his room, he dialled your number and held it up against his ear. When you didn’t answer, he called your mother next but there was no luck either. He started to get worried even more and called the next person he could think of.

 “Hello?”

 “Dylan?” Connor asked, hearing his brother’s voice on the other end “Hey, have you seen y/n or her mom today? Maria called me a few times earlier and now I can’t get through her or y/n”

 “Is that all you have to say for yourself, Con?” Dylan asked pointedly.

 “What?” Connor questioned confusingly “What’s going on?”

 Dylan laughs humourlessly on the other end “Really? ‘What’s going on’?” He mimicked his older brother’s voice “You’re a fucking idiot, Con”

 “Hey!” Connor bursts. He was in the middle of nursing his hungover and hearing Dylan saying shit without explaining was really testing his patience “What the hell is wrong with you?”

 “What the hell is wrong with me?” Dylan repeated “What the hell is wrong with you, dickhead! That video is all over the internet!”

 Okay, now he was just lost.

 “What video are you talking about?” He asked frustratingly “I don’t know a single shit about any video, Dylan! Can you start talking for God’s sake?!”

 Dylan huffed, “That video of some girl grinding on you from Shawn’s party? It’s everywhere idiot” He hissed “Your girlfriend is fucking heart broken, Con!”

 Connor swore he felt his heart dropped at that moment.

 “What?” He stuttered out.

 No, He thought to himself as he ran to the table and opened his laptop. As he went on Twitter, sure enough his mentions were blowing up with people tagging him in the videos that someone sneakily took.

 No, no, no.

 Connor felt like he was going to puke when he saw that video. The way she was grinding on him and he didn’t push her away? Dylan was right; what the fuck is wrong with him?

 “You know, mom and dad let you go on the tour because they thought it was going to benefit your future career” Dylan went on “And this is the shit you’re doing with them? Connor, what has gotten into you?”

 Connor couldn’t focus on what Dylan was ranting. He was too focused on the 7-second video replaying on his screen. He felt disgusted with himself. Drunk or not, he should’ve pushed her away.

 And then he thought of you watching this video and the guilt raised in him. He promised you that you didn’t have to worry about a thing while he was away on tour; that he wasn’t going to do anything stupid.

 But now he broke your trust and he didn’t know if he could fix it.

 “Connor!” Dylan snapped.

 “I gotta go” Connor said shakily before he hung up on his brother without even bidding goodbye.

 I messed up Connor thought to himself as he dialled your number again, praying that you’d pick up I fucked up

 The third ring was replaced by silence, and he just knew you were on the line.

 “y/n?” Connor asked hesitantly “Baby?”

 “Connor, stop calling me” Your hoarse voice spoke up.

 “Baby, please” He pleaded as the tears were forming in his eyes “Please let me explain”

 “What is there to explain, Con?” You ask bluntly “She was grinding on you and you just let her! Do you know how that makes me feel?” You laugh humourlessly “Like a fucking idiot, Connor, because I’m sat at home buried between books while you’re out partying with your famous friends and getting drunk!”

 “Nothing happened, baby” Connor promised, hearing his own voice cracking “Please believe me, y/n. I love you so much”

 “I can’t deal with this right now, Connor” You said softly “I really can’t”

 “I’ll come home right now” He immediately said “I’ll ask Andrew if I can take a few days off”

 “No, Connor” You sighed heavily on the other end “I mean I can’t deal with us right now”

 And at that moment, Connor felt like he couldn’t breathe.

 “No” He shook his head as the tears kept falling from his eyes “No. Please don’t do this, baby. I love you, y/n” He said in a fragile tone.

 “Connor, you know you’re my everything” You said shakily “But it’s all too much for me right now; the distance, this video… I just feel like we need time apart”

 Connor was devastated at your request. He wanted nothing more to scream ‘no’ at you but he also could imagine how heartbroken you were after watching that video and he couldn’t blame you for wanting a time-off. There were two things he could blame; himself and the alcohol.

 “Okay” He agreed, sniffling as he wiped his tears “If that’s what you want”

“Just give me a little time” You pleaded “I promise it’s always us against the world, okay? But I need a little time, Con”

 “I know” He nodded as he smiles sadly “y/n, I’m so sorry for being such a drunk idiot. I’m sorry that I’m hurting you. The one thing I swore I’d never do and I did it”

 “I’ll see you around, Con” You said softly.

 “y/n?” He called right before you could hang up.

 You hummed in response, so he continued “I love you”

 He needed to hear it. That reassurance that even though things weren’t okay now and he had a drunk incident, they were going to be okay. He wasn’t going to lose her entirely.

 “I love you too, Con”

[centineoah-blog]

I Hate Everything About You - Part 1 (Noah Centineo)

She’s the daughter of Robert Downey Jr., struggling to find her own name in the industry, while he’s the internet’s collective crush, learning how to deal with his new-found fame. What happens when they get cast together in a TV adaptation of her favourite book series?

Word Count: 2.6 K

Pairings: Noah Centineo X Reader

Warnings: None as far as I’m aware, bit of love/hate if you're not into that, bit of drinking, spray tans, paparazzi

There is just something incredibly satisfying about kicking back, putting your feet up and lying in the sun, doing nothing at all. The sound of the waves crashing, little kids squealing all around and the sultry rays of the sun beating down on you, warming you up from within – it’s summer at its absolute best. Which is why, I’m sprawled out on a deck chair on Santa Monica Beach, California, sipping a Piña Colada – I’m only seventeen but here with my very lenient mother – With a pair of shades shielding my eyes and the rest of my bikini-clad body exposed, so as to work up a tan. Hard work, I know, since I’ve been at it for nearly four hours now and there isn’t even a toasty hint on my skin to show for it. My complexion is pasty and uneven, which I have no idea how because I’ve been in California all my life. The least I should have is beautiful, evenly bronzed skin.

Ugh, I think in frustration, I should’ve just gotten one of those terrible, orange, spray tans to match the president. At least they’re easy to get.

Correction to my earlier statement, then – There is just something incredibly satisfying about kicking back, putting your feet up and lying in the sun, doing nothing at all, when you’re capable of tanning! My back is stiff and I’m sweating like a pig, as there is hardly any wind today. The humidity has resulted in my hair going beyond frizzy and I’m completely unrecognizable, so at least there is no chance of any paparazzi getting candid shots of me and making them viral with headlines like- ‘Y/N Downey shows off sexy bikini bod!’ Or something equally ridiculous.

Now, I said ‘unrecognizable’ and ‘paparazzi’ so you must be wondering what the hell that’s about. No, no, I’m not some narcissistic bitch with an absurdly high opinion of herself. Although, you aren’t that far off. Let me explain.

My name is Y/N Downey. I’m an up-and-coming actress although people hardly refer to me as that. Generally, people know me as the only daughter of Robert Downey Jr., one of America’s most successful and famous movie actors, and I’m not just saying this cause he’s my father. You might also know him as Iron Man but to me, he’s just dad.

Obviously, since my father is ‘the great Robert Downey Jr.’ everyone just naturally expects me to be a stuck-up, spoilt brat who gets everything handed to her on a silver platter. They think it’s all a piece of cake for me, that I don’t have to work for making a name for myself since my father has so conveniently made it for me.

Wrong.

To this day, my father has never pulled any strings or called in favours to get me a part. In fact, that was his one and only condition when I expressed that I wanted to take up acting as a profession. He made me promise that I’d never use his name to get my way and work hard on my own to achieve something. Luckily, and not to be too full of myself or anything, but I’m a good actor. I suppose it has something to do with being in my dad’s company, since it can’t be genes. That’s because I’m adopted, and the Downeys are the only family I have ever known.

Anyway, every single role that I have done until now, I’ve got it through legit auditions in stinky and badly lit rooms. Mr. Downey has never influenced any aspect of my career. So, you see, I’m just another teenaged girl with a big dream. Okay, that might be an exaggeration. But except for the fact that my dad is a big movie star and I live in an unreasonably large house, and have more cars than I could possibly want to drive and I’ve never been to a public school – whaddup, homeschooling! – Really, I’m just the same as your typical teenaged girl.

So that’s my story. Now let’s get back to the present day. It was all my mother’s stupid idea.

“We never spend any quality time together.” She’d cooed the night before. “How about we head to the beach tomorrow? You could sunbathe.” She’d added temptingly and like the idiot that I am, I was sold by the allure of a tan. 

Hence, my discomfort now. Hell, last night I’d even thought I’d go for a nice little swim down here.

My brain wanders off on its own trail – Is this day ever going to end?! And what the heck is up with the sun? Move a bit dude, go shine your bright face in someplace they need it.

I groan in irritation.

My mother snaps her head to me. She pushes up her sunglasses to her head and glares at me. 

“If you’re so annoyed, you shouldn’t have come.” She growls.

“You made me.” I mutter quietly.

“I didn’t make you do anything.”

“Of course you did. You held up tanning like a bait and you knew I’ve always wanted to –” I’m cut off by the sound of my phone ringing. I fish it out of my bag.

“Ava!” I’m met with a shrill but pleasant greeting from my agent, Joanna.

“Hey Jo!”

“So guess the best thing that could’ve possibly happened?”

That’s how Joanna Preston always talked. Whatever you wanted to find out, you guessed. I think she’s incapable of forming non-interrogative sentences. It gets annoying a lot of the times.

“Um, everything in the world is made of chocolate?” I ask, unsure.

Joanna laughs. “No. Hint – it has something to do with Colors.”

My heart stops. There’s only one reason Joanna’s calling me about Colors.

“Someone’s making a movie about it?” I breathe in disbelief.“Better.”

What’s better than a movie?

“Someone’s making two movies about it?” I question dubiously.

“Someone’s making a TV Series about it.” She states firmly. Oh, non-interrogative! Perhaps there is hope for her yet.

A little gasp escapes my lips.

The Colors trilogy is my favourite book series in the world!

“And guess who the best agent in the whole wide world is?” She’s back, ugh, never mind.

“You, obviously.” I say rolling my eyes.

“That’s right!” She exclaims. “And guess who landed the lead?”

My jaw pops open.

“Me? They just gave it to me? No auditions or screen tests?” I ask, disbelieving.

“Yeah!” She squeals.

I furrow my brows, not quite understanding where this was all going. Joanna must’ve been able to sense my apprehension because she promptly launches into an explanation.

“Apparently they loved you on Teen Wolf and they wanted a new and fresh face, so they decided you’d be perfect. I’ve managed to find out that they’ve practically finalised you but of course, they’d still like you to show up and read some lines but that’s purely formal. The part is yours!”

I did a two-episode cameo in the third season of Teen Wolf and it was received very well. More importantly, it resulted in me becoming friends with Tyler Posey. He is pure perfection.

A dumbass grin spreads over my entire face.

“Do you know who’s playing Mason yet?”

Mason is my almost-character, Ali’s love interest in the books.

“Yeah, but he’s in the same condition as you. In fact, I suppose they’ll be asking both of you to go down there together.”

“Who is it, though?” I can’t contain my excitement.

“Noah Centineo.”

I almost fall out of my deck chair.

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It’s been nearly two weeks since I found out I’m almost playing Alison in the TV Series adaptation of Colors and today, I’m going to be finalized. Or I’m hoping to be, since I’ve been called down today for my ‘audition’ and I’m absolutely thrilled and raring to just go down there and bag it. A couple of days ago, the producers contacted my agent, Joanna, and gave them the final dates for the trial. Also, just as Joanna had predicted, Noah Centineo, is being called in to audition for Mason and we’re auditioning together. I must say, that, I’m not thrilled about. 

I’m not exactly sure why I get hostile at just the thought of this guy and somewhere in my head, a rational voice answers that it’s because of how much I love this character. Mason Scott is my favourite fictional character and if some douchebag with cool hair messes it up, then as a loyal fan, I have every right to have a vendetta against him. It could be that he’s the biggest actor at the moment, answers the rational voice again but I ignore it. Of course it had to be him. I am sick of seeing him everywhere, and how everyone is obsessed with him. Honestly, how is it that someone who literally just blew up overnight, lands a role as big as Mason Freaking Scott?! He must have pulled in some serious favours. 

It suddenly dawns on me, then, that he would probably be thinking the same thing about Robert Downey Jr.’s daughter getting the lead – that it wasn’t my skill that got me this part. I quickly brush it off.

“Blue or beige?” I hold up two identical blouses, trying to decide which one to wear to the audition.

“Definitely the beige. Wear the brown skirt with it.” My mother comments from her spot on my bed.

My mother and I had a tiff about this role earlier, since it’s gonna have a fair bit of nudity in, but I’m happy to tell you that I was able to finally get through to her about how big this role is for my career.  Everybody’s excited to see a reboot.

My dad helped as well, explaining the whole situation to my earlier apprehensive mother and now she’s supporting me whole-heartedly. Or she’s pretending to, but either way, I’m glad she’s accepted that I’m going to do this and that she’s really cool about it. 

I, on the other hand, am a sack full of nerves right now. I might appear to be confident and, quoting my own self ‘raring to go’, but on the inside I’m. Freaking. Out. It’s like a dream role and I do not want to mess this up in any way. I don’t want the makers to have second thoughts about casting me; I don’t want to give them any reason to so much as even think about someone else. And obviously, that leaves zero room for error on my part. None. Nada.

So, clearly, there’s no pressure!

My head is pounding as I walk into the studio, script in hand. The audition is the part when Mason first takes Ali to his apartment and tells her about his lifestyle and what he does for a living, letting her know what she’s in for if she agrees to be with him. I know all my lines by heart and my dear friend, Tyler, and I have been through them almost a hundred times but it’s still a rather difficult scene if you consider the acting side of it because it really shows Ali’s innocence and her willingness to step into the dark with Mason.

Speaking of, where the hell is this overrated hero?! I’d really like it if I could just run through these lines with him at least once before the main audition.

I’m walking around the studio with an expression that says I own the place because people keep stepping out of my way, when, really, all I’m doing is being annoyed as I try to find my arrogant co-auditioner.

Yeah, yeah, I know it’s a bit premature calling him arrogant. Seriously though? Who on earth would just waltz in there and read their lines with an unknown person, for the first time, to audition for the role of a lifetime? An arrogant person, that’s who, because even I am willing to swallow my pride and look for this brat for a little practice.

I somehow end up walking to the kitchen, well not somehow because I could murder a coffee right now, and surprise, surprise, Mr. Centineo is sitting right there with his posse. I stop dead in my tracks as soon as our eyes meet and he stares at me for several seconds, not blinking. And then, slowly, he raises a brow as he gives me a relaxed, deliberate once-over.

And it pisses me off.

Like, I know I’m looking nice right now but seriously dude, I’m about to be your goddamned co-star! Show a little respect, for god’s sake!

To be honest though, I don’t even know why I’m so offended. Maybe it’s his gorgeous hair. I notice that there are three other guys sat next to him and I assume those are his ‘buddies’; they look the type – all dude bro-ish in their stupid hoodies and ripped, skinny jeans. Not that I have anything personal against hoodies or ripped, skinny jeans. Or dude-bros, for that matter. But I wasn’t told I could bring my friends.

Ass.

Finally regaining my ability to walk, I make a bored face as if I audition for huge shows every day, and then head straight to the counter off the side of the room, ignoring him completely. Behind me, I hear snickers and hushed voices as I’m pouring my coffee in a paper cup. I roll my eyes.

Grow up, boys.

I dump two packets of sugar and stir it vigorously. Putting on the lid, I turn around and my coffee is knocked out of my hand.

“ARGH!! The fudge!” I growl.

I’m surprised at my ability to control myself. I had a whole variety of choice expletives I could’ve used in this situation. I look up and standing in front of me is the newest bane of my existence. And he’s smirking.

I reward him with the stoniest face I can manage.

“Hey, I’m Noah.” He says and okay, I’ll admit it, his voice is So. Hot. 

No! I’m furious right now, I can’t think about that. What the hell is he playing at? I need an apology.

“You spilled my coffee.” I mutter in quiet fury as I point out his first misdemeanour.

“Whoa woah, not the friendly type, are you?”

“I suppose I wouldn’t be either if my dad was Iron Man.” He adds with a snigger. My jaw pops open.

How dare he?!

Strike Two. I’m overwhelmed by how much I want to break his pretty little jaw.

“What the hell?! You have no right to say that.” I yell.

Further to my irritation, he grins – teeth and all. Perfectly straight, white teeth and all. But, anyway.

“What?” I snap.

“You’re fiery.” He remarks in amusement and the next thing I know is a sharp, stinging feeling in the palm of my hand and Centineo’s shocked expression.

Okay, so I might’ve slapped him.

Before I can react or try to apologise – not that I was going to, he clearly had three strikes, but it’s the thought that counts – I get a call from Joanna.

“Y/N, they’re calling you in now. Stage 36.” 

“I’m coming.”

“If you see Noah on the way, let him know they want him too.”

“I haven’t seen him.” I bark as I hang up.

I walk around Noah Centineo in a huff and he stares after me, dumbstruck, as I walk out the door, still holding the cheek that holds proof of my assault.

Now how’s that for ‘fiery’?

Part 2