#this morning was just me yelling into my phone’s microphone at alex | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

machiavelliinadress · 2 years ago

Note

the motherfucking hollywood au. powerful doc name!

Hi nonnie!

This au started in my emails SEVEN goddamn years ago. It only just got moved out of my email into a doc this week. It has earned the title lol. I somehow wrote 8.8k just yelling at a friend

Here are three snippets. No particular order or significance, just some words that have always made me come back to this fic.

Snippet #1- press junket

Doing the press junket hungover is not fun. It's so far from fun that Jack wonders if there should be scientists studying how not-fun it is. She can't brood for long, because the Hollywood rumor mill has decided that it wants to try and get another pound of flesh from her.

She knows she made the right choice, stepping behind the camera rather than staying in front. She also knows that the majority of the world doesn't agree with her choice, as the new blonde drone from Access Hollywood reminds her with his stubborn attempts to get her to discuss Morewood.

"Ryder? Ryder, while I appreciate the interest after eight years, that's not what we're here to discuss today. Finite is. Now, do you have any questions about this project or can we call it a day early?"

The room chortles at that, amused by her attitude even though they all still have the same questions about Morewood. Ryder sinks into his seat, suede pants making the strangest noise as he does so. A ballerina graceful redhead rises out of her seat, and a microphone seems to magically float into the hand that isn't holding her phone.

Snippet #2-- E! news

Jack doesn't really want to put on E! News, but she has to keep an eye on what's been said about her movie. It's almost a compulsion, and she's home alone so it's not like there is anyone to stop her (or at least screen it first). She's lost track of who the 'reporters' are, and Jack doesn't have enough energy to do a quick google during the commercial.

The coverage is pretty decent, and nobody seems too pissed about her attitude. Jack had forgotten, though, that E! now likes to show movies or marathon shows after their news. So her insomnia means that she is given the choice of a "Morewood Marathon Monday", the fly fishing channel, or bull riding. Jack tries to get into bull riding but she's drawn back to Morewood.

It's been years since she watched it, and she forgot how captivating it can be. The marathon seems to be of the third season, and Jack feels a shiver race down her spine. This was the season, the season that everything happened.

Snippet #3-- Awards, Waffles, Panic

The after parties are an exquisite hell. It's a long night of congratulations and condolences, and Jack clutches her wine glass tight all night. Matt and Alicia, and Zach and Bianca as well, are at the parties. It soothes Jack, to know that they love her enough to come out when they're not nominated and have their own chaotic award shows to get through. Alex keeps swinging by to bring her champagne, always with someone new on his arm. Jack rolls her eyes at the gossip rags trying to figure out who Alex might be sleeping with. She knows he'll go home alone, and that he’ll be up to work out before he meets her for a lazy brunch at Bogo's house to informally celebrate the end of their reunion. Peter will send her any new offers, as well as recaps of all the major outlets that have mentioned her or Finite.

It's the best feeling, stripping off her dress and blasting some old Beyonce as Jack scrubs off everything in the shower once she's home. There are no more hands to shake, cheeks to kiss, and opinions to bite back. There's time for a few hours of sleep, and then she'll pull on yoga pants and a shirt she probably stole from Alex to go stuff herself with Bogo's strawberry waffles and the strongest coffee known to mankind.

That's the plan, but when she gets out of bed in the morning, it's to the sound of her phone vibrating constantly. A glance at the screen shows missed calls from...everyone in the industry who has her number, and more unknown numbers than she's happy with. Her texts are a mess, constantly updating and shifting. She checks the group one she has with the only people she trusts completely-- the Moulsons, the Bogosians, and Alex. The only thing in that chat is the urgent agreement that brunch will come to her, do not leave the house Jack. Do not go anywhere.

#hockey rpf #kayla says stuff #mfing hollywood au

0 notes

vanillann · 4 years ago

Text

the 1994 battle of the performers (luke patterson x f.reader)

i’m so glad y’all liked this because i loved writing it

word count: 2.7k

the 1994 battle of the performers masterlist

Chapter 1: Milo’s

“Hi, is this the Peters residents?”

Whoever picked up the phone shushed the person that was yelling in the background, missing the reserver as I could hear everything.

“Who’s asking?” The voice was rough and it reminded me of my step-mother and her never-ending cigarette problem.

“I know your son, I was wondering if he was home because I have something of his,” I looked to the well planned out history notes that I held tightly in my hand.

I know I could have, no should have, just waited for Monday to return the papers but I couldn’t stop thinking about yesterday in the gym and that stupid video.

Was I actually decent? I knew I wasn’t the same level I was at one point but I had a chance and according to the four, she wasn’t bad.

“He’s not here, that boy, he’s probably at that Bobby’s boy house,” I nodded even if they couldn’t hear me, understanding this nasty language more than I wish.

“Do you know their address?”

“Yeah yeah, 458 Sunset Road,” I opened my mouth, ready to thank the lady but the phone was hung up quickly and I rolled my eyes. I was thankful that my parents with ahead and divorce when things started getting bad.

I grabbed the papers a little tighter in my hands, realizing I lived a block or so from the house in question and left the keys on my bedside table. No need to waste gas for some notes that I didn’t even need to drop off. I walked down the carpet stairs of my house and walked out the front door.

As soon as I made it from the door I felt the sun run over my skin, calming to my overthinking mind as I grabbed the railing, careful not to make my knee worse.

Did they delete the video as I asked?

Was this stupid?

I knew how desperate they were, it could have been all a plan to get me a part of the team because if I trusted them then some other dancers might. I was respected in the dance community and I knew the numbers to call.

I watched my feet, skipping each crack in the pavement as I did so for something for my brain to focus on.

Would they really help me face this fear?

Were they just selfish?

As I turned down one of the roads I could hear a faint sound of loud music drift over the streets, kids drawing on the road with chalk and bobbing their head.

I couldn’t believe the difference in the two sides of the neighbors, how proper and elegant my side was compared to the dancing kids, and the loud music. I spotted a small lemonade stand across from the house I was heading for.

A light smile graced my lips, amazed at the little community the little space had. It wasn’t just doctors and lawyers packed together trying to be better than the next yard.

I stopped at the driveway for the house, looking over the black roof and the white exterior of the house. Would it be weird just showing up?

We weren’t friends, no problem between me and the four but still, I definitely shouldn’t know where one lives and the only reason I knew that was from a phone call with the Peters, which I got from the phone book.

Maybe this was weird, very very weird. I panicked when I heard some sort of door open, the loud boyish laugh drifting from wherever to my spot at the end of the driveway.

“That might be one of our best works,” the happy voice was nice, the atmosphere obviously better than yesterday.

I panicked, turning around while my sweaty hands gripped the notes in my hand tightly.

“(Y/N)?”

I closed my eyes, taking a small breath in and turning back to the four boys I knew were looking at me widely.

“Hi,” I nodded, looking at each of their confused faces. I knew this would be weird.

“I have Reggie’s notes,” I held them out to the boy who was clad in a leather jacket as he gave a soft smile.

“Thanks, how’d you know I’d be here?”

I was thankful his voice was disgusted and angry but nice and gentle, just what I needed right now.

“Found you in the phone book,” I nodded, wondering if I should apologize for the household, but I backed off when I realized it wasn’t my place.

“You called my parents?”

I watched his shoulders drop, his face psychically panicking as he looked back to his friends for some help.

“Yeah, they seemed Uhm, nice?”

Reggie watched me for a few seconds while I rocked back and forth on my beat-up tennis shoes, doing my best not to combust at the sight.

“Oh, Uhm yeah,” he nodded, a mutual agreement made with each other's eyes not to mention any farther.

“Is that all?”

Patterson, or Luke, stood behind Reggie obviously trying to protect the boy from whatever I might say next.

“No,” I nodded, doing my best to come off as friend and not foe but it felt too late from that as Luke gave a grumpy smile.

“Bye bye then,” Luke waved, keeping Reggie close to his side. Reggie looked up at Luke, begging him to stop his anger to me.

I turned around, doing my best to run away for the four without making myself look more like an idiot, but I’ve never been great about that with boys.

“Do you have the video?”

Shut up (Y/N)!

“Uhm, yeah,” Bobby cut in, his voice calm as if not to scare me or make me mad. I didn’t know which but I understood both sides.

“Can I see it?” I turned back around this time, taking in some heavy breaths as I prepared for faces that looked like they would hurt me, but it never came.

Reggie looked to be bouncing on his heels as his smile grew ten times the size, Alex looked to be taking breaths that were calming his nerves, Bobby nodding his head at me with a smirk, and Luke looked to bite his bottom lip trying to hide his smile.

“Yeah, no totally,” Luke looked at his other bandmates, smirking as he walked past me. I was about to say something, pointing over at the house where they had just left from.

“We have to get Milo’s first,” Luke called over his shoulder, pointing over at the lemonade stand that I noticed once I turned the block.

“Milo’s?” I watched the other three follow Luke, each turning back to me while waving their arms.

“You’ll never have anything better,” Alex called over his shoulder, smiling once the little boy came running from the house. He almost came alive at the sight of the boys standing in front of his stand, the boy couldn’t be more than 8.

I slowly walked across the street, looking to both sides twice before jogging to join the boys that seemed to smile as the little boy made it down his stair railing and skipped to the older ones.

“Morning boys,” he spoke with a small lisp and seemed to be missing a tooth but his smile would have lit up a room in the entire state.

“Morning Milo,” Luke responded, leaning against the stand before it shook slightly and he hurriedly pulled away.

“Who’s that?”

He didn’t seem bothered by my presence, just curious about it. I was wondering why I never knew about what went on around the block from my house, but that didn’t matter as Reggie grabbed my wrist and pulled me to the front.

“A friend from school, her name (Y/N),” Bobby introduces me, the boy smiling as he holds his hand out for a handshake. I reached out, placing my hand in his and he gave a firm shake. I was shocked at his confidence, making me miss my own.

“I’m Milo, Sunset Road official lemonade and bakery stand,” his voice made a smile grace my lips, watching as he left a cute little kiss on my knuckle, earning a laugh from the other boys.

“Okay loverboy, we demand service,” Luke jokily slammed his hand on the table of the stand, pulling the sweater on my arm so he rested back to my side.

“Coming up!”

The boy dived behind the stand, pulling out a cheap bucket he got from a local shop with four mason jars inside. Once he pulled them out I noticed that each one had glitter and colored paper. Each had different drawings and little cut-outs.

I reached from one, Luke trying to grab my arm but I was already spinning it around, in horrible handwritten was the name “LUKE” in all capital letters.

“Oh wow,” I smiled at the horrible handwritten and the little microphone that definitely didn’t look like a microphone. The blue and red glitter made the sight even better.

“They made them once they became regular after babysitting me one night,” Milo cut in, holding up a finger to run back in the house, probably to grab the lemonade.

I smiled turning around and smiling at the others around us. Bobby looked as embarrassed but Alex was simply laughing at the others and Reggie looked proud.

“I came to watch my tape but this might be better,” I tried to turn my laugh into a cough since I still wasn’t that close with the boys.

“Hush,” Luke bumped my shoulder. Milo's wide laugh brought me back to the boy as he held a plain mason jar in his hand.

I couldn’t believe myself as I watched my feet glide across the floor, for the first time in a long time. I definitely wasn’t as good as I once was, which made me upset me but I still wasn’t half that bad.

“See! We told you,” Luke had made sure to sit close beside me on the couch of what seemed to be their studio. He wanted to watch how I reacted, thinking I would change my mind.

I couldn’t help but think I would, I mean I came here on a Saturday for a reason and it wasn’t the return notes.

“I’m not as good as I was, but I’m not bad,” I kept watching, smiling before I watched myself spin. My body falling to the floor as it did all those months ago, the horror-filled me up before Alex ripped the video camera from my grip.

“That’s not important,” he nervously laughed, hiding the camera behind his back but I could still hear their panicked voice from yesterday still.

“Because it will never happen again,” Reggie cut in, I could already tell he was optimistic for the four.

“But it could and one more bad fall and I might not walk again.”

I knew how dramatic I sounded but it seemed the only way to get through their skulls. I rolled my eyes, standing up from the couch, not even stopping as I walked to the open doors.

“I don’t know why I even came, I’ll see you guys around,” I waved over my shoulder, letting the video that I would hope have given me hope finally stop playing behind the blonde boys back.

“You came because you miss it.”

I shouldn’t have thought over Luke’s words, he just wanted to win the Battle of the Performers, but man it struck a deep chord. He took me rooted at the door as a sign to continue.

“You miss dancing and if I was as good as you I would be too,” Luke's voice grew closer and closer as he walked closer to my frozen figure.

“I have a question for you,” I spun on my heel, stepping back slightly when I realized how close he was. I could smell the scent of sugar and musk, which was a nice change to the overbearing scents I was used to.

“Shoot!”

“What if you broke your wrist, snapping it just the right way that you could never bend it around the neck of your guitar the same ever again, you couldn’t slide your fingers over the frets the same, would you still play?”

I knew how harsh I sounded, but the truth was harsher because that is exactly what happened to me. I tried a lift cause I was bored during practice and now my dreams were practically gone, so I knew harsh was the only way he’d see it.

“Yes, because music is more than just being good. Sure, it suck but I could still feel it and love it, why’d give up something that special!” He spoke wildly with his hands, obviously not realizing how close we are as he stepped closer.

“But watching someone else dance and myself dancing are two different things,” I spoke, trying to find a flaw in his logic but his point was clear.

Just cause I wouldn’t be as good doesn’t mean I’ll never be good again.

“But you dancing is still possible, we have video evidence,” at that Alex held up the video, pressing play as I watched myself calming walk into the gym, my hands close to my chest as I looked around the room.

“Join us in the Battle of the Performers and maybe you’ll feel it again, let two dreamers chase their dreams together,” he spoke happily, seemingly happy with his words.

“You listen to way too much John Lennon,” I spoke, shaking my head, turning around, and finally leaving the studio. I felt tears threatened to fall down my cheek but knew better than to cry with a chance of getting caught.

As I jogged down the long driveway I was on, the sign I had been asking myself since the fall. Milo stood in his front yard, talking with an older man I had seen work at a bakery a town or two over.

He seemed to have a children's cookbook in his hand, pointing over different things as Milo smiled and took notes in a black and white notebook. Maybe it was stupid to use this as my sign, their were plenty of others that made more sense, but after listening to little 7, soon to be 8, year old, Milo go on and on about how he was going to be a baker even if he wasn’t great at it now.

Because he liked it, that was all. He was bad, according to Bobby he almost burned his house down, but he liked baking so who was to stop him? The only person that Milo let stop him was his mother, but he said that’s only because he can’t reach the top shelves.

I turned around, my confidence that I had missed washing over me in a wave of adrenaline and I didn’t mind it, I missed it.

The doors to the studio were still open and I could hear much talk, maybe tuning but nothing more. I made my way to the door, standing in the center of the doorway while looking over each boy.

These boys played because they liked it, they just happened to be good.

“Need something?”

People didn’t have to be good at something to like it.

“Is she okay?”

And maybe they don’t win the competition, but you can’t win something you don’t try.

“Is she having a stroke?”

I took shaky breaths, looking at each boy's confused face.

“How long till we bomb this battle?”

My words were simple but the smiles that broke across each face were way more complex and beautiful.

“She came thought!” Bobby yelled, jumping up and down as Alex laughed, pulling his friends into a tight hug.

“Sunset Curve gonna win, Sunset Curve gonna win,” Reggie sang in a loud boom, smiling as he did a funny little dance with some sort of imaginary rope.

Luke pushed himself from the couch, running over and wrapping his arms around the back of my head. My two hands rested on his biceps, smiling at the vibe that had busted the room wide open.

“Look’s like you’ll need your own cup at Milo’s with how often you’ll be here.”

the 1994 battle of the performers taglist:

@gia-kerks @notwonder-woman @poisoned-girl @phantompogues @dovesgrangers

#luke patterson x y/n #luke patterson x reader #luke patterson #reggie peters #alex mercer #julie monlina #julie and the phantoms #jatp x reader

101 notes · View notes

pagingevilspawn · 4 years ago

Note

Would you please write a fic about alex and jo help their daughter with her homework, they would be kinds cute help them study

cross my heart, hope to die, please stick this pencil in my eye

there’s a reason this took me forever. reason number one, two, and three; proofs. i was unable to write this because of proofs. i got this ask and LIKE A CHILD decided that i wanted to make my fictional characters suffer as much as i did. so once i was done with proofs, i had to write something about proofs, which made me exhausted because i hate even talking about proofs

that made no sense, but here’s this thing that i made. lots of it was my real life monologue, screaming at my computer bc of fucking proofs. enjoy. (also, let’s appreciate the fact that i updated three whole days in a row)

(also, another installment of the “payton loves evan peters too much” series, where i name jolex babies after his AHS characters)

Alex Karev sat in the drivers side of his SUV, making a right onto the upcoming street as he listened to the song playing on the radio. He drummed his fingers along the steering wheel absentmindedly, pulling up to the curbside of James Madison Middle School, waiting patiently in his seat until he heard the five minute warning bell ring.

When the loud bell goes off, he exits the car and makes his way to the other side, learning against the door so his kids would know it was him. Too many parent’s owned black range rovers, and the last thing Alex needed was for either one of his kids to climb into the back seat of some stranger's car.

He didn’t need to wait long for children to start piling out of the school in large crowds. Middle school was so different from elementary, for his kids at least. He remembers when they would come sprinting out of the building as if their lives depended on it, but now they just casually strolled, no matter how much they liked or disliked school.

A few minutes later he catches sight of his daughter, who’s eyes light up when she sees him. He wasn’t supposed to pick them up today, the nanny was. But he had gotten off of work early and had insisted with Jo that he be the one to pick up the kids. It was a task he wished he got to do more often.

“Hey.” his daughter greets him with a smile on her face. He steps aside and lets her enter the side door, where she flops her black backpack on the floor and settles into the seat, pulling out her phone and begins to start scrolling through it.

“Dad!” he hears another voice exclaim, quickly tracing it to his son, who was currently running to the car, backpack bouncing up and down behind him. The sixth grader moved across the property quickly, greeting his dad with a fist bump before sliding into the back seat.

He closes both of his kids doors before making his way into the driver's side, revving up the car’s engine before he drives down the long block, whatever music his daughter decided on playing through the radio.

Alex winces when the music begins to blare through the car, “Brynn, turn that crap down would you?”

Brynn’s face looks scandalized. “It’s not crap. It’s art.” she emphasizes, turning it up even louder and screaming the words. (Poor Brynn couldn’t sing, and she knew it)

“I came in like a wreeckingggg ballll I never hit so harddd in loveeee all i wanted was to break your walls all you ever did wre-e-e-ck meee.” she yells, using her phone as a microphone, hair flying around wildly as she moved up and down, side to side in her seat.

Alex rolls his eyes, unable to hide the smile on his lips. His wife and daughter were too much alike sometimes. He turns the knob himself, sending his daughter a look, silently telling her not to do it again.

“I think it’s crap. Just like how I think you sound like a dying cat whenever you sing.” his son pipes in from the back, a signature Karev smirk plastered on his lips as he keeps his gaze locked on his phone.

“Shut up Rory,” she sneers, “Nobody likes you.”

Rory fakes a laugh, looking back to his phone, and then to the scenery outside his window. They passed house after house until they finally reached their destination, John Quincy Adams Elementary School.

“Wait here,” Alex instructs the two kids, who murmurs their we know’s, more focused on the devices in their hand to the words coming out of his mouth.

He makes his way to the ‘log cabin’ that sat at the front of the school, giving a friendly smile to the woman sitting at the sign out table, a crappy fold out plastic table that had definitely seen better days. “Faye and Bridgette Karev.”

The woman slides the forms across the table, handing him a pen. “Sign here and here. I’ll go get them right now.” She stands up from her seat and heads inside to tell the two girls that their father had arrived.

Alex sprawls his messy signature onto the page, huffing before leaning up against the gate. His girls could take anywhere from thirty seconds to five minutes to pack up their things. Luckily today didn’t seem to be the latter, because before he knew it, the two youngest Karev’s came bouncing towards him.

“Daddy!” “Daddy!”

The seven year olds gave him a large hug, showing him matching toothless smiles. When Jo and him found out that she was pregnant for a third time, they were overjoyed. They had always wanted more than two kids, but hadn’t really been actively trying. They were excited to expand their family of four into a family of five. When they discovered that she was not carrying not one, but two babies, they were shocked. Jo wasn’t expecting to get pregnant at thirty-nine, much less with twins. Brynn was seven at the time, and Rory was five, so they were worried about how their kids would react when they found out two new babies would be joining the Karev household.

Rory --surprisingly-- took the news really well. He was excited with the fact that he could have baby brothers. (Oh well. Alex Karev only seemed to make girls, Rory being the one exception.)

Brynn was a bit more reluctant. She had heard from her friends at school how much babies cried and stole all the attention. She loved both her parent’s equally, but she was a Daddy’s girl through and through. The thought of losing both of her parent’s focus was terrifying. What if her Daddy called her new siblings names like Bug or Princess? Those were her names, and her names only. She couldn’t let the new babies steal her names.

It took a while, but after multiple long talks and countless acts of reassurance, but Brynn eventually came around to the idea. Before they knew it, Brynn was just as excited for the upcoming babies as they were. Jo was worried throughout her whole pregnancy. Since she was almost forty, she was now considered to have a geriatric pregnancy. Just the word ‘geriatric’ did nothing to soothe any woman’s nerves, but add that to the fact that Jo was a surgeon and knew all the risks of pregnancy, and she was practically a mess the first few months. As it turned out, the twins ended up being her easiest pregnancy, since Brynn decided to make her entrance into the world four weeks early and while she was carrying Rory she had the occasional spotting that terrified her to her core every time, worried that she was miscarrying.

The twins ended up being born at thirty-five weeks, perfectly healthy. The only thing that gave Jo any trouble at all was the severe morning sickness, which turned out to be all day sickness.

But in the end it was way more than worth it. Faye was pretty much Jo reincarnated, just like Brynn. Every aspect about her was exactly like her mom. Her hair, her eyes, her face shape, chin. The only thing that she inherited was the Karev crooked grin, which all of their children had. (She didn’t even have a big Karev head when she was born!)

Bridgette on the other hand, was all Alex, except for the eye color. Between her potty mouth, sassy attitude, and overall appearance, she was the female mini evil-spawn.

The Evil Spawn Jr, title belonged to Rory, who was basically the male version of Bridgette. Same spunk, same mischievous smirk. Jo was always telling him that she didn’t know what she did to deserve three devil’s in her house. Alex always found that one really funny.

“You guys got everything?” he questions the two, who nod their heads up and down enthusiastically, skipping to the car and greeting their siblings.

He drives the twenty-five minutes back to his house, the twins chattering about in the back seat.

“And then Julie showed her her math problems, and I tried to tell her they were wrong, but she just wouldn’t listen!”

“Tommy was sooo annoying. I kept telling him to stop making noises with his pencil, but he just rolled it back and forth so many times!”

Alex laughs under his breath, listening partially to the twins’s conversation. They sounded exactly like how Cristina and Mer used to rant about completely different things to each other, so it never failed to make him think back to the ‘olden days’ as he and Meredith liked to call them.

If someone were to tell cocky, intern Alex that he would be happily married to the love of his life for (legally) fifteen years, father of four kids, and lived in a house that literally had a white picket fence on the outside of it, he would’ve sent them to a long term psychiatric care facility, because there was no way he would ever have that life. (A life he always secretly wanted, tucked into the very tiniest corner of his brain so it could never venture farther than a fleeting thought here or there).

“--We’re here,” he calls out, shutting off the engine as he parks in the driveway, the kids unbuckling their seatbelts and scrambling out of the car, eager to escape the confines of the vehicle and enjoy the peace of their rooms.

Once all five were inside, he watched as the four children parted ways. “Faye, Bridge, you have thirty minutes of reading down here. Ror, you have that history test you need to study for, and Brynn, you know what you need to do.” he says, his two oldest tromping up the stairs as the twins take their place in the living room on separate seats, already engrossed in the books they needed to read as part of their daily homework assignments.

Alex lets out a tired sigh as he flops onto the couch, more than tempted to grab the remote from the side table and flick on ESPN, but knew that he couldn’t. As much as the girls loved reading, they got distracted from books really easily. Loud horns, cheers, and buzzers wouldn’t be the way to go if he wanted any work to get done. Instead, he plucks the iPad from the coffee table, picking up where he left off that morning with an online medical article.

Before he knew it, Faye and Bridgette’s timer had rung out and they started on their math homework on the kitchen island, something that they finished with ease. Another trait Alex was grateful the children inherited from Jo, her smarts. (Specifically in math)

“Ugh!” he hears a loud exclaim from upstairs, causing him to look up from the device in his hands and glance towards the steps, half expecting an angry looking Brynn to come storming out at any moment. He huffs, focusing his attention back to the iPad in hand when no mini Jo comes down.

“No! There are no other ways!”

Another loud groan of frustration.

“Son of a butthead! There are NO more ways! None! I don't know how the frick to prove that the freakin angle is congruent!”

Alex debates ignoring it and letting his daughter figure it out on his own, that is until he hears something hit a wall. He quickly makes his way up the stairs and to Brynn’s bedroom, standing in the doorway for a few seconds, trying to observe the scene.

Brynn’s normally pristine room had books scattered on the ground, blankets thrown to the side, and an open notebooks posed at an awkward angle on the floor.

Well, at least he knew what hit the wall.

Brynn sat on her bed, literally glaring at her computer screen, partially debating whether or not to throw the expensive device across the room. She didn’t break eye contact, as if she was in a staring contest. Alex wanted to laugh, but he knew a deathly glare would be sent his way if he did.

He knocks on the wood door, sending a questioning glance Brynn’s way as she finally breaks her stare with the inanimate object. “Everything okay?”

The brunette huffs loudly, bouncing back onto the bed as she lets out a groan.

“I hate proofs.” she turns her head to look at her dad, Jo’s signature puppy dog face plastered on her features. He couldn’t help but chuckle. It was crazy how much Brynn looked like Jo. Add that onto the fact that she too shared a love for flannels and jeans, she was pretty much what he imagined a fourteen year old Jo to look like. When he first found out that Brynn was going to be a girl, he said to Jo, ‘I’m gonna need a gun.’

Luckily, that never happened, partially because of the fact that Alex hated guns and Brynn had yet to have a boyfriend. He was more than thankful for that. Especially since he’d seen couples at Brynn’s school canoodling in what they thought was private, even though they were in full view of everyone. He’d be fine with his not-so-little little girl dating when she was twenty-five, no earlier. Any man before that would not be very fortunate.

“I’ll help,” Alex says, taking a spot next to her and Brynn begins to show he dad the problems on her screen, going on about how she was struggling to figure it out.

Shouldn’t be too hard, right?

____

Jo Karev was thrilled when Bailey offered to take over her service for the rest of the day. Her husband had gotten off early, and Bailey knew how much of a struggle it was to spend quality time with family as a surgeon.

She thanked Bailey so many times she lost count, all while boasting a large smile. She couldn’t remember the last time both she and Alex had been home before five o’clock. All she wanted was to go home, snuggle with her babies, and spend time with her husband. Well, her babies weren’t technically babies anymore, Brynn was fourteen, Rory was nearly twelve, and the twins were seven, but nevertheless, they would always be her babies. (Who cared if Rory was five foot three and already almost as tall as her? He was still such a mommy’s boy.)

She drove home with a smile on her face, humming along to the songs on the radio. She was so happy. She wanted to take her kids in her arms, and watch action movies on the couch while they pigged out on pizza together.

When she pulls up in the drive she practically bounces up the steps to the house, swinging open the door and dropping her coat carelessly onto the rack. She hadn’t texted Alex to let him know she was coming home early, in hopes to make it a joyful surprise.

Her heart stopped momentarily at the sound of yelling coming from upstairs. Arguments between Brynn and Alex were few and far between, but when they did happen, they were nasty. Alex always felt like crap for days afterward and Brynn stayed quiet, both at home and at school.

“Do the reflexive property again!”

“Dad we already did that!”

“Well do it again!”

“Why?!”

“Do you see any other way to do it?”

“How is that going to help!”

“It just is!”

“Dad, we've done the reflexive property five times now!”

“You think I don’t know that!”

“Say that segment DA is congruent to AD.”

“But-”

“There are literally no other fucking ways to do it! It’s fucking shit! Thats what it is!”

“You act as if I didn’t already freakin know that!”

A loud groan.

“What the fuck even is this one! We’ve managed to do three of them already. Try proving the triangles congruent now. Push random ones, like Side-Angle-Side.”

“This is crap! ‘You don’t have enough proof to show that the blah blah blah.’ Stupid freaking thing! Freaking worthless!”

Jo is unable to suppress her giggle, clasping a hand over her mouth, trying not to make too much noise. It was a relief to know that the current screaming match going on wasn’t an argument.

“They’ve been at that for an hour and a half now.” she hears her son pipe in, drawing her attention to where he sat on the couch.

Jo sets her bag down on the table, greeting her son with a large hug, “Hi bubs.” she mumbles into his hair, feeling his arms wrap back around her. In private, Rory was the biggest cuddler, touchy-feely person you’d ever met, but in front of his friends he tried way too hard to show he was ‘too cool’ for hugging his mom, so Jo took in these moments and held them close to her heart.

“An hour and a half huh?” she chuckles, running a hand through her son’s gelled hair.

Rory snickers, hazel eyes shining with mischief, “Yeah, dad won’t stop cursing and Tissy just keeps screaming alongside him,” he sits back onto the couch. “I’m surprised neither one of them had lost their voice yet.” he smirks his crooked Karev smirk, focusing his attention on the TV where he had opened up netflix, where he was currently binging Bates Motel. The name ‘Tissy’ came from when he was younger and couldn’t for the life of him say either Brynn nor Sissy. It seemed to have stuck all these years, and he was the only one who ever called his older sister that, even ten years later.

She sees him cringe, “I never called you mother right?” he asks, eyes not leaving the screen, where a certain Norman Bates is practically spooning his own mother in the bed, claiming that he couldn’t sleep.

Jo snorts, ruffling his hair fondly, “Definitely not. And if you ever do, you’re dead Ror, hear me?”

Rory rolls his eyes playfully, giving his mom a grin. “I won’t. Promise.”

Jo heads up the stairs, the loud yells continuing to echo through the halls, which she chooses to ignore.

“Dad for the fiftieth freaking time-”

“--What’s going on here?” Jo questions, causing both her husband and daughter to break away their concentration from the computer screen.

Brynn’s face lights up at the sight of her mom standing in the doorway, more than thankful to have someone who actually knew stuff help her with her math. “Mom!” she exclaims, getting up from her place on the bed to give her mother a hug.

“Hey baby. Care to explain to me why the second I walk through the door I'm greeted with screaming?” She questions, eyebrows raised as she sees Alex sheepishly avoid eye contact, suddenly finding the pictures that hung on the wall very interesting.

Brynn smirks, “Well, Dad sucks at math so-”

“--Hey!” Alex interrupts, crossing his arms over his chest. “I haven’t done this crap in like thirty years!” He defends himself.

Jo rolls her eyes and smiles of her own gracing her lips as she reaches the bed and takes a look at the problems on the computer. “Proofs?” she asks from confirmation, earning a nod from her husband and daughter.

She hums, “Given: segment CA bisects angle BAD and segment CA bisects BCD. Prove: triangle ABC is congruent to triangle ADC.” she murmurs to herself.

The brunette laughs when she sees the fact that the pair had put down some form of the ‘reflexive property’ not one, not two, but seven times.

She grins triumphantly as she remembers how to do the problem, the skills seemingly coming back to her after years of them being dormant. “Next statement is angle BCA is congruent to DCA because…” she scrolls through the possible options the box provided, smirking when she found the right one. “An angle bisector divides an angle into two congruent angles.”

She watches as an angle pops up on the screen, only encouraging her to continue, “Then… angle DAC is congruent to angle BAC because an angle bisector divides an angle into two congruent angles.”

Another angle comes up.

“Finally,” she smirks, glancing to the side of for a brief second to take in the draw dropped stares of the two behind her. Brynn was a whiz at math like her mom, but proofs was something she’d been struggling with since they’d started learning them yesterday. Geometry was no joke. Her and her dad had already gotten almost all of the problems done, but it had taken so long to do a few measly problems that they’d lost track of just how long they'd been sitting in the room, arguing back and forth over different possibilities to try.

“Triangle ABC is congruent to triangle ADC, reason being Angle-Side-Angle.”

She grins, wiping her hands together as she hits the submit button, a large green check with a correct! floating on the screen, going over the ways to solve the problem.

Alex glares at her. He’d been working on these fucking proofs for so long now, and Jo just comes in and completes it in less than a minute?

“I hate you.” he gruffs, still glaring at both his wife and the computer.

Jo giggles, leaning over and pecking her husband’s lips. “Love you too.”

She begins to walk out of the room, stopping and calling out over her shoulder as she reaches the doorway, “Now you just need to make sure the twins did their homework!”

37 notes · View notes

blacksurvivalnostalgichanges · 3 years ago

Text

immortal soul:black survival characters as john mulaney

dunno how i didn’t think of that before but

Adela: Hmm, we’re not so different, you and I. You have your law practice, and me, I have all these fuckin’ markers.

Adriana: Well here goes nothing. You ever seen a ghost?

Alex: A lot of people think that you like bulls, and if you just buh- They assume it! When you search your name, the third thing to come up is like “John Mulaney bull?”

Arda: Or if it’s one of those true or false questions, you should be able to add a third option which is “who’s to say?”.

Aya: “So you saw what happened and you did nothing?” “Yeah, ‘cause I was sitting over on the bench.” “Let me ask you this. In Nazi Germany....”

Barbara:It’s just dads, singing so loud, thinking that’ll somehow get their kids to sing.

Bernice: Let’s change the subject! Why are we even talking about Penelope, or whatever her name was? I didn’t kill her! Whoever did kill her only did it to protect her from this world!

Bianca: Remember the Psalms? They’re not songs, ‘cause they don’t rhyme and they’re not good. They’re perfectly named.

Camilo:He’s played for stadiums of 20000 people cheering to him like he’s a god, for fifty years. That must change you as a person. If you do that for fifty years you’re never again going to be like “Uhmmm, does anyone have a laptop charger I could borrow...?”

Cathy:That guy will get up there and sing into the microphone. He’s not a singer, ‘cause he’s not good at it, but he tries.

Chiara: Now I was raised Catholic. I don’t know if you can tell that from the everything about me.

Chloe: Every room she walked into, she’d be like, “So this could be an office. (shakes shoulders) Or maybe a nursery.”

Daniel: I think he was just doing that dad thing of like, “This is a weird topic and I want to talk about a book I read about World War II”. But the way it came off was that he definitely killed that little girl!

Echion:Sometimes babies will point at me, and I don’t care for that shit at all.

Eleven:Famous people are weird as shit. They’re all weird, your suspicions are correct.

Eva:Marty McFly is a 17-year-old student, whose best friend is a disgraced nuclear physicist. And, I shit you not, they never explain how they became friends. They never explain it. Not even in a lazy way like, “Hey, remember when we met in that science building?”. They don’t even do that.

Emma:My dad was so weird, I’d love to meet him someday.

Fiora:I didn’t mean to make it sound like we don’t want children. We don’t, but I didn’t mean to make it sound like that.

Hart: I love to play venues where if the guy that built the venue could see me on the stage, he would be a little bit bummed about it.

Hyejin: “All right, Petunia, wish me luck.” “(french chainsmoker voice) You will die on August 7th, 2037.” “(shrugs) That’s pretty good.”

Hyunwoo:No one cared about my opinion when I was a little kid. No one cared what I thought. Sometimes, people would say “What do you think you’re doing?”. But that just meant “stop”.

Isol: In high school people were like, “What are your top three colleges?” I was like “top three colleges? I thought I’d be dead in a trunk with my hand hanging out of the taillight by now.”

Jackie: He could look at a child and guess the price of their coffin.

If you left your baby with your mother tonight, you’re not gonna race home and check the nanny cam. But if you left your baby with Gary Busey....!

Jan:My wife and I walk around New York city, pushing Petunia the french bulldog in a stroller, and it’s a big stroller, and it has a big black hood. And people lean in to see the baby.

Jenny:Let’s say a kidnapper throws you in the back of a trunk. Don’t panic.

Johann: “Wait, so they forced you to go?” Yeah, I was five. I was forced to go everywhere. No kid is just going to church, like, riding by on his Huffy, like “Woah! What’s this place! Weird byzantine temple with green carpeting where everyone has bad breath and I wear clothes that I hate on one of my mornings of my two days off? Let’s do this!”

JP: “Okay, I think I see where you’re going here. They go back in time, and they stop the Kennedy assassination!” “Oooaaoh. That’s a really good idea. We didn’t even think of that.” “All right, well what do they do with the time machine?” “Well now I’m embarassed to say.”

Laura: My friends were all like, “Is he nice?” No! Or maybe he is, for his version of life! ‘Cause he has a very different life!

Lenox: You just showed up at 8 AM, and they were like, “Put down your stuff. Go to the gym.” And you’re like, “god, I guess they’re finally gonna kill us all, alright. This is younger than I thought I would be but we are pretty big assholes.”

Leon:I was like twelve years old and my dad walked up to me and he said, “Hello... (chuckes) Hello, I’m Chip Mulaney, I’m your father.” And then he said the following. “You know, Leonard Bernstein. Was one of the great composers and conductors of the 20th century, but sometimes he would be gay. And according to a biography I read of him, when he was holding back the gay part, he did some of his best work.”

Li Dailin: I asked my mom if she’d ever seen a ghost. That’s where we’re at conversation-wise in our relationship as a mother and son, because I’m 35 and I don’t have any children to talk about, and she doesn’t understand my career.

Luke: None of us really know our fathers. Anyway...

Magnus: She came in and she picked up the baby, and she was like “It’s okay, she’s just going through that phase where she says penis and vagina a lot”. Aren’t we all.

Mai: Why don’t you give me a candle for looking in the mirror? And a floppy hat, and I’ll tremble off to bed in my Victorian nightgown!

Nadine: Every time I go to the zoo I’m like “Hey, where’s the jaguar?”, and the zoo guy is like “oh, he must be in the inside part”. The inside part? Tell him we’re here.

Nathapon: You are gathered together as a school and you are told never to talk to an adult that you don’t know. And you are told this by an adult that you don’t know.

Nicky:That’s right- there was always assembly, and then, like, that second assembly to yell at you for how you behaved at the first assembly.

Rio:I”ll be at a wedding reception and someone’ll be like, “Heyy, you coming to the hotel bar after? We’re all gonna get drinks and keep the party going”, and I’m like “Nah nah nah sister, you’re not getting me to no secondary location!”

Rosalio: People walk around on the phone now like, “Hello hello? You still there- ugh, lost him”. And that’s it! No follow-through with that guy!

Rozzi:Yeah, he was not a “spoonful of sugar helps the medicine go down” kind of guy. He was more like “brush your teeth. Now boom! Orange juice! That’s life.”

Shoichi: By the way, Detective J. J. Bittenbinder wore three-piece suits. He also wore a pocket watch. Two years in a row, he wore a cowboy hat. He also had a huge handlebar mustache. None of that matters, but it’s important to me that you know that.

Silvia: Children, rather than continuing to teach you how to read, we have cleared the entire day for this random guy!

Sissela: You should be able to write in, “I don’t know. I know you told me. But I have had a very long day. I am very small, and I have no money. So you can imagine the kind of stress that I am under.”

Sua: Some people give off a vibe of, like, right away they’re like “Do not fuck with me”. My vibe is more like “Hey, you could pour soup in my lap and I’ll probably apologize to you!”

William: There are those guys who, they buy the cow, and then on the side, total matador, but...

Xiukai: “And when one feels like a duck, one is happy!” Now that’s debatable.

Yuki: And I have friends I went to college with, and they’re like “oh, you should donate and be a good alumnus”. And they wear shirts that say ‘school’ and it’s like, look....

Zahir: She said, “Okay, I know I don’t get this shit because I wasn’t raised Catholic, and I’m fucking glad I wasn’t because it’s a fucked up organization”, I said “nonononoo, we all know that.”

#immortal soul incorrect quotes #incorrect quotes #eternal return incorrect quotes #from the series 'i'm not tagging like fifty characters'

8 notes · View notes

yamithediaperdork · 4 years ago

Text

Busted, but it’s ok pt 1 (Powerpack story)

If there was anything better then getting the house to yourself on a Friday afternoon, Alex Powers didn't wanna know about it. with it being the summer Julie had taken Katie out for a girl's day, and Jack was hanging out with Franklin Richards over that Baxter building after his morning summer classes. Toss in Mom and Dad still at work and it meant that from 1pm till 5, Alex had the run of the house and was free to do whatever he wanted, after he did his chores. This worked out well for Alex as it went semi hand in hand with what he was planning on doing today anyways, mainly indulge in his love of being a widdle sissy baby. Humming a nursery theme as he stripped, Alex then tugged out a lock box from under his bed and noted with amusement that Jack had been trying to get into it again from the way the combo's were all messed up. "Heh, he'll never learn will he?" he giggled to himself. the lock box was a gift from Mister Parker, who had also included a DNA scan so that Jack could maybe get the numbers right, but if it wasn't Alex thumbing them in, it was useless. Clicking the box open, the young blond sissy rubbed his chin for a second, thinking over his choices. He didn't wanna use the locking panties he had today, there had been a super close call the last time and he'd had to pin himself to the roof for half a hour waiting for his dad to leave so he could go and get the key. The bonnet was also out, while it helped him look cute and he liked it, it was WAY too warm when he was doing chores and he ended up sweating like a pig. In the end he went with a light pink top with puffy shoulders that had a white lace trim on the bottom and on the sleeve, leaving his arms mostly bare for doing dishes and 3 of his princess diapers, noting that he was starting to get low and would have to get Mister Parker to order him some more. (Peter had found out about Alex's little fetish by mistake and had calmed the bawling boy down by offering to help him with it, as long as he was safe and private about it, hence the lock box.) Since he was planing on wetting himself Alex made sure to use a razor and slit slots in two of the diapers then after powdering himself up, he taped them on, making sure that the uncut diaper was on the outside. as a few finishing touches Alex took out a pink pacifier that was on a cord and put it around his neck, and then fished out a purple hair bow and clipped it in his hair before waddling over to the mirror to look at himself, mentally gushing over how bulky his diapies were. "mothers, lock up your sons~" He giggled as he posed in the mirror, striking a few poses and blowing a kiss to himself. He didn't really think about boys a lot despite what he had just said, but the outfit and the diapers had him being a little bit of a silly butt. Half prancing and half waddling, he set upon the first chore of the day, getting all the landry gathered up and starting a load, though he did pause long enough to grab his MP3 player and hooked it on his top, putting the headphones in and turning up the volume.

Jack and Franklin had been having fun, playing around the Baxter building for a hour before they MAYBE let a game of tag get a little bit carried away. Sure technically Mr.Richards lab was off limits but as jack tried to argue, boys will be boys, and he should get a better lock for the door if he wanted to keep them out. That was the argument that Jack had made for the pair, even as Franklin face palmed, apparently knowing it wasn't going to work. "And besides, it's not like that negative zone monster did THAT much damage, you and Mrs. Richards took it down with ease!" Jack finished up. "..I think you need to go home Jack." Was all the seething Reed had said, taking in the wreckage of his lab. "Well about that, my dad isn't suppose to pick me up till fiveish and sooo I'm gonna need a ride ho-" Jack started before Reed yelled at him to leave now. "I'm sorry about this, he gets really cranky about his lab getting wreaked despite it happening ALL the time." Franklin said, walking Jack out of the building. "If Uncle Ben or Johnny were home they'd drive you..as is Mom's gonna be working over time to keep my butt safe." "Eh, it's ok. I'll just remember this the next time he need the help for me." Jack said, all full of swagger. "...when exactly has he ever-" Franklin started to ask, but got cut off. "There's a first time for everything! anyways, good luck dealing with mister grumpy pants. I've got a ton of stupid homework to do anyways, gonna see if I can trick Alex into doing it for me again." Jack said and waved bye. Jack walked the first few blocks on foot, then when he was sure no was was looking he ducked into a alley and used his powers to lighten his mass and fly up into the air, deciding to take the quick way home. 'on the plus side, at least I know Alex will be doing all the chores, He always does when he's left alone, he's gonna make someone a good wife someday' Jack thought and laughed to himself, not knowing how close to the truth he might of been.

With the landry in the dryer, Alex had managed to tidy up his and jack's room, and then Julie and Katie's, taking the time to play with a few of her princess crowns before putting them back. He toyed with cleaning the living room and leaving the curtains open, always a little thrilling but decided to get the chore he least liked finally out of the way and headed for the kitchen inside to get the pile of dishes out of the way. It wasn't hard to tell this was Jack's chore normally as the pile had built up with Jack claiming they needed to 'soak' over and over. 'oh well, at least I'm coming up on the Abra block for my playlist.' Alex thought, starting the water and sorting the dishes out into piles.

Jack landed down in the back yard, no one noticing because of the tree line and resumed his normal mass. "heh, I think I'm getting faster!" he said to himself as he headed for the back door, opening it and walking in. he was about to announce that he was home when he heard a girly voice badly singing a old song and winced. No two ways about it, Alex was cleaning and had reached his Abra section of his play list. "Somebody needs to tell that boy he can NOT sing." Jack said, covering his ears. He almost let Alex just keep singing, it was clear he was in the kitchen and thus likely doing the dishes for Jack and he wasn't the type to look a gift horse in the mouth. Then Alex;s voice broke and he squeaked out the next line and Jack decided it would almost be worth having to finish his own chore if it meant not having to listen to THAT anymore. Coming around the corner and looking into the Kitchen, he was about to shout and get his brothers attention, when he noticed just WHAT Alex was wearing. the sissy top would of been enough to make Jack laugh, but the massive pink and purple diapers really sold it, and really not helping things was the way Alex was shaking his butt back and forth. "You can dance, You can jive, Having the time of your life!" Alex was singing, eyes closed and holding a wooden mixing spoon up like it was a microphone. it would be till he was almost finished the main chorus that he'd opened his eyes. "Ooh, see that girl, Watch that scene, Digging the dancing qu- JACK!" Alex squeaked out. Jack of course couldn't let something like this go by and while the sissy had been singing, eyes closed, and turning around, he'd taken his cell phone out and had started to record. "T-Tell me your not taking pictures!" Alex whimpered, turning crimson in the face and dropping the spoon, tugging uselessly on the hem of his top, in a vain effort to cover the diapers. "Good news. I'm not." jack said, and Alex started to relax. "I'm making a video. wave hi to YouTube." in the silence that followed as Alex let out a soundless shriek, a hissing could be heard as the little sissy wet himself.

14 notes · View notes

sapphicscholar · 6 years ago

Link

November 2024

“And CNN can now project that former Governor Catherine Grant will become the President Elect of the United States. By our estimates, she now has more than enough votes to become the 47th president, the country’s second female president, and the first out LGBTQ president. Folks, this is a historic moment.”

The rest of the commentator’s words were drowned out in a roar of cheering as Cat strode out on stage in front of a room packed full of her supporters. Miniature American flags waved in outstretched hands. Red, white, and blue balloons bobbed through the air above them and fell, scattering across the stage. And rainbow confetti—the one “fun” choice Cat had allowed Kara—floated down from the ceiling. Cat kept one hand on Carter’s arm, her other hand clutched in Kara’s, her fingers trembling slightly, still not quite sure whether she could believe the results. After all, it had only been four years ago when she had walked out on stage to give a rather different speech after a long night of contested results and too-close-to-call-it-yet moments that finally ended after 4 in the morning with a slightly uncertain calling of the election for General Lane.

“It’s real,” Kara murmured, and Cat squeezed her hand just a little harder at the reminder that Kara had always been the one to know exactly what she needed to hear. With a quick peck for Kara and a tight hug for Carter, Cat strode forward to the podium, waving at the crowds and calling out her thanks until the tumultuous applause finally died down. She smiled as it quieted, adjusting the microphone and glancing down at the speech she had prepared, hoping but not quite believing she would have reason for it this time.

“Thank you!” Cat shook her head the slightest amount, still wondering if perhaps it was all some dream she would wake up from, finding the election night still to come. “Thank you all for your support and your donations and your hours and hours of tireless campaigning. And now—now we’re here.”

Kara threw an arm around Carter’s shoulders as they watched and listened from the wings, cheering and laughing and clapping at the lines they had listened to Cat practice the night before. “She’s pretty great, huh?” Kara whispered, earning a low chuckle from Carter.

“Think I can get off work tomorrow since my mom’s president and all?”

Kara shrugged her shoulders. “I’m calling off work tomorrow with a case of First-Lady-itis.”

With a snort, Carter shook his head. “You’re the boss. Of course you can call out.”

Not that Kara took off many days. Or any days, really. After the last campaign ended, she had turned down several offers to return to the Senate as a chief of staff or to manage another campaign. The work with Cat had been enjoyable and meaningful, but after watching and living through the dirty smear campaigns and invasive personal attacks, Kara decided she needed to step back and return to the kind of work that had inspired her to turn to politics in the first place. After a year as a senior researcher at one of DC’s progressive think tanks, Kara had applied for grants and gotten seed money from L-Corp’s philanthropic arm to found an NGO dedicated to advancing alien rights and promoting interspecies dialogue—something she saw an increasingly urgent need for in the face of the Lane administration’s attempts to roll back protective measures like the Alien Amnesty Act. But now the country seemed ready to arc back toward justice, and Kara knew, no matter how late they were out that night, she would head into the office for at least an hour or two the next day to be sure they had put out a statement about Cat’s victory.

By the time Cat finished with the speech and started working her way through seemingly countless interviews with the press, most people finally headed home, leaving the large venue quiet after a night of nervous chatter and raucous applause. At a certain point, Carter snuck in for a hug and yet another congratulations while Cat was between interviews, excusing himself to get a nap in before he had to fly back to the West coast.

James likewise caught an early flight back to California after Cat sent him off with a teasing admonishment to “keep my legacy alive, Jimmy.” Even with assurances that he had CatCo’s best reporters on it and had vetted the proofs of the front page himself, James still ended up heading back out, sighing about how the work of a CEO was never done.

Around the time the sun was beginning to rise, bathing the city in a soft pink light, Kara found a very drunk Alex and an only marginally more sober Maggie making out behind the bar and celebrating the return of a liberal to the White House. After taking a few photos for posterity’s sake, Kara shuffled them outside and instructed two of the hired security guards to take them back to their house, leaving them both with stern reminders to drink plenty of water.

“Can you take us to Shake Shack?” Alex slurred as she flopped into the back seat behind Maggie. “They got great fries. Maggie likes fries. Didja know that? Veg’tarians can have fries at burger places.”

“We’ll get you fries at some point today,” Kara promised as she shut the door behind Alex, rolling her eyes as Maggie dropped her head into Alex’s lap, already half asleep.

While Kara waited for Cat to finish her final interviews, she scrolled through her texts and emails, smiling at all the happy messages waiting for her from Eliza, who promised that she had been watching live from the Grant campaign headquarters in California, and Winn, who included several photos of Americans following the coverage in Germany with the caption: “SO PROUD OF YOU!! Time to go: they’re buying shots. Gonna be so hungover for day 3 of the conference…”

Kara’s phone rang with a call from Lucy and Vasquez as Cat sat down with the last of the interviews that Jasmine had arranged. With a little wave to Cat, Kara gestured at her phone and the back corner of the room before wandering away from the cameras to take it. As she slid her finger across the screen, she couldn’t help the excited squeal. “Good news?”

“Double good news!” Vasquez cheered. “Don’t think we didn’t watch the coverage just because we couldn’t be there in person.”

“Little asshole had to choose the most inconvenient time to arrive,” Lucy grumbled in the background, earning a loud bark of laughter from Vasquez.

“Don’t mind her. She’s still a little grumpy from the 18 hours of labor.”

“‘A little grumpy?’” Kara had to hold the phone away from her face as Lucy yelled. “You try shoving a 7-pound lump out of your—”

“Congratulations!” Kara cut in.

“Thank you!” they both called back, and Kara had to chuckle at the dramatic shift in tone.

“Got a name?”

“Nope.”

“He’s baby X for now.”

“And he’s really fucking cute.”

“Okay, well, he’s kinda weird-looking, but they promise that he’ll be looking a little less alien in a couple of days. No offense, Kara.”

“None taken. I guess.”

“He’s so little. Did you know how little they are?”

“But he’s got, like, these itty-bitty fingernails and everything. Like…he’s a full human, only miniature.”

“But with big blue eyes. I don’t think they’ll stay blue, but they’re beautiful for now.”

“And so much hair. I kinda hope it falls out…might be nice to start again without a big shaggy mop of it.”

“They said it would.”

Kara snorted at the back-and-forth, wondering how long the two of them had been awake at that point. “I think Cat’s wrapping up, so I should probably go, but congratulations again!”

“Congrats to Cat too!” Vasquez cheered.

“Yes! About damn time.”

“Hopefully we’ll make it out to see the baby in the next couple of days, if you don’t mind a big team of security stalking out the perimeter of your house.”

“Go for it. And you know, if they want to take out the trash or pick up some diapers while they’re at it, I hear we’re gonna want all the extra help we can get.”

“Well I’m sure baby X’s godmothers will be more than happy to babysit once they’ve recovered from their collective hangover from hell,” Kara snickered.

“That bad?”

“Oh, I took pictures. Don’t worry.”

Lucy let out a little hum. “Can always count on you for that.”

“I think I might save these ones for the next big birthday party, though…” Kara grinned at the thought of the sheer number of humiliating photos she had saved up for that moment. “Anyway, I’ll let you go, but have a safe trip home from the hospital and give baby X a kiss for me okay?”

“Of course!”

Once Kara hung up, she ambled back over to where Cat was gathering her things and stretching after too many hours spent standing in heels. Throwing Cat’s bag over her shoulder, Kara extended her free hand. “Can I take you home, President Grant?”

“Please.”

December 2024

“God, accounting for a security detail for the president-elect is such a pain in the ass,” Alex grumbled as she pulled out the pegs of the seating chart for what felt like the hundredth time.

Maggie laughed as she wrapped her arms around Alex’s waist and pressed a kiss to her shoulder. “Still better than accounting for the security detail of the actual president, isn’t it?”

“Oh yes, because bumping up the timeline for the wedding by four months was so much easier.”

“You’re the one who insisted on having Kara as your maid of honor, and you can’t just not invite her wife.”

“We should have gotten married before them.”

“Please, you had so much fun giving Kara shit for U-Hauling with Cat after only a year. You wouldn’t have given that up for a slightly easier go of it ourselves.”

Alex let out a long sigh. “Maybe not.” After a moment she added, “But I still think Kara should be doing some of this work.”

“Well then tell her so over dinner.”

“Oh yeah, let’s think about how that’ll go. Hey, Kara? Be a dear. In between running an organization and preparing to move into the White House and making decisions about the inauguration and the ball, could you also figure out this seating chart?”

“You forgot to add in that we could really use the extra time for ourselves since your fiancée is kind of irresistible.”

“Mm yes. That too.” Alex’s eyes fluttered shut as Maggie kissed her softly, their hands twining together.

A knock at the door interrupted them. “Coming,” Alex called out, squeezing Maggie’s hand one last time before making her way over to the front door. She swung it open to reveal Lucy and Vasquez, both of them looking a little worn for wear. Lucy had a diaper bag slung over her shoulder, and Vasquez held an infant carseat in one hand, a bottle of wine in the other.

“Hey! Come in, come in, it’s so good to see you.”

They followed Alex inside, waving at Maggie as she rounded the corner. As Vasquez set the carseat on the ground, Lucy grimaced at the sound of a little whimper.

Alex leaned forward, unbuckling the straps and lifting the baby up, settling him into the crook of her elbow as she cooed at him. “Oh, come here, little Alex. Your godmother’s got you.”

Lucy pursed her lips and glared. “It’s A.J.”

“Mm, but I believe one of those names could be shorted to Alex. And really, I’m still so flattered that you named your son after me.”

Vasquez’s lips twitched as Lucy groaned. “It was a family name.”

“Say whatever you want to, Luce, but me and little Alex are always gonna know the truth.”

Lucy raised her eyebrows at Maggie. “She’s insufferable, you know that, right?”

“Considering we’re getting married in a couple weeks, I think I know that by now.” Maggie raised herself up to her tip-toes to kiss away the crinkle in Alex’s forehead. “But I love you more than anything.”

“Yeah, yeah. You’re lucky I’m holding a baby.”

“And you’re welcome to borrow him anytime you want.”

Vasquez shook her head. “She says that now, but she’s secretly a big softie with him at home.”

Before Lucy could respond, the sound of several SUVs pulling up drew their attention outside. “Cat’s here!” Alex called out. “Maggie, can you deal with the security team?”

Eventually Cat and Kara made it inside, and after a round of passing A.J. around to everyone, Lucy got him to fall asleep in his carseat in time for dinner. When she got back, Vasquez patted the seat next to her, throwing her arm around Lucy’s shoulders and kissing her temple.

Alex raised her glass in the air. “A toast to little Alex!”

“Also known as A.J.,” Maggie chimed in, winking at Vasquez across the table as they clinked their glasses.

“And to the soon-to-be-married couple for hosting us tonight,” Cat added, earning another round of clinking glasses.

“And, excuse me, let’s not fucking forget,” Lucy cut in, “to the next President of the United States of America.”

“Cheers!” the table chorused.

“Here’s to an overdue victory!”

“And eight long years in the White House!”

#supercat #sanvers #political au #fluff #completed fic #fanfic #supergirl #kara danvers #cat grant #alex danvers #maggie sawyer #lucy lane #susan vasquez #supercat sanvers 2020 #ao3feed

45 notes · View notes

chaoticsongkid · 7 years ago

Text

Five Times Mike Said “I love you” and One Time Will Said It Back

Warning: Slight swearing

Mike was jolted awake by the sound of the phone ringing from his bedside table. It took him a few seconds to register what was happening, so he ran to catch it. “H-hello?” He said quietly, not wanting to wake the other residents of the house up. He felt his stomach knot a little at the thought of who might be calling, he knew the Demogorgon was dead, but he couldn’t help but worry still. The knot was quickly released when he heard Will Byers’ voice on the other end of the line.

“Mike? It’s Will.” His voice was shaking and he too sounded scared. “Will! Are you ok? What’s going on? Are you hurt?” Mike listened to Will’s breathing, his worry building with every passing second. “I’m ok, nevermind. I shouldn’t have called in the middle of the night. I’m sorry. We’ll talk tomorrow, good night.” Will whispered, but Mike could easily hear how upset he was. “Don’t be stupid Will, you know you can tell me what’s wrong. I’m always here for you.”

Mike wished he was there with Will, to hold him and help him no matter what was wrong because he cared about him so much. Maybe even too much sometimes, he felt. “It’s nothing really, I just… had a nightmare is all. I was back in the upside down. I kinda just wanted to hear your voice. You know, to assure myself you’re still here.”

Mike felt his heart break just a little knowing that Will still, almost a year after Jane closed the gate, had nightmares about what happened. “I’m here, and so are you. I’m never ever letting you fall back into that-that place.” Mike said.

They fell silent for a little while, both boys having so much they wanted to say, but neither having the courage to say it. Will’s heart swelled hearing what Mike was telling him, and he immediately felt comforted. “That’s really all I wanted, Mike. Thank you so much. I’m sorry to wake you.” “Don’t be!” The other replied. “Wake me anytime Will. You know I love you and want you to be OK. So anytime.”

Their conversation ended not long after that, and Mike fell back into his bed with a big smile painted on his face. After Will’s nightmare, he was the person Will wanted to hear the voice of. He was the one Will had wanted to comfort him. He knew it was probably just ‘cause they were such good friends, but Mike couldn’t help but hope there was more to it than that.

Will, Mike, Lucas and Dustin were stood onstage, looking nervously out at the small crowd. The winners of this year’s science fair were about to be announced, and they were all a little jittery. They knew they had a good shot, but they also knew the group of kids stood to their right did. The judges were whispering amongst themselves, throwing them glances every now and then.

They knew it wasn’t really all that important, but Mike couldn’t help but feel a little nauseous with anticipation. Without giving it a second thought, he grabbed Will’s hand in his own and squeezed. It took him a few seconds to realize what he had done, and suddenly he felt a wave of panic surging through him. Was this weird? Did Will think this was weird? Should he let go and pretend nothing happened? Or just hold on?

Time seemed to slow down as he felt Will squeeze his hand in return. Did that mean Will didn’t think it was weird? Mike really couldn’t read the situation, so just to be sure he grabbed Dustin’s hand as well. Now, if anybody asks, he just wanted to support his team, not hold hands with Will.

After what felt like hours, the judges stood up from their stools and the one in the front grabbed a microphone. “Now, after careful consideration, we have decided upon a winner. In third place, Sophia Smith, Louis Carson and Julia Hansen!” A cheer erupted from the far end of the stage, and the three students ran to fetch their trophy. “In second place, Alex Lopez, Samuel Dale, Joshua Richardson and Leia Brown!” Again cheers erupted, this time from behind, as the students ran forward to collect their prize.

“It’s gotta be us, right? They can’t possibly let Thompson win, can they?” Lucas whispered. Mike turned to look at Will and gave him a small, reassuring smile. When Will smiled back, Mike felt his stomach fill with even more butterflies.

“And in first place, the obvious winners, Michael Wheeler, William Byers, Lucas Sinclair and Dustin Henderson!” Dustin had started cheering right after having heard “Wheeler”, and soon they all joined in.

“I told you! I flipping told!” Lucas exclaimed, embracing Dustin. “Oh my god, yes!!” Will screamed, throwing his hands in the air, dropping Mike’s in the process. “I love you, man! This is awesome!” Mike responded, pulling Will in for a hug. He regretted saying it immediately, what if he’d made Will uncomfortable? What if Will realized Mike meant it in a different way than he might want him to?

He didn’t say much more after that, trying to play it cool. They took their photos with the trophy, and eventually headed home to eat some celebratory pizza. All that was spinning through Mike’s head was the feeling of holding Will’s hand, and images of what they might become if Will did realize how Mike felt. He didn’t get much sleep that night either.

It was the morning of the 22nd of March 1986. Mike stood in front of the mirror by his front door, running his fingers through his hair for what felt like the hundredth time. He didn’t know why he was fussing so much about how it looked, it was gonna get messed up when he rode his bike anyway, but he still felt like it had to be perfect. He straightened his crisp white shirt, and picked up his backpack from the floor, opening the door slowly.

He and the rest of the gang were surprising Will with a birthday breakfast. It was hard to believe he was fifteen already. Time had flown by, and Mike worried they would grow apart eventually. He dreaded the day Will would tell him he’d gotten a girlfriend. It might even drive a wedge between their friendship because Mike was almost certain he wouldn’t be able to bear listening to Will go on and on about anybody that wasn’t him. It was strange, because even though Mike had practically admitted his feelings for his best friend to himself, he was still convinced it was just some sort of a phase.

Outside Dustin, Lucas, Jane, and Max were leaning on their bikes, waiting for him. “Hurry up, would you?!” Lucas yelled once Mike emerged from his house. “For shit’s sake, we’re supposed to catch him before he wakes up!” Dustin said, starting to pedal down the road. “I’m sorry, coming!” Mike replied with a heavy sigh, following the others. Jane looked down at his clothes and then shot him a knowing look. “You look nice. I’m sure he’ll think so too.” She said. Mike felt a blush creep to his cheeks, but he smiled politely in return.

Jane and Mike had broken up two months earlier, but no one else knew the real reason why. They had told their friends it was just because they loved each other more as friends, and although that was partially true, Jane had also said she felt that Mike cared more about someone else than her. He hadn’t understood what she meant at first, but after she stared at a photograph of him and Will before leaving, he understood. Thankfully, they had remained close friends, and Jane had reluctantly promised not to tell anyone about Mike’s crush.

The group biked along the road, singing and laughing with each other, enjoying the surprisingly nice weather. Lucas and Max were upfront, Dustin and Jane following close behind. Mike was in the back, distancing himself from the others. It didn’t take long to get to Will’s house, and they all ran up to the door. Dustin knocked carefully, and Joyce opened up with a bright smile. “Hey everyone! Come on inside, he’s not up yet, but he might be awake.” In the kitchen, she had set the table for them all and returned to cooking the bacon. She waved at them as they made their way down the hallway to Will’s bedroom.

Mike pulled Will’s present out of his bag and smoothed down his hair again. “Let’s just barge through and yell happy birthday,” Max whispered, and they all nodded. She counted quietly, and when she got to three they all jumped into his room. “HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!” Will was lying, asleep in his bed, and was jolted awake. He looked confused for a few seconds, before grinning largely.

They gathered around his bed, and put their gifts on his lap. “Thank you so much, you guys are the best!” Will laughed, looking up at Mike. “No worries dude, I love you. I mean, we all love you. Let’s get you some breakfast!” Mike’s cheeks flushed again, and he dragged Will out of bed, trying to move along the conversation. He realized a little too late that telling Will he loved him wouldn’t have sounded as weird if he hadn’t instinctively corrected himself. It wasn’t weird to say I love you, but it was weird to pretend he didn’t mean it.

Everyone gathered around the kitchen table, eating and having a good time. The rest of the day was spent celebrating, namely at the arcade and at the movies. It all went by in a blur, but Mike still thought about that morning. God, he just couldn’t stop making things weird between them, could he?

I was a warm April afternoon, and school had just finished. Mike and Dustin were leaving their English class, heading for the AV club. “You’re ok, right?” Dustin asked. Mike shot him a confused look, “of course I am, why would you think I wasn’t?” “You’ve just been kinda distant. I figured it was ‘cause of the breakup or something.” They walked in silence for a little while. Mike wasn’t sure what to reply. “Yeah, sorry. Didn’t mean to do that, it’s just been a lot I guess.” He thought his answer might have been too vague, but Dustin said, “I get it, I do. Just let us in on what’s happening, we’re your friends!”

Another silence fell between them, and Mike felt grateful that Dustin didn’t push him for answers.The truth was that ever since he realized how he felt, he had tried to avoid Will when he could, but considering they were best friends that hadn’t gone unnoticed. He was so angry with himself. It was so stupid to let a little crush ruin his longest friendship. He needed Will, no matter what. And avoiding him was not making his feelings go away, if anything it had made them harder to ignore.

They met up with Lucas and Max by the clubroom, but Will was nowhere to be found. “Where’s Will?” Mike asked, a little worried. “Oh, didn’t he tell you? His dad’s picked him up, they were going to some football game.” Lucas said. “Oh.” They entered the room and began their meeting as usual.

Two and a half hours later, everyone was heading home. They walked out toward the main entrance when Mike realized he had left his bike on the other side of the school. “Go ahead, you guys. I came through the back, gotta get my bike.” “You sure you don’t want us to wait?” Dustin asked, but he told them to go.

Mike walked out through the back door and strolled down the steps to his bicycle, when he saw someone sat on the curb. He hadn’t expected seeing anyone else here, considering how long they’d stayed behind. He walked a few steps closer and immediately recognized the striped sweater the boy was wearing. It was Will. His backpack was slumped next to him, and he sat with his head in his hands.

“What’re you still doing here?” He asked carefully, sitting himself down beside his friend. Only then did he notice Will’s sniffling, and he looked to see Will’s eyes red and puffy. “Will! What’s wrong?” He asked, putting a hand around him. “Lonnie didn’t show.” He whispered, pulling himself closer to Mike’s chest. Mike wasn’t sure what to say, so he just stroked his arm.

“I don’t think he loves me.” Will said after a few minutes of silence, and Mike’s heart ached. “Who fucking cares what he feels?” he said, “he’s never mattered, he’s a dick!” Will laughed a little and looked up at Mike’s face. “You think so?” “Yes! The only thing that matters is the people who do care about you, not some ass who doesn’t even try! Jonathan and Joyce love you, Max and Lucas love you, Dustin and Jane love you, I love you. That’s what matters.”

They sat on the curb for almost twenty minutes, talking about nothing in particular. Eventually, they had to leave, and Mike followed Will all the way home. Will had said he didn’t need to, but he insisted, saying Will would have absolutely done the same.

“You should tell him,” Jane said, putting down her book and looking up at Mike. It was Saturday night. The gang had just watched a movie in Mike’s basement and everyone else had gone home. He sighed and rubbed his eyes. “Isn’t Hopper coming to pick you up soon?” Jane rolled her eyes at his attempt to change the subject. “Actually, I’m biking home. Talk to me, Mike! We’re friends.” “There’s nothing to say!” Mike replied. “Mike, friends don’t lie.” She looked him dead in the eyes. “How are you so sure that I like him?” “Not like, love. And it’s not hard to see.” She stared at him, waiting for an answer, but one never came.

He fell down onto the couch and let out a light sob. Jane immediately ran to comfort him, asking what was wrong. “I love him, that’s what’s wrong!” He hugged her back and started crying into her shoulder. “Why is love wrong?” She asked. Once again, there came no reply, just Mike’s ragged breathing.

“He feels the same, it’s not hard to see that either.” Mike’s heart jumped in his chest, but he shot her a confused look. “You’ve gone mad, Jane.” “You’re the one that’s mad, crying over a boy who loves you.” He asked how she could be so sure, and she laughed. “Mike, I think everyone knows how he feels, apart from you. He talks so much about you, and the look in his eyes when he sees you, it’s the look of love.” For the third time that day, Mike had no idea what to respond.

The situation was a little odd. Here he was, lying in his exes arms while she gave him advice about his crush. He let out a soft giggle. “What?” She asked. “It’s just kinda funny. Us, I mean.” She laughed as well. “Yes, I suppose it is funny.” Mike thought back to when he first met Jane, how he’d been the one to kiss her first. Why couldn’t he be that confident now? Why was he wasting time being sad about this thing he wasn’t gonna get over? If Will didn’t feel the same way, at least Mike could stop wondering, maybe then he’d finally get over him.

“I’ll follow you out.” He exclaimed, pulling himself off the sofa, and rubbing away his tears. “Are you ok?” She asked, and he replied, “I’ll let you know tomorrow.” They stumbled up the stairs, and Mike called out to his parents, “I’m just gonna follow Jane home!”, running outside before they could reply. “Thanks, Jane. I think I really needed that. See you tomorrow.” He pulled her in for a hug and then jumped onto his bike. “Wait! Where are you going?” She yelled at him as he biked away. “I’m going to Will’s, obviously!”

Usually, Mike would consider the ride to Will’s house long and tiring, but this particular night it felt like no time at all. Once he got to the Byers’ driveway he threw down his bike, and ran around to Will’s window. Looking down at his watch, he saw that it was almost midnight, so Will was probably asleep. He knocked carefully on the glass, and waited for a response. He heard some shuffling and the window was pulled up.

“What the hell Mike! It’s the middle of the night!” The young boy exclaimed, looking slightly annoyed, but suddenly his facial expression changed. “What’s happened? Are you alright?” Mike pointed up at the window, and asked, “can I come in?” Will quickly moved away from the opening and helped the taller boy inside.

Once he stood in the bedroom, Mike suddenly felt his nerves catch up with him, and he lost all the confidence he’d built up. They sat down on Will’s bed, and Will stared at Mike with big, worried eyes. “Uhh, I kinda should have planned this before storming over here.” Mike laughed, mostly to himself. “You wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t important. Spill it.”

“Ok, I will, just give me a sec. Uhh, you’re my absolute best friend. You know me better than anyone else in the world. You’re funny, smart, talented, caring, and not to mention gorgeous. And I really, really care about you. What I’m trying to say is that, uhhhmm. There’s a reason Jane and I broke up. There’s also a reason I’ve kinda been avoiding you at times. I–uhh- I love you, Will. And not just in the way I always have, in a, uhh, romantic way. ”

Will’s eyes widened, and he sat completely still. He looked at Mike with a confused expression and then, after almost a whole minute, opened his mouth to reply, “I, uhh–” “I’m gonna go home. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything.” Mike interrupted Will quickly, not wanting to hear his rejection. He felt tears stinging at his eyes, so he ran back out the window as fast as he could, leaving Will sat alone in his bedroom, staring at the empty space he’d left behind.

Come Monday morning, Mike and Will hadn’t spoken to each other at all. Will had wanted to call him, and tell him he felt the same way, but it seemed like something he should say in person. He tried going to the Wheeler’s house, but they had said Mike wasn’t home.

Will met up with the gang at the entrance, but Mike wasn’t there. No one had seen him all morning. Will’s stomach dropped, and he felt guilty. He should’ve just stopped Mike from leaving that night, he’d just felt like he needed a bit of time to process what he’d said. It wasn’t every day your best friend confessed they were in love with you.

“Let’s just head inside, I don’t think he’s coming.” Lucas said, and the others murmured in agreement. Will followed them, and they made their way to the first lesson.

Will kept his eyes open for Mike all day, but there was no sign of him anywhere. During lunch he kept his eyes on the door, waiting for him to walk through but he never came, and during every class they shared he would stare at Mike’s empty seat in anticipation.

After school, he knew he had to head straight to Mike’s and when the others asked why he wasn’t staying for AV, he said he had urgent business to attend to. It didn’t take long to get to his house, and he noticed Mike’s bike lying on the front lawn. Will rang the doorbell, and waited for a reply. Ted Wheeler opened the door, looking tired. “Hi, Mr. Wheeler. I need to talk to Mike.” Will said, smiling politely. Ted sighed, and replied, “Mike’s sick, I’m afraid. Goodbye, Will.” He went to close the door, but Will trapped his foot in the opening. “I’m really sorry, sir, but I need to speak to your son now.”

Ted didn’t question him further, not bothering to, he let him in and said that Mike was in the basement. Will threw open the basement door and jogged down the staircase. Mike was lying on his couch, reading a comic-book.

“Hey.” He smiled. “What’re you doing here?” Mike asked, a surprised look on his face. Will could tell he’d been crying, from his red, puffy cheeks. “I came to see you, obviously.” Will joked, walking closer. Mike stood up from the sofa.

“I’m gonna talk now, while you let me finish. Got it?” Mike looked confused, but nodded. “I’m sorry I didn’t say anything that night. The truth is I just didn’t know how to put my feelings into words, but now I think I do. You’re my best friend too. You’re the only person I feel 100% comfortable around, you make me laugh at things that aren’t really that funny, and you give me butterflies just by looking at me. Michael Wheeler, I love you too.” Before Mike had the chance to reply, Will pulled him down for a kiss.

It was short, and sloppy because Mike was unprepared, but it was amazing. They pulled apart and stared at each other in awe for a few seconds, before Mike pulled in for another kiss. This one still awkward, but gentler and sweet. Will’s head was in scrambles, as if his mind couldn’t process what was happening. Mike’s hands made their way to Will’s waist, while Will ran his fingers through Mike curly hair. They had no idea how long they were stood like that, in the middle of the basement making out, but they knew it didn’t matter. Now they had all the time in the world.

#byeler #byeler fanfiction #mike wheeler #will byers #will x mike #mike x will #mike wheeler x will byers #will byers x mike wheeler #stranger things #fanfic #fanfiction #chaoticsongkid

149 notes · View notes

sketchyscrolls-blog · 7 years ago

Text

Jimin x Reader Soulmate AU [I Knew it was You the First Time I Looked into the Crowd] 2

1 2 (You’re Here!)

I finally got to the library and I sat down, deciding to scroll through twitter once again. When I opened it, I saw a video had been posted by Jimin a minute ago. I opened it and I watched as Jimin got off the plane. I tried not to giggle as he said "Touchdown!" and then he turned the camera to himself.

He raised his wrist to the screen and immediately my heart stopped. His wrist was glowing, and he had the same exact pattern I did. "Hello! You're here!" he said. I smiled softly.

"I'm here," I whispered. I immediately commented on the video those very words even though I knew they'd get lost in the sea of other comments. I couldn't wait until tomorrow.

I woke up the next day to my favorite song, Lost, this time. It was ten in the morning and I had to get ready quickly.

I grabbed a nice party dress from off its hanger and I put on some makeup. I actually tried to look good, for once. I mean, who wouldn't? I was about to meet my soulmate today. And he was an idol. He'd be dressed up too, so why shouldn't I?

I contoured my face just slightly and i added some nice eyeshadow for a little pop, and then I got dressed. I grabbed my curling iron which I'd previously plugged in and I began to curl my hair.

Once I was finished, I realized I'd forgotten to put on lipstick, so I grabbed my favorite shimmering one and put it on. I did a once-over in the mirror, grabbed some comfy-yet-fancy shoes, put them on, and left.

On the drive there, I realized there was quite a bit of traffic. I was glad I reserved myself a seat near the front of the stage.

Once I was there, I went through security and I headed down to my seat. Even though I was super early, there were a lot of people there. By the time I got to my seat it was already two. The concert started at seven. I had five hours to kill, so I just opened up my phone and started rewatching BTS Gayo.

I saw some of the people around me were trying to tune in, so I unplugged my headphones and turned up the volume some. I got some thank-yous and such when they realized I did it for them.

Pretty soon a small part of my section was quietly watching my phone. Around five, though, I got a notification from twitter that they'd posted. I announced it to those watching with me and they told me to open it up, so I did.

It was yet another video from Jimin. He said something in Korean that I didn't understand. "Does anyone know what he said?" I asked.

"I do!" said someone behind me. "He said that he's backstage now with the others and that he can't wait to see us!"

Everyone who could hear her screamed, and that included me. "Thank you!" I said to her. "What's your name?"

"It's Alex. What's your name?" she replied.

"It's (y/n). Nice to meet you, Alex!"

"The same goes for you! Who do you stan?"

"I stan Jimin. You?"

"Namjoon. But at first I was biased for Jungkook..."

I laughed. "Doesn't everyone stan Jungkook at first?"

Our conversation lasted for a long while until the Wings videos started showing on the big screens. Everyone started screaming in unision, and I saw arms raised up in the air. So I raised my arms up and then I realized that my wrist was glowing a blinding gold.

Everyone around me had different colors - red, blue purple, white... but none of them had gold. I smiled. Jimin must really be special.

Not long after the videos ended, I heard the opening of Blood, Sweat, and Tears and smoke filled the stage. And then I saw him.

Jimin was onstage now, singing Blood, Sweat and Tears when he saw it. Her wrist. It was gold, just like his. He stopped the choreography immediately, but he didn't stop singing. He raised his wrist up into the air as high as he could.

She would notice this. She had to.

Soon, he saw her wave her arm really quickly at him. He smiled. She knew. He continued to sing the song until the very end, and then he held both hands up to signal to the techies to stop the music.

"You're here!" he shouted, holding up his wrist and staring at her. He ran over to Namjoon and asked him to translate. Namjoon nodded.

Jimin told Namjoon something, and Namjoon nodded. Jimin then yelled into the microphone, pointing at me.

"You! Get on stage!" Namjoon translated. I smiled.

"You got it!" I yelled back. I began weaving my way through the crowd until I got to the edge of the stage. I couldn't reach all the way up, but then Jimin walked up to me and grabbed my arm.

I felt a spark shoot through me and our wrists both glowed brighter than ever. Almost a blinding gold color.

He pulled me up on the stage with him, and then he grabbed my hand, and raised both of our hands up. He showed the world our glowing tattoos.

I heard some cheers, some boos. I was just happy that I was here, with Jimin. But then I realized something. He wouldn't know what I was saying.

"Jimin," I said, and he seemed to melt at my voice. "Can you understand me?"

He brought my hand to his lips and stared into my eyes. "I try. Namjoon helps. I learn English, you learn Korean, it works." I smiled and nodded.

"Namjoon," I said, gesturing him over. He approached us and I waved at him. "Can you continue with the concert? And, where should I go? I'm guessing ARMY wouldn't want to see me up here with you guys. They paid to see you," I said, looking at my feet.

I felt a hand on my shoulder and looked up to see Namjoon looking at me like a father would look at his child. "You can go into the wings. No pun intended." I laughed, and nodded. I walked off the stage into the right wing, and Jimin followed me there.

We listened as Namjoon said a little speech after apologizing for the pause in the concert. But then I felt a hand on the side of my face, and I looked into Jimin's eyes.

"Kiss?" he asked. I giggled at his small attempt at English.

"Yes," I said, and I wrapped my arms around his neck and leaned in. He leaned in as well, and soon, I felt his lips press against mine. They were just as soft as I had imagined.

I heard a loud whistle next to me and next to us I saw Jungkook. He was grinning at us with his cute little bunny teeth and Jimin and I broke apart quickly.

"Aish!" Jimin said. He tackled Jungkook to the ground and began playfully hitting him. I heard him say a few words that I didn't understand and then he yelled, "Pabo!" I giggled.

"Jimin, don't kill him!" I said, patting his back. He immediately stopped and got off of Jungkook, who was now laughing really hard.

Jimin smiled at me and quickly kissed me again, this time shoving his tongue into my mouth for a few seconds before pulling away. "Beautiful," he said, and then he walked back onstage.

Before he got back, I noticed his lips were shimmering a very familiar color... I whipped out my phone and noticed that my lipstick wasn't as heavy as before, and I giggled. I approached Jungkook, who was still on the floor, and I whispered in his ear, "Jimin's wearing my lipstick."

This caused him to start laughing again, and he got up and ran over to Jimin. I saw Jimin blush deeply and I joined Jungkook in his laughter.

Not too long after that, I heard the opening of the next song come on. I grinned and sat on the ground, listening to them sing.

I joined in on the ARMY chant, screaming out the members' names as they sang. More than once, I caught Jimin's gaze.

Finally, they all sang their individual songs. During Begin, everyone except Jungkook joined me in the right wing. I shook Hoseok's hand, and Taehyung just straight-up hugged me. Yoongi gave me a high-five, saying "Thanks," and Jin patted my head. When Namjoon walked up to me, he thanked me for being here.

"Jimin has been looking for you for so long, he thought he'd never find you. So I just need to thank you for existing. Thank you for actually being here. Just, thank you."

I smiled and hugged Namjoon. "Honestly, I know exactly how he has felt for all this time. I'm so glad I finally met him." I let go of Namjoon, who wished me good luck, as Jimin approached me.

"Namjoon!" Jimin called. He said something to Namjoon, which was translated to me.

"He said to tell you we're inviting you on tour with us," he said, matter-of-factly.

"Wait, really?!" My eyes widened and I got excited. "Are you serious? I mean, I dont want to intrude but YES!"

Namjoon laughed at my answer and relayed it to Jimin. He seriously acted out my whole reaction, leaving me near tears from laughter.

Jimin grinned and reached out to me. He grabbed my head and pulled me in for a kiss, and this one got a bit deeper than last time. However, even though it did last longer, it wasn't long enough. The next song in line was Lie. We pulled apart, both of our cheeks burning, and he ran out onstage.

The whole time he sang I watched him from the right wing, singing along. When it got to the chorus I was full out belting it to the stage.

I caught the other boys looking at me with smiles on their faces and I ran over and sang in their faces loudly, making them laugh. Jungkook patted me on my head before I went back to the near-stage.

When Lie was over, it was Reflection, and Namjoon patted my back as he left. Jimin walked up to me, breathless, and I smiled at him. Then I quietly sang him the chorus of Lie, in a teasing way. He smiled.

"Good pronounciation," he said. "Learn Korean. Please?" He pouted. I sighed. Who wouldn't give in to that?

"Okay..." I said. "But only if you learn English at the same time." I held out my hand.

"Yes," he said, shaking my hand.

1 2 (You’re Here!)

60 notes · View notes

userlando · 8 years ago

Text

Crazy Beautiful (Grayson x Reader)

Summary: Song fic, based off of this adorable song. Word Count: 1,411 Warnings: None. A/N: Thank you guys for the immense support. Love you guys so so much!! Hope you like this one xxx

“She’s got big brown eyes and tangled hair, voguing in her underwear. And nothing is better than doing nothing together.”

He remembered when you first started dating, how shy you were around him and how you’d blush when he brushed the back of his hand against yours. He remembered your first kiss how it hadn’t been as nice as first kisses probably should be; it involved a bit of awkward teeth knocking and noses bumping but it was sweet and gentle, and in his opinion it was perfect.

Now, six months later, you lived in a flat together and he never got tired of waking up to your messy hair and your big doe eyes.

On this particular morning you had woken up together, him taking a shower while you padded off to the kitchen to prepare breakfast. He got dressed in a hurry, not wanting to be away from you for too long, and shuffled into the kitchen where he heard cereal being poured and you humming cutely to a song you both had listened to the night before. He found you in your pink, funnily enough, hello kitty knickers and a sweater, hair in a tangled mess on your head. His chuckle made you stop humming, turning around; big eyes meeting hazel, intense eyes filled with adoration. He watched as you smiled shyly, and you hastily poured milk into the two bowls before throwing the empty carton away.

“Mmm, thank you babe.” He thanked you as you padded over to him, handing him his cereal with a smile.

He pecked your lips gratefully, following you into the livingroom to begin your ritual of morning cartoon and breakfast on the couch, snuggled up just you and him.

“Now she got a toothbrush as a microphone, belting out The Rolling Stones and I’m the last one to stop her. Can’t believe that I got her.”

He had picked out his clothes carefully, contemplating whether he should do his hair in his usual quiff or let his hair flop lazily on his forehead like he knew you just absolutely loved. He ran his nimble fingers through his dark hair and sighed at his reflection, frowning at his insecurity.

It had been too long since you both went on a date with you getting pregnant with your little son and then popping out twin girls a few years after that. They required both of yours attention and that left absolutely zero time for you two to go out and spend some time for yourselves. Grayson had voiced out his frustration to his brother, Ethan immediately taking up the offer to look after your kids for the night.

You had been a bit reluctant at first seeing as the last time he had babysat them he had spoilt your five-year old with so much candy that he got a stomach ache for two days straight. But you couldn’t deny the fact that you needed to be alone with your husband, even if it was for a night.

You were so excited that you, in fact, began singing to a The Rolling Stones tune while in your underwear in the bathroom, using your yellow toothbrush as a microphone. And that’s how Grayson found you, peeking around the open door to see you pulling off quite some impressive moves that made him both turned on and amused. He chuckled and eyed your body, meeting your eyes through the mirror you were smiling at him through, thinking of how lucky he was.

“She got a classic style that’s all her own, a smile you can hear through the phone. And she says she’s a rebel but she’s way too sentimental.”

Grayson had been sitting by the hotel bar with the guys after a show, nursing a beer while he listened to the group talking about the fans and how Alex had managed to slip and fall on stage, bringing Ethan with him. His heart were somewhere else though, thinking about you back at home and your three kids. He wondered absentmindedly if you were asleep or if you were awake, and if you were watching another episode of Breaking Bad or if you were doing the laundry.

As if on cue, he felt his phone buzz in his pocket and he quickly fumbled for it, mumbling an apology to the guys as he left the bar while answering the call and pressing the phone to his ear.

“Hi babe, I was just thinking about you.” He murmured softly into the phone and heard you sigh on the other end

He stepped into the elevator, blocking out the screams that could be heard from the few fans outside, leaning his back against the elevator wall.

“I was just doing the same,” You said and he could almost hear your smile, see it in front of him.

A wave of homesickness surged through him and he took a deep breath.

“I was just going to bed when Valerie woke up, I think she misses her daddy. She’s grown up so much, Gray. How did that happen?”

Grayson clutched his stomach and closed his eyes, opening them again when the slight bing sounded in his ear. He hurried to his hotel room, nothing but the comfort of the bed in mind.

“We’re becoming old,” He managed a laugh, and shook his head fondly. “I’ll be home soon before you know it. I love you all so much it hurts.”

“And she’s precious even when she’s mad. Gets angry and I start to laugh and I know it’s nothing, she’s just pushing my buttons.”

“Grayson Bailey!” Your shrill voice brought him out of his calm reverie where he was slouching on the couch, playing FIFA lazily and sipping on his rootbeer drink now and then.

Soon enough you showed up in the living room area, eyes wild and eyebrows knitted together angrily. It took him off guard a little bit, mainly because you always were happy and calm and in his eyes you couldn’t even hurt a fly even if you wanted to. Which the doubted you did, because you would never hurt anyone, not intentionally anyway.

Grayson shifted his eyes away from you to the television for a little bit, not intending to lose the game he was currently playing. He hadn’t had the time to play at all, with the little rascals running around. But they were at some playdate so Grayson took his chance.

“Grayson, I told you to not leave your dirty laundry on the bedroom floor.” You sternly scolded him and put your hand on your hip while waving around what he recognized to be his dirty t-shirt and pajama pants in your other hand.

“Sorry.” He murmured absentmindedly with his eyes still on the television.

You huffed angrily and turned around, proceeding to shut the game off which got Grayson’s full attention.

“Why did you do that?” He groaned, “I was just winning the game!”

You rolled your eyes, “You’re not taking this seriously, I’ve told you off a hundred times but you never listen to me, you baboon.”

Grayson suppressed his giggle as he heard you curse at him, and you glared at him as you saw his eyebrows shoot up in apparent amusement. You and him both had developed this strange habit of cursing in the most ridiculous ways ever, because you didn’t want the kids to pick it up.

“Don’t laugh at me! You’re so frustrating!” You yelled out and stomped away toward the laundry room with angry steps.

Grayson laughed and shot up from the couch, following you while giggling quietly.

“Baaaabe! Stop, I’m sorry you’re just too cute.” He caught up to you and grabbed you by the arms, turning you around and trapping you in his toned arms.

You didn’t reciprocate his hug, but stood there with knitted eyebrows and limp arms.

“I’ll do the laundry for a week, okay?” He murmured and looked down at you, smiling gently when he saw your anger disappear bit by bit.

“Two weeks.” You grumbled, trying to hold on to your anger. But Grayson only laughed with a nod, kissing your cheek gently. “Sorry for calling you a baboon.”

Gray laughed out loud and you pushed yourself off his embrace, slapping him on the arm.

“Shut up!” You scolded him but you couldn’t help but giggle yourself, letting him bring you in for a second hug and this time, you hugged back.

Masterlist.

221 notes · View notes

truemedian · 5 years ago

Text

Dear Apple: don’t let a trackpad turn the iPad into a Mac

Good morning and congratulations on making it through another week. I had been planning on writing about some of the issues I had while writing my Samsung Galaxy S20 Ultra review — specifically my bafflement that Samsung is once again asking reviewers like me to be beta testers. It’s inconceivable that the company didn’t realize there were issues with the camera and also very strange that it didn’t so much as hint at a software update to me until the day before yesterday. I’ll say it again: never buy anything on the hope that future software updates will fix it. Wait. But we covered it pretty well in The Vergecast coming out later today, so please give it a listen. Instead, to the surprise of absolutely nobody given my obsession with how companies are trying to get big-screen computers beyond the UX paradigms of the 1980s and 90s, I’m interested in an iPad rumor about a keyboard. The news is simply that Apple is reportedly releasing an iPad keyboard with a trackpad later this year. It’s a good scoop from The Information. A good piece to read next is about something Jason Snell noticed in the iOS beta released earlier this month: better support for keyboard functions like modifier keys. A third thing to note is that Apple software boss Craig Federighi said, “If you like what you’ve seen us do with iPadOS, stay tuned, we’re going to keep working on it.” If you’re wondering when this might happen, the Apple-o-sphere has all been working on the belief that Apple will be holding a Spring hardware announcement. There are too many rumored products to fit into one event, but a new iPad Pro and a new keyboard for it would definitely make the cut. Given all the recent tech event cancellations due to the coronavirus, however, Apple might be rethinking its plans right now. In any case, I have many thoughts about the iPad — which you might have guessed since I’ve been writing about the iPad’s evolution as a computer so often over the past few years. I would love to speculate on the physical shape and design of the keyboard, but I think that’s better left until later, when we have a better idea of what it might look like. Instead, I just want to point out that the iPad is an OS that is currently hostile to mouse input. I don’t mean that as a criticism, but I do think it’s just stating facts. I know there are people who have enabled the “AssistiveTouch” mouse feature, but what it mainly does is let you emulate your finger taps with a mouse. That means it’s not actually all that helpful with two things that mice excel at: tapping tiny UI buttons and working with text. I’m on record as thinking that Apple’s recent attempts to improve text manipulation like selecting, copying, pasting, and even cursor placement are not very good. And since AssistiveTouch currently only supports acting like a finger, it doesn’t help. I bring this up because I have a radical idea: what if the only thing trackpad support brings to the iPad is better text manipulation? I actually think that is the right move for Apple, at least to start. With the new iPadOS last year, Apple was incredibly ambitious. It added all sorts of new ideas and interaction models to the UI, some of which were confusing. In my original review, I gave Apple credit for finally allowing the iPad to become complicated and I stand by that. But I also believe that it’s not intuitive because its features can’t be progressively learned over time — you basically have to watch or read tutorials, which is incredibly un-Apple-like. I bring all this up because right now the iPad has a lot going on with its overall user interface and I sort of feel that the last thing Apple should do is add yet another variable to the mix. Unless Apple is planning its second major re-think of how we interact with the iPad in two years, it’s just too much of a burden to put on users. Because, as I’ve said before, using a mouse is fundamentally a weird thing to do — it’s actually a level of abstraction beyond just touching the display. It only feels “intuitive” because so many of us learned to use one first, and because “desktop” operating systems do such a good job of progressively teaching you new skills as you use them. They’re consistent and learnable in a way the iPad’s more advanced features simply aren’t. I don’t want Apple to fall back on the crutch of just using desktop OS paradigms to solve the iPad’s user interface intuitiveness problem. The last thing we should want is for the iPad to turn into a Mac. It’s on a different path and it would be a shame to have those ideas tossed out the window just so we can have more traditional windows on the iPad. But I’m not anti-trackpad. I do think it would be a huge help for text selection and it would allow some app developers to create smaller touch targets on their apps. Plus, and this may be anathema to some, the iPad makes a lot of use of right-click style actions now (just long press to see them), and a trackpad could help with that too. If you haven’t done so in awhile, go on and watch Steve Jobs’ seminal iPhone introduction. Pay special attention to how he talks about styluses and fingers. It’s easy to forget now, but the iPhone was a radical reinvention of user interfaces compared to what most people had used. Only a tiny sliver of apps on smartphones were designed to be used with a finger — shout out to SnapperMail, my favorite email app for the Treo and the subject of a wonderful 2003 Walt Mossberg review. None of the smartphone operating systems before the iPhone were optimized for fingers, though. They all required a stylus or physical buttons to get around. The iPhone UI was revolutionary because it just had one button — the home button — and it was designed from the ground-up to be touched. The iPad continued that legacy, just on a big screen. Adding a trackpad to that seems like a good idea, but I dearly hope it doesn’t take away from all the benefits we get from a purely touchscreen interface. We already have the Mac, the iPad doesn’t need to turn into one too.

Coronavirus

┏ Facebook cancels F8 developer conference due to coronavirus concerns. ┏ Plague Inc. pulled from the App Store in China amid coronavirus outbreak. In late January, Plague Inc. saw a resurgence in downloads in China and became the country’s top paid iOS game. In response, Ndemic Creations released a statement reminding players that Plague Inc., while it was designed to be realistic and informative about how diseases spread, is just a game. It’s currently the top paid game in the US App Store. “We would always recommend that players get their information directly from local and global health authorities,” the company said in January. ┏ Tim Cook says Apple is reopening factories as China gets ‘coronavirus under control’. ┏ Health secretary Alex Azar won’t promise that a coronavirus vaccine would be affordable. ┏ Coronavirus merch is somehow worse than I expected.