I feel another read more coming along

I Loved Your Dead Gay Son (Tree Bros) Part One

Plot: a textpost from @legendary-gaurdian-of-fun: “one where Evan and Conner were dating prior to Conner’s suicide, and Evan has to fake their friendship not because he didn’t know Conner but because his parents/town are incredibly homophobic. And Conner and Evan weren’t exactly subtle in their private emails so Conner can’t actually show those ones.”

Warnings: suicide, attempted suicide, homophobia, grief, two too many heathers references, overall just pretty shitty


Evan reread over Connors note again, not being able to, or not wanting to rather, believe that his boyfriend had killed him self. He felt too many indescribable emotions, the biggest one being guilt. He had to have been a terrible boyfriend to not know Connor was suffering, right? No, he tried telling himself otherwise, it couldn’t be that he was a bad boyfriend, Connor just didn’t want to worry him, it said so in the note, along with a ‘don’t feel guilty because I know you know that feeling too’ that Evan hoped Mr and Mrs. Murphy wouldn’t read into too much.

“We had no idea Connor had any friends, not anyone he would be close enough to write his… his note to,” Cynthia choked out, wiping another tear from her eyes. Evan wouldn’t dare to come right out and tell her that we was more than friends, or even best friends, with her son. Connor had spent so many nights crying to Evan about how homophobic his parents were and how if they ever found out about him and Evan he would be kicked to the curb with nowhere to go. Of course, Connor did want to move out and get away from them desperately, but he couldn’t handle that just yet, he needed more time and more money until he could be free.

“Yeah, y-yeah we were pretty, uh, pretty close,” Evan stuttered, realizing now that this was actually the first time he’d ever met his boyfriends parents. He’d never imagine this was how it would go. He wished that it didn’t have to be like this.

“Connor never talked about… about anyone being his friend,” Larry said, his words would sound very skeptical if it weren’t for their sad tone. Evan wanted to scream and cry at them about how they were the reason Connor never told them about him.

“Yeah, well, uh, I, uh, I guess he just-he just didn’t want to admit to being my friend or something,” Evan mentally slapped himself for not being able to stand up for his boyfriend, “I mean, I’m kinda a, kinda a-”

“Nerd,” Zoe piped up for the first time since Evan had been in their house. It was familiar to him, since whenever Larry had work as Zoe had jazz band practice and Cynthia had to go to some exercise class for whatever trend she was trying now, Evan was over with Connor. It was rare when all three of the other Murphy’s weren’t home, but the few times it happened Evan secretly loved being able to come over and just talk to Connor.

“I was gonna say loser, but, uh, yeah that works too.”

“Zoe!” Cynthia scolded.

“But see the weird thing is,” Zoe said, ignoring her mothers scolding, “the only time I ever saw you and my brother together at school was when he shoved you the other day.”

“He shoved you!?”

“I, uh, I tripped,” Evan stuttered out a lie as he tried to think of how to play off what had happened, “I uh, tried to talk to him, uh, tried to talk to him at school, so he, uh, you know.” Of course Evan wasn’t going to tell the truth…

<i> Connor had waited by Evans locker for him, knowing it was going to be his last day on Earth with his boyfriend and wanting to make the most of it, for Evans sake. When Evan turned the corner to see Connor waiting for him, he was shocked to say the least.

“What, uh, what are you doing here?” He asked, looking around nervously to make sure Zoe wasn’t around, noticing a few people were staring but only because they feared Connor and thought that he was going to attack poor Evan.

“I wanted to see my fucking boyfriend,” Connor said matter-of-fairly, but still quietly so that nobody could hear him call Evan his boyfriend except Evan, who blushed a deep red in response.

“But, uh, but what if someone sees or what if, uh, or what if Z-Zoe comes by and uh sees us,” Evan squeaked out as Connor laughed.

“Relax, okay, you’re adorable when you’re all nervous though,” Connor smirked as Evan got redder.

“Well if it isn’t the gayest kids in school,” Jared said as he walked up to the pair, Evans ears tinting red as Connor rolled his eyes. Connor regretted that Jared knew about them and was the only one because the boy didn’t know how to refrain from gay jokes or explicit sex jokes every time he saw the pair together. He glared at Jared with a blank stare.

“Chill, it was just a joke,” Jared responded, seeing Connors expression.

“Oh yeah I know, it was funny, I’m laughing. Am I not laughing hard enough for you?” Connor replied, yelling a little no matter how hard Evan tried to shush him from the corner of his eye.

“You’re such a freak,” Jared replied, looking down the hallway in the direction he came from, “Sister alert, freaks,” he warned before walking away. Connor sighed, remembering that as annoying as Jared was he was good for one thing: warning when Zoe was around. Connor spotted her from the corner of his eye and looked to Evan, mouthing an ‘I’m sorry’ before he shoved Evan, yelling about how he was a freak before tearing down the hallway, people moving quickly out of his way.</i>

“That wasn’t very nice,” Cynthia said, clearly upset at her sons actions even though she couldn’t do anything about them.

“Well Connor wasn’t very nice,” Zoe replied, shaking her head slightly, “so that makes sense.”

“Connor was, he was a complicated person,” Cynthia said, looking for the words to describe Connor. <i> Complicated doesn’t even began to describe it, </i> Evan thought.

“No, Connor was a bad person, there’s a difference!” It hurt Evan to hear Connors sister talk to badly of him, and he wished he could tell them about the real Connor, the sweet Connor that would stay up with him just to talk about anything, or would sneak in his window when his family was being extra annoying.

“Zoe, please,” Larry spoke up, not wanting to hear Zoe’s words either.

“Don’t pretend like it’s not the truth!”

“You can never see the good things in him!”

“What good things mom?” Zoe yelled back at her mother, who walked away from the table and sobbed, “tell me! What good things were in him!?” Evan could see the tears in her eyes and didn’t know if she was sad or angry. He didn’t know how to react to the family fighting in front of him. At this moment he felt like he knew Connor even more, if possible, now that he’s seeing what his home was like everyday.

“There were a lot of good things actually,” Evan surprised himself and the Murphy’s by interrupting the fight.

Zoe looked at him expectantly, “Like what.”

“Well, uh, we used to, uh, we used to go to the, uh,” he felt his hands getting sweaty as he got more nervous, wondering how he could make their dates seem any less, well, gay, “we’d go to the, uh, apple, apple, uh, apple place,” He slapped himself mentally. ’<i> apple place? really Evan!</i>’.

“He took you to the orchard? That placed closed years ago, we used to go their all the time and have picnics, don’t you remember, Zoe?” Cynthia smiled for the first time in what felt like forever.

“Y-yeah, we used to, uh, we used to walk through the old, the old trees. And we’d uh, get ice cream, down at, down at A-La-Mode some-sometimes!” Evan held back tears as he remembered the sight of Connor with whipped cream on his nose, or their first date their when they both were so nervous. Evan never told Connor how cute he thought it was seeing the school badass flustered. My god did he wish he had told him how cute he looked flustered, now that it was too late, “We’d sit in that, sit in that old empty field, with all the, uh, with all the four-four leaf clovers. We’d talk about what we wanted to do when we’d get out of school, you know? Like, uh, like the Appalachian trail or, uh, I don’t know, writing a book or learning to sail, they were all just, uh, just dumb little dreams, but we liked it, I guess. We’d talk about, uh, about,” Evan looked mentally for something to come up with, “Girls! Yeah, like, that we, uh, we wished would notice us.”

’<i> Great job, Evan, really subtle, a perfect way to say IM TOTALLY NOT GAY AND TOTALLY WAS NOT DATING YOUR DEAD GAY SON</i>’

“We would, uh, we’d climb some of the old trees, thats how I, uh, broke my arm. We were climbing one of them and I just, I fell, but he was right there for me, he came to get me, so everything was, uh, was okay,” Evan choked up a bit, nothing that wasn’t the truth.

Evan recalled the day he and Connor were at the orchard. He remembered Connor telling him that there was nowhere else he’d rather be than in Evans arms. Evan smiled sadly and held his arms together, wishing Connor was wrapped between them.

“We didn’t always get to hang out though,” Evan said.

’<i>Because you’d probably kill him if he left to hang out with his boyfriend</i>,’ Evan thought.

“But we’d, uh, we’d email,” Evan said.

’<i>You dumbass they probably checked his email account already</i>,’ Evan thought.

“But on a secret account, so they’re more private,” Evan said.

’<i>I mean, it’s not a lie, but what better way to scream SECRET LOVERS than a secret email account, nice going</i>,’ Evan thought.

“I can, uh, bring you some,” Evan said.

’<i> JUST. STOP. TALKING.</i>’ Evan thought.

“Oh, we’d, we’d love that,” Cynthia smiled, taking Evans hands in hers as he stood up, her wrapping her arms around him tightly, whispering a thank you in his ear.


“A secret email account!? While I don’t doubt that you guys had one, do you know how many dick pics are probably in those emails?” Jared laughed through the phone.

“Okay I panicked, and I, and I didn’t know what to say so I just started talking and then I, and then I didn’t stop. I mean, uh, what was I supposed to do? 'Hey you wanna here about all the dates I went on with your dead gay son?’” Evan spoke fast as he paced his room, cell phone in hand.

“Well that would’ve been more subtle than that. Dude, how are you supposed to show them emails, unless you want to show them your creepy gay sex emails.”

“We didn’t have creepy sex emails! We, uh, we just… I don’t know,” Evans face went red, not that Jared could see, but knowing Evan he knew he was blushing and flustered right now.

“I mean it’s not hard to backdate emails, I do it all the time, I mean, I wasn’t the only member of our IT club for nothing,” Jared laughed, as if he was bragging, but in all honesty Evan didn’t know what there was to brag about in that sentence.

“Wait so you’d, you’d do that for me?”

“Sure, why not? For two grand.”

“Two thousand dollars!?”

“Fine, five hundred.”

“I can give you twenty.”

“Fine, twenty, but you’re a dick,” Jared said before hanging up his phone and grabbing his laptop, putting it in his bag to make his way to Evans house. Evan hung up the phone and was about to pull out his laptop when his mother, Heidi, came in the room.

“Hey,” she said, Evan noticing something was up that she wanted to talk about, “I got an email from your school today, something about a kid that killed himself, a Connor Murphy? Did you know him?” Evan froze at his boyfriends name, still adjusting to the fact that he was dead, not having been given enough time to mourn him.

“Uh, no, no I didn’t know him,” Evan lied. ’<i> was it really a lie? I mean, how could you not know your own boyfriend enough to know he was suffering! </i>’ Evan thought to himself, wondering if this is how Connor would have felt if Evan ever got the chance to tell him about the past summer. Not that he ever would, Connor would hate him if he knew the truth.

“Oh, okay, good. Youu know you can always talk to me right? I’m always here or just a, just a phone call away, right?” Heidi reassured her son as he replied with a nod. Her gaze glanced to his cast, “Okay it says Connor, right there, he, uh, he signed your cast.”

“No, that was a, uh, a different Connor, dont, uh, don’t worry,” Evan lied, holding back tears yet again as he remembered Connors worried face when he climbed in Evans window to see the big cast on his arm…

<i> It was the night before their first day of senior year. Connors parents had him on house arrest for two whole weeks, taking away his phone and laptop. He wasn’t happy about it, of course, and spent most of the time in his room throwing and punching things, threatening his families life, not that he was proud of it. Him and Evan both felt alone when they couldn’t talk to the other, and he had no way of communicating to Evan what happened and that he wasn’t ignoring him. He worried for Evan and knew his mind must be racing and jumping to conclusions. When he finally was given his computer and phone and privileges back, he immediately left to go to Evans. He climbed in through the window as per usual, finding it more fun than going to the door in all honesty. Tapping on the glass he heard a small gasp before the window opened. Jumping in he was met with a slightly red eyed Evan, with a big white cast on his arm. He pulled him into a hug, apologizing and explaining that he was locked up the entire time and asking a million questions about Evans arm.

'I, uh, I fell… out of a tree,“ Evan replied, not wanting to admit to Connor that he was a hopeless wreck without him. Connor would think he was pathetic and would hate him.

“You fell out of a tree?” Connor had his hands on both of Evans shoulders, “Well isn’t that the saddest fucking thing, oh my god,” he laughed it off, so did Evan. Connor wrapped his arms around Evan, feeling better than he had the previous days.

“Hey, so, I actually came over here with somethings. Presents, I guess, as a 'sorry-I-couldn’t-see-you-for-two-weeks’ surprise,” he said, pulling out of the hug reluctantly and rubbing his neck. He sat in Evans bed and took his bag off of his shoulder, setting it next to him on the bed, pulling out about ten books, “I brought some books, I know, fucking lame, but I like them. They’re probably my top ten books of all time,” he said looking down at the books thoughtfully. Evan sat next to him, seeing how he was a little passionate about the books and thinking it adorable. They looked through the selection, including Perks of Being a Wallflower, Of Mice and Men, Amityville Horror, and a few other small, but good books, including many classics, smaller unknown indie books, and a book of Edgar Allen Poe poems.

“Th-thanks, Con, but why are you giving these to me? Not that I don’t want them of course I’m very grateful I just-”

“You’re adorable,” Connor interrupted his rambling, making Evan blush. “I don’t know, they just, they mean a lot to me, and you mean a lot to me, so here you go, I guess.” He blushed nervously, hoping Evan would take them, “If you read them I think you’ll enjoy my commentary in the sides.” Evan smiled and kissed Connor on the cheek, thanking him.

Evan wished he had read into the signs and realized what Connor was planning then.

“Oh, well, okay. I have to go into work now, and I probably won’t be home until late again. Sorry, Evan, there’s money on the counter for food, okay? Bye, love you,” Heidi kissed her sons head as he shook out of his daydream, mumbling a bye as she left the room, Jared entering the room just minutes later.

“Ready to forge some weird ass sex emails!”


I wanna split this up into more parts so expect a part two and probably three next week!! I worked literally all day on this and I’m just not feeling good rn to finish writing it. Idk just not mentally okay rn, summers just hitting me bc I have no life or friends when summers here so 😊. But I’m fine lol enjoy. Happy stuff coming later maybe??

Aziraphale and Crowley as Authors au, because I have Too Much to write, but I want to at least share this idea.

AJ Crowley is one of those authors who puts out a book every six months, and every one is a bestseller. You see them everywhere, from the front of every bookstore to the small book section in grocery stores. Aziraphale (or whatever his human name is) has written one gargantuan novel, over a decade ago. It was widely acclaimed–within the literary circle–won tons of awards, and is considered one of the best works of fiction of the generation. He hasn’t been able to write anything since.

One day, AJ Crowley stumbles into a bookstore, probably trying to avoid fans who might have recognized him (you know you’re a popular author when people actually know what you look like). Sitting behind the counter of this bookstore is–the esteemed author of his all-time favorite book. The author of the book that changed his life and made him start writing in the first place, the author so different from him, but whom he still aspires to be. Glaring at him. He does not know who AJ Crowley is, nor has he heard of any of his books (he only reads Literature).

But they chat for a while, anyway, because truth be told, it’s been a while since anyone has actually talked to Aziraphale about his book, and truth be told Crowley is not about to leave without talking with him, no matter how much he may be glared at. The glaring stops and Aziraphale eventually hints that maybe he wouldn’t be so terribly unwelcome if he wanted to come back some time, to discuss writing, or something along those lines….

They talk a few more times. And one day, out of curiosity, Aziraphale stops by another bookstore–one that sells as many posters and novelty socks as actual books (I admittedly adore these stores but Mr. Fell has mixed feelings). Sure enough, the Crowley books are right at the front, so he picks one out, just to see. It’s not too long, after all.

He reads it all in one night.

It’s fast-paced, exciting, and more based on the characters than a unique plot, but it’s also….very, very good? There’s just something about Crowley’s characters. He understands people, so well, better than Aziraphale ever had. And that one little paperback book with the brightly-colored cover and the title in the most hideous bold metallic font contains more insight into the way the world works than Aziraphale has been able to put on paper in over a decade.

One more chance

I don’t even know what else to say. I can’t find any poetic words to describe what’s in my mind and in my heart. I have let you bring the sharpest knife to the table. Let you cut through my chest to reach the heart. You broke it open and saw all the lay inside. I didn’t flinch for I didn’t want to scare you- sharp knives can cut real deep if one move goes wrong. 

Exposed, vulnerable, raw, I stood in front of you; there was nothing left to me, you saw it all. 

It seems like we boarded the wrong train- stopping points at miscommunication, misunderstanding, misrepresentation. I kept going back to our conversations, looking at what went wrong, over analyzing each detail, overthinking each thought. It might have caused me my misery, I may have become…my worst nightmare after all. 

We all make decisions and I am at peace with yours. Not only do I understand it, I accept it so. I’ve tried showing my respect for it, but it seems I must have done something in contrary to make you believe otherwise. I understand your reasons and don’t expect there to be more than what you have expressed to me before. Since you’ve taken a look inside my heart, you know there lies doubts and fears, but I try so hard to push them aside. Now I am the one that has been pushed aside- a result of letting my doubts, overtake what I knew as fact- as I watched you take time off. It’s one thing to leave; it’s another to have no intent, of ever coming back. 

I’ve expressed my feelings over and over again, and said how I’d wait until you were ready to return. There is nothing left for me to say, than what I have already thrown your way.This is me.This is honesty. This is a look in my mind and in my heart. You’ve seen it all before, but they have not. It’s all I have left, to make you look at this, one more time. 

Somewhere along these tracks, we’ve stopped at misunderstanding, looking at each other’s words quizzically for before it seemed to read a different story. We’ve stopped at miscommunication, our intentions taken with a different view; honest, open, communication replaced with guessing each other’s thoughts. Some things are too great to be dropped off the train; one explanation, one conversation, is all it would take, I believe strongly for my heart whispers it loud, to put the train back on the right track. A mere one more chance to clear the fog away, is all I wish for, one day. Some things are more than worth fighting for, even when it seems, you’re fighting all alone. I can keep my head up high, despite the tears begging to bring me down; I did my best to make you stay, not away from your time off, but in my life.

Home away from home.

Written for @mayyoustay-foreveryoung as part of this event (feel feee to join in!) hope you like it lovely thank you for requesting!❤

Wordcount: 1142
Fluffy Negan x female oc with the following prompts:
“Do you trust me?”
“I read your diary.”

Tagging: @negans-network


It had been a long and hard day, but yet another victory for Negan and his saviors. Covered in blood and God only knows what else you were more than happy to be back at the outpost.

Negan himself had pitched in and helped to unload the trucks, having come along to ‘supervise’ the whole ordeal. It was just as well really. Walking along the corridor beside him, you couldn’t help but scoff at his pristine condition. It looked as though he hadn’t even lifted a finger. How he had managed to stay clean the entire time was a mystery but when you told him as much and his booming laugh echoed in the corridor, you couldn’t help but smile along.

You slowed to a halt outside your bedroom door, feeling rather content despite the ache in your bones from the day’s events. Negan had stopped too, leaning back, watching you carefully with a soft smile on his face.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

shit dude. It's about to get real for Lexa. I hope your brain is daisy-trippin' and plot-skippin' and gonna deliver another chapter...BAM!

I feel like things have been getting real for Lexa since she crash landed on the ground, just sayin’. 

But thank you for giving me the opportunity to read this very creatively-worded ask, it made me smile after a bleh kind of day. 

anonymous asked:

can't wait to hear more about your new novel. I love haker so much and except for maybe a couple of fans, MOST of us respect that you need to focus on other creative works :)

haha don’t worry, I don’t take it as disrespectful when people ask for more Haker. I spent two years alone in my head with Hannah & Baker, so it’s gratifying to hear from people who want to know more about them. I just can’t produce constant new material about them all the time. 

The new book is coming along well :) I’m on another round of re-writes, preparing it for one of my old friends who agreed to beta read it. (He actually used to beta read my Harry Potter fan fic when we were in college, so this feels pretty full-circle.) My sister and Haley also read drafts of it several months ago and gave me helpful feedback, so I’m working that in as well. I appreciate your encouragement! 

anonymous asked:

What other subtle hints are there that point to Mazume? PLS HALP I feel hopeless rooting for the cursed second lead. :'(

Ok anon, this is going to be a long post, be aware. From where should I begin?

  • Mamura and Suzume see together Suzume’s first real shooting star (not delusions), plus she learns Mamura’s name, Daiki, which means “the brightest” (chapter 22). 
  • Daichi ships them.
  • He ate the rice ball that was originally made for Shishio.
  • “I even showed Mamura my weak side” (actually he’s always making her leave her guards down). (chapter 38)
  • The moment she thought, her position in Mamura’s heart has changed and that she was just like the other girls for him.
  • “I think I’ll be the happiest person if you end up with Mamura-kun instead of other girls” Yuyuka ships them, YUYUKA who had feelings for Mamura. (chapter 41)
  • “All I wanted is a person who really understands me, accepts me for who I am, hits me when I’m wrong and sees me all the way” Yuyuka’s quote aka mangaka’s thoughts, which all along the manga actually mirrors Mamura’s actions and feelings for Suzume (apart from Togyuu’s towards Yuyuka). (chapter 42)
  • “It’s hard to believe that she was so sad yesterday” Suzume’s mother intuition and approval (another shipper there xD). (chapter 51)
  • “I’m sure Suzume will understand when she finds the right guy for her”. (chapter 54)
  • Kame ships them.
  • "Come to think of it, Mamura has always been there when I need him the most” she alone acknowledging Mamura. (chapter 54)
  • Mamura’s father ships them. (chapter 54)
  • The second love begins” and how she could not stop thinking of him after this.

(Read more under cut)

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Wonder Woman

Can someone explain why people have a problem with New 52 Wonder Woman? I am genuinely interested.

Pre-New 52 all I knew of Wonder Woman was that she was somehow on a level with Batman and Superman. Post-New 52 I now know she is a strong confident woman, loves everyone, is the Queen of the Amazons and the God of freaking War!

I couldn’t name a single Wonder Woman villain pre-new 52, now she has the entire pantheon of Greek mythology to play off. I understand that making Zeus Wonder Woman’s father was a big fundamental change for her, but does it affect her character or add another dimension to it?

Some complaints come with paring her with Clark, along the lines of turning her into nothing more than a supporting character to Superman. But if you actual read anything of their relationship, especially in Superman/Wonder Woman, you can see that it is Clark is the love sick puppy dog, riddled with insecurities and Diana is the confident one, if ever so slightly reluctant to open up about her feelings. Notice this is diametrically opposed to how these kind of relationships are usual portrayed.

5SOS Preference #51 (Demons)
Anonymous asked you:can you do a preference based on the song Demons- Imagine dragons <3

yo enjoy, ashton’s fucked me up so yeah

Michael:“When you feel my heat
Look into my eyes
It’s where my demons hide”
With your boyfriend Michael lately, all it’s been is fight upon head-splitting fight. It started with you yelling at him for getting home so late every night then Michael would yell at your for yelling at him all the time. It never ends. The only time there was bliss between you and him is the few hours after a fight, like the calm that follows a storm. You would both be out of breath, voices strained from shouting and running out of things to be mad about. All that would be left is the raw emotion, coating the room like wallpaper. It’s one night after a particular rough fight, sadly just about doing the dishes, that leaves you and Michael glaring at each other. “I hate when you make me feel like the villain, like I never make time for you anymore,” he says. “I hate when you call me names for getting mad about the little things, even though it’s because you’re missing them.” Michael watches your chest rise and fall quickly with your heavy angry breaths. “I hate that I still love you after all this shit.” You don’t even get a chance to speak, because Michael’s closed the distance between you in a rush of passion, clutching your jaw tight as his lips work yours. Minutes later, he’s plunging deep in you, the heat in the room only rising as you and him let out harmonious moans. Michael’s mouth is angrily on yours, and you pull away to gasp, “I’m there. I’m there.” “Look at me. Look right into my eyes. Don’t look away,” he orders and as you climax, all that you know is how good it feels to be looked at like that, like you’re the only thing he sees. And just for a second, all that fighting is worth it. Calum:“Will come calling out
At the mess you made”
“I can’t believe you did this!!” You flinch as your husband takes a swing at the lamp and sends it crashing to the floor, the sound continuing to ring in your head. “We have a kid together! And that still wasn’t enough for you!!” You’ve never heard Calum’s voice this loud. “I’m sorry! You’d been away with the band and you haven’t touched me in weeks!” You both stand in the living room, only the couch acting as a barrier between the back-and-forth onslaught. “You were asleep every fucking time I came home! And that does not give you the right to go and fuck someone else! Especially my trainer!!” You can’t take this. This is not what you want. You slump into the nearest armchair and hide your tear-stained face in your hands. “Don’t sit there and cry and feel sorry for yourself!” Calum continues to yell. You can tell he’s gotten closer without looking up by how his voice sounds and the creak of the hardwood floor beneath the carpet, barely noticeable over his booming voice. “Fine!” You explode, rising from the chair in one swift movement. “Go ahead and have yourself a pity party, rather than talking to me rationally and working this out! All you do is yell and yell and yell at me and nothing ever gets fixed! This is madness!” You two almost mirror each other, with your arms flailing and hair falling in your eyes. “No, you know what’s madness?!?” You can’t wait to hear what comes from his mouth next–how much of a whore you are, how crazy you are for wanting to be loved by your husband, how it’s madness that you get upset when he’s away all the time, but you could never guess what he’d say next. “What’s madness is the day I put this on my finger!” He pulls his wedding band off his finger, and makes a big show of chucking it across the room, where you hear the gold metal clink on the kitchen floor. “Well that’s it then,” you say at a normal volume. And never did you know that two simple words could bring your whole world crashing down on you like a tidal wave, at least not until he says, “About time.” Luke:“Don’t wanna let you down
But I am hell bound”
You’ve got a few hours of peace while your boyfriend is away at band practice. Being the shit human being you are, you spend it swallowing a handful of Percocets leftover in your bathroom cabinet. The round white pills are scattered on the counter. You hate yourself every time they go down your throat, but drugs have always provided that shoulder you’ve needed during your darkest days. Not to mention, you’d know how much this would hurt Luke if he knew. So you never took them when he was home, never let the side effects seep into that part of your life. Luke is the last person you ever want to disappoint. When you finally feel the haze of the drugs setting in, you crawl back into bed. What seems like days later to you, you hear the distant sound of the front door slamming and a “hey (y/n)!” You begin to panic knowing that the effects of the Oxycodone is just now fully taking hold, but it’s nearly impossible when all you can comprehend is the blissful wave of depression masked as euphoria pulling you away from shore, and the sheets become the welcoming arms of the ocean. “(y/n)? (y/n)!” luke’s voice barely reaches you though he stands at the bedside table. You prop yourself up, and watch as he shakes the bottle of Percocet at you. “Have you taken theses?” You don’t have to reply for him to know your answer. It’s like watching from the sidelines as he shouts at you. “What are you doing?! So stupid!” You watch as the pills fly loose from the bottle, falling to the bed and floor like miniature exposives, blowing bits of my life across the walls like shrapnel laced with blood. Luke finally stops shouting and just slides into bed next to you, wrapping his arms around you. “I wish I knew why.” You’ve sobered up enough to whisper, “Me too.” Ashton:“At the curtain’s call
It’s the last of all”
“We can never thank you guys enough for all the support you’ve given us over the years. You were our family at the start, and you’ll be our family even though the instruments will get a bit dusty. We’ve got one last song to play you before you say goodbye. This is Wherever You Are.” You sit backstage with your four restless kids, the sounds of the song echoing back to you and the familiar thump of the bass in your heart for the last time for a while. They get through the song, the four teenage Aussie punk rock wannabees who have become life-long friends, especially one that you professed your friendship to at an alter in a white dress and veil. The song finally ends, and you can feel the sadness and nostalgia that radiates from the crowd–after all, you used to be in that crowd. You’re snapped out of your teenage reveries when Ashton, Calum, Luke and Michael jog backstage, dripping sweat more profusely now that they’re a bit older. Ashton immediately comes over to you, and picks up your smallest child before greeting you with a smooch. “Great job as always,” you smile and pat him bum for good measures. He returns your smile then wipes then sweat away from his eyes, along with his damp curls. “You have no idea how glad I’ve got you waiting for me when I come off that stage.” The smile is still on his lips, but you can read the sincerity in his honey eyes. “I’ll be here for you now more than ever.” He leans in again to share another kiss, though it’s slower and more passionate, because it contains the feelings from years of being by his side through dozens of interviews, scandals, and shows. “You haven’t seen the last of these sticks,” Ashton grins when he breaks away from you, waving his drum sticks. “I’ve still got four little rockers to teach.” And as you leave the stadium with your family, you just think of how glad you are that you picked the right band.
The Adoption!Verse makes a rookie mistake

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 |Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14AO3 }

Anonymous said:

Adoption!verse: Bae wants to see one of the huge fireworks displays out of to town on the Fourth. Somewhere like Washington DC or Philadelphia.

accio-firewhiskey said:

Also, here’s an idea, have you considered Belle trying to meet up with an old friend in NYC while Bae and Gold do their own thing for an afternoon?

Still taking prompts!  This is the chapter where I make canon that Belle is demisexual (ish).  I hadn’t actually included that in her original characterization, but frankly I wasn’t able to plan a whole lot of characterization because this verse kind of snuck up on me, and the more I thought about her love life in the past the more sense this made.  She wouldn’t identify as such, but that’s because I highly doubt she’s heard the term before.  As far as she’s concerned, she’s a heterosexual who just doesn’t “need” to have sex that much and had to spend a lot of time raising her kid.

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