biking t shirt

Connect Call

Originally posted by oreilysamcro

Originally posted by painfulblisss

Request: Happy Imagine where you are childhood friends but you haven’t heard from Happy for years until you get a phone call from him in prison.

Type in bold is flashbacks.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

High School Graduation. You had made it, despite all odds, you had finished high school. You stood in front of the mirror and stared at your reflection and took a deep breath. Today was the first day of the rest of your life. The graduation ceremony started in two hours and after that, you were free. Free from the shitty hallways and shitty classrooms. Free from the shitty teachers and your god-awful classmates.
The roar of the motorcycle pulling up outside bought you back to reality and you grinned before running outside.
He stood leaning against his bike, his black t-shirt clinging to his sculpted body.
“Happy!” You yelled as you ran towards your best friend.
He grinned at moved towards you and you leapt into his arms.
He twirled you around, with of your hugging each tight on the front lawn of your house.
Happy was your best friend. You had grown up together and you had spent every afternoon together, getting high down by the river or getting drunk and getting shitty tattooed and hiding them from your parents. He had dropped out of school last year, when his mom got sick the first time. And despite seeing him everyday after school you would spend all day in your classes dreaming about him.
You were madly in love with him, of course. How could you not be. He was loyal and caring. He had a good heart and he could make you laugh harder than anyone else. He didn’t talk much, to others. But sometimes you could barely shut him up. You dreamed of a life with him, despite what your parents thought, and despite knowing he didn’t feel the same way. You were like a sister to him, and it broke your heart silently every time you thought about it.
“Hey pumpkin.” He grinned at you and you rolled your eyes.
He had been calling you that for two years, ever since you’d gotten high with him at the river then gone home, eaten the whole pumpkin pie, and threw up all over your moms thanksgiving dinner.
That was the first time your parents banned you from seeing Happy, but you had rebelled against them, and they knew better than to try stop it these days.
“You ready?” He asked you, an eyebrow raised and a smirk on his face.
You tilted your head and looked at him questioningly.
“How mad do you think your parents will be if you arrive at graduation on the back of my bike?” He asked you, his smirk turning into a full blown grin.
You laughed and nodded. “Lets go Hap.”

“Clean up on aisle two.”
You sighed as you stacked the last can on the shelf. You had ten minutes left of your shift and it was just typical that there would be a spill just before you finished.
You walked to the cleaning closet and pulled out the mop and bucket and pushed them in front of you as you walked to Aisle Two.
You looked at the open can of soda on the floor and the fizzy puddle surrounding it and swept the hair out of your face as you began pushing the mop around.
You hummed along to the music as you mopped.
Once you’d finished you walked back to the closet and poured the soda in your bucket into the basin.
You watched it pour down the drain, and couldn’t help but think the soda was a metaphor for your life.
You’d been working at the grocery store  for four years now, and you knew you were wasting your life.
You used to have such big dreams for your future, for your life.
You wanted to travel the world, have a family and make a name for yourself.
But that had all turned to shit years ago.
You rubbed the wedding ring on your finger for comfort and leant against the wall.
The smell of bleach filled your lungs and you closed your eyes, wishing that you could just disappear.
37. You were 37 years old and widowed. You had no kids, no friends, you worked in a grocery store, earning just enough money to pay the rent in your one bedroom apartment and keep yourself alive. Living the dream, you thought sarcastically.


You scanned the room, eyeing the men clad in leather and the topless girls.
ACDC blasted through the speakers and the scent of weed and pussy swirled around you.
“Lookin for me, gorgeous?” A voice slurred and an arm draped over your shoulder and the breath filled with alcohol was hot on your air.
You shrugged the arm off you and glared at the man.
“In your dreams.” You said with an icy stare.
The man shrugged and walked away, leaving you standing alone in the doorway of the Sons Of Anarchy Tacoma charters clubhouse.
You looked towards the back of the room and finally spotted him.
It felt like acid poured through your veins, or knives ripping through your body.
There he sat, your best friend, Happy Lowman, with a topless red head in his lap, grinding into him.
You fought back tears and swallowed before waking towards him.
You cleared your throat as you stood at the end of the couch but he didn’t even look up.
You fumbled with your hands awkwardly before clearing your throat again.
This time he heard you and he glanced up at you.
“Hey pumpkin, you came!” He smiled at you and the sight of his smile almost made you forget the whore in his lap. Almost.
“Happy birthday, Lowman.” You said, trying to sound normal.
He smiled at you.
“Can you come outside? I have something for you.” You said and rubbed your neck awkwardly.
Happy hesitated and looked at the girl in his lap.
“Maybe later pumpkin?” He asked awkwardly.
Your heart sunk and you nodded slowly as four burly men came over and crowded you.
His attention went to them and you slipped outside without him noticing.
You ran to your car and jumped in before pulling out of the lot.
Tears streamed down your face as you drove home and you felt empty, knowing that you’d left your heart on the cum stained floor of that clubhouse.


Beep-beep-beep.
You stood and walked to the kitchen, the smell of instant macaroni filling the room.
You walked to the microwave and opened the door,and reached into grab the tray.
Ever since your husband had died six years ago you had been practically living off frozen microwave meals. You had never been good at cooking and your husband Tom had cooked every night. You were married for two years before he died, an innocent victim of a drunk driving accident. You’d never forget that phone call. You had been sitting on the toilet, a pregnancy test in your hands, tears of joy streaming down your face as you looked at the two pink lines.
The phone had rung and you’d practically ran to the phone, hoping it was your husband on the line.
But it wasn’t Tom, it was the hospital. You didn’t remember driving to the hospital, and you didn’t remember getting the car.
All you remembered was the two police officers with solemn faces, standing outside the emergency room. They told you that your husband had died and you had fallen to your knees, sobbing on the floor of the hospital.
You loved him, you knew you did. But you were always filled with guilt knowing that you loved someone else more.
Things had never been the same between you and Happy after that night. He was always busy with the club he had joined and you were busy working your ass off to get enough money to get the whole out of that place.
You used to spend every minute together but then you’d go weeks without speaking, and you both knew you were drifting apart.
Some friendships just seemed to have an expirary date, and for you, it was Happy Lowman’s 19th birthday.
You had almost fallen asleep on the couch when the phone rung.
You groaned as you stood, wiping your eyes and waked across the room to the phone.
It was probably work, wanting you to come in on your day off or someting.
You answered the phone and pressed it to your ear as you stifled a yawn.
“This is a collect call from Stockton State Penitentiary. Inmate Happy Lowman is trying to contact you. Dial 1 to accept the call. Dial 2 to decline, or hang up.”
You froze, the phone pressed tightly to your ear.
The message repeated itself and with shaky hands you lowered the phone and pressed 1.
You heard a click as the line was connected and your heart almost beat out of your chest.
The familiar raspy voice sent shivers down your spine.
“Hey pumpkin.”

There will be a part 2 😘

May 19th

Ah, my first WWE fanfic! This fic is dedicated to @sweetiefiend and @autumn-feels , who have heard me scream about these two characters for a long time. I was inspired to write this because of @missabigailwyatt and her Sister Abigail fics. Thank you and enjoy the show!

“Here’s to another year of not bein’ dead.”

“Ya said it, Meg.”

Meg and Jack were out on the back porch of the Calaway house, Jack holding a glass of some cheap, foreign beer, while Meg prefered a simple can of soda. Small plastic plates of puttanesca, now become a long-standing Calaway family tradition, sat in their laps, half finished. Meg’s hair was undone, her clothing fresh from fixing her bike, purple t-shirt smothered in grease and black cargos even worse for wear, her brown boots were scuffed. The only item that wasn’t damaged or imperfect was the black fingerless gloves on her hands, freshly cleaned as they were the present her father gave her.

Jack looked relatively ‘normal’ in comparison, wearing a sleeveless tank top and blue jeans, slightly distressed and damaged. He was barefoot, unable to survive the summer heat in shoes and socks. Dad always told him how ‘wild’ he looked, how much Jack reminded him of their Uncle Kane. Jack could care less, though. His uncle was the reason he and his sister were outside right now.

“How d’ya think Uncle Kane is goin’?”

Meg sniffed. “Not well. His folks died Jack, ya think he’s goin’ well?”

“Nah,” Jack shot her a killer grin, “Pa never tells us ‘bout Granpa and Gramma Calaway. Always keeps them a secret, I guess.”

“Well, I would to, yknow? Since dad kinda was… ‘sponsible for their death.”

“He was?”

“Duh!” Meg slipped into a mimic of the California valley girl accent she’d been raised around, chuckling slightly as she fell back to her normal one. “Did ya hear? Dad was playin’ wi’ matches, ‘ccidently dropped one. Touched the carpet-”

She mimed a fireball using her hands, which would have been comical if not for the subject matter.

“House caught fiyer,” She sighed, a bit out of breath from explaining the whole thing.

“Wow, I didn’t liddle pa was so… Hot-headed.”

“Jack,” Meg’s face contorted into a thin line, her voice growing stern. “This ain’t a joke. Dad… Dad still feels guilty ‘bout the whole thing. He don’t like talkin’ about it much. When Uncle Kane comes over-”

“They need time to grieve, I geddit.” Jack huffed. “If only it didn’t hit our birthdays.”

“Ya said it.”
Meg took a sip of her soda, as Jack sculled his beer. He wiped it off his face, and turned to Meg.

“Ged any advice from good ol’ Uncle Austin lately?”

“Nah,” Meg shook her head, “I’ve been hangin’ with the Hardy’s recently. Behind Dad’s back, of course.”

She smirked a bit at her under wrap’s endeavors.

Jack chuckled, “Yea, I would’ve seen ya as the Hardy type. A ‘spot monkey’ they call it.”

“Jeff works hard!” Meg exclaimed, her voice twinged with anger, “Besides, ya aren’t clean either. I know of yer exploits with Foley.”

Jack smirked. “I know, I’m not good at hidin’ it.”

“How many thumbtacks ya’ll get stuck in your ass recently?”

“Shuddup, Meg, that was one time!”

The pair started laughing. It seemed, oddly discontented for the scenario. The back porch door opened. Standing at the door was Michelle McCool, Jack and Meg’s stepmother.

“Hey, ma.” Meg greeted, Jack beamed at her as Michelle shook her head.

“Your dad wants to see you.”

“Actually, ma,” Meg began, standing up and dusting her oil-stained pants off, “Jack and I wanted to talk to him ‘bout somethin’.”

“Yeah!” Jack agreed, standing up. He too dusted his pants off, and wiped what he thought was excess beer off his face. Michelle chuckled.

“He’s at the table with Kane.” She smiled, opening the door. “Come in, you two.”

The pair walked in, Meg giving her mother a small ‘flawless’ hand gesture, which Michelle repeated with a smile. As they walked in, they saw Kane, staring over his unfinished meal. At the other end of the table was their father, looking at them in slight contempt. He gestured to Kane, who stood, nodded a head and grunted in greeting (or farewell, neither twin was sure which) and left out the front door. Jack smiled and waved.

“Hey, pa,” He began, “‘Sup?”

“Yer mom and I decided to have a talk.”

“‘Bout what?”

Meg nudged Jack. “Don’t make him start…”

“Kids, we’ve decided on somethin’.”

“Yeah,” Meg began, her voice quiet but firm. “We wanted to talk ‘bout somethin’ first.”

“Shoot.”

Meg sighed. “Now, I know you’re gonna kill us, but… Jack and I have decided that, startin’ next month. We’re… We’re gonna sign with NXT.”

Silence.

“What?”

“I-I said,” Meg began, slightly louder this time, “Jack and I will sign with the WWE for NXT.”

“I know what ya said, Meg-”

“Mark, please,” Michelle breathed, “Calm down.”

Before she turned back to the pair with a million dollar smile. “I think that’s wonderful, sweetie!”

“Chell,” Their dad turned to Michelle with a frown. “What about Vince? Ya know what he does to young talent.”

“He got you over.”

He shrugged, before turning back to Meg. “Fine, ya’ll can join NXT-”

Meg and Jack’s faces lit up. Undertaker raised a finger.

“But,” He began, in a stern tone, “Ya’ll must not bring me up to anyone on the roster. Unless it’s important. I’ll tell you when to mention me.”

Jack’s smile faded to a pout. “Fine.”

Meg however, appeared overjoyed. “That’s great! It means no one will see me as the ‘deadman’s daughter’ or whatever! I’ll get to be ma own person!”

Jack looked over at her, his smile growing seeing his sister so happy.

“So, do ya’ll accept?”

The pair nodded.

“So, what did ya wanna tell us?”

It was Michelle’s turn to smile. Warmly and sweetly.

“Well, your dad and I may have worked out about your… Private wrestling lives.” She opened, turning to two boxes behind her and picking one of them up. “So, we decided to give you these. And they seem more appropriate for the long-haul.”

Meg got her box, wrapped in dark purple wrapping paper marked with her father’s symbol. She ripped it open and stared in awe. There was a pair of genuine wrestling tights, dark black and marked with a purple stripe down the side. Meg’s eyes widened when she noticed alongside it was a matching bralette, purple with black straps. After she pulled the items out, she noticed a pair of shiny new leather boots, jet black aside from purple text on the sides that read ‘Flawless’. She made a small squeal in delight as Michelle handed Jack his box.

Jack too ripped the wrapping paper off, opening the box and placing it down on the table. He stopped and stared at the item in the box. It was a pair of wrestling trunks, also black, but instead with three dark blue stripes along the left side. Another pair of trunks with a similar pattern in purple followed. Under them were also a pair of boots, jet black with ‘Callous’ written in dark blue on the sides. Jack couldn’t believe his eyes. He smiled at his mother.

“It was your father’s idea.”

He nodded in response, as Jack looked over at the overjoyed Meg. Meg bounced on her toes and laughed.

“Happy birthday, kids.”

“Thanks dad,” Jack nodded, “Thank you so much.”

Hello Memories (4)

one two three four

     "Please give it to Sunghwa when you meet him tonight.“ Gray’s mom asked you a favor. She handed you big shopping bag which contain of some new clothes that she bought for Gray on the store today. You held it on your left hand while your other hand opened a taxi’s door for her.

     “Thank you for today, y/n. Come home with Sunghwa when you guys have free time, okay?” she exclaimed in cheerful tone once she climbed on taxi.

     “Okay, mom. Have a safe trip.” You bowed and helped her close the door.


      You lost your appetite on your dinner after Gray and his beautiful companion left. Your favorite meal wasn’t taste delicious as it supposed to be, and it’s all on Gray’s fault. Well, not really.. you couldn’t blame on him, it was just coincidence.

      “Now what am I going to do with this thing?” you asked yourself when you looked down on the shopping bag which Gray’s mom told you to give to her beloved son tonight.

      See you tonight..
      What did he mean?
      And why am I still doing this?
      Eish!

      You wanted to beat yourself for your stupidity. Because of your great talent as a liar, Gray’s mom believes that you and Gray will spend the night together. And now you have no choice except dropped this thing to his place and made an agreement to stop put in act in front of his mom that both of you are still dating.

       That’s what you planned and you need to make it true. It’s gonna be hard but as the time passed by everything would be alright. Even though Gray’s mom would be angry and disappointed, at the end she will understand the reason why you are doing this.

       “Let’s just end it tonight.” You whispered to yourself before you drove off to AOMG building. You chose to go to his office instead of his apartment. It’s because you scared if you went to his apartment and turned out finding him with that girl, you wanted to save your heart from bleeding. You won’t get tore by his romantic scene with another girl. Your goal was only give his things from his mom and made everything clear so that you and him could happily separated and being honest to his mom. That’s it, that’s the only thing you wanted from him.  

Keep reading