As The French Would Say [a Sebastian Smythe imagine]
a/n: i just thought of this……
Window seats are great. You always took a seat by the window in Mr. Shue’s class. Today has been an off day for you. You can’t wait until glee practice; only eight more minutes. Glee practice is the only thing that honestly calms you down.
Peeking outside, a familiar cherry red Mustang pulls into a parking lot; your face lights up and you lift your cheek off of the palm of your hand. The door cracks open; a pair of brown boat shoes step out and Sebastian stands up, fixing the strap of his messenger bag against his pale tan sweater. After he shuts the car door, he slides his black Ray Ban sunglasses to his shiny brown locks, squinting his mossy green eyes and scrunching his pale nose. You cage a giggle, craning your neck to watch him walk towards the school.
Ticking, the clock shows there’s three more minutes of school. You put your books in you star themed baby blue backpack, hoisting the black straps over your gray elephant pattern tank top, standing up at the sound of the bell.
Zooming through the hall, past all the students, you smile brightly at the sight of the tall Warbler. He glares, arms crossed over his chest, sweater to his elbows, as Artie rolls by. “Sebby!” you beam, galaxy Vans squeaking when you stop in front of him. “You came!” Your fingers curl around your backpack straps tightly.
“Well duh.” Sebastian scoffs, rolling his eyes; a strand of his hair pokes through the indent of his sunglasses, dangling in between his thick eyebrows. Letting go of his bag, he takes your hand, curling his long fingers around the back. “What kind of boyfriend do you take me for?” he grumbles, smirking when you shrug. “I was in Paris for a month, Y/N. And you know what Paris doesn’t have? You.” he sighs deeply.
You stop, spinning to face him. Pushing yourself up on your toes, you peck the tip of his nose, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Well, you’re back. And I missed you a lot, Bas.” you grin, kissing his soft lips.
Smirking, he tilts his head, allowing for a better angle. “Missed you, mon bébé.” Sebastian mutters, holding your waist. “Gotcha something too…” he digs into his bag, “Saw it and thought, ‘mon poupée would adore this’. So, obviously, I bought it.” He pulls out a box dramatically, causing you to giggle, and pops it open. “Tada. If I have to explain what the ’S’ is for…” he deadpans, chuckling slightly at hour shocked face.
“Sebastian… This must’ve cost you a fortune!” you gasp, picking up the diamond embedded necklace.
He shrugs, snapping the box shut. “Yeah. It did. But, eh.” he smiles, taking the necklace from you. Slowly, he wraps it around your neck, clasping it. “Now everyone knows you’re mine.” he purrs, smirking.
There’s a quiet breath of air from you before you kiss him. “Now I have this and…” You grab your backpack, jangling the small Warbler clip. Sebastian snorts. “I better get to practice. I’ll see you after and you can drive me home. I love you!” you hum, pecking his pinkish cheek.
“Love you too, mon amour.” the brunette whispers, kissing your nose. “Make sure to rub it in Lady Hummel’s face.” he smirks; you roll your eyes, strutting away. “I’ll be waiting.” he winks. Damn Sebastian and his bilingual tongue.
“So are gonna explain to me what that was back there?” I whisper, trying to distance myself from Cindy’s nosy ears as we make our way to the parking lot.
“The guy seemed like a creep, I figured you’d rather hang out with all o’ us. It’s not too late though, I’m sure I can flag down that Alex kid. Sure he’d come runnin’.” He says, stopping to look around, finding him in a crowd behind us and waving at him. I slap his arm, running to catch up with Daniel and Cindy. He follows suit, chuckling to himself. We start heading for Daniel’s cherry red mustang when Harold taps on my shoulder, a helmet in hand.
“By the way, this is my ride.” He says, climbing onto a black motorcycle.
“Oh no, that isn’t happening,” I state, shooing away the helmet.
“You gotta make it believable.” He points behind me, once again waving at Alex who was visibly pissed off. I weigh my options, I could ride with Alex, and I’d be stuck with talking to him the whole party– I could try running after Daniel and Cindy before they leave the parking lot, or I could die via motorcycle.
Somehow, dying seemed like the better option. I threw on the helmet as I climbed onto the space behind him, gripping onto the end of his denim jacket.
“You’ve never ridden on one o’ these, ‘ave you?” he asks, grabbing my wrists, wrapping them around his waist, “wouldn’t want ya fallin’ off.” With that he revs up his engine, sending us flying down the parking lot trying to catch up to Daniel.
We park right behind the mustang, people already flowing in and out of Alex Lanning’s front door. Billie Jean was blasting as we make our way inside, several hello’s and curious glances thrown our way. Daniel is at the front of our group, leading us to the backyard where a huge fire pit and pool were situated. Half naked teens are comfortably flirting and eating smores while grabbing a few beers along the way.
“You guys bring your swim trunks?” Daniel asks, already throwing his shirt at Harold. Cindy does the same, stripping off her cheer uniform, revealing a hot pink one-piece underneath.
“ ‘fraid not, didn’t know that guy was so well off.” he says, gesturing at the lavish home he was welcomed into.
“You could just wear your boxers! That’s what everyone else seems to be doing!” Cindy suggests, winking at me when Harold deviates his gaze.
“I’ll ‘ave to sit this one out I suppose.” he apologizes, giving her puppy dog eyes that no one could turn down. Her cheeks turn bright pink as she hurries off to the pool. Daniel simply shakes his head at him, following after Cindy. I hadn’t really noticed how much attention Harold was getting until I tuned back into the whispers and glances. He’s so hot, who do you think he is? I don’t know, but I’ll be sure to find out.
“Are you joinin’ them?” He asks, almost daring me to do something edgy.
“I don’t have a bathing suit,” I state, walking over to the bonfire. I grab a stick, impaling a marshmallow, sticking it close to the fire. He follows me over, grabbing the graham crackers and chocolate, handing me some to make own.
“You don’t seem the type t’ come t’ these things very often.” He states, blowing at his marshmallow as it catches on fire.
“And what makes you say that?” I question, for some reason a bit more offended than I should be.
“You’re obviously a teacher’s pet. Preppy, do-good girl. Can’t imagine you doin’ anythin’ that could get ya in trouble, ya know? You had never even ridden a bike” How could he so easily make these assumptions? We’ve just barely met and he already thinks he’s got me figured out. Just because I have school spirit and good grades doesn’t mean I don’t know how to have fun. How can this guy get me so worked up so quickly?
Amanda Williams– the head cheerleader pops out of nowhere. She wraps her blood red nails around Harold’s shoulder, using it to sit herself down on his lap. She had noticeably had a bit too much to drink, along with being a little damp from being in the pool a second ago in just her bra and underwear.
“So what’s your name, handsome?” She says, getting whistles and encouragement from a few party goers. Harold looks a bit startled to say the least, but that just left me seeing red.
I immediately stand up to leave, Harold looking up to give me a confused look, trying to kindly get her off of him without touching her.
“Oh, don’t worry about me, I’ll catch a ride with Danny and Cindy, you seem to have your hands full anyway,” I say, turning my back at him as I pull my sweater over my head, kicking my keds off as I let my skirt drop to the ground. Whistles and hollers begin as people notice me walking towards the pool, making sure my hips sway a little more than usual, chin high– wanting to fool people that I wasn’t completely uncomfortable with the shortage of clothing.
Cindy is immediately at my side, gushing at how I showed Amanda who’s number one around here. I really had no idea what had come over me, but as I looked back at Harold, a smirk was plastered on his face, impressed.
I look over at Harold, a crowd already gathering around him, mostly the baseball team and their groupies. Girls giggled at his every word, guys slightly annoyed at the attention he stole from their usual fans. I was sat at the edge of the pool, legs dipped in as Alex found his way to my side once more.
“Finally loosening up I see.” he grins, his eyes wandering for a bit too long. I immediately cross my arms over my chest, getting up to grab a drink. He follows me over, leaning against the grill, refusing to leave me alone. “So what’s with that Harry guy? You two seem close” he observes.
“I gave him a tour of the school, he knows Danny somehow.” I shrug, my usual friend group consisting of him and Cindy, them usually making me feel like the third wheel even though Cindy swears she only sees him as a friend.
“Seems like he doesn’t know I’ve claimed you as my girl.” Alex smiles, the scent alcohol seeping from his lips as he leans in close, almost kissing me. I set back, and before I can give him an earful I feel a heaviness on my shoulders, a hand pulling me back slightly.
“You seem like you’ve ‘ad one too many to drink, Alex. I’m sure you’d never take advantage of a girl if you were in the right state of mind, especially in front of everyone?” Harold looks around at the party that had quieted down to eavesdrop, “ ‘cause if that were t’ happen, I’d have t’ kill ya myself.” he smiles, almost as if he wanted Alex to take him up on the offer.
Danny is immediately at my side, grabbing Alex to calm him down before he did something rash. I hadn’t even noticed my hands had made their way up to his arm, pulling him away from the brawl that had almost ensued.
“So you’re gonna fuck this guy but not me, Heather?” Alex yells from behind Danny, pushing him to the side. My grip on Harold slipped immediately, his powerful fist slamming against Alex’s face. The crowd was thrilled, the first fight of the year and it involved the captain of the football team and the mysterious new kid. Alex tackles Harold to the ground, a fist immediately landing on his cheek. Harold grabs a fist full of Alex’s hair, slamming his head against the pavement. By then Danny and three other guys pulled them apart, blood leaving a stain by the pool.
Cindy was by my side, grabbing my arm running to Harold. Danny is already dragging him out of the fence door. Cindy and I hurriedly throw on our clothes, still in shock from what had just happened. As we walk towards the bike and Mustang, Danny bursts out laughing, shaking his head and patting Harold on the back.
“Man, if you hadn’t kicked his ass I would’ve, thanks for taking one for the team.” he beams, leaning up against the hood of his car. With that the tension is broken, chuckles and giggles overtaking all of us.
“Gonna be a fun year,” Harold states, licking his lips, revealing a toothy grin.
Hello again! I hope you’re enjoying this one, I’m still unsure of the dynamic I want Harry and Heather to have, but I guess we’ll find out! I’m still getting used to writing again, hopefully I’ll get better soon. Please leave me criticism and questions, I’d love to talk to you guys! Until next time!
But because I miss my bad boy Au just think of how fucking extra Taehyung would be if or some reason Yoongi’s parents stopped him from seeing their son. Like maybe before their relationship gets really serious they worry that Taehyung may be a bit of a distraction or bad example so they force Yoongi to stop seeing Taehyung. You all know Taehyung would not have it at all.
I can already see this boy pulling up to the front of Yoongi’s house at like four in the morning with his radio blasting as loud as it can while he climbs out to sit on the hood of it with a smirk on his face. Of course, Yoongi and his parents wake up from the noise. The elder is the first one to open his window and his heart seriously feels like it’s skipping beats and flipping in his chest as he takes in Taehyung =, on top of his cherry red Mustang, with his matching messy red hair and bandanna tied around his forehead while he’s in ripped skinny jean and a muscle shirt that shows off all his tattoos. Taehyung just looks like Yoongi’s rebel knight fighting for their relationship he’s legit swooning when his parents finally appear outside with angry looks on their faces.
“WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING!”
Yoongi’s eyes widen as it’s the first time he really hears his father cuss but Taehyung looks completely unbothered as he sighs and hops off the hood of his car to stand face to face with the angry man.
“I think I’m here to let you know this is going to happen every night until you understand I love your son and am not leaving him.”
Taehyung just sounds so fucking sure of himself and his love for Yoongi it’s so much but in all the good ways.
The Min’s have no choice but to let Taehyung inside to see Yoongi when their neighbors begin opening their door and looking outside with confusion all over their face. Taehyung just sprints right past everyone and up the stairs to hold Yoongi’s cheek’s between his palms while he presses their lips together in a deep kiss because he’s just missed his boy so fucking much.
Samael the archangel is a possessive bastard. Even more so when Gabriel is injured on a hunt.
HOLY SHIT! This fic is hot in so many ways I can’t even list them all. Wing Kink Plus Reverse Verse Plus Possessive! Sam? Sign me the hell up! I need more of this verse like yesterday. Incredible read! - Lauren
Angel!Sam and Hunter!Gabriel is a verse that I absolutely am obsessed with! Mix that in with possessive Sam, wing!kink, and sex, and I am in love. Great fic to read after a long day in my dorm. Love it! - Gisselle
Oh wow this was super hot! I loved possessive angel Sam and him being so protective over Gabriel. Plus, I can definitely see Gabriel driving a cherry red Mustang. So so amazing! - Patty
Gabriel, as a hunter, would need a sexy car and the cherry Mustang is perfect! The romance in the car is a bonus, I am especially a sucker for angel Sam being possessive over what’s his.
"MC, are you sure
it isn’t what I think it is? I mean, can we do that anyway? We don’t even have
to wait until the party’s over, I’ll be quiet, there’s no one in our bedroom
and we can-“
I told you no… maybe later,” you said, throwing a wink back at him,
watching as his face turns as red as his hair and he gives you his childish
that a promise?“ he asked, you laughed and shook your head in response,
dragging him to the garage where all of his babies resided.
and center was the brand new, cherry red Mustang convertible that he’s been eyeing
since the day he hacked into the company’s files to find the concept sketches.
this is… I’ve wanted this for… wow I just… I can’t speak,” he choked
out, wiping away tears as soon as they show up, trying to keep his voice even.
“Look at it, it’s almost as beautiful as you!” he exclaimed, running
over and placing a light kiss on the hood of the car. You watched as he ran a loving
hand along the metal as he circled it, checking out every little detail that
made it beautiful.
you drew out, rocking back and forth on your heels, "Do you like it?”
I- MC of COURSE I like it! In fact I absolutely love it,“ he shouted,
running up and putting his hands on the side of your face lightly, planting a
small kiss to your forehead, "And I love you. I can’t believe you
could I not remember?“ you thought back to the multitudes of nights you’d
find him looking at the concepts, clicking out of them faster than he would
click out of porn. Not to mention all of the small little hints he would drop
about "How nice the car is” or “How he wishes he could have
one”. Then there were all of the post-it notes about its every detail
strung about the house…. “I couldn’t just forget about something like
absolutely amazing, babe!“ he cheered, jumping into the driver’s seat,
running his hands over the wheel. "Come on, get in, get in! We can go for
a drive, test this baby out!”
you think we should get back to the party? Considering you’re one of the
birthday boys?“ you asked raising an eyebrow, eyeing the car skeptically.
no, it’ll be fine! They won’t even know we were gone! And if they do happen to
notice, we can just say we were having some alone time,” he wiggled his
eyebrows suggestively towards you, watching you throw your head back in
laughter before getting into the passenger seat.
okay, fine. But only for a little drive! It’s rude to walk out on your own
party like this, you know,“ you started as he dismissed the idea with a
wave of his hand.
mom I understand, only a little
drive. Let’s see how smooth this baby is!” he started the car and listened
to it purr a moment before taking off out of the garage, speeding down the dark
and empty road.
not-so-little-drive was amazing. Top down, wind in your hair- full of shitty
jokes and singing along terribly to the radio- all of which remind the both of
you how much you just generally love each other. Somewhere along the road, he
realized he didn’t want to go back to the party. He appreciated all of the work
you put into it, but he couldn’t bring himself to turn around and take you back
there- he wanted to live in this moment for as long as possible. And that was
what he was going to do- he drove up to your guy’s favourite spot in the
mountains to star gaze, you shot him a confused look before he put the car in
you think we’ve been gone long enough? I’m pretty sure I said we should take a
short drive,“ you started,
looking up at the familiar stars, "but I suppose the view can make up for
it.” He tried to enjoy the stars, but he couldn’t help but find himself
constantly looking back towards you- studying the way the moonlight bounced off
of your features. He couldn’t stop himself from placing a hand on your cheek,
turning your face towards him as he leaned into you, placing a soft kiss on
your lips. You smiled against his lips and let out a light-hearted giggle,
“What was that for?”
‘cause you’re amazing. And as a thank you for my new baby. Not to mention, the
fact that you even put a birthday party together for me and Saeran,“ he
pulled you closer to his chest and kissed the top of your head, "I don’t
know how to say thank you- it was our first party and it was amazing.”
raised an eyebrow, “how would you know it was that good, though? We left
early, remember?” His laughter rumbled in his chest for a moment before
you felt him shrug.
I get to spend time with you, and you organized the party, so it’s sort of the
same thing if you completely ignore that it’s not,“ he reasoned, smiling
at how hard you laugh in response.
yeah, okay. That makes complete sense, I’ll accept it,” you agreed,
looking over at him before running a hand through his hair. You close your eyes
as he laid a kiss between them.
love you, MC. I can’t imagine a better way to spend my birthday than up here
with you. Let’s do this again next year,“ he pulled you as close as he
possibly could without having you get uncomfortable from the middle console,
you hum in agreement.
know, if we’re going to be gone for this long anyway, we could always… you
know…” you suggested, shimmying your shoulders slightly. The blush
started to creep up his face as a large, goofy grin graced his features. You
watched as he quickly scrambled over the driver’s seat to the back, mumbling
small curses when his foot got stuck in the wheel. The was no holding back your
laughter as you watched him struggle in his excitement before you carefully crawled over your seat to join
him- the party a distant memory by the time the two of you were finished
Prompt: Sodapop ends up going on a date with the one girl he never thought he would.
Pairing: Sodapop Curtis x Fem!Reader
Fandom: The Outsiders
A/N: Okay, I know this wasn’t requested but I watched the movie adaptation of TO the other day, which made me want to (re)read the book, and I am just overwhelmed by the amount of love I feel for Soda.
(Y/N) groaned as her car, her precious cherry red Mustang, was slowing down even though she was stepping on the gas as hard as she could. She turned down the volume of the music, and slammed her hand against the driving wheel when the car came to a full stop.
Oh god. The last time I had an opinion about Supernatural it didn’t go over well. :/ But if you insist. This isn’t my #1, but just something I’ve thought about:
Basically, what were Sam and Dean’s birthdays like when they were young? I’d imagine that Sam’s 1st Birthday wasn’t much of anything, as John would’ve been too out of his mind with grief. How could he celebrate without Mary? How could ANYTHING ever be happy again without Mary? It was all he could do to keep a 1 year-old fed, washed and in diapers; a party was out of the question.
But Pastor Jim brought in a little cupcake with a candle on it, and said a prayer over little Sammy’s head. Please watch over this little one. Please let losing his mother be the worst thing he ever has to bear. Please let him grow up to know how loved he is.
Dean showed Sammy how to blow out the candle. “Like this. Puff out your cheeks and poof!”
“Boof!” Sammy screamed happily. Dean laughed and blew the candle out for him.
John turned away so his boys wouldn’t see his heart breaking–but after that, he always made sure to make an effort.
Dean’s 6th birthday was something–John had enrolled him in kindergarten seven months earlier, and the sunny-haired kid had made instant friends with everyone in the class. So when Dean mentioned his birthday was coming up, the teacher pulled John aside after class and asked what the party plans were.
“Uh,” John stammered. “I was thinking, maybe–Plucky Pennywhistle’s? Kids love that place, right?”
And the teacher smiled kindly at this handsome young widower–who clearly had NO CLUE how to plan kid’s parties–and said yes, kids love Plucky’s. And speaking of, some of the other stay-at-home moms love planning parties and would John mind terribly if they pitched in a bit? Just to give them something to do, you know?
John knew the other moms had plenty to do, and the teacher knew John knew–but he accepted the lie gratefully. The next day, Dean came to school with an envelope addressed to the teacher. Inside was $1000 cash and a note that said, “He loves cars and cowboys. Will this be enough? I want him to smile again. -JW”
The teacher didn’t cry. Not in front of the kids.
What she did was activate the phone tree, marshaling an army of no-nonsense moms. They passed out invitations with pictures of cowboys driving cherry red Ford Mustangs on them to everyone in the class, bought balloons and streamers, and made sure there were carrots and juice boxes to go along with all the pizza they ordered from Plucky’s.
John promised to provide the cake.
On the day of the party, little Dean walked into a cowboys and cars-themed wonderland, topped by a mountain of presents. When the moms crowded around Dean, he clung to John’s hand and hid–but they were so nice, and offered him pizza and juice, and all his friends were there–
–within minutes, he was off: playing tag, jumping in the ballpit, racking up tickets from the skeeball machine. Two year-old Sammy toddled after him, and Dean had a great time lifting his baby brother up high so he could dunk the balls at the “Hoops” machine.
Meanwhile, John carefully unwrapped the aluminum foil from around a vaguely circular, rather lumpy cake. “I tried to recreate the recipe his mom always used. It tastes okay, but–”
The other moms looked at the sad little cake and grinned. One of them was sent out for icing; another produced a giant sparkler candle shaped like a ‘6′. It took them a few minutes, but by the time they were ready to sing “Happy Birthday,” the cake looked as fancy as if Mary herself had baked it.
The party only lasted a few hours, but both boys were exhausted by the time John finished packing all the presents into the trunk of the Impala.
As they drove back to their skeezy little motel–Sammy asleep in his carseat and Dean riding up front like a Big Boy–John asked, “Did you have a good time today, buddy?”
“Best day ever, Dad.” Dean passed the giant slinky he’d exchanged his tickets for from hand to hand. “It was awesome!”
“Yeah, this kid at school always says that. It means real good and nice.”
“Does it?” John smiled. “Good to know.”
There was a long pause. “Daddy?”
John could barely get the words out around the sudden lump in his throat. “Thank you, Dean. You’re awesome, too.”
And that’s why, years later, Dean always dropped Sam off at Plucky Pennywhistle’s whenever he needed some time away from babysitting–because kids love those places, right?
HERE WE GOOOOOOO. THIS LITERALLY ISN’T A BIG DEAL BUT IT IS FOR ME SO I HOPE YOU ALL LIKE IT. FEED BACK IS MUCH APPRECIATED. OK ILL STOP NOW. ENJOY.
Chapter 1, Silence
Cold. Cold was the perfect word for what the breeze felt like. Lucid looking trees loomed behind a cascading cliff. To the far horizon was pinks, yellows, and dark blues of city lights, glowed against the rippling starry sky. Large transparent clouds masked portions of the dripping cosmos that leaked dark matter.
A bent silver road guardrail, missing a large portion that opened wide, partly separated the cliff and the bustling city. Creeping damp grass crawled to the edge and seemed to begin to almost fall as the longer strands laid limp, only moving for a signal moment when the wind came and went. The road behind the cliff bent in a curve making the other parts of the road unseeable or even inexistent, except for here.
Cold. Cold was the perfect word for what the breeze felt like. A mustang that looked out of place for the time, laid still, parked beside the etched guardrail. The faded red of the car looked rich and rose like under the luminescent waning moon.
A silhouette leaned against a part of the guard rail that was somewhat up right. His breathing was wavered, hitching only for a second. His head cast down, but eyes flicked up toward the overwhelming city that was still keeping itself awake even at this hour. His hands crossed over the other with no thought. The silhouettes lips curved slightly downward in a faint pained sort of way, shifting his feet to lean on his right more as he let his heavy weighed mind lower slowly to connect with the cool metal surface of the rail. His hands naturally came to meet him half way, catching his forehead with his knuckles, white from squeezing them to hard a few minutes before.
Silence. Not deathly silence or a silence that rings with pressure when it’s dead quiet and all that can be heard is a soft ring of pressure on silent ears. This silence was a silence of trees whistling with the wind. A silence of distant car horns and sirens. A silence of an owl calling to its mate that was the night itself. Silence. This was his silence, yet ownership had nothing to do with it.
One of his hands slipped from its loose hold, slowly opening the fist and running his hand up his face. It made its way to his thick hair as his hand ran through it. Slowly, he picked his head up but, still lower than before. His hand that had ran through his hair came down to meet the rail again.
The lights from the city seemed dimmer, along with the natural light of the sky and moon. His breathing deepened with long heavy breaths that seemed to carry such an immense weight. He shut his eyes slowly, prepping himself to push off the guardrail to stand on his own again, if he even could. He grasped the rail, arching his shoulder blades as he pushed away from it gently. The silhouette stood up right for the first time in hours, shoulders relaxed as his weight rested on one leg. He turned his attention back to the lively city, resting his hands in his jacket pockets, head falling back as the sky seemed to be more interesting.
“Por supuesto…” his voice was more quiet than the silence that surrounded him. His silence.
* * *
The sun was just that. The sun. It was warm and comforting but, at the moment other things were just to distracting for the boy sitting on his porch to really enjoy the stunning morning. It hadn’t quite risen all the way. You could clearly see the beams of sun peeking through the shadow looking trees.
He clicked open his phone.
He slid the phone into one of his leather jacket pockets, the shoulders of the jacket weren’t fully on. They hung half way calmly.
The Latino young man ran a olive colored hand through his thick dark tree bark washed hair, dusky chocolate eyes closed for a few seconds to relax or try to. His worn dark grey looking jeans skimmed the porch step every so often. The chiming of harmonized voices of small metal hanged from feathery strings that swayed loosely from the roof of a porch across the street. He breathed in deeply, he exhaled consciously. His eyes fluttered open after a few blissful moments of just nothingness. Then, oh god.
His heart stopped when he saw a young girl standing in the middle of the road, facing him, staring. He stuttered his arms behind him to grab anything, something to ground him as his heart seemed to lose control. He ended up on his side when one of his arms missed the ground as he fell roughly. He finally found his life line, shaking hands clutching the cement floor as he looked over his arm, unblinking. His eyes stung from being open so long without a single blink. He heaved breathlessly as his mind raced with terrifying but, some beautiful thoughts. The emotion stricken boy leaned up slowly, still cautious.
He blinked. Only once.
She was gone.
For a few moments he let his body connect with the ground fully. The cool touch of the smooth porch he couldn’t even feel was nonexistent with the rest of the world in those few long, agonizing, moments. He laid there unthinking, unmoving, but completely restless in his thoughts. He swallowed hard as he shut his glazed eyes tightly, relaxing them once his breathing finally had slowed to a deep staggered flow. He brought a hand to his thudding chest, trying to calm his drum of a heart. He leaned back up to the sitting position he was in earlier. His head hanged slightly low, a desperate hand still on his chest. The young mans short hair strands fell lazily in a slight curl on his forehead.
A pained, slight agape frown of his mouth contrasted his half lidded gold flaky eyes.
He needed a moment. He needed a lot of moments. The high school junior heaved a deep, shaky, long breath. The overwhelmed boy tried to think of anything else, something else than what he wanted to.
Saturday. He remembered that’s what today was.
He sighed as he let his hand fall in his lap thoughtlessly. He ran a tired hand over his face then into his hair, combing it back. He looked back to the road with an unreadable look. The finally composed but, still shaken teen, got up swiftly, pulling his jacket fully on his shoulders.
A faded cherry red 1968 Ford Mustang sat parked in the driveway of the boys small but, quant home. He looked to the ground for a moment at his side, then walked to the car, pulling his keys out of one of his jacket pockets. He slide in weightlessly into the drivers seat, putting the key in the ignition but, not turning it. The teen stared at the wheel with one hand on it, gripped loosely.
He swung his head back as he turned the ignition with an unreadable grimace on his face. He closed his eyes then opened them quickly. The determined painted Latino swung out of the driveway quickly but, expertly. The roar of the engine pierced the surrounding air as he pressed the gas, not looking back.
A new thought crossed his mind, his eyes widening slightly with a gleam in them that sparked brightly. A small smile played on his sculpted features.
“You’re such a pain but, you’re my pain.” He spoke to no one. His voice laced sweetly as he drifted down the road.
“Here if you want me,
listening so close from far away I memorized what you told me,
like a foreigner on holiday I know to smile at confusion, not
forget the soul that smiles on me Dancing on the highway, the
broken line that led from you to me Well, I’ll be at my station
all night, so come on by if you feel like
Still here if you
want me, look at what I can do with empty time A lost love that
likes to haunt me - it’s waiting around to meet me when I die Death
surrounds, protects the living - this is what you said and I
agreed Not to be unforgiving just because your soul’s done time
and free Because I’m here if you want me, my love, dancing on
But your sun still burns my eye Oh, why? Oh,
Elliott Smith –
Dancing on the Highway
Watching Dean flirt with
random waitresses used to be a sport that you and Sam loved to watch,
making commentary at it like announcers at a game. You cheered his
successes and over analyzed his failures in play by play detail. Over
time it seemed harder and harder to watch and less like a sport as
his antics ate away at you. It became more like a knife twisting in
your gut at the mere thought of it and caused you physical pain to
Summary: Dean makes you dinner for a date, when you thought it was for ‘the family’.
You waited patiently at the door, your hair blowing across your face in the light night breeze. You turned to look at the lawn, seeing your cherry-red fastback ‘67 Mustang parked behind Dean’s Impala. Then the door opened behind you and you turned to face who had invited you over for dinner.
the same for you and me
The superhero’s dyin’
All the children cryin’
more records if I’m dead
Purple flowers once again
Hope it’s sooner, hope it’s near
Corporate records’ fiscal year”
Weiland “Adhesive” by Stone Temple Pilots
I woke up today to 17 missed
calls and 43 text messages.
It’s cliché to say that bad news
is like a punch to the gut, but that’s exactly what it felt like. Scott Weiland
was more than the deeply talented frontman for Stone Temple Pilots and Velvet
Revolver; more than the poster child for ‘90s rock ‘n’ roll excess; more than a
rock star – the man was a bona-fide, once-in-a-generation ICON.
In the coming days, there will be
formulaic recaps of his career, tasteless Twitter jokes about his lifestyle,
weepy elegies to the lost promise of ‘90s rock, brainy think pieces and a lot
of “I told you so”. All of that is okay. It’s human nature. It’s what people do
when someone famous dies young.
But for some of us, it’s much
deeper. Scott’s music touched us the way only the best art can. It resonated
with us and helped form who we are. I’m firmly in this camp.
I’m in the latter camp not only because
I loved his music, but because I was his guitarist and friend in the ‘90s.
I met Scott shortly after STP had
their first really big hit with “Plush”. At the time, all of us oh-so-cool rock
‘n’ rollers dismissed him as a weak Eddie Vedder clone. People forget that this
was a common attitude about STP at the time (of course, he went on to make us
jealous haters eat our words). Scott came to see a band I was in at a small
club in Los Angeles. After the set, I was hanging out with a bandmate in the
parking lot and we see Scott approaching. “Ugh, that’s the dude from that Stone
Temple band – what the hell does he want?” Scott came up to us gushing about
our set and being so charming, so funny and so intelligent that we felt like
asses for our stupid, uninformed opinion of him. I liked him immediately.
A few months later he invited me
to join his side project, The Magnificent Bastards.
Working with Scott was a
revelatory experience. The man was so effortlessly talented it seemed
supernatural. Scott could take the most boneheaded, 2-note riff and put a vocal
on it that turned it into an instant classic. That’s the mark of the truly
gifted. Creating unbelievably powerful rock music was like breathing for him. Make
no mistake – as a frontman, Scott Weiland is in the same league as Mick Jagger,
Jim Morrison, Iggy Pop and David Bowie. The man was simply that good.
We did some recordings for
various albums, jammed a lot, wrote some songs – but mostly we had a great
time. He’d laugh about the dumbest stuff and had a lust for life that was
He also had a drug problem. A
Scott Weiland’s struggles with
drugs are well-documented and I’m not going to recap them here. Suffice to say
that he could be surrounded by a drug-induced wall that prevented him from
connecting with those around him. If I was annoyed by it as one of his musician
buddies, it must have been absolute hell for his family and those who were
truly close to him.
Even with this crippling
addiction to contend with, Scott’s kindness was always evident. He was an
extremely big-hearted, generous guy who would show up unannounced and take you
to a restaurant you could never afford or surprise you with a gift of
incredible vintage clothing that just happened to fit perfectly (I found out
later that Scott had my girlfriend send him all my sizes).
When my grandfather died, the
first visitor to show up at my house was Scott Weiland. He didn’t simply call
to say “sorry man” – he drove to my house to give me a hug. This was at the
height of his fame. That’s the sort of person he was.
I’ll never forget when he showed
up to rehearsal in a pristine, cherry red 1965 Mustang convertible. He had just
bought it as a surprise gift for his first wife. Scott was in drag that day,
but that’s a tale for another time…
I lost touch with Scott in the
‘90s. Our lives were on very different paths, but I followed his career with
special interest. I was so happy for him when Velvet Revolver formed, but by
then it was apparent that he was still unable to kick his demons. That thought
is almost too depressing to contemplate. Mostly, I hoped that the fun-loving,
music-obsessed guy I knew was still inside him. I’m positive it was.
As I write this, Scott’s cause of
death has yet to be publicly disclosed. It really doesn’t matter what killed
him. Will his loss be more or less meaningful if he overdosed? He’s gone and
we’re left with his music as his permanent legacy.
All I know is that when I knew
him, he desperately wanted out from under his drug addiction. It’s crazy the
way we lionize drug use among the creative class and especially rock stars.
It’s a passé attitude for the 21st century. Let’s leave the image of
the “elegantly wasted” rock star in the dustbin of history with leisure suits
and 8-track tapes.
If you want to honor the legacy
of Scott Weiland, commit to a deeper understanding about the nature of
addiction. If you need help, seek it. If you don’t, help someone who does. But don’t forget to crank up some classic
Stone Temple Pilots jams while you’re doing so.
Farewell, Scott. The world is
much less interesting without you in it.
A/N: Okay, so some of you may have seen the Olicity/Fast and Furious AU prompt post that I posted recently. I have no intentions of writing that fic at the moment, I don’t have the time, but I couldn’t help writing a quick oneshot from that universe. This is how I imagined the scene where Oliver and Felicity meet for the first time at one of the street races and it is very much inspired by the scene in the movie when Brian meets Dom. If anyone is interested in continuing it from here or writing a completely different interpretation of their own, I would be more than happy to read it. I’m also here if anyone wants to bounce ideas off each other, cause I’ve got plenty regarding this au. There’s also another scene from this verse that I have in mind and will probably end up writing sometime in the future. Anyways, enough with my babbling and on to the fic. Enjoy! :)
It took three days before Oliver finally got a tip on when the next street race was going down. Thea hadn’t been too happy about his sudden reappearance in town which is why he hadn’t heard about any races until now; not only was she pissed that he hadn’t bothered to come visit for the last 5 years, but she also wasn’t too happy about him getting back into the racing scene. Oliver had assured her that he wasn’t looking to fall back into old habits, he was just curious to see how things had changed since he left.
When he got her text at 9pm telling him where to go if he wanted to check things out Oliver quickly threw on a plain t-shirt and jeans before grabbing his keys and jumping in his all black Subaru Impreza, courtesy of John Diggle, Starling City PD Chief who was helping on the case.
So I went to the Tauranga Air show today and got in free with my friend who’s dad owns a hanger and was flying some of his planes in the show. They had a classic car parking and you were allowed to take photos so I got some of this Cherry red Mustang.
Character(s): Sam Author: nac-winchester (my SPN blog) Reader Gender: Female Word Count: 1466 Warnings: none Based off Taylor Swift’s “Wildest Dreams” from her new album.
I had bought the bulky Polaroid camera at a flea market next to an investigation Sam and I were working at. We wandered over to the shabby mill just for kicks when we passed this vintage stand. I had a sweet tooth when it came to older things such as music and technology. Sam didn’t know this too much at the time, so I told him to wait for me by a stand that sold knives.
I remember walking up to that stand feeling both anxious and excited. The camera sat on top of a small box labeled “film”. Immediately, I knew I just had to have it. There was a sample picture beside the box to show how well the camera worked. In that Polaroid, a young couple smiled at the lense while standing in front of a lake. The man sitting in a chair stood up and grabbed his cane before hobbling over to me. “Are you interested in my camera?” he asked.
“Yes, sir,” I answered and glanced at the knife stand in my peripheral vision. The old man smiled in front of me.
Description: This is just part one to a series (I don’t know how long it will be) where each chapter will be a new song. In this one you are Bobby’s adopted daughter and the boys don’t know about you. They show up to Bobby’s and Dean is startled to find he feels much more than a physical attraction to you. But he’s even more startled to find that he’s not his usual smooth self around you.
A/N: so… I’m writing a fanfic. Hahahhah…. HAHAHAHAHAH OH GOD I’M NERVOUS. I’M SO SORRY IF ITS TERRIBLE.
Shay got home from soccer practice around five that night and rushed to get ready. He grabbed a sandwich on the way to his room not knowing if they would grab more food than the ice cream they planned. He got up to his room and freaked. His clothes he had picked out last night had grey dog hair on them. “Banrion did you get hair on Daddy’s clothes? He has a date tonight!”, he said to his Irish wolfhound. Luckily he found the lint brush. He got the hair off and took the outfit with him to the bathroom so she couldn’t get it furry again. He showered since he was covered in sweat from the soccer drills today. Coach was harder on them because of the game tomorrow. Getting out he used a little cologne and brushed his teeth before getting dressed. Tight light blue boxer briefs went on followed by skinny white jeans, a bright blue button up shirt that matched his eyes and matching Converse Chuck Taylor low rise tennis shoes.
Once he was dressed he grabbed his wallet, cell phone, the little gift he bought Blaine, the box of cookies he’d baked and the bag he packed just in case he got to tired at Blaine’s house to drive back home. He kissed Bana’s head goodbye and headed downstairs. He yelled goodbye to his family, ran outside and after setting his bag in the trunk got in the car. He loved his car, a cherry red mustang convertible. He drove to Blaine’s house the wind blowing in his hair, music playing on the radio as he sang along. Soon he got to the Anderson’s residence. He grabbed the little puppy dog stuffed animal that had reminded him of Blaine’s puppy dog eyes and the box of cookies after he parked. He walked up the front walk and then standing on the front porch knocked on the door. He waited for Blaine bouncing a little as he stood there since he was so excited. When the door was opened he grinned. “Hi gorgeous. I brought you a friend. His puppy dog eyes are almost as cute as yours.”, he said holding the dog up. He handed him the box of cookies and giggled. “Make sure Captain Obvious gets those okay?”, he added.