i know it's already been edited but i wanted to do my own ok!

You're Ok

Prompt: Mark and Ty calming Eth down when he’s really stressed/anxious. Thank you @tythaningalltheway for the prompt!!
(Ps I didn’t know if you wanted it to be more shippy or just platonic so I tried to leave it open to interpretation)

Ethan groaned in frustration. All he wanted to do was finish editing this video for his channel so he could start working on some of Mark’s videos. But his computer decided now was the best time to do automatic updates. Ethan wasn’t as pissed as he was worried. He knew he needed to get at least one of Mark’s and one of his own videos done today or else he’ll be behind on editing. Ethan was already not putting out as much content as he thought he should be. Ever since he moved out to LA, his scheduling had been fucked up. He knew the others in the house had tried to make his transition as easy as possible. And it did help some. But it didn’t help that he could only edit when at the office and that Mark made a rule that no one was allowed to edit past 9 pm. Back home, Ethan was use to editing into the early hours of the morning. That was one way how he was able to get two videos out each and every day plus work on a lot of Mark’s content. Now he could only get at least one video uploaded a day and was barely getting through Mark’s videos.

Ethan didn’t realize he was hyperventilating until he felt a hand on his shoulder. Ethan jumped as he whipped around, scaring the other person as much as he scared himself.

“Woah there buddy,” A soothing voice said.
“I need you to breathe. Can you breathe, Ethan?”

It took a minute for Ethan to realize that the voice belonged to Mark.

Ethan’s first instinct was to run. He didn’t really know why, but he felt trapped and needed to get away.
That was, until big muscular arms engulfed him and scooped him up out of his chair. Ethan looked up to see Tyler’s face looking back at him with concern. Ethan wanted to cower away.

“Hey now Ethan.” Tyler said gently.
“You’re okay. Breathe.”

Ethan was a shaking mess by the time Tyler got him to the couch. Tyler started rubbing circles on his back. Ethan almost didn’t notice Mark placing a blanket around him.
Ethan turned his head and looked at him. Mark sighed and wiped his thumb under Ethan’s eye. Ethan was suddenly aware of wetness on his face and realized he must’ve been crying.

“Do you need anything, bud?” Mark ask in a soft tone.

“Could- could I have some water please?” Ethan asked timidly.

“Yeah of course.” Mark smiled.

As Mark made his way to their kitchenette, Ethan leaned into Tyler’s side. Tyler instantly started playing with Ethan’s hair. Ethan let out a little hum and closed his eyes.

“Feeling any better?” Tyler asked.

Ethan nodded.
“A bit. Thanks.”

“Do you wanna talk about what just happened over there?”

“I uh I-” Ethan could feel the anxiety rising back up.

Ethan’s eyes darted around frantically before locking eye contact with Mark.

Mark seemed to realize what was going on, or at least that Ethan needed help, and quickly came over to the couch.

“Here’s your water.“ Mark smiled.

Ethan took it gratefully and gulped it down.

“Its getting late we should head home soon.“ Mark said, looking at his watch.

“Sounds like a good idea to me. Ethan?” Tyler looked at him for a response.

“Huh?” Ethan stopped drinking so he could hear.

“You ready to go to the house?”

“Uh…” Ethan glanced towards his computer.

“The videos can wait. Its ok, Ethan.” Mark said.

Ethan just nodded before standing up. Ethan can sense both Mark’s and Tyler’s eyes on him the entire time. He kept his head down as he went back to his desk to grab his phone.

“You ready?” Tyler placed a hand on Ethan’s shoulder, almost protectively.

“Yeah.” Ethan said, slightly leaning into his touch.

Tyler smiled as he led them to his car.
They piled in. Tyler driving, Mark sitting shotgun, and Ethan in the back looking out the window. Mark and Tyler almost instantly started up a conversation and only a few minutes later, they realized Ethan’s responses had faded out.
They looked back to see Ethan curled up asleep in the back seat.

“Poor kid.” Mark sighed.

Tyler just nodded in agreement.
“Should we wake him or?”

“Nah, I’ll carry him in.”

Mark got out once the car was parked and opened Ethan’s door. Mark carefully slid an arm behind Ethan’s back and an arm under his knees.
Mark carried him bridal style through the house, with Tyler opening doors for him until they made it to Ethan’s bedroom.

“Alright we should get out and let him sleep.” Tyler said from the doorway.

“I’d love to but uh…”

“But what?”

“He’s not letting go.”

Tyler looked over and saw Ethan clinging to Mark’s arm like it was a stuffed animal.
Tyler chuckled.

“Should we take him to the couch then and watch a couple of movies til he wakes up?” Mark suggested.

“Sounds like a plan.”

~time skip~

Ethan woke the next morning to find himself squished between Tyler and Mark.
The tv was left on and there was discarded plates and cups on the coffee table, which led Ethan to believe they didn’t fall asleep there on purpose.
Ethan pulled the blanket that was draped across him up to his chin before snuggling back down.
Ethan had a soft smile on his face as he drifted back to sleep.
Expecting?

Expecting?
[Christian. When were you ready to expect?]

“Which one am I supposed to buy?” Christian grumbled into his phone in English, taking salvation in hoping that the old ahjussi working couldn’t understand him. There was nothing more embarrassing than standing in a convenient store in the middle of the night looking at the various pregnancy test.

“I don’t fucking know Christian” you groaned pacing back and forth in your living room. “I haven’t done this before-just get all of them.”

“All? There’s like thirty different brands. Have you lost your mind?”

“Yes Christian. Yes I have because SOMEBODY may have gotten me pregnant.”

“Chill. I got this” he sighed looking at the shelves “…Hmmm this should be fine right?” He shrugged, grabbing the more inexpensive of the brands and shoving it in the bottom of his basket. There was no way in hell he was going to leave this convenient store with only a pregnancy test in his basket. He grabbed chips, cookies, and drinks. Anything that’ll prolong the clerk from getting to the pregnancy test. “Babe, you want anythin?”

“Yes I want to not be pregnant”

Keep reading

threat // peter parker

request from @fragilefrances: Reader keeps getting threats and she keeps it to herself and when she disappears, Peter finds the threats and tries to find her before its too late

word count: 3.3k

a/n: hey guys! this my first time writing a request, so i hope you guys enjoy! i realize i didn’t do exactly what the request said, but i hope it’s still ok (sorry!!). unedited! this will get a part 2 soon! and starting next monday, i begin high school! it should be okay for the first few weeks, but i might get a lil busy so i hope y'all understand! i’ll still write as much as possible <3 and hope you guys enjoy this! warning for threatening and kidnapping themes. <3333

masterlist

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“So I thought about telling her that, y’know, I was kind of in an awkward situation there. But how are you supposed to do that with all these people around?”

“Mhm.”

“And then she had this idea, right, and I was like, ‘What are you doing?’ and she was getting this empty bottle and she said she wanted to play Spin the Bottle!”

“Uh huh.”

“She knows that I have strict boundaries with that stuff, and she still…” You trail off into silence for a few seconds. “Okay, Pete, I know you don’t care, but give me something to work with here.” You wait for a response, and then check to see if Peter is still on the other end of the line. “Hello?”

“Wait, what did you say?” You sigh audibly at this. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I was…zoned out.”

“It’s okay.” There’s a short pause.

“So what were you telling me?”

“Uh, it’s nothing important. Speaking of which, I’m getting a little tired. I’d better get going.”

“It’s not even eight, how are you tired already?” He sounds confused.

“I stayed up last night. I’ll see you.”

“Uh, okay then. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

You hang up the phone call, feeling discomfort poke at you. Peter’s as close to a best friend you’ll ever have. You know him like the back of your hand. But recently he’s been a little weird around you. He’s always off in his own little world, thinking about something else. It was okay the first few times, but now you hardly have conversations with him anymore. You’re just worried if he’s okay sometimes.

Is this just a thing that happens when people grow apart? You gaze out of your tiny window into the not-so-tiny world. The sun is drowning in the horizon, the fiery orange and red tones fading away into pink, and then into periwinkle blue. The city is noisy, but in this transition between day and night, everything looks beautiful.

You think about talking to Peter. But where would you even begin? How do people have supportive conversations? You’re not very good at being helpful in this kind of situation. You move away from your window and flop onto your bed. You dig around your sheets for a minute before finding your phone. You Google ‘Why is my best friend being distant?’ and scroll through a few pages. If anything, this just depresses you more, so you decide to stop.

You’re about to close your phone when it dings with a text. Is it Peter with another half-assed apology? It seems you’ve been spared from that tonight. You scroll through your conversations, but you don’t see any new texts. You frown when you see an old text. Whoops, you forgot to text a classmate back about a quiz. The quiz that happened today. Yikes.

Well, you’re sure it’s okay. You set your phone aside to do homework. But as soon as you lift your pencil, your phone starts ringing. Without looking at who it is, you pick up, voice firm. “Peter, I’m sleeping. Bye.”

You pause, and then look at who’s really calling you. Whoever it was turned off their caller ID. Uh…weird. Is this a prank call? “Um…hello?” You say cautiously.

The silence hangs for what feels like an eternity. Unsettled, you hang up. You have a notification for a text. You open it.

Unknown: There’s a package waiting for you on your doorstep. Get it within fifteen minutes.

You frown. Is this one of your friends trying to play some sick practical joke on you? “Yeah? Or what?” You mutter to yourself, scoffing.

Unknown: [image attached] Or else something might just happen to him.

Your eyes widen when you look at the picture. It’s Peter, sitting in his bedroom. But…he’s, like, attached to the ceiling. He’s hanging upside down and reading a book. No, this must be digitally edited or something. That’s when you see two things. The digital clock, which reads the time right now: 8:37 PM. And a very familiar looking suit on the floor. The Spider-Man suit. You’ve never been more confused.

You feel a tight knot in your chest. How does this person know who Peter is? How do they know you? Who are they? How do they know that you know Peter? They’re not going to hurt him, are they? Why does Peter have that suit? Christ, is he the Spider-Man that you saw in a YouTube video a few days ago?

You look at your clock. Nearly five minutes have passed already. You don’t want to find out what they’ll do to Peter if you don’t comply, so you quickly stand up and fumble to unlock your door. You race downstairs and past a pair of worried looking mothers.

“Honey, is everything -” You cut one of them off as you step out of the apartment. Sure enough, there’s a small box sitting there. You scoop it up and dash back upstairs with it. You swallow, breathing heavily as you grab your phone. Another message pops up.

Unknown: Good girl. Give it to the hooded boy waiting in the alley by your building at 7:50 AM tomorrow. Don’t talk to him.

You try keep yourself together and think. Do you dare send a message?

You: who are you and how do you know me?

You: how do you know him?

No response. You didn’t really expect one, anyway.

You: you can do anything you want with me. just don’t touch him. please.

You don’t expect a response to that, either, but then, a message pops up.

Unknown: Follow your instructions without hesitation and he will go unharmed.

You set your phone down as you try to process everything. The first thing you do is cry, sobbing uncontrollably while you clutch a pillow to your chest. What do you even do? You want to call Peter, but you’re scared of what might happen. Whoever this is knows how dear he is to your heart. What do they know and what don’t they know? Is anything even private anymore?

You think about every memory you shared with Peter. That one time you ruined his new jeans by throwing a cupcake at him. Or when you sat on the floor and debated over Star Wars fan theories for a whole day. Or the countless nights you stayed up with him on Skype, talking endlessly. Or just a few months ago, when he kissed you and he thought you didn’t feel that way about him even though you did.

He’s not just the friend that went through thick and thin with you. You love him, goddammit. And now you don’t know what to do because you can’t imagine being in a world without him. You can’t even imagine him ever being hurt. At any other point in your life, the possibility that he might be Spider-Man would freak you out more than anything. But right now, you don’t care about any of it. You’re pretty sure that even Spider-Man can’t dodge a bullet when he least expects it.

You try to make yourself feel better about it all. So what, you move around a few packages and then they leave you alone. And then you can carry on with your life and have everything be okay. No biggie.

Still, a dark feeling disturbs you.

Having completely forgotten about your homework, you lay on your bed to sleep. You’re too frightened to sleep with the lights off, so you leave them on as you drift into an uncomfortable slumber. You toss and turn all night, racked with paranoia and fear. You hardly get any sleep. For the longest time, you stare at the ceiling. You just want Peter to be safe. You just want to protect him. The idea of protecting Spider-Man feels silly, but the picture ‘Unknown’ sent you lingers in your head. He’s still a kid, like you. He still has vulnerabilities.

You jolt when your alarm clock goes off, scaring you. You quickly switch it off. 6:30 AM. If you have to give the package to someone at 7:50, you’re going to be late for school. You guess one day won’t be too bad. You scrape your hair out of your face and put on your jeans and t-shirt from yesterday. The t-shirt says “May the force be with you” but the word “force” is replaced with the formula for force. It was a Christmas present from Peter.

At 7:30, you head outside to wait with the package in hand. It’s chillier than you expected, but you manage to stand there for twenty minutes. Goosebumps lines your exposed arms as you look around for the recipient. You realize that you didn’t even stop to think about what was in the box. You were so busy worrying about Peter that you forgot about it. What if you’re carrying meth or crack cocaine or something? What if you’re helping some illegal activity happen?

Just as you start freaking out over it, a hooded figure enters the alley. You’ve never seen the guy before, but he looks young. He can’t be older than seventeen. He stares at you expectantly. You open your mouth to say something but quickly shut it when you remember that you’re not supposed to say anything. You quickly hand over the box. To your surprise, he starts opening it. You watch, lips parted.

You expect him to take out something suspicious-looking, but instead he reveals a knife wrapped in cloth. He unwinds the cloth, and before you can even scream, the boy pins you to the wall. One gloved hand presses tightly over your mouth as you try and yell out. He presses the knife to your throat and you reflexively tilt your head back to try and create some space between your neck and the knife.

Oh god, this is it. This is the end. You think about how you should’ve been a little nicer to your moms, and how you should’ve apologized to a few people. You should’ve told Peter you loved him. And maybe kissed him again. His image flashes in your head. His warm, dark eyes that crinkle when he smiles at you. His soft lips against yours, hungry for something you’ve both wanted for an eternity. The way his dark brown hair flops onto his forehead and escapes the gel when he’s leaning over to work on a project. The look on his face right before he’s about to make a dumb joke that you’ll laugh at anyway. It’s all too sweet to let go of so quickly, but if it means saving him, you’ll do it without hesitation.

And then, as though the guy was having second thoughts, he steps back. He almost looks apologetic, but it might just be the lighting. Your heart’s still pounding out of fear as you fumble for your phone. What the hell?

Unknown: Wait until further instruction.

You look back up to yell at the boy, but he’s vanished. You glance into the darkening alley, and then out towards the street. Great, you don’t want your life threatened again anyway. You check the time. It’s nearly 8:10, and you’re already missing first period. You race out to go to school.

In second period English, Peter side eyes you the whole time, like he normally does. You normally do the same, but you can’t seem to bring yourself to look at him today. Your phone is on your lap in case you get a text.

Is he really Spider-Man? You tune out the entire class, until the teacher walks up to you. “Y/N, are you alright?” You jolt slightly in surprise when you see her.

“Uh, yeah, I’m fine,” you say quickly, tripping over your words.

“You didn’t seem to hear me for the past five minutes. Where’s your homework?” You’re acutely aware that the whole class is staring at you, including Peter. Your cheeks redden in embarrassment when you realize you didn’t do it last night. What are you supposed to say?

“U-Uh, I left it at, um, home.” Your voice is quiet as you look down, your face burning up. Everyone’s going to think you’re stupid and you don’t take school seriously. They’re going to think that instead of doing my homework last night, you were at Flash’s party getting drunk, and that’s why you’re being weird now. Ha. As if you’d even get invited.

You spend the rest of class being extremely embarrassed as you try and participate more. At the end of class, Peter walks up to you. Dejected, you try and walk past him, but he blocks your path.  You step around him, but he’s too quick. He grabs you by the arms this time, but then lets go when you show obvious discomfort. You walk out of the classroom, Peter right beside you. “What’s up with you?” He asks.

“Nothing,” you murmur, slightly annoyed.

“Oh, so you mean nothing as in totally ignoring me, having bags under your eyes, and not doing your homework for once in a blue moon. You look like you saw a ghost, you’re scared out of your damn mind. So don’t give me this bullshit about nothing being wrong, Y/N.” Is he mad at you? Suddenly, it seems silly to think he was the same person you fell in love with months ago. He seems completely different. The Peter you know wouldn’t get mad at you. His expression softens when he sees yours. “I’m sorry.”

“No, you know what, Parker, what’s wrong with you?”

By now, the halls are nearly clear except for those skipping. “What are you talking about?” Peter asks, confused. He looks kind of upset, because he knows you’re serious when you call him by his last name.

“You know what I’m talking about. You hardly talk to me, and you’re never paying attention when you do. If you don’t fricking like being around me, then tell me and I’ll leave you the hell alone! I thought we were best friends, and I thought that meant you could tell me anything. But whenever I ask, you say it’s nothing and I’ve been trying so hard to believe it. Because I trust you to tell me the truth when you think it’s time. But then the moment I start acting weird too, you just have to push it. Maybe I have my own secrets too. Did you ever think about that too? Maybe I put on a suit and I leap around kicking ass, too.” You spread your arms out, the angry look on your face quickly breaking apart. Peter’s eyes are wide as he stares, in complete shock. You can’t bring yourself to say anything else. You wipe the tears that start spilling from your eyes.

Peter tries to pull you into a hug, but you shove him away as hard as you can. Spider-Man can take a push, can’t he? But he winces anyway, simply watching as you walk away. You check your phone, and your heart pangs in your chest at the message.

Unknown: Don’t speak to him again.

You’ve never felt more alone, but at the same time, you can never truly be alone. You can’t even talk to Peter anymore, isolating you from the one person that matters most to you. But now you’re sure they’re watching you somehow. They’re watching your every footstep, they’re listening to your every word.

You instantly feel bad for yelling at Peter, as you always do whenever you get upset at him. You just can’t control your emotions around him anymore. For some reason, this all makes you want to protect him more.

God, you hate everything. You hate Peter for what he does but love him for who he is, which is a confusing thing all on its own. And he’s Spider-Man. And you’re doing scary ass things under the promise of his safety.

Your fingers brush against your throat. There isn’t a cut there or anything. Huh, maybe the knife just wasn’t that sharp.

Your phone pings with instructions to retrieve a box. For the next few hours, you’re forced to skip school as you obediently follow seemingly random orders. Thankfully, you don’t get any more knives shoved to your throat again. You just move things around, and you don’t even have to deliver things to anyone.

Over the course of the day, you start to calm down a little. It’s only now that you begin to question the person’s motive of threatening you with Peter. Do they want something from you? Or something from Peter? Peter is more likely, with him being Spider-Man and all. But all Spider-Man does is stop robbers and help old ladies out. He just doesn’t seem like a person worth targeting for the reason that he might be a threat to criminals.

You’ve had missed calls from him all day. He must be wondering where you went, but every time you even get the urge to call back, you remember the harsh warning you were given to not talk to him. He sent you tons of texts, too.

Peter: where are you???

Peter: y/n please!! i’m worried about you, just tell me you’re safe and i’ll stop.

Peter: i know you’re mad and you don’t care, but i really care. just tell me if you’re home or something. i won’t come visit you if you don’t want me to. i just need to know if you’re in a safe place. that’s it.

Messages like this continue on until a few scrolls. Finally, they come to a stop and then Ned texts you.

Ned: Hey Y/N Peter looks like he’s going to have a panic attack

Ned: It’s really bad and he won’t listen to me

Ned: Just tell him you’re okay so he’ll stop freaking out

Ned: Dude you realize he’ll put on his suit and try and find you if you don’t respond soon right

You take a deep breath and look away, pained inside. You don’t want to think about Peter getting anxiety over you. At least he’s alive. And when all of this is over, you can tell him everything and he’ll understand. Because he’d do the same for you. That’s just the kind of people you and Peter are. Your thoughts are cut off when you see you got a message from ‘Unknown’.

Unknown: Go back to the alleyway by your apartment and wait.

Unknown: This is the last message you will receive.

Something about this feels weird to you. Wait for what? This is a vague message, which is unusual considered the pattern of very specific messages. Nonetheless, you begin making your way home. Your phone keeps buzzing with messages, probably from Ned. You keep yourself going with only one thought in mind. It’s almost over. Just one more thing to do, and then it’s all over. You just hope Peter will be okay.

You finally get to the alleyway as the sun moves downward. It won’t be sunset for a few hours, unfortunately, but it’s not like you would be able to see it from down here anyway. You’re nervous, and there’s a very odd feeling in your gut. It’s giving you a very clear message. RUN. You ignore it, looking over your shoulder to see if anyone’s coming. No one.

You wait there for a while, realizing how exhausted you are from running around the city all day. You probably have so much homework to catch up on, and you owe an explanation for not showing up to most of your classes. Your phone buzzes again, and you finally look at it.

Mom: Honey, why did your mother and I get an email saying that you didn’t go to any of your classes other than English today?

Mom: You know that you can talk to us about anything. You can tell us the truth.

Shit. You are so screwed when you go home. You quickly start thinking of excuses, because you obviously can’t tell them the truth in this situation. As you worry over this, you don’t notice that someone is behind you.

Suddenly, you feel metal clang against your skull, and you’re gone. You drop the ground instantaneously, unconscious.

__________________________

tag list:

@thelifeofanengineeringstudent

@deans-angel-of-thursdays

@half-superhero

Illusion Part One (Lance Tucker x Reader)

Prompts/ Summaries: You are a 20 year old gymnast, who is training for her next, and probably last Olympic Game. Although you have won gold every year since you were 16, you mother and her husband Mark were never proud of you. She wanted you to be a rich lawyer like Mark, or a socialite like she was. Your mother insists you come to her annual charity event with a boyfriend, which you don’t have, but despite being a complete dick 100% of the time, Lance volunteers to pretend to be your boyfriend for your parents. What will happen? (I mean come on now y’all, we ALL know what happens in every situation like this, but like we still read them?)

Warnings: There are none yet, but eventually there will be smut? So warning is, LANCE TUCKER JUST BEING A SEX GOD 100% OF THE TIME BECAUSE BITCH THAT’S A WARNING ON ITS OWN <3

(NOTE: I LOVE LANCE TUCKER SO MUCH AND I FEEL LIKE HE IS A DICK TO COVER UP FOR SHIT HE DEALS ON HIS OWN, NOT THAT I CONDONE BEING AN ASSHOLE ALL THE TIME, BUT LIKE I’M AN ASSHOLE ALL THE SO SO I RELATE BECAUSE I FIND US BOTH EXTREMELY SIMILAR WITH VERY FEW DIFFERENCES? I’M A SUCKER FOR THE ASSHOLES AND I ALWAYS FIND A REASON TO DEFEND THEM.??)

I WROTE THIS FOR YA GIRL, ME, BECAUSE I’M COMPLETE LANCE TUCKER TRASH LIKE FUCK ME UP BITCH, GIVE ME THAT GOLD. OK I’M DONE

ALSO I DIDN’T PROOF READ THIS BECAUSE I WAS EXCITED FOR IT TO BE POSTED SO I’LL PROBABLY MAKE EDITS LATER.

LAST THING

SO I DON’T KNOW ANYTHING ABOUT GYMNASTICS SO I USED GIFS FROM TUMBLR, I FORGOT TO CITE THEM SO IF YOU WANT TO SEE THE SOURCES YALL CAN JUST TYPE IN “GYMNASTICS GIFS” ON TUMBLR



Part One

“Keep it tight or you’ll never hit the landing on dismount. You never get it right, and honestly how you took the gold last year is beyond me.” Lance walked up to you and looked dawn at you.

You stood with your hands on your hips, taking a deep breath. “Seriously Y/N, am I going to have to tie your legs together or something?”

“No.”

“Do it right next time or I swear I’ll do it.” Lance walked back from the mat and headed towards the cooler to grab a water. You rolled your eyes and walked back to the bar. You looked over at Lance, who wasn’t even paying attention before looking back to the bar and jumped. You gained your momentum and began doing the routine.

Once it came time to dismount you prepared yourself and let go, flipping and hitting the mat with the heels of your feet, almost maintaining your balance but ultimately losing and falling onto your back. You put your hands over your eyes and forehead sighing loudly while Lance started yelling again, his voice growing louder as he neared you. You shut him out and just focused on your breathing, trying to calm yourself of all the stress that had clouded your head lately. Your parents were on your ass about moving on and doing something else with your life, since they never really were supportive of your gymnastics.

“Y/N! Are you even listening to me?”

“It’s hard not to when you’re fucking screaming.”

“Watch it.” Lance squatted down next to you. “That attitude shit isn’t going to get you anywhere with me.”

You sat up and looked at your coach.

“What the hell is going on? You were perfect, haven’t missed anything for what, 4 years now? You’re probably on your last campaign this year, you are almost 21, you’re already pushing it. So don’t you want to go out with gold this year and stick it to the nation?”

“Yeah of course I do,” You put your head in your hands in defeat.

“Well, no offense, you’re not really showing it.” Lance moved from his squat and sat next to you on the mat. “Listen, what’s going on? Seriously. I’ve been your coach for 2 campaigns now and you’ve never been this distracted.”

“It’s just family stuff. I don’t want to talk about it.” You stood up and ran your hand across your forehead, covering it in a light layer of chalk. “I’m gonna get some water and go again.” You went to walk away when Lance grabbed your wrist.

“Sit down, you’re done for today.”

“I can go again it’s fine.”

“Y/N. You’re going to injure yourself if you keep practicing distracted.”

“I’m fine.”

“Clearly you aren’t.” Lance stood up and stepped closer to you. You looked up at his tall frame, slightly scared at the sudden aggression. “You’re not the coach, and you’re not the expert. If you wanted to coach yourself, I’ll leave. No problem.”

“You’re such an asshole. You know that right?”

“Yet here you are, still standing here. Still paying me to coach you.”

You rolled your eyes and began walking way.

“Be here tomorrow. 8am.”

“Yeah I know.”

You went into the locker room and changed into jeans and a t shirt. You let your hair down and ran some water on your face. You put your back on your shoulder and walked out into the main gym area. Lance had retired into his office in the back corner of the room. You walked over and knocked on the open door. Lance was behind his desk on his phone. When your presence was known, Lance ushered you in.

“I just wanted to say sorry for today, and that I’ll see ya tomorrow.”

“Close the door Y/N.”

You walked completely in and closed the door before turning back to Lance’s desk. He signaled for you to sit in the chair in front of the desk and you did, crossing your legs underneath you. Lance walked out in front of the desk and sat on the top of it.

“Honestly, what the hell is going on.” He sat and crossed his arms, still chewing on his gum.

You took a deep breath and leaned on the arm of the chair with your arm. “You know my parents right? All of them, my mom and Mark and my dad and Dana?”

“Yeah. I met them last year.”

“Well my mother has become such an uptight bitch since my dad left her and she met Mark. So in recent years, she’s wanted me to quit gymnastics. She has been harassing me about getting a man and settling down and, to quote her, “Stop wasting my time with gymnastics.” To her, being an Olympic gold medalist, is nothing. My real father and Dana are great but, my mother is just so fucking spiteful.”

“But your piece of shit mother isn’t your fault, so why are you taking the blame?”

“I don’t know. My mom is having this uppity society event next week, which I’m supposed to attend, and I don’t even want to think about showing up alone to be ridiculed by my mother all fucking night.” You laughed at how pathetic you sounded explaining the situation. “Which now sounds really fucking pathetic when I’m saying it out loud. Like I live on my own I shouldn’t care what my mom thinks.”

“Well I’d hate it if my parents didn’t accept my passion, but unfortunately I was forced into it and grew to enjoy it. But having a need to impress your parents is something that everyone has, and if you don’t wanna impress your parents then you’re trying to impress someone else. It’s human nature.”

You were shocked Lance was being nice and sympathetic about everything, you didn’t think he was capable of experiencing those emotions.

“Fuck your mom and that fucking asshole Mark. Fuck them both. You’re a fucking Olympic gold medalist and if that isn’t fucking impressive, then nothing will impress them. I relish in the fact that I won gold and silver.” You rolled your eyes. He ALWAYS relished in that. “I worked fucking hard for it, and you have worked hard for it. So fuck them, I don’t know what else to tell you.”

“Thanks… Lance, you’re being oddly nice.”

“I can’t be an asshole all the time, sometimes I change it up.”

You laughed and covered your mouth. “That’s bullshit. You’re always an asshole, there is no ‘mixing it up’ with you. But hell, if this whole coaching thing ends up not working out, you’d be a great comedian. Or prostitute, I mean might as well get paid for everything you fuck.”

“Your real fucking funny aren’t you?”

“I’m just calling it how it is.” You and Lance always bickered back in forth. You guys got along for the most part. “Ok I’m going to leave, but honestly thanks for telling me how it is, I always count on that.”

You stood from your chair and headed towards the door.

“Oh and Y/N.” You turned and looked at Lance who still was half sitting on his desk, arms still crossed. “If you ever feel lonely, and need some comfort. You have my number.” Lance smirked and winked at you causing you to fake gag and turn out of the room.

“In your fucking dreams, Tucker.” You closed the door and headed out of the gym. You tossed your bag in the back seat and got in your car. Lance’s office faced the parking lot and he was standing in the window looking at you. He brought his hand up to be a phone and mouthed “Give me a call” and smirked again before walking away. You started your car and pulled out of the parking lot into the Los Angeles sunset. Your roommate was out of town for the week so you had the apartment to yourself. You decided since you had a dreadful day, you were going to treat yourself to some junk food since you had been eating only 600 calories for the last 3 weeks. You didn’t want to get sick by introducing a bunch of unhealthy foods back into your life, so you just stopped and got some Chinese before heading back to your house. You took a quick shower, and changed into comfortable clothing before heading to your couch and turning on Netflix. You have been binge watching Gossip Girl whenever you found the time, which was never. After 2 or 3 episodes, you had finished your Chinese and already passed out on the couch, ready for training tomorrow, hoping it’d be a better day.

—————————————————————————————————

You pulled your hair back away from your face as you walked into the gym, your bag over your shoulder again. You opened the doors and felt the cool air conditioning it your face. It was a muggy day today. There were a few others in the gym today already working since it was almost noon. You waved hello and headed towards the locker room. Walking past Lance’s office, you saw him standing looking out to everyone in the main area on the phone. You waved as you passed and he nodded his head deep in conversation. You changed into your leotard and shorts and wrapped your wrist. You made sure your hair was tight and walked into the open room and towards the white board in the corner. It had a list of everyone who was training today and what they were supposed to be working on specifically. You were the only veteran gymnast training now, everyone else was working on being new Olympians. There were 3 other girls working on bars and beams today, and 2 guys working with one of the other coaches. The space next to your name was blank, so you just figured you could do whatever. Seeing that you worked on your bars routine for 4 hours yesterday, you wanted to take a break and go to the side room to work on your floor routine. The 3 Olympic standard floor mats were empty, as there was only a hand full of people in the gym today.

You walked to the surround sound speaker and plugged in your phone, going to your Spotify and playing the playlist called, “The Most Beautiful Songs in The World”. This playlist always calmed you and seemed to play into your soul. A song called “What’s Good” by Fenne Lily started playing and you went to the middle of the mat to stretch. Starting with your arms, you swung them around and made sure each joint was ready to support your body weight. After you were comfortable with your arms, shoulders, and neck, you moved onto your legs. First stretch out your feet and calves, you knew your main focal point would be your hamstrings. You had pulled you hamstring your first campaign and it always got sore faster than your other muscles did, but you were cleared to perform after 6 months of physical therapy. You did your 3 splits and lung style stretches to warm up your thighs, hamstring, and your inner thigh. After finishing with a handstand, you were ready to practice. You walked to your phone and put on your routine instrumental.

You went to the corner and took a deep breath, closing your eyes before reopening them and looking at the other corner, imagining yourself sticking the landing and nailing your routine. You took a few steps back and began running. You let your body do what it already knew how to and trusted yourself as you jumped and let your feet leave the mat, only to be replaced by your hands as you propelled yourself off the ground and flipped.

You landed on your feet, for only a moment before pushing yourself up higher for another. You had reached the opposite corner of the mat once your feet hit the ground. You stuck the landing throwing your arms up in a pose, before taking a step back to complete your second run. You did your jump again and took off again, propelling yourself to do a pike.

Once you landed your hands shot back up in a pose, before doing your final run. You ran and did a flip before landing and doing a jumping split.

You did your final few poses and your routine was over. You put your arms down and began focusing on slowing your breathing a bit. You heard clapping from behind and you turned to the door to see Lance standing there smiling.

“That was really fucking good.” He walked towards the mat and you went to turn off your playlist, grabbing your bottle of water and meeting him on the side of the mat.

“Thanks, it’s a new routine so it needs a lot of work still.”

“No. It’s honestly pretty great. Congratulations, I think it’s worth a gold medal kid.”

You beamed at him and sat down, stretching your legs a bit more.

“Do you feel better than yesterday?”

“Yeah I slept pretty good. So, I think that helped.”

“Good. I’m happy, I can’t have my best gymnast injuring herself over her bs family.”

“Yeah, I agree.”

“It just let’s her win.” Lance sat down next to you. “If you wanna annoy her, don’t let what she says get to you. Make it so you could give less than 2 shits what she says. I also have another idea too.”

“And what is that Mister Helpful?”

“Well you said your mom has a charity thing next week right?”

“Yeah?”

“Well what if, I came with you, and pretended that I was your boyfriend so your mom won’t give you shit?”

You choked on the water that you had been drinking. “What?”

“It’ll solely be so you can stop worrying about your mother’s approval, and can focus on trials in 2 weeks.”

“You’re joking right?”

“No. What I’m not good enough to be your fake boyfriend?”

“No, I’d just never fucking date you.”

“You’re acting as if I’m gonna actually try to date you. I don’t do the dating thing.”

“I couldn’t tell.”

Lance stood up, getting annoyed now. “Ok fine, fuck you then. I don’t need to do this. I want you to stop acting like a little bitch, but whatever, be fucking miserable for all I care.” Lance pulled out his phone and started walking away.

“Lance, wait.”

He turned around and smirked. “Yeah?”

“Will you still do it?”

“Maybe, if you get on your knees,” He leaned his head down and looked at you through the tops of his eyes. “and beg.”

“You’re fucking disgusting.”

“Hey, I’m fucking with you. Yes, I’ll still do it, if you’ll cut the shit.”

You smiled and jumped up, hugging him. He was so tall your feet came off the ground. He wrapped his arms around your waist and hugged back. Once you were back on the ground, you looked up at him.

“I’m going to call her and let her know I’ll be bringing my “boyfriend” with to the party.”

“Alright, I’m sure this is going to be,” Lance took a second and rolled his eyes with his hands on his hips. “fun?” His toned laced with sarcasm. You responded with an eye roll as well.

“It was your idea.”

“Don’t remind me. When you’re done run the routine again. I’m going to check on the others.” Lance turned around, popping his gum and walking back into the main room.

@lancefuckrr ( hi you said to tag you, I hope you like it and send me your thoughts. It means so much to me)

anonymous asked:

Do you have any longfic, slowburn, langsty Klance fics that are complete? I especially loved the varelsen fics you've rec'd. Got anything else? :3 Thanks <3

You know a good one….“in stasi-//shot
OK SO! This list isn’t quite as extensive as the other one, but these are some of my top favorites >8^)!!! In no particular order:

never saw you coming by dimpleforyourthoughts has been recc’d already, but it’s still worth mentioning, since it’s very much a slow burn =[,,_,,]:3

On Thin Ice by Minadora is.the Slow Burn of Slow Burns. And Lance is definitely hiding something sensitive that likes to rear its ugly head at very opportune times, aND it’s still ongoing, so if you reeeaaaally like suffering, go here
Actually even if you don’t like suffering, just go here anyways because it’s a really good fic
[Edit: I JUST REALIZED YOU SAID COMPLETE LMAO SORRY]

i am the opposite of amnesia by shizuoh is soososo good,, It’s a hunger games AU, though, and I read through all of it before realizing that haha, it has, A Major Character Death Warning-
That pretty much sums it up 8,^))) read at your own risk

This House Unfinished by boyghosts is actually one of the old and gold ones that I’ve also been procrastinating on making a proper post for..curse you anons and your forcing me to get off my lazy butt >80 //shakes fist
As is probably obvious, I really love this one aaA ;7; it starts out in langst, and continues in langst, and all the while it weaves in these really beautiful cutscenes and plotlines and slow-growing affection, and then
And then it has an open ending
Take of that what you will my friends, I’m going to dust off the abandoned corner of my room and cry about it again

Magic Me Some Love by KaSaPe- If you’re looking for slow burn you gotta go to the chaptered fics amirite, and if On Thin Ice is too good and too painful for you to handle this one’s complete! Featuring fantasy AU, galra Keith, resistance leaders Shiro, Matt, and Pidge, heckin powerful water magician Lance, and more sensitive spot secrets courtesy of said water magician :D
And fluff and a happy ending, so if you read the two before this and need to recover but still, for some strange reason, want langst, here you go

I have to admit, I was not expecting the list to get so long–wELL THEn rescinding my comment on extensiveness, Enjoy!
[Edit #2: I FORGOT THERE WERE TWO MORE FICS I WANTED TO REC FOR THIS ASK–to avoid putting the people who already reblogged this at a disadvantage, I’ll put those up as formal posts >8'0 heads up for that]

Newbie

Title: Newbie 

Pairing: Reader x Peter Parker

Request: Could you do something with Peter Parker where the reader is Flash Thompson’s nice younger sister who is a freshman. Peter asks her out w/o realizing who her sibling is, resulting in Flash being 10x more of a bully to him

Word count: 2,311

A/N: Lots of time skips, I wasn’t quiet sure how to end this so I’m sorry if the ending seems kinda rush/muddy. I did not go through and edit this, so sorry for the typo’s and grammatical errors. 

Tagged: @tomllholland , @manyfandomstohandle , @superheros-and-books , @jor-da-na , @ferls212 , @laryssa-the-jedi , @bubbles2428 , @sylviestars , @jun-gle-cruise , @eabha-no , @quokkatrash 

Originally posted by dailymcugifs


“Flash please don’t leave me! I don’t know where I’m going!” You shouted at your older brother who drifted off with the giant crowd of teenagers in midtown high. “You’ll be ok Y/N, I believe in you!” Flash shouted back making you roll your eyes and stare down at the thin piece of papers in your hands.

Today was your first day in high school and you couldn’t me more scared, older kids surrounded you walking in every which way and when you tried to get their attention to help they would just shrug you off and keep walking. You felt like giving up on trying to find the classroom your first class was in, History.  

You made the trek back into the main office to ask for help on finding where your class was “Hi uh I know I was just here but my brother left me and nobody is willing to point me in the direction of my first class.” The nervous feeling that radiated off you attracted the attention of all the staff in the room, including a boy who’s stood next to you at the same counter grabbing his schedule “Peter, since you’re here could you please take Y/N here to her class?” The boy, Peter, shifted his gaze from the brunette woman behind the counter to you.

“Uh yeah sur-sure, whats your schedule?” He asked while you both shuffled into the hall. You handed him the piece of paper you were holding and watched as his eyes lit up slightly “Wow- wait your a freshman?” The Boy’s brown sparkling eyes met yours “Yeah, why?” you questioned cocking your eyebrow slightly.

“Well it looks like we actually have some classes together.” He examined his schedule once more before his smile widened, “Yeah, we have..” he paused looking back down at both sheets of paper “Chemistry, Gym and uh Geometry.”

You felt yourself blush slightly “Well, I think I have chemistry first.” you gestured toward on the sheet in the boys left hand “Yeah yeah you do.” The boy handed you back your paper “Oh uh I’m-I’m Peter by the way, Peter Parker.” The boy, Peter, offered you a friendly smile as you followed him to your first class of high school. The blush on your face deepened “I’m Y/N Thompson, nice to meet you Peter.” Peter gave you a heart melting smile in return as the both of you entered the classroom.

When lunch finally rolled around you found your brother sitting at a table in the middle of the room so you decided to sit with him and talk to him about your high school experience so far, “Hey.” you cheerfully greater your brother when you took a seat next to him.

“Hey there.” he greeted back giving you a casual side hug and returned to eating his food “So hows High school so far?” he question shoving a handful of chips in his mouth. “Well its been pretty good, I met this guy earlier who helped me get my classes and it turns out we actually have three classes together, thanks for abandoning me by the way.” You nudged your brothers arm jokingly earning a few laughs from the other people at the table. “Hey, I’m sorry I wanted you to have the official high school experience, finding your own classes, being mature and stuff.” Flash shot back at you, you just rolled your eyes, how does finding your own classes make you mature.

You quickly ate the lunch you brought from home and exited the cafeteria making your way to he library, the place Peter said is always the most calm in the school. You already had homework to do, even on the first day. So you took a seat at one of the  5 tables and pulled out your binder from you bag. A seat scrapped the floor by causing you to snap your head up and com in contact with the entrancing brown ones you met earlier in the day. “Hey Y/N.” Peter smiled down at you as he took a seat next to you.

“Hey.” you smiled back before you began your school work “It totally sucks that we already have work.” Peter sighed “Mind if i work with you?” He asked pulling gout his own binder. Your smile grew as you answered the boys question, “Not at all.” you felt your face get hot when your eyes connected with Peters. Its only been a few hours since you met Peter but you could already feel yourself falling deeper and deeper into his amazing world.


A about a month and half has passed and in that time you and Peter have gotten as close as heat to a fire, constantly with each other and if you two weren’t together you were snapchatting, texting or calling each other. You were excepted into his very small group of friends Ned, Michelle and him. But you never told your brother about who you were talking to or hanging out with because you knew how he treated Peter and tried your best to stand up from him whenever Flash talked about about your best friend. All your brother knew was that you had made a few friends and thats how you wanted to keep it until Flash gave up on bullying Peter. And you never told Peter who your brother was, it actually amazed you that he hasn’t found out by now considering he’s one of the smartest guys you knew.

“Hey Y/N?” you heard Peter question from beside you. The two of you were currently at Peters house having a study session in his room. You set your pencil next to you on Peters bed “Yeah?” you sat up and cracked your knuckles.

“I’ve been thinking about this for a little and i-i” Peter lightly sighed running his hands through his hair “I was wondering if you maybe wanted to go out for dinner Saturday?” You laughed slightly at his question “Peter, we always go out for dinner on Saturdays, its literally our tradition.” your eyes made contact with his slightly taking your breathe away, your feeling for the boy always got stronger every time you just looked at him.

“No no i mean like as more than friends.” you saw the worry flash in his eyes as the question fell from his lips. Your heart skipped a beat at hearing those simple words “more than friends” meaning, Peter feels the same way as you… or at least slightly like how you feel.

“Peter,” you paused getting up froth bed and making your way over to him “are you asking me out on a date?” Peter nodded slightly at your question a small blush creeping up his neck.

“Ye-yes I-I am.” The sigh of relief from Peter as you answered caused butterflies to forming your stomach, “Of course I’ll go on a date with you.”


You and Peter had gone on a couple of dates, without your brothers knowledge. Eventually Peter asked you to homecoming promising you the night of your life but disappeared after five minuets of stepping into the hot sweaty mess of teenagers.

After homecoming night Peter had told you about his secret identity, Spiderman and you told him about how you were related to Flash. At first you were agitated that he hadn’t told you earlier but listened to Peter when he told you that he didn’t want you to get hurt because of him. So instead of being overly dramatic about the situation and yelling at him that he needs to stop or he’ll hurt himself really bad one day you convinced Peter to let you help him out by  patching him up after every battle. Which concluded with him coming to your room almost every night sitting on your bed while you tended to his wounds.

“Thank you Y/N, I don’t know what i’d do without you.” Peter smiled as he softly kissed you goodbye and exited through your window swinging from house to house to et back to his apartment.

“Oh Peter Parker.” you sighed sinking down into your soft fluffy bed, your door opened suddenly causing you to jump up from your bed with wide eyes. “Who were you talking to?” your brother asked stepping into your room. “Nobody Flash, please get out.” you gave your brother a deadpanned look, you weren’t taking any of his shit today.

“Y/N I clearly heard you talking to someone and defiantly heard you say "Peter Parker” so whats up?“ Flash flailed his arms in the air. Your breath hitched in your throat, Please don’t catch on, Please don’t catch on. You chanted in your head.

If flash found out about you and Peter he would never leave Peter alone, ultimately Flash would be tormenting Peter even more than now. "Also i’ve noticed you hanging out a lot more with Penis Parker lat-”

“Don’t call him that.” you lowly spoke interrupting your bother “What?” he aside stepping further into your room. “What did you just say?” you lifted your eyes slightly making contact with his “I said,” you let out a shaky breathe “Don’t call him that, his name is Peter.” Flash laughed slightly at you. “Oh wow, ya know I’ve also noticed a lot of this,” flash gestured to you “Sticking up for the nerd.” flashes eyes slightly widened at his thoughts “Oh god Y/N please don’t tell me you have feelings for the guy.” your brothers eyes bore into yours.

You didn’t answer his question hoping he understood what you meant, “Oh dear god, you-you-you can’t be serious!” Flashes voice was growing louder and louder with every word he spoke.

“Flash please calm down. We’ve only gone on a few dates.” Flashes eyes widened more at the flow of words leaving your mouth. Your eyes widened as well and  you clamped a hand over your mouth to stop anymore secrets that could escape.

“You-why-i can’t-” Flash couldn’t get his words out properly as he left your room to think out what you just said.

you had to warn Peter about what happened so you sent him a quick text before heading off to bed and staring at the ceiling with so much regret in your chest. How were you gonna get through this one?


Its been about 2 weeks since Flash found out about you and Peter. And you couldn’t believe the amount of, basically torture Flash was putting Peter through. He had come up with more horrid nicknames, he would constantly tell him how much you didn’t actually want him, which would rile Peter up so much causing him to try and throw punches at your brother and just end up in detention. Flash would tear up Peters homework or steal it and turn it into he teacher as his own, everyday flash would tell Peter that he’s was “nothing more than scum under my foot” and how “My sister deserves so much better than trash like you.”

you felt sick to your stomach hearing about what your brother was doing to Peter and hurt that this was how your brother actually was, a selfish prick who didn’t even respect your decisions.

you finally had enough of Flash if he wasn’t going to respect you on his own, you were gonna make him.

The bell rang ending your 4th period class and you made you way down to the lunch room, you decided to confront your brother as soon as possible and lunch time seemed like the perfect opportunity.

“Flash!” you screamed walking up to his table, he turned around in his seat  and flooded his arms “Well, Y/N so nice to see you.” you set your bag down on the ground next to you and flooded your arms across your chest “Cut the bullshit Flash.” you huffed creasing your eyebrows “I’m sick and tired of the way your treating Peter, my boyfriend.” you saw Ned’s eyes flash behind you quickly, you turned your head around to see Peter walk through the lunch room doors laughing while talking to Ned about something.

“If you don’t respect my decision on who i’m dating, fine. But that doesn’t give you permission to torment them.” you spit turing your gaze back to your brother “I get that you don’t really like Peter and i honestly have no idea why but I disgusted by the way you’ve chosen to treat him and it hurts me seeing my only brother hate the boy i like with all my heart.” tears pricked your eyes as you continued “I just wanted to tell you that if you keep this up,” you paused feeling an arm wrap around true waist, knowing who it was you let out a shaky breathe and continued “Then i know just how much you don’t respect me either.” you turned grabbing you bag from he floor, taking Peters hand and leaving your brother behind in the cafeteria. It felt good to finally get out how you really felt to Flash.

“I’m proud of you.” Peter stopped you int he hallway and engulfed you in his arms. “I’m proud of me too.” you felt a few tears escape from you eyes and fall onto Peters clothes. you pulled away from him slightly and pressed a lightly kiss to his lips.

“you should probably go back and talk it out with your brother though.” Peter whispered onto your lips, “I’ll deal with Flash when I get home, right now i just wanna be with you.”

You were proud of yourself for finally telling Flash off and so happy that you don’t have to hide your relationship with Peter anymore. “Hey at least now we don’t have to hide anything.” Peter laughed kissing you one more time before the bell rang ending lunch and you parted ways.

You felt free, not having to hide your love for Peter anymore felt pretty damn good.

This Is Us- Chapter 18

Operation Lard Head

Catch up on earlier chapters here Chapter 17, Chapter 16, All The Rest




There were moments when Jamie had to literally bite the inside of his cheek to stop the words I love you from slipping off his unguarded tongue.  

If it were up to him, he’d have married her the first morning he woke in her bed. Instinct warned him to go canny.  Claire never discussed her marriage or break up with Frank except in the broadest of terms and that worried him. Jamie sensed the struggle inside of her. He just didn’t know if she was wrestling with a broken heart or her own demons.

They had a couple months to plan, to dream, to just be. He wanted every single day of that time for them, to have her to himself, to become hers.

In the fall, Faith would be transitioning to preschool. Jamie knew that before they picked one that she’d be happy in, they would need have a plan to handle the public aspects of what was going to happen.

There was no question in his mind about amending the birth certificate and he didn’t think in Claire’s either. If anything their relationship solidified their unity of thought. The key point of decision lay in the timing. He delayed the discussion wanting them on solid ground as a couple first.

Claire thought she’d understood what being in the whirlwind of the press once more would be like. Jamie knew different. It was going to be like living in a fishbowl and, with no false modesty, he understood he was a big fish in a small Scottish pond.

For all its salacious aspects, the press coverage on her was relatively tame. She had been the flavor of the week with the press striking then moving on quickly. They might have come back around a few times smelling fresh meat but again, it was hit and run. Jamie garnered a certain amount of coverage all year round and there was no way to escape that fact.

Complicating matters, Slainte was picking up market share faster than projected. Jamie was facing considerable pressure to expand operations to meet demand.

A rival company, originating in France with a product name of Babbelas was attempting a run at Slainte. Jamie had Geneva and Geillis researching both its ingredients and following the money behind it’s development.

On top of that they were having some trouble ensuring consistency of vendor deliveries to keep production schedules as planned. The pressure cooker was about to heat up. He could feel it coming.

Jamie dragged his mind back to the conference room table where he was meeting with Murtagh, Fergus and the rest of creative.

“The concept tested well across nations in the focus groups.” Murtagh told him.

“I’m not surprised, ye did a good job, rehearsals tomorrow?” Jamie verified.

“Aye, we’ve plenty of space in the lunch area and it’s not too complicated. I’ll hold our wee camera, it’s not exactly commercial quality but good enough and we have a bit of editing software for a rough cut. I’ll be able to show you those by the end of the week in case we need to do any fine tuning. We booked the studio with their in-house crew directing and doing the sound for the top of next week. We’ve time enough to get it right before the pros take over.”

“Operation Lard Head?”

“I canna help it, the name just stuck.” Murtagh smiled.  

******

By mid-morning on the following day Jamie had already put out two fires, metaphorically speaking. Mrs. Fitz had been just as frantic as he and was giving him the old rolled eye from the inner window that let him look out onto the rest of the floor.

Now they were having a problem with their Osha supplier. It was one of the special herbal ingredients that made the product work so well.

But it was hard to grow in controlled settings and could only be cultivated in the wild in certain parts of Canada and the United States. Their last delivery was low, even  factoring the seasonal ebb they’d been warned about this month. If their next delivery produced similarly low numbers, they would end up short during this critical production period.

Jamie’d spent the last twenty minutes trying to chase down the head of the supply company that was giving him the runaround. He left messages three places offering to meet in person.

Half the team was working on tracking down an alternative Osha supply but right at the moment, this man was his only source of supply. The rehearsals were scheduled to begin in a half an hour and that had been occupying the rest of the team.   

Jamie’s skin prickled just then and he looked up completely astonished to see Claire, coat half on, cheeks red with exertion, Faith in tow, striding around the corner with Faith’s purple backpack in hand. Mrs. Fitz was just about to launch into gatekeeper mode when he leaned his head out of the doorway.

“What’s wrong?” He called out as he reached out to hoist Faith up and ushered Claire through his door, closing it firmly on Mrs. Fitz’s openly curious stare.

Faith gave him a loud smack on the lips in greeting and he smiled even as he checked her out. She seemed fine to him.

“Jamie, I’m so sorry. I know, I wasn’t scheduled to go in today and the daycare is closed for a professional development day. But a man I operated on two days ago needs to go back under It’s a tricky procedure. I really have to be there. The Crookes just left to go visit their daughter. I misplaced my phone and couldn’t call you in advance—-”

He put Faith down on the floor and his arms around her.  “Shhh,” he whispered as he kissed her forehead and hugged her briefly.

“It’s fine, Sassenach.” Jamie wasn’t sure how he would reorganize his day, but there was nothing else to be done.

“I know it’s dreadful timing. I feel awful about just dropping in like this. I packed a few toys, her iPad and a lunch.”  Claire apologized again.

“Go, we’ll make do. Tend to yer duties.” He reassured her, smiling down at Faith, “the lassie and I will be fine won’t we mo nighean?” Faith nodded up at her Da with an answering smile of her own.

The last thing Claire needed was to expend precious time and energy worrying about him or Faith. She needed to focus on her surgery, especially if it was delicate enough they’d called her in on her day off.

Claire reminded Faith to be a good girl as Jamie opened the door to let her go. She kissed his cheek with another word of thanks and started down the hall. She brushed by Geneva on her way called out rushed hellos and disappeared around the corner.

Mrs Fitz was just about to launch into the third degree when Geneva cut her off, striding into Jamie’s office.  

“Is Claire ok?” She asked puzzled at seeing Dr. Beauchamp at Slainte.

She’d thought Jamie was dating her but he’d never said as much and she hadn’t seen Claire since Quarter Day.

Her eyes spotted Faith standing a little behind Jamie.

“Oh, goodness, what a pretty girl. Is she Claire’s?”

“Aye.” Jamie said, it wasn’t a lie, just not the whole truth.

“She is really quite impressive, isn’t she?  It’s a bit intimidating knowing there are women like Claire in the world. I can barely get out of my own way most days and she is a doctor and a mother? Well, she at least gives me hope that it can be done!” Geneva smiled as did Jamie. Geneva was crazy for children, always had been.  

Geneva knelt down on the carpet in front of her.

“I’m Geneva, what’s your name?”

“Faith.”

“That’s a lovely name. How—–”

Jamie wanted to cut off the cross examination from his legal eagle and interrupted the conversational flow.

“Did ye need something Eva?” Geneva was momentarily distracted but did look up, suddenly remembering that she had come in on a mission. She reluctantly rose to her feet.

“Yes, actually, the Osha supplier says he’ll meet with you but he’s got a plane to catch later today and he’ll be out of Scotland for the next month. You’ll need to leave in fifteen or twenty minutes to get to him on time.”

Iffrin!” Jamie exclaimed.

“I know but at least I convinced him to meet with you before he left. We still don’t have Geillis’s analysis of the Babbelas product. The interruptions in deliveries might be unrelated, but if they are squeezing the market, we have to be prepared. You already know how difficult it is to find reliable sources for it. We have to keep our current supplier happy.” Geneva smiled with some sympathy as Jamie ran his hand roughly through his hair.

“Aye, Eva, I thank ye for setting it up. I’ll let you get back to your day.”

This was a very pointed dismissal and Geneva could not ignore the command. She gave one last lingering look at Faith and went back to her own office.

Well, no help for it, ten minutes later, Jamie dropped Faith off with Ian.

“Uncan!” Faith exclaimed, wide grin of greeting.

“Neath!” He gathered her in a huge hug.

Murtagh was passing by as Faith started chanting Da, Da, Da.  He quickly looked over his shoulder as Angus and Rupert rounded the corner and scooped Faith up to distract her while Jamie extracted himself and made ready to leave.

“MurTagh, Tagh, Tagh, lass.” he said emphatically, hoping to disguise her vocalizations as Jamie walked out of the office. He needn’t have bothered as Angus and Rupert were wrapped up in an argument over who was going to say which lines.

************

The group had made good progress running through the various ads targeting the expansion into European markets through the United LQ deal inked earlier in the year. Murtagh was reluctant to continue going over lines.

Angus was a natural, not giving a care to the presence of the camera but Rupert was clearly not comfortable in front of a lens. He would look at the camera in such a way that made the viewer acutely aware that he was ACTING! That wouldn’t do at all.

In order to break Rupert of his self-consciousness, Murtagh decided to project the feed onto two monitors mounted in the lunch area so they could see themselves and just let them talk as they normally would, no thought to the camera. He hoped it would desensitize the experience for Rupert.  

Rupert had dressed in jeans and a dark green Slainte t-shirt.

Angus, on the other hand, collected off beat t-shirts and today’s choice was a brown tee that read:

All Mushrooms Are Edible…Once.

This one courtesy of MoTown Mushrooms, a small specialty farm in Vermont.

The two of them were arguing the finer points of why Spongebob looked like a kitchen sponge even though his parents had been free form sea sponges resembling  loofahs.

“I’m just saying it’s a recessive gene, that’s all, like a bairn having blue eyes even when the parents dinna have them.” Rupert was explaining.

Behind him, Murtagh heard a sharp cry of alarm and then Ian’s unmistakable gait as he hurried along the wood floor toward Jamie’s office.

Remembering that Faith was their unexpected guest for the afternoon, Murtagh left the camera rolling on it’s tripod and pivoted to lend a hand.

“Here, Mrs. Fitz, let me just wrap the towel and hold tight, wee bit of pressure.” Ian was saying as he wrapped the hand in a kitchen towel and held it up and over her head for her.

Murtagh saw Mrs. Fitz sitting in her office chair with long faint streaks of blood running from hand to wrist.

“What’s amiss?” he asked.

“The letter opener, the one shaped like a dirk?” Glenna was saying, her eyes still wide and pain-filled. “It’s as sharp as a wee stabbie, slipped and cut my palm.”

Several minutes passed and still they couldn’t stem the bleeding. By this point Faith had come out of Ian’s office to see what was happening.

“I think we need to take her to the clinic, she’ll need stitches.” Ian confirmed as he lowered the dish towel the third time to verify that the bleeding wan’t stopping.

“My auto is a stick shift. I don’t think I can manage to—”

“No, dinna fash, Glenna, Ian will drive ye there and then take ye home in his car, we’ll get yours to you later tonight when we check on ye at home.” Murtagh kissed her cheek lightly. “I’ll tell Himself what happened. Ian I’ve got Faith, ‘tween Fergus and me she’ll be fine. Just make sure Glenna is seen to, aye?”

And with that, they managed to gather Glenna’s belongings up and get her down to the parking area and off to the clinic.

When Murtagh returned Egg Head and Lard Bucket had moved on to discuss the relative merits of Scottish industry in the world.

Fergus, pragmatic to the core, decided he couldn’t be two places at once. He needed to be in the lunch area observing the dynamic duo, taking notes, catching anything they said that might be used in later ads and needing to tend to the lass.

Well, so. The lass was hungry, she had a lunch box, they had a lunch area, he needed to be in the lunch area ergo….He and Faith sat a bit to the side at a small table  slightly off-camera. Geneva had just placed her lunch on the same table and was moving the chair out to sit down to join them. Faith was sitting on a few large directories, a makeshift booster seat but just as captivated by the entertainment in front of her as everyone else.  

In fact, now that he’d taken the time to notice, Murtagh could see several other people from the company engaged in similar activities of eating and smiling along with Angus and Rupert as they bantered with one another.  

Angus was moving his hands about as he interjected, “and I’m saying thanks to Scotland, the world has whisky, penicillin and insulin, telephones and faxes, golf and bicycles, postage stamps, television, the steam engine and—–” his voice rose up in dramatic tones, “the cure for the common hangover!”

“Weel, so we do but that’s mostly self defense.  Did you know we hold the record for the longest running hangover in the world?” Rupert informed him.

“Go on wi’ ye?” Angus wasn’t actually surprised by this fact.

“Lasted four weeks.” Rupert confirmed. “Ken, it seems as if we do have a lot of words for drunk in Scotland.”

“Ye think ye have good recall of them?” Angus had a familiar, speculative gleam in his eye.

“Better than you!” Rupert confirmed, just warming up. Doing this sober would make for a change.

“Oh? Let’s hear it then, I’ll give ye a fiver if ye can break my record of 30.” Angus bet but then added, “Pub conditions, aye? Thirty seconds, no repeats and in alphabetical order.”

Rupert grunted. He moved his head from side to side, cracking his neck. The lunchroom was crowded with colleagues drawn by the internal feed from the monitors and money was starting to change hands along the sidelines.

Angus looked at him, “Ready?” Rupert nodded. “Ok, 3, 2, 1 go!”

“Badgered, banjaxed, bladdered, bleezin’, blootered, buckled, cabbaged, goosed, guttered, hawf-cut, hammered, lashed, leathered, mangled, minced, mingin’, oot yer tree, pished as a fart, rat arsed, reekin’, rubbered, sloshed, steaming, stocious, tanked up, warped, wasted, wellied.”

The crowd broke into cheers and applause.

“Oh, 28– too bad ye just missed it.” Angus announced.

A smattering of nos! And money changing hands once again, a reckoning for the winners and losers in the crowd.

Rupert had worked up a sweat but his competitive spirit was awakened.

“Two for one ye cannot do better.” Rupert challenged.

“Yer on. Prepare to weep, my lad. Ready?” Angus widened his stance, danced a little like a boxer entering the ring.

“Without repeating any of mine.” Rupert reminded him.  

“Like I need to use yours? Ok and….Go: awa wi it, Bernard Langered,  disguised, etched, fecked, foo, footered, howlin’, legless,  jaiked up, mad wae it, mashed, minkit, monkey full, mortal, nicely irrigated, oot the game, pie-eyed, paralytic, pickled, plastered, rendered, ruined, stewed, stottin, steamboats, tooteroo, torry-ed, tramlined, troubled,  zombied!” A huge cheer broke out. Angus had defended his crown matching his record!

Rupert laughed and congratulated him. They pulled up two chairs, still on camera and sat down.

It was clear Rupert had long since forgotten about the lens and was perfectly at home now. He pulled out a ten, handing it and a cold can of Slainte to Angus.

At this Rupert tapped his can of Slainte against Angus’s and said, “Slanj!”

Angus pulled his can back last minute.

“Oi! Whatcha doing? Ye don’t say slanj that’s what a bawheeded twonk or an Englishman on holiday says!” He looked truly put out.

“Stop being a tosser!” Rupert retorted.

“I mean it. If yer no’ going to say it right I’m no going to stand wi’ ye on the telly.” Angus declared.

“Christ man, the wheels turnin’ but the hamster’s long deid.” Rupert shook his head.

“It’s slahn-ja-va, no’ slanj. And ye put the accent on the wrong end!” Angus insisted.

“Ye witless bawbag, that’s what I said, slanj.” Rupert went again to clink the soda cans.

“Have ye no pride, man? That’s no’ a proper toast, and ye dinna ken how to clink the can proper either.” Angus was disgusted.

“Yer being a twatwaffle.” Rupert told him.

“Ye clink the top of the can and the bottom of the can for a proper toast.” Angus informed him.

“Says who?” Rupert was genuinely curious.

“Me granny, that’s who. Always, tops and bottoms. Even with the wine glasses. Like so–” at this Angus demonstrated, clinking first the top rim and then the bottom of the can and repeating, “Tops and bottoms! Now, you give ‘er a go.” He encouraged.

Rupert looked askance at him. Angus nodded and Rupert drew in a breath.

“Aye, weel, as Homer Simpson says,

‘To alcohol! The cause of – and solution to – all of life’s problems.’”

Then Rupert tentatively reached his can over to Angus and clinked, “Tops and bottoms!”

“Hey– that’s no’ good. Ye need a better toast than that!” Angus admonished.

“Why?” Rupert asked to Angus’s deep sigh.

Angus shook his head so the back of his hair swung free of its thong. He cleared his throat and held up his can, seeing others gathered at the tables raise their drinks to join in the toast.

“He is not drunk, who from the floor,

Can rise again and drink some more;

But he is drunk who prostrate lies,

And cannot drink, and cannot rise!

Tops and bottoms!”

At that he got many around the room clinking tops and bottoms of their improvised drinks be they in glasses and cans and bottles.  Rupert was grinning, enjoying the opportunity to watch Angus in his element, and stone cold sober at that.

Out of the corner of his eye, Rupert saw Faith tentatively approach with her juice box in hand. He smiled at her.

Murtagh was about to run forward and pull her back, though what he would do with her he didn’t know, everyone else was gathered in the lunchroom and, no fool Faith, she wanted to be near the action.

He let out a small cry of alarm when Geillis reached her hand out to him from behind. He hadn’t even heard her approach. She was carrying a thick folder, no doubt some kind of analytic report for Jamie.  

“Whose child is that?” She asked staring. “I swear I have seen that hair before.” This said in a speculative tone.

“Ah, that is Faith, she’s Claire’s daughter. Claire had an emergency and Jamie offered to cover but he’s meeting with the Osha supplier.” Fergus supplied from behind them.

They all stood round the camera watching the monitors. Some people are naturally more photogenic through a lens, Murtagh thought, and Faith was luminous.

Her pink cheeks and bright green jumper set her skin and hair off beautifully. Every eye was on her and the conversational hum of the room seemed to quiet.

“Oh, apple?” Rupert was asking Faith as she held up the box for his inspection.

Rupert gently touched his can to her juice box, “Cheers!”

He made to clink tops and bottoms with her, Faith complied but had an odd look on her face.

“That’s no’ what my Da says.” Faith informed him.

Murtagh felt his heart literally stop in his chest. Praying that Rupert would be his usual un-curious self he chanted please dinna ask in his head over and over.

It was now completely silent in the room.

“Oh?” Rupert’s only response.

“He says lang time deid.” Faith announced.

“Aye, lass that’s an old one, right enough.” Angus put in just as Faith reached her juice out to tap Rupert’s can once more.

Just then Angus let out an enormous burp, surprising Rupert into releasing the loudest fart Murtagh had ever heard. Both sounds amplified by the microphones they were still wearing.

Not missing a beat a tiny, delighted voice squeaked out into the silence.

“Tops and bottoms!”

To the raucous delight of the crowd who all toasted that one.

“What the hell are ye doing!” Jamie hissed from right behind Murtagh causing the man to jump ten feet off the ground in fright.

Were his compatriots at Slainte trying to give him a heart attack?

Murtagh noticed that Jamie hadn’t yet registered Geillis’s presence, and he wasn’t sure whether Jamie had noticed how packed the lunch area was.

Murtagh quickly grabbed his arm,  nodding in an exaggerated way at Fergus indicating he needed to corral Faith as quickly as possible, as he shoved Jamie out of the doorway and back toward his office.

Jamie backed down as soon as he saw Fergus moving toward Faith and allowed himself to be borne back. When they were safely in his office, with Faith and the door closed, Murtagh filled him in on what had happened with Mrs. Fitz and Ian.

“The truth is I wasna focused on the wee lassie, Angus and Rupert had gotten going and it was like the floor show at a Vegas casino. Everyone was caught up in it.”

“I ken, it’s fine, Murtagh.” There was no point in getting upset. Jamie sat Faith on his lap and pulled out some sticky notes and colored pencils for her to play with while she sat with him at his desk.

“Even if some suspect, and I don’t why anyone would, no one here would breathe a word. They are loyal, we are a family.” Fergus reminded them.

Jamie looked one to the other.

“It will come out anyway, at some point. My only concern is that Claire feel herself ready for it, that it no’ come as a surprise. She had some bad experiences before with press.” Jamie explained.

“She is right to be concerned.” Fergus agreed. “It could make things hard for Faith in school or with friends.” Seeing Jamie’s stricken face he quickly added, “But she’ll adjust with time and be fine.”

Just then Geillis knocked on the door, Jamie beckoned her in with a wave of his hand as he nodded for Murtagh and Fergus to go, thanking them for watching her.

Geillis rarely sat for meetings and this one was no exception. She dropped the folder on his desk and began pacing but her sharp eyes watched as he took in the contents of her report.  

“Not a duplicate of our formula.” He observed.

“True, I think the combination of herbs is quite standard but there is an ingredient that I can’t unmask. The analysis isn’t exact, it breaks things down but doesn’t necessarily tell me each combination that made up the formula they are using.”

“Our Osha supplier swears he isna selling to them, do ye believe him?” Jamie asked.

Geillis laughed, “I wasn’t there, you were, you tell me?”

Jamie gestured to the report, “According to this, the answer is no.”

“Not for that specific product. But you can buy an ingredient and compound the raw material with another and create something that masks itself in the testing.”

She looked thoughtfully at him. “But you know, if you wanted to, you could interfere with the supply chain of a competitor just for the hell of it. What would stop someone from buying it up to choke off availability and just holding it for a time, disrupting the production of a competitor even if they themselves don’t need the ingredient? They can create chaos and later on can resell the product if they don’t need it to recoup the money they spent, meanwhile their competition is weakened.”

“Christ, ye are a devious wee thing!” Jamie said, not without admiration. “And if ye wanted to pay them back in kind, what would ye do?”

“I would hit them sideways, but not in the way you are thinking.” She said.

He raised his brows.

“They will expect it, you see. And to be honest, based on my testing there is nothing unique or even proprietary about their formula. It would be a waste of time and money to try and create a similar problem for them. You need to find a different pressure point.” She mused. “What has Geneva dug up on them?”

“Nothing yet, she’s still chasing the subcorps down through Nevis and the Caymans. There are several layers of subsidiaries to peel away.” Jamie was frustrated.

“No one is that good at hiding, something will turn up. In the meantime, we need to focus on ensuring our suppliers are delivering on time and in the amounts we need. I can reformulate a little bit using what we have on hand without impacting effectiveness, the taste might be a little different but not enough that a normal consumer would notice.” She offered.

“Do what ye can.” Jamie decided, taking another look through the report.  Geillis’s back was to him, looking over the floor.  

Just then Faith piped up, “Park?” Jamie half heard her. “Pease?”

“Hmm? Aye, mo nighean. Let me just finish up.” He said distractedly.

Geillis half turned to him, “Shall I leave you to it?”  

“Aye, thank ye, Geillie, I’ll catch up wi’ ye tomorrow.” Jamie said as he maneuvered around Faith to return the folder to Geillis as she was exiting the door.

Jamie had to fire off a few emails, update Geneva on his conversations with the vendor and return a half dozen calls, one of which was to Ian. He had just dropped Glenna off at home, four stitches and some pain meds but she was feeling fine. Geneva and Fergus offered to take care of Glenna’s car.  Everything else he needed to tend to could wait until tomorrow.

“Ready, lass?” He asked as soon as Faith had finished packing everything back in her bag.

“Yes, Da! Park and ducks!” She urged, pulling him along by his hand.


Life is Strange: Before the Storm (Episode 1)

I’ve spent so much time discussing this prequel over the past few months, it’s a bit tricky to try and sum up things into something readable. As lengthy as this post is, there’s plenty of details I have to let go of. I’d like to lay out my biggest pros, cons, and a bit of commentary on how I feel about its very conception and potential intent, along with some casual predictions.

I was very critical of this project from the moment it was leaked, but I quickly grew to support Deck Nine, the studio developing the game, because it was easy to see how passionate and thoughtful they were being. Makes sense, right? The sort of dev team who would want to take on a Life is Strange story would probably be the sort to be mindful of just how delicate such an undertaking is. Square-Enix, however, gradually frustrated me more and more, and their choices and actions with this entire project kept me on my guard all summer. With the first episode released, I can confirm my feelings about both companies’ involvement haven’t changed – I’m still very supportive of Deck Nine, and I’m still rather frustrated and confused with Square-Enix.

This first episode helped prove to me to that the developer definitely does have their heart in the right place, and has the ability to realize the same kind of potential one might expect from a follow up to such a special game. I have my concerns, but to be honest, most of them have arisen from Square-Enix’s questionable setup to this project and the premise of the game itself bothering me on a core level.

Keep reading

ronan ‘oh my god im so in love with adam parrish what is happening to me’ lynch
  • idc what u say ronan honestly gets BUTTERFLIES IN HIS STOMACH every time adam enters the room
  • yes its true u heard it here folks; stubborn tough angry ronan lynch gets Butterflies from sweet charming studious adam parrish
  • and when adam talks to him and lets his henrietta accent slip in ????? oh shit Oh McFreakin Shit thats the end of ronan lynch rest in pieces
  • sometimes it’ll just be him and adam at monmouth or st. agnes when everyone else is who knows where, and it’ll be all normal and casual for adam but ronan’s heart is thumping out of his chest and his hands are shaking and oh my god what is happening to me
  • ronan is probably the first person to tell adam he loves him. i dont care if its before or after they get together, in a seemingly platonic way or known romantic way, but its happening
  • like, adam knows his friends love him, know they’d die for him, of course, but ronan is the first person to actually vocalize all these things to him. he tells him how loved and important he is and oh god, adam, please dont die, for me i wouldn’t survive without you, i’ve loved you for ages, please adam—
  • give me desperate and vulnerable ronan lynch who’s aching all over and pours his heart out to adam, can barely even look him in the eye because he loves him so much it Hurts
  • HIS HANDS !!!!!! THOSE DAMN HANDS ADAM PARRISH U MONSTER WHO ALLOWED YOUR HANDS TO BE SO BEAUTIFUL WHO ALLOWED YOUR FINGERS TO BE SO LONG AND SLENDER 
  • u wanna know why ronan isnt doing so well in his classes ??? huh ?? u wanna Know ??? ? i’ll tell u why its because he spends every damn class period staring. at. adam’s. hands.
  • “ronan did u memorize the latin vocab?”
  • hell fuckin no he did not he memorized the shape of adam parrish’s hands thats what he did
  • adam writing/taking notes is its own pure form of art ok trust me on this 100% ronan lynch approved
  • ronan’s life motto: ‘talk shit (about adam parrish), get hit (by me)’
  • ok but really
  • ronan honestly loves adam so much adam’s like some sort of beacon to him, some sort of hope and happiness and light and everything about him makes ronan believe in religion as long as that religion includes adam parrish
  • ronan would follow adam into the deepest pits of hell he’d do anything for him if adam even gave the slightest notion of wanting something
  • he dreams him stuff he needs all the time but w/out adam knowing?? like if he notices adam broke his pencil in class by accident, guess which aglionby student with a henrietta accent has a new pack of pencils in his bag the next day
  • even the smallest things tho ??? like razor blades or new shoelaces. ronan is the Official™ provider of Things That Make Adam’s Life Less Difficult Than It Already is
  • i bet ronan lies awake in his bed at night wondering if a boy like adam parrish could ever love him back
  • i bet he can’t even think about adam going away for college and leaving him behind, not seeing him everyday or getting him to laugh and do stupid things with him 
  • :( what a fuckin nerd
  • ronan is such a Mean Tough Guy until he’s around adam and then he turns into Soft Needy Puppy
  • disgusting. filth
  • DO YALL REMEMBER HOW RONAN WAS MEAN TO BLUE IN TRB BECAUSE HE WAS JEALOUS OF HER RELATIONSHIP WITH ADAM !!!
    !!!!!!!!!!! EN D ME!
  • HES TOTALLY THE JEALOUS ONE IN THE RELATIONSHIP HE WANTS ADAM (and his hands whoops) ALL TO HIMSELF ALL THE TIME
  • ok listen. i dont know how when or why but sometimes ronan just gets really affectionate and lowkey clingy and will just get a sharp dose of nostalgia when he sees adam in the kitchen or something and be like ‘how did i get so lucky’
  • and he’ll go up to adam from the side (never behind, he doesnt want to make adam jump or flinch) and gently wind his arms around adam’s waist and bury his face in adam’s neck
  • and adam’s hands will come up to ronans back and they’ll just stand there holding each other like the gross ass nerds they are
  • before they get together ronan PINES. and i mean like, hard.
  • ronan will be bouncing his knee or some shit and adam will put his hand on his knee to get ronan to stop and ronan literally just freezes. 
  • but also :(( sometimes ronan will pull back because he doesnt want to overwhelm adam
  • like, adam will grab his shoulder or something to get his attention and ronan will pull away as if he’s been burned and oh god he doesnt think these things through, does he, because he’d do anything not to see that look of rejection and confusion on adam’s face, and all he wants to do is jump on him and kiss him but he cant
  • ronan worships every little thing about adam. all of his quirks and habits, his likes and dislikes. ronan knows everything just by listening to adam and observing him
  • ADAM LOVES TO LIE WITH HIS HEAD IN RONAN’S LAP AS RONAN COMBS HIS FINGERS THROUGH HIS HAIR DO NOT TEST ME ON THIS
  • he knows adam can fend for himself and doesnt need to be protected but there will always be some small part of him that will go to any lengths to keep him from ever getting hurt and keeping him out of danger
  • ronan always has to make sure adam is okay. always. if they’re leaving cabeswater or something and they’re all walking back to the pig to drive home, and adam is looking particularly worn out and distressed, ronan will discreetly walk up to him and just be like ‘u ok parrish?’ and its not until adam gives him a teeny tiny smile and nods that ronan is satisfied
  • everything adam does is just amazing to ronan. every little thing. so precious and heartwarming and it makes him so dizzy because how can he be this in love 
  • and how can someone so radiant love a mess like him
  • but he does, and thats all that matters
Ok folks!

This is a super hastily written and barely edited ending to this, with just a little ta-kill-ya thrown in for Cinco de Mayo. :)

*************************

Mulder stepped out into the post holiday chill and proceeded to hike it home, to hell with the cab, he just needed to get out of here. He adjusted the collar of his over coat  to cover his neck. No need though, really, the flush of embarrassment that had flooded his cheeks was plenty enough to keep him warm. Damnit! Stupid stupid stupid. What the hell were you thinking?! Great. Monday’s gonna be fu-

“Mr. Mulder? Wait!” The unfamiliar call stopped him just long enough for Charlie to catch up. Charlie stood just about Mulder’s height, with a well-trimmed goatee and shoulder length, thick strawberry blonde hair kept into a neat ponytail, and a set of very familiar crystal blue eyes. Professor, Mulder assumed. He’d been so busy answering Charlie’s enthusiastic questions earlier, he’d hadn’t gotten much time to learn about Scully’s youngest brother much.

“Listen, sorry I-“ Mulder began.

“No, no, it’s fine. Bill’s an ass. I just uh, wanted to apologize for my brother and assure you there’s no hard feelings. At least on my end.”

Mulder would’ve been touched by the man’s offer had he not been in such a hurry to make his exit.

“S’ok. Really. She’s his sister, I get it. I really do.” He extended a hand, hoping to bring the conversation to a close. “It was nice to meet you, maybe we can do it again some other time.” Charlie brought a hand out from his leather bomber and gave Mulder one firm shake. “Sounds like a plan. I’m going to get Bill home, you take care.”

Mulder nodded quickly and turned, attempting to resume his get away.

“Mulder!!”

Damnit. Shit. Fuck.

“Mulder wait!” He froze, unable to blow her off so publicly or pretend to not hear her. She strolled past Charlie on his way back into the bar, stopping only to squeeze his arm and kiss his cheek. She nodded something unintelligible, and Charlie made his departure with a quick hug.

Scully trotted up next to him pulling her wool london fog tighter around her frame, tiny puffs of steam marking each warm breath as her gate became more and more purposeful.

Here it comes.

But it didn’t. Once she got to him, it was clear she hadn’t really thought much about what to say. Her eyes pleaded wth him for answers, tiny lines of confusion marking her inner brow. Her irises flitted back and forth, searching his own for answers.

“Mulder what are you doing? It’s freezing out here and its at least 3 miles to your place,” ah the old stand by. Substitute practicality for emotion.  Good ol Scully, maybe shed let him off the hook after all, “Come on, she shivered, “let’s get a cab.”

Let’s. Let us. *Us*

His heart thudded wildly in his chest, and somehow, somewhere he found his voice.

“No.”

“No?” She looked at him incredulously, clearly shocked and more than a little annoyed.

“No, Scully. I—I think I’d like to keep walking.” Why was he saying this?  Stop this, you idiot. He told himself. She’s right and you know it.

And then the look. The chin scrunched and her eyes spat at him, “Suit yourself.”

As she turned, the wiser part of his brain won over and he called to her “Wait! Wait. Shit. I’m sorry. Look, there’s another place, Mickey’s..uh…it’s just down here. Why don’t we duck in there for a bit.” He spoke to the cracks in the sidewalk, unable to meet her gaze.

“Okay Mulder.” Her tone was weary.

He nodded his head in the direction of the next stop.

Mickey’s was quieter, darker, rougher. No crystal or uniform, just a middle aged man with a middle aged paunch and a middle aged hairline. Seated at the bar Mulder nodded to the bartender and held up a finger.

“What’ll it be?”

“Tequila. Two please.”

“Mulder are you ok?” Nope. Not off the hook.

“Yea, yea just…” he downed his shot and swiped at the remnants of lime stinging his bottom lip, chapped already from the cold, “shit. I’m sorry, Scully. For everything. I knew better than to–

"Don’t, Mulder. Don’t you dare.” Her words carried a vague threat, but her voice trembled, just slightly enough for only him to notice, “shit,” she mimicked, “give me that.” She downed hers, forgoing any salt or lime without even so much as a grimace. She sucked in a breath, and then seemed to gaze into, or past the floor. A slow grin crept its way across her face and Mulder wasn’t sure whether to be elated or terrified, because she looked slightly hysterical. And then she giggled. Giggled. Hiccupy. Girlish even. 

His heart resumed its thudding.

A small smile remained on the downslope of her delirium and she shook her head ruefully. “I’ve never considered myself a vain person Mulder,” she began, choosing her words, “Missy..” he held his breath at the mention of her late sisters name and he kicked himself for being grateful when she couldn’t elaborate. “I always placed my value in my intelligence, my hard work. My achievements were, and still are, my measuring stick, of sorts.” Mulder briefly considered a height comment and then thought better of it.

“When I was first diagnosed…” again the grin appeared..“you know what my first thought was?" 

He found himself unable to speak, but he shook his head, urging her to continue.

"I thought…my hair. I’m going to lose my hair.” She shook her head and eyed her empty shot glass. Her voice sounded so far away. “So silly, really.”

“Scully–” again she cut him off.

“What you said tonight..” her fingers stroked the rim of the glass slowly, thoughtfully…and before he knew it she was gripping his tie and giving him an impossibly soft, slightly open-mouthed kiss, her tounge barely grazing his upper lip. God. So soft. So sweet, even with the bitter tang of tequila and red wine left on her tongue. His head began to swim and he could just barely feel the raspy moan leaving his throat. By the time could register what had happened enough to respond she’d started to pull away, but he caught her waist, fisting her coat possessively to pull her back in and cup her jaw gently, opening his mouth to hers to kiss her fully as well, just once. When they parted their foreheads met, a kind of kiss all its own. She chuffed.

“Thank you Mulder. I…I needed to hear that tonight, more than you know.”

Her name came out on the end of the breath he hadn’t known he was holding, "Scully-“ 


Her hand to his chest brought his eyes to hers. For the second time tonight they shimmered with fresh tears, and he felt his own eyes start to sting and throat begin to tighten.

"Please take a cab home, Mulder. It’s cold out. I’ll see you on Monday.”

With a palm to his cheek and an impossibly tender look on her face, she slid from the stool and out of the bar. It occurred to him finally that she’d never even taken off her coat. All Mulder could do was stare after her, dumbstruck. When he turned back toward the bar, it’s patron huffed, "What the hell are you grinning at?”

Fin 

Im trying to clean up my half finished fic folder lol. Here’s a thing about Ichabod and Abbie escaping the Underworld, written when we all thought Abbie was chilling with Hades somewhere Queenin’ it up and shit LOL.


Straight Ahead

////




The King of the Underworld was sort of a prick. Abbie thought this but would never say it out loud, fearing he had ears everywhere. This was his domain after all. But she thought it furiously.

Only a prick would “Eurydice” her like this, not letting her look at the face she’d been aching to see for so long. But at least he let her leave. There was that. But still the rules remained; If Ichabod even turned to look at her she would stay here, forever.

She tightened her grip on his large hand, her heart jumping when he squeezed back with his elegant fingers, lightly calloused from a life of taking up arms against threats.

They travelled for some time in relative silence, each wanting to say everything to each other but not knowing where to start.

Abbie had missed him terribly. She missed his self righteous rants, the way his forehead wrinkled and his eyes widened and oh my god his eyebrows…she could wax on and on about how much she missed the stiff arch of his thick brows raised high on his face as he complained.

Crane was unusually quiet now that she thought about it. She usually couldn’t get him to shut up. Was this really him? Maybe Hades was fucking with her. She expressed this idea to Crane and he echoed her sentiment.

“What do you propose we do about this Lieutenant ?”

She considered thoughtfully for a moment and then said, “Tell me something only I would know. That’s how I figured out the Fake You from the Real You when I was trapped in Purgatory.”

“Would you like to go first?”

“Nah, you go. I have to think of something first.”

“As you wish…Oh for God’s sake!”

Ichabod swiped at a hell beast, stabbing it through with a sword made of very hard-to-procure Stygian Iron, never once letting go of her hand. Abbie was impressed. She was also a bit aroused too, if she was honest. She tamped down hard on her bottom lip, trying to put away such thoughts for a more suitable time and place.

Ichabod took a moment to gather himself and replace his sword in its sheath before they began walking again.

“You wash your hair on Sundays and you always wear a ratty New Edition shirt, that I’ve tried many a time to get rid of…”

“I KNEW you tried to throw it away! “Mistake” my ass!”

“That frock has every manner of hole and bleach stain on it. I do not know why you insist on keeping it.”

“Exactly because it’s so messed up. I don’t have to care about it getting ruined because it’s already ruined” she laughed at his low grumbling.

“Ok…my turn…” Abbie thought a moment, “Oh! You sing Beyonce songs while you shower,” Abbie smiled as she heard a surprised squeak from his mouth, “Flawless seems to be a favorite.”

“Long Live The Queen.”

Abbie buried her laughter into the back of his coat. She dropped the hand holding his to grip his waist. She told herself it was to steady herself while she cackled, but no, that wasn’t it at all.

She liked the feel of him beneath her fingertips. She liked having reasons to touch him. Her heart quickened, remembering his head against her breast, her lips on his forehead.

His hand covered hers. He didn’t turn his head. She knew he wanted to.

“You like to order pepperoni pizza, but you never eat the pepperonis,” Ichabod stroked the smooth skin of her small hand and she found herself snuggling into his coat even more, “I always find them casually placed next to my slice when I’m not paying attention.”

She shrugged, “I like the way they make the cheese taste but I don’t like them. You like everything. Well at least food wise. I’ve never seen you turn down a meal,” she smiled, “Where do you put it all?”

“My brother used to say it all went to my forehead.”

Here in the dank, dark pits of Hades’ territory they were laughing, navigating their way out thanks to a map so graciously provided by the King of the Underworld himself.

“Mm let’s see…Oh! your favorite Disney Princess is Tiana, Belle is a close second.”

“I do quite admire Miss Tiana’s determination and drive . It is a quality I most appreciate in a woman.” His nervous energy seemed to go right to his fingers, they could not stop twitching and moving against her own, interlacing and caressing. And so her body moved on its own, feet lifting up onto her toes and her lips pressing against the exposed patch of his neck, her nose nuzzling in the thicket of his hair, breathing in the scent of her shampoo which he always stole. She pretended to mind, but she didn’t really.

“Thank you.” She said quietly into the shell of his ear. He shuddered and she saw the goose flesh pop up on his neck.

“You run your fingers through my hair when you think I’m fast asleep during movie night.” He whispered quietly. They were in different territory in more ways than one, as they neared the river Styx. This was not just a fun little game anymore.

“ I knew you weren’t asleep. I always know. I just like the way your hair feels against my fingertips…” She demonstrated, raking a small hand through, relishing in the feel of his scalp scratching beneath her nails. He swallowed loudly, stumbling into the boat, holding onto her hand tightly as she climbed in behind him.

“I’m going to kiss you breathless once we escape this place.” He stated matter of factory as he dropped her hand and grabbed the oars attached to the boat and began rowing.


“Oh you better.” She smiled slyly.

Better Man

ahhh i finished it!!! finally!!! ok so i was gonna have Patton in the place of Logan. however, i am a sucker for Moxiety and got the idea of a sequel based off of Taylor Swift’s Begin Again, so maybe sequel?? who really knows tbh?? not me that’s for sure

Summary:  “He wished Roman was a better man. He wished life was fair.But wishes were for dreamers and it was time to stop dreaming. It was time to finally stay awake and alert for once. Or at least, time to try to.” Based off of Little Big Town’s Better Man. TW Abuse.

Pairing: Kinda past Prinxiety?? Edit: okay so its definitely not Prinxiety

I know I’m probably better off on my own than loving a man who didn’t know what he had when he had it

Anxiety glanced over his new apartment, checking to make sure everything was in the correct place. It had been years since he had lived on his own. He had been with Roman for so long that he forgot what being by himself was like.

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anonymous asked:

MY CHILDREN MILEVEN

who sings badly to make the other laugh?
ok but imagine el and mike are doing their homework together and el is having trouble with some of it and is getting a lil frustrated. mike notices the adorable crinkle on her forehead and the frown she’s making because ever since he’s gotten her back he can’t help himself, he’s constantly looking at her and memorizing every detail of her face. with this in mind, he can tell right away that she’s upset and immediately belts out the chorus to karma chameleon. el giggles at how ridiculous he sounds, which is a music of its own kind to mike’s ears.

who gets the other’s favorite food/dessert if they’re having a bad day?
y’all already know mike is on the case,, all eleven has to do is look at him with the slightest of pouts and this boy will have already made her a triple-decker eggo extravaganza. no questions asked.

who’s better at puppy-dog eyes?
michael wheeler cannot handle the puppy-dog eyes el can bring to the table. this is a fact. non-negotiable. it drives dustin pretty crazy, he just can’t believe that el can hold his limited edition star wars figurine while he’s not allowed within five feet of it. unbelievable.

who tries to adopt any animal they find?
eleven! she wants all the animals to have a home, and mike’s having one heck of a time trying to explain to her that while they all should have a home, it doesn’t necessarily mean that it has to be in his basement. 

who takes flowers from someone else’s yard to put in the others hair?
mike had to stay home sick and was pretty miserable about it, i mean, it was the day that mr. clarke was going to show them how to work the new gadgets the av club just got. el knew how much he was looking forward to it, and on her way home she spotted some daisies that she thought would look just perfect in mike’s hair. she quickly picked them, then made her way over to the wheeler house to do some serious cheering up. after she had finished placing the flowers she finally let mike see what she was up to. as mike was admiring her handiwork in a mirror, she was doing the same. the daisies looked right at home amongst his slight curls which were brought out by the humidity. “pretty,” she said. a soft blush creeped onto his cheeks.

who goes all out for holidays?
mike knows that eleven’s never really celebrated holidays, which means that from here on out every holiday has to be extra special to make up for the one’s she’s missed! you best believe that whether its halloween, christmas, valentine’s day, you name it, their fort in mike’s basement will be decked out in festive decorations. of course mike will talk hopper into going all out at their house too, and will most definitely be there to help them decorate their christmas tree.

who turns cleaning the house into a dance party?
ever since cleaning up the cabin with hopper, el’s always been keen on doing her daily chores to music. when mike’s basement undergoes a particularly lengthy campaign, we’re talking 3 days long including 2 sleepovers, karen insists that mike fixes the place up. el doesn’t want mike to have to do it all by himself, so she offers to help out resulting in many impromptu dance parties. by the end of it the basement looked good as new. 

Chanbaek in Roommate..

omg.. i know this is a bit late for an analysis / my thought about all the chanbaek in Roomate the other day..but after close observations and discussions i came out with this post.. hahah…lol.. enjoy.. 

after reading this you may want to re-watch Roomate ep13 again.. hehehe..

**warning : this is just what my chanbaek shipper’s mind managed to capture after watching 39 minutes of chanbaek in Roomate ep.13.. and it’s SUPER LONG post.. i didn’t break it into parts.. so bear with it..^_^.. you must’ve known by now that i believe in Chanbaek so hard its not even funny anymore.. so don’t like what you’re gonna read..? no need to read it and no need bash me ok.. we are all love chanbaek here don’t we..?? heheh..**

.

ok let’s start..

.

first of all can we take a moment and enjoy the fact that Baekkie call channie when he is mere bored..?? 

hehehe…*dramatically applause*

**which means he didn’t have any schedule at the moment**

and did anyone noticed how chanyeol was taken aback when suddenly baekkie said he wanna visit the Roommate house..??

he hesitated..

why..???

the one that asked baekhyun to come is actually minwoo… Chanyeol eyeing his roomates and suddenly minwoo ask Baekhyun to come visit and as if he got the green light he’s waiting for, Chanyeol immediately ask baekkie to visit…hehe… i bet he must be very excited but half unsure if baekkie really gonna come..

annnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnd…..

BAEKKIE REALLY COME..!!

and how did he came..? he said he came by bus..lol.. was he..?

i don’t know if this is true but he does look like he come by himself.. the production crew didn’t show baekhyun come out from a car or a van.. we can say that he really come by himself..

the question here is WHY..?? why he decided to come right away after he call chanyeol..? and why he came by himself..? why he make it hard for himself..? maybe the manager really doesn’t know that he sneaked to the Roommate house..?? i’m not sure… what do you think..? 

let’s go back to chanyeol shall we..? can we talk about chanyeol hidden dimple that shows up when he know baekhyun is at HIS house..? 

look how anticipate he is.. he looks like he can’t wait another second to meet baekkie.. he looks so happy to meet his best-friend..  he also looks like disbelieved that baekhyun really came.. doubt maybe..? that baekhyun really came.. that baekhyun actually managed to come…

i have to admit that in that episode of roommate, chanbaek got many moments, however, its very subtle and kinda - secretive? .. i don’t know why..

look.. why SBS wanna cut so much of chanbaek moments..? i know that we can’t believe SBS Roommate previews but there are a lot of their moments got edited and ended up not being broadcast.. 

Nervous Chanyeol

&

Chanbaek acoustic duet 

.

i admit that i anticipated a lot from this visit from baekhyun as a chanbaek moments galore.. at first i thought SBS are not gonna air this episode at all.. but they did..! i wonder why they have to wait up to 5 episodes before air this baekhyun’s visit part..??? maybe they REALLY not gonna air this part but as Bom’s part needed to be cut out and i guess many EXO fans ask for this part be air, the SBS decided to air it..

but SBS cut a lot of Chanbaek moements.. its not fair..!! when other guests come to the house they got almost half the air time but baekkie only got 39 minutes.. huhuhu T_T …

*wipes tears* Ok back to chanbaek..

when chanyeol first saw baekkie at his house, he was kinda shocked..

why..?

didn’t baekkie already said that he wants to visit..? my thought..? i think chanyeol didn’t expect baekhyun really come.. he don’t think that manager are gonna allow him to come.. maybe the manager know something about chanbaek that make chanyeol disbelieving..  but he really at the roommate house.. 

**caption : Heok! (you) really came?**

and the first thing chanyeol did when he saw baekhyun is run towards him and hold his hand..???

if you look closely you probably can see that actually chanyeol are going for a hug.. coz his both hands are up towards baekhyun..

chanyeol had been in the house for few months now, he is kinda used to the camera.. at some point when you are too comfortable and used to something you kinda forgot that they are surrounding you…

but knowing there are camera everywhere, baekhyun stops channie by receiving his hands in a very feminine manner EVER..!! look at their hands.. it looks so right… like they are used to hold hands like that.. look how baekkie take channie’s hand and look how they grip their hands together.. best-friends do that..!!????

and one more weird thing happened… its what chanyeol said to baekkie after that..

why is it weird seeing your own best-friend in your house..? or is it weird that baekhyun actually really in his house..? it kinda feels like chanyeol didn’t believe that baekhyun managed to actually came.. you know what i meant..? like it is something close to impossible but it happened..

maybe chanyeol think its impossible baekhyun are gonna make it to his house because - my guess - the manager and the company are not gonna allow it.. that’s why i think SBS actually consider not airing this part.. maybe they have too many obvious moments that can make fans noticed about their relationship.. maybe.. who knows right..?

.

.

SBS cut many Chanbaek moments that can rise suspicions.. Nervous Baekhyun and clumsy chanyeol on Channie’s bed.. they are so adorable.. 

i don’t understands why but many of chanbaek’s duet are not broadcast-ed anywhere.. many times i heard that chanyeol had prepared some songs and performance with baekhyun but unfortunately it never get on TV or any shows.. i’m sad T_T..

and this is one of them.. i wanna see chanbaek duet again, like in Boom street where they sang that love song and chanyeol messed up his guitar solo.. SBS cuts and edited just too many.. WHY..!?? 

.

.

Eventho they edited many of Chanbaek’s obvious moments and skinships, little did they know, Chanbaek is very careful when they touch each other.. they can make it look very normal yet so loving and longing.. with hidden meanings kind-of-skinships..?

.

Remember when mama Shin asked Baekhyun which girls he is most curious about..?

look carefully at Mr.Park.. his wide grin disappear.. Jealous much Park Chanyeol..? 

and suddenly he tries to grab the cake slicer on Baekhyun’s hand.. with no reason whatsoever.. hahah… he is so obvious.. and Baekhyun didn’t even glance at other girls and pointed out GaYeon while his other hand instinctively handing the cake slicer to chanyeol.. how he knows chanyeol wanna take that cake slicer..!? soulmates~~~

hehehe.. maybe its just another reason for them to have some skinships..  and for Chanyeol to show his emotions at the moment.. hehe..

.

They danced to Overdose for the Roommate family..

and there’s Chanyeol, making weird face while Baekkie bend in front of him (because his pants are too tight) .. Park Chanyeol..! control your hormones..!

what with the tongue and the eyeing and the lip-bite..??!??

.

their glances and eye-contacts..

.

Park chanyeol being a proud boyfriend… haha.. 

His power is shining my life.. while I’m warming his.. <3

Baekhyun can do this.. Baekhyun will do that.. again, chanyeol will do anything to make sure Baekhyun got airtime.. and proudly show off his wifey.. hehe…

.

moments that didn’t caught obviously by camera.. but the reflection on the mirror shows their thirst for each other..

out of nowhere, suddenly Baekhyun initiate skinship with Chanyeol.. there’s no reason for Baek to touch Chan at that point.. but why they look so scared but yet so happy when they managed to touch each other for a little moment like that..? 

look how Chanyeol take a quick glance at Baek when he feels Baekkie’s hands on his back…he look at Baek and lean towards his hug..  at this time, everyone are focusing on Seho.. so they think this is the perfect moment to touch each other.. 

.

Again chanyeol being a proud and happy boyfriend for Baekhyun..

look at the proud shining on Chanyeol’s face when he see sassy Baekhyun.. hehe.. again.. its the mirror that capture this… 

.

and lastly… can we talk about why suddenly baekhyun have to leave..?? he already changed his clothes to seho’s and settle himself on dongwook’s bed, that means he really want to spend the night at the roommate house.. 

if you watch ep.10 where Lee Dok Hwa(?) sunbae-nim came to the roommate house, we can see that he didn’t want to sleep over he just want to rest for a while.. so he just laying on Seho’s bed and not changing his clothes.. 

but its definitely different in Baekhyun’s case.. Baekkie already changed his clothes to stranger’s clothes and lay  comfortably on stranger’s bed, and suddenly his phone rang and he has to leave..??!? if he just wanna rest for a while, why bother changing his clothes..?? and after few hours he has to change again.? right..?

and if you look at chanyeol when he send baekhyun to the car, you can see that he already asleep and woke up just to send Baekkie.. is that means that he really thought baekkie are gonna spend the night there..? and got caught off guard when beakkie said he has to leave.. and again.. remember, didn’t baekkie said he was bored earlier..? which i guess he don’t have schedule that day.. why he has to LEAVE..!?? 

chanyeol looks nervous and baekkie look aggrieved when they walk towards the car.. look at channie’s face when baekkie  grab his hands and hold it tight just for that short moment before he got in the car and gods know what happened to him after that..

.

so what do you think..? i bet many of you will say this is just me and my chanbaek shipper’s mind hallucinating and delusional.. maybe you’ll say that none of what i write is true and i just manipulating things.. but please.. we all know Baekhyun is Fearless right..? he stands up for what he believe… and for what he wants… if you realized, all the secret skinships and longingness initiated by baekhyun.. chanyeol just play along.. they miss each other.. i know that.. i can see that.. but they can’t show much coz camera all over the house.. and even if they did show much, i’m sure SBS and SM will edit it and ensure it didn’t go out to public.. 

there are too many edited parts, and its suspicious at some point.. chanyeol and baekhyun themselves also suspicious that day.. but again.. this is just what I thought when i watch Baekhyun around chanyeol and Chanyeol being around Baekkie.. 

if you disagree, just ignore this rant….

but #IWillAlwaysBelieveInChanbaek <3

Something big||JJK

Originally posted by bottomkookie

Jungkook Scenario 

Summery— Its been 1 year since (Y/N) and Jungkook got married. He planned something big but things didnt go as planned. I can’t do summerys but please read, i think youll like it.

Pairing— reader x Jungkook

Genre— fluff? Angst? Violence? Idk

Word count— 2371 (oops)

Warnings— swearing, fighting, cringy

A/N— so i didnt intend to make this super long but oops. Anyways this is my first time ever exposing my writing to the world. I hope i did it right, and i edited it right. Please give feedback. (Request are open) -admin kiko♡

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Camera Shy part 7

Summary:  AU. Jughead is an aspiring photographer. His final project requires him to shoot nude photos of someone who inspires him. With no one else to ask Jughead asks Betty. Insecure of her body Betty is quick to shoot the idea down, until Jughead reminds her that she owes him.


Read on AO3 here

Find previous chapters on Tumblr here (Just search a little. I know I need to make a master list).

A/N:  Thank you @Riverdalelovee for giving me the idea for their date - I was completely clueless. The response on this story is mind blowing. Thank you so much to all of you who read and comment and kudos, you are the reason I continue to update as often (sorry this one took a while longer - I apologize, I struggled a lot with it and if you follow me on tumblr I’ve been pretty stuck in the O.C.) Anyway, this chapter was really difficult for me for some reason and I’m sorry if that shows in my writing. I hope that you like and comment anyway. You all are so amazing. Thank you <3

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anonymous asked:

What are your thoughts on the story about Mitch never setting foot in a recording studio? He was in a band called Total Navajo and on their website it says that their EP was recorded at Firehouse studios. I know I sound crazy and like I'm overreacting but the fact that it's such a small detail is what makes it SO infuriating! Seriously, why would he lie about this?! Who the fuck cares if Mitch has experience or not?! I really don't want to believe that Harry would lie about something so stupid.

Ok, I didn’t know about this, so I had to look it up and do some reading.

I believe this is the Harry quote you are referring to:

 “He had never been in a studio before but he was an absolute monster as a musician and now he is one of my best friends.” 

I looked up information on Total Navajo as well. Mitch did record a small album in a couple of different studios with Total Navajo, so we know right away that Harry’s above statement is false.

It should also be noted (and I’m sure others already know this, but just in case) that Total Navajo was comprised of Mitch Rowland and Ryan Nasci. Ryan is most likely how Mitch got the job working with Harry, not the fabricated story about Harry meeting him in a pizza shop. Ryan Nasci also worked on Harry’s album. Ryan has worked sound editing on films and has also worked on other artists’ albums including Cher, The Backstreet Boys, Black-Eyed Peas, Mikky Ekko and others. Ryan is well connected in the music industry and was therefore able to bring Mitch in to work with Harry.

On somewhat of a side note, as Mitch co-wrote 9 of the 10 songs on Harry’s album, I thought this quote from the Total Navajo website about its album “Eyelids” was quite interesting:

 “Eyelids EP is a collection of songs dealing with heartbreak, personal struggle and some inner demons. While the music is wide ranging in its style, there is a common theme of lost love runs throughout the EP.”

 All of that seems so familiar doesn’t it?  It sounds suspiciously like Harry’s album, does it not? So much for Harry telling “his” stories, huh? (And yes, I am aware that many albums could use this same description, but it was the striking similarities to Harry’s album that really stood out to me).

At any rate, why would Harry lie about Mitch’s past musical experience? Because it creates a better narrative. By the time we learned about Mitch, Harry had already filmed the documentary about recording his album, complete with the Harry and Mitch bromance on display. So his team clearly decided to capitalize on that and use it to Harry’s advantage. They make up something that will pull at people’s heartstrings a bit, fuels the story of the bromance, and makes Harry look like a super great guy in the process. “Super star Harry Styles plucks random pizza guy from obscurity and becomes his BFF” sounds so much better than “Guy who has years of experience in the music business continues to have a career in the music business”.  See the difference?  At the end of the day, it’s just more promotion for Harry. It’s another way to get his name out there in the press and it makes him look good. (And as I’m sure Mitch is making good money now, he has no reason to rock the boat by speaking out to say otherwise).

It also shows the arrogance of Harry and his PR team. Mitch was in a band, they recorded an album, and performed in small gigs. But because they weren’t big, famous super stars like Mr. Harry Styles, it’s ok to erase it. (It’s on the internet so it’s never really gone). But they are just pretending like it didn’t happen and it doesn’t matter. It also shows how stupid they think fans are and that they just assumed no one would figure out the truth. 

I have no doubt that Mitch was proud of the music he created with Total Navajo, even it it never made him famous. But now his new “bestie” doesn’t consider it important enough to acknowledge and instead is using him in a lie to make his own star shine even brighter. This is a best friend? I certainly hope not.  

How many times have we heard Harry say that he worked really hard on his album? Or that he is really proud of it?  So why doesn’t it matter that Mitch worked hard on Total Navajo’s album? Or that he was really proud of it as well? Is this Harry’s logic: if you aren’t famous, what you do doesn’t count? If Mitch is going along with the lie, then he is not blameless. But on some level it must hurt to have something that mattered to you be ignored and wiped away. And for what? A bromance story? It’s ridiculous in that it doesn’t matter. No one would have cared if there was never a story about Mitch working in a pizza shop and meeting Harry. 

It is frivolous things like this that make Harry’s PR a joke. This never needed to be a story. But they put it out there and now it’s just another lie from Harry. Seemingly done in an attempt to give substance where there is none. Trying to make it appear as though Harry has a certain depth of character that he is sorely lacking. And clearly they don’t care if they hurt anyone in the process.

“They muddy the water, to make it seem deep.” –Friedrich Nietzsche