i think ben did a great job with what he had

Full Esquire Interview - CHRIS EVANS IS READY TO FIGHT

“HIS SUCCESS AS CAPTAIN AMERICA HAS MADE CHRIS EVANS ONE OF HOLLYWOOD’S SURE THINGS, WHICH MEANS HE CAN DO WHATEVER HE WANTS WITH HIS FREE TIME. SO WHY JUMP OUT OF AIRPLANES AND GET INTO IT WITH DAVID DUKE?

BY MAXIMILLIAN POTTERMAR 15, 2017


The Canadian commandos are the first to jump. Our plane reaches an altitude of about eight thousand feet; the back door opens. Although it’s a warm winter day below in rural southern California, up here, not so much. In whooshes freezing air and the cold reality that this is actually happening. Out drop the eight commandos, all in black-and-red camouflage, one after the other. For them it’s a training exercise, and Jesus, these crazy bastards are stoked. The last Canuck to exit into the nothingness is a freakishly tall stud with a crew cut and a handlebar mustache; just before he leaps, he flashes a smile our way. Yeah, yeah, we get it: You’re a badass.

Moments later, the plane’s at ten thousand feet, and the next to go are a Middle Eastern couple in their late thirties. These two can’t wait. They are ecstatic. Skydiving is clearly a thing for them. Why? I can’t help thinking. Is it like foreplay? Do they rush off to the car after landing and get it on in the parking lot? They give us the thumbs-up and they’re gone.

Just like that, we’re at 12,500 feet and it’s our turn. Me and Chris Evans, recognized throughout the universe as the star of the Marvel-comic-book-inspired Captain America and Avengers movies. The five films in the series, which began in 2011 with Captain America: The First Avenger, have grossed more than $4 billion.

The two of us, plus four crew members, are the only ones left in the back of the plane. Over the loud drone of the twin propellers, one of the crew members shouts, "Okay, who’s going first?”

Evans and I are seated on benches opposite each other. Neither of us answers. I look at him; he looks at me. I feel like I’ve swallowed a live rat. Evans is over there, all Captain America cool, smiling away.

While we were waiting to board the plane, Evans told me that as he lay in bed the night before, “I started exploring the sensation of ‘What if the chute doesn’t open?’. . .”

Oh, did you now?

“. . .Those last minutes where you know.” As in you know you’re going to fatally splat. “You’re not gonna pass out; you’re gonna be wide awake. So what? Do I close my eyes? Hopefully, it would be quick. Lights out. I fucking hope it would be quick. And then I was like, if you’re gonna do it, let’s just pretend there is no way this is going to go wrong. Just really embrace it and jump out of that plane with gusto.” Evans also shared that he’d looked up the rate of skydiving fatalities. “It’s, like, 0.006 fatalities per one thousand jumps. So I figure our odds are pretty good.”

Again the crew member shouts, “Who’s going first?”

Again I look at Evans; again he looks at me. The rat is running circles in my belly.

I look at Evans; he looks at me.

Another crew member asks, “So whose idea was this, anyway?”


That’s an excellent question.

I ask Evans the same thing when we first meet, the evening before our jump, at his house. He lives atop the Hollywood Hills, in a modern-contemporary ranch in the center of a Japanese-style garden. The place has the vibe of an L.A. meditation retreat—there’s even a little Buddha statue on the front step.

The dude who opens the front door is in jeans, a T-shirt, and Nikes; he has on a black ball cap with the NASA logo, and his beard is substantial enough that for a second it’s hard to be sure this is the same guy who plays the baby-faced superhero. Our handshake in the doorway is interrupted when his dog rockets toward my crotch. Evans is sorry about that.

We do the small-talk thing. Evans is from a suburb of Boston, one of four kids raised by Dad, a dentist, and Mom, who ran a community theater. The point is, he’s a Patriots fan, and with Super Bowl LI, between the Pats and the Falcons, just a few days away at the time, it’s about the only thing on his mind. You bet your Sam Adams–guzzling ass he’s going to the game in Houston. “Oh my God,” he says, doing a little dance. “I can’t believe it’s this weekend.”

Like any self-respecting Pats fan, Evans is super-wicked pissed at NFL commissioner Roger Goodell.

Evans won’t be rolling to SB LI with a posse of Beantown-to-Hollywood A-listers like Mark Wahlberg, Matt Damon, and Ben Affleck. For the record, he’s never met Damon, and his only interaction with Wahlberg was a couple years ago at a Patriots event. Evans has, however, humiliated himself in front of Affleck.

Around 2006, Evans met with Affleck to talk about Gone Baby Gone, which Affleck was directing. Evans was walking down a hallway, looking for the room where they were supposed to meet. Walking by an open office, he heard Affleck, in that thick Boston accent of his, shout, “There he is!” (Evans does a perfect Affleck impersonation.)

By then, Evans had hit the big time for his turn as the Human Torch, Johnny Storm, in 2005’s Fantastic Four, but he still got starstruck. As he tells it, “First thing I say to him: 'Am I going to be okay where I parked?’ He was like, 'Where did you park?’ I said, 'At a meter.’ And he was like, 'Did you put money in the meter?’ And I said, 'Yep.’ And he says, 'Well, I think you’ll be okay.’ I was like, this is off to a great fucking start.” Stating the obvious here: Evans did not get the part.

No, Evans will be heading to the Super Bowl with his brother and three of his closest buddies. Like any self-respecting Pats fan, Evans is super-wicked pissed at NFL commissioner Roger Goodell for imposing that suspension on Tom Brady for Deflategate. Grabbing two beers from a fridge that’s otherwise basically empty, Evans says, “I just want to see Goodell hand the trophy to Brady. Goodell. Piece of shit.”

In Evans’s living room, there’s not a single hint of his Captain Americaness. Earth tones, tables that appear to be made of reclaimed wood. Open. Uncluttered. Glass doors open onto a backyard with a stunning view of the Hills. Evans stretches out on one of two couches. I take the other and ask, “Just whose idea was it to jump?” Since we both know whose idea it wasn’t, we both know that what I’m really asking is Why? Why, dude, do you want to jump (with me) from a goddamn airplane? “Yeah,” he says, popping open his beer, “I don’t know what I was thinking.”

Settling in on the couch, he groans. Evans explains that he’s hurting all over because he just started his workout routine the day before to get in shape for the next two Captain America films. The movies will be shot back to back beginning in April. After that, no more red- white-and-blue costume for the thirty-five-year-old. He will have fulfilled his contract.

“Yeah,” he says, popping open his beer, “I don’t know what I was thinking.”

Back in 2010, Marvel presented Evans with a nine-picture deal. He insisted he’d sign on for no more than six. Some family members thought he was nuts to dial back such a secure and lucrative gig. Evans saw it differently.

It takes five months to shoot a Marvel movie, and when you tack on the promotional obligations for each one, well, shit, man. Evans knew that for as long as he was bound to Captain America, he would have little time to take on other projects. He wanted to direct, he wanted to play other characters—roles that were more human—like the lead in Gifted, which will hit theaters this month. The script had brought him to tears. Evans managed to squeeze the movie in between Captain America and Avengers films.

FOX Searchlight

In Gifted, Evans stars as Frank Adler. You don’t get much more human than Adler, a grease-under-his-nails boat-engine mechanic living the bachelor life in Florida. After a series of tragic circumstances, Adler becomes a surrogate father to his niece, Mary, a first-grader with the IQ of Einstein. He recognizes that Mary is a little genius, and he does his best to prevent anyone else from noticing. Given the aforementioned circumstances, Adler has witnessed what can happen when a kid with a brilliant mind is pushed too hard too quickly. Then along comes Mary’s teacher. She discovers the child’s gift, and a Kramer vs. Kramer–esque drama ensues.

During a moment in the film when things aren’t going Adler’s way, he sarcastically refers to himself as a “fucking hero.” Evans says the line didn’t lead him to make comparisons between superhero Steve Rogers (aka Captain America) and Everyman hero Frank Adler. But now that you mention it . . . 

“With Steve Rogers,” Evans says, “even though you’re on a giant movie with a huge budget and strange costumes, you’re still on a hunt for the truth of the character.” That said, “with Adler, it’s nice to play someone relatable. I think Julianne Moore said, 'The audience doesn’t come to see you; they come to see themselves.’ Adler is someone you can hold up as a mirror for someone in the audience. They’ll be able to far more easily identify with Frank Adler than Steve Rogers.”

Dodger. That’s the name of Evans’s dog, the one who headbutted my nuts and has since done a marvelous job of making amends by nuzzling against me on the couch. Evans got him while he was filming Gifted; one of the last scenes was shot in an animal shelter in Georgia. Evans had wanted a dog ever since his last pooch died in 2012. Then he found himself walking the aisles of this pound, and there was this mixed-breed boxer, wagging his tail and looking like he belonged with Evans.

Dodger is not exactly a name you’d think a die-hard Boston sports fan would pick. His boys from back home have given him a ton of shit over it. But he has not abandoned his Red Sox for the L.A. team. As a kid, he loved the Disney animated movie Oliver & Company, and his favorite character was Dodger. Anticipating the grief he was going to get from his pals, Evans considered other names. “You could name your dog Doorknob,” he says, “and in a month he’s fucking Doorknob.” Evans’s mom convinced him to go with his gut.

Right around when Evans was wrapping Gifted and heading back to L.A. with Dodger, the 2016 presidential campaign was still in that phase when no one, including the actor—a Hillary Clinton supporter—thought Trump had a shot. He still can’t believe Trump won.

“I feel rage,” he says. “I feel fury. It’s unbelievable. People were just so desperate to hear someone say that someone is to blame. They were just so happy to hear that someone was angry. Hear someone say that Washington sucks. They just want something new without actually understanding. I mean, guys like Steve Bannon—Steve Bannon!—this man has no place in politics.”

Evans has made, and continues to make, his political views known on Twitter. He tweeted that Trump ought to “stop energizing lies,” and he recently ended up in a heated Twitter debate with former KKK leader David Duke over Trump’s pick of Jeff Sessions for attorney general. Duke baselessly accused Evans of being anti-Semitic; Evans encouraged Duke to try love: “It’s stronger than hate. It unites us. I promise it’s in you under the anger and fear.” Making political statements and engaging in such public exchanges is a rather risky thing for the star of Captain America to do. Yes, advisors have said as much to him. “Look, I’m in a business where you’ve got to sell tickets,” he says. “But, my God, I would not be able to look at myself in the mirror if I felt strongly about something and didn’t speak up. I think it’s about how you speak up. We’re allowed to disagree. If I state my case and people don’t want to go see my movies as a result, I’m okay with that.”

Trump. Bannon. Politics. Now Evans is animated. He gets off the couch, walks out onto his porch, and lights a cigarette. “Some people say, 'Don’t you see what’s happening? It’s time to yell,' ” Evans says. “Yeah, I see it, and it’s time for calm. Because not everyone who voted for Trump is going to be some horrible bigot. There are a lot of people in that middle; those are the people you can’t lose your credibility with. If you’re trying to change minds, by spewing too much rhetoric you can easily become white noise.”


Evans has a pretty remarkable “How I got to Hollywood” story.

During his junior year of high school, he knew he wanted to act. He was doing it a lot. In school. At his mom’s theater. He loved it. “When you’re doing a play at thirteen years old and have opening night? None of my friends had opening nights. 'I can’t have a sleepover, guys; I have an opening night tonight.' ”

That same year, he did a two-man play. For all of the twenty-plus plays Evans had done up to that point, preparation meant going home, memorizing lines, and doing a few run-throughs with the cast. However, for this play, Fallen Star, he and his costar would rehearse by running dialogue with each other. Hour upon hour, night after night.

Fallen Star is about two friends, one of whom has just died. As the play opens, one of the characters comes home after the funeral to find his dead friend’s ghost. Evans was the ghost. Waiting backstage on opening night, he knew he didn’t have every line memorized, but he had the essence and emotion of the play down. Onstage, he remembers, “I was saying the lines not because they were memorized but because the play was in me. I was believing what I was saying.”

He was hooked. He wanted to do more of this kind of acting—real acting. He wanted to do films, in which the camera was right on him and he could just be the character, rather than theater, in which an actor must perform to the back of the room.

A family friend who was a television actor advised Evans that if he wanted to go to Hollywood, he needed an agent. Toward the end of his junior year, he had a ballsy request for his parents: If he found an internship with a casting agent in New York City, would they allow him to live there and cover the rent? They agreed. Evans landed a gig with Bonnie Finnegan, who was then working on the television show Spin City.

“I just fucked off. I lost my virginity that year. 1999 was one of the best years of my life.” Until it wasn’t.

Evans chose to intern with a casting agent because he figured he had more of a chance to interact with other agents trying to get auditions for their clients.

The kid was sixteen years old.

Finnegan put Evans on the phone; his responsibilities included setting up appointments for auditions. By the end of the summer, he picked the three agents he had the best rapport with and asked each of them to give him a five-minute audition. All three said yes. After seeing his audition, all three were interested.

Evans went with the one Finnegan recommended, Bret Adams, who told Evans to return to New York for auditions in January, television pilot season. Back home, Evans doubled up on a few classes the first semester of his senior year, graduated early, and went back to New York in January. He got the same shithole apartment in Brooklyn and the same internship with Finnegan. He landed a part on the pilot Opposite Sex. Even better, the show got picked up and would start shooting in L.A. that fall.

“I know I’m going to L.A. in August,” Evans says, recalling that period. “So I go home and that spring I would wake up around noon, saunter into high school just to see my buddies, and we’d go get high in the parking lot. I just fucked off. I lost my virginity that year. 1999 was one of the best years of my life.” Until it wasn’t.

He wasn’t in L.A. for even a month when he got a call from home. His parents were divorcing. Evans never saw it coming.

Family and love and the struggles therein are part of what attracted Evans to Gifted.

“In my own life, I have a deep connection with my family and the value of those bonds,” he says. “I’ve always loved stories about people who put their families before themselves. It’s such a noble endeavor. You can’t choose your family, as opposed to friends. Especially in L.A. You really get to see how friendships are put to the test; it stirs everyone’s egos. But if something goes south with a friend, you have the option to say we’re not friends anymore. Your family—that’s your family. Trying to make that system work and trying to make it not just functional but actually enjoyable is a really challenging endeavor, and that’s certainly how it is with my family.”


the plane, a decision is made.

“I want to see you jump first,” Evans shouts my way.

Of course he does.

Like any respectable and legal skydiving center, Skydive Perris, which is providing us with this “experience,” doesn’t just strap a chute on your back. First, you go to a room for a period of instruction. Then you go to another room, where you sign away your rights.

You may be wondering how the star of a billion-dollar franchise with two pictures to shoot gets clearance to jump from an airplane—never mind the low rate of fatalities, as Evans has presented it. So am I.

“Well, they give you all these crazy insurance policies, but even if I die, what are they going to do? Sue my family? They’d probably cast some new guy at a cheaper price and save some money.”

Thinking the answer is almost certainly going to be no, I ask Evans if he’s ever gone skydiving before. Turns out he has, with an ex-girlfriend. Turns out that ex-girlfriend is now married to Justin Timberlake. Evans and Jessica Biel dated off and on from 2001 to 2006. They took the leap together when Biel hatched the idea for one Valentine’s Day. According to media accounts, Evans was recently dating his Gifted costar Jenny Slate, who plays the teacher. “Yeah,” he says, “but I’m steering clear of those questions.” You can almost feel his heart pinch.

“There’s a certain shared life experience that is tough for someone else who’s not in this industry to kind of wrap their head around.”

We end up broadly discussing the unique challenges an international star like Evans faces when it comes to dating, specifically the trust factor. Evans supposes that’s why so many actors date other actors: “There’s a certain shared life experience that is tough for someone else who’s not in this industry to kind of wrap their head around,” he says. “Letting someone go to work with someone for three months and they won’t see them. It really, it certainly puts the relationship to the test.”

In Gifted, there’s a moment when Slate’s character asks Adler what his greatest fear is. Frank Adler’s greatest fear is that he’ll ruin his niece’s life. Evans’s greatest fear is having regrets.

“Like always kind of wanting to be there as opposed to here. I think I’m worried all of a sudden I’ll get old and have regrets, realize that I’ve not cultivated enough of an appreciation for the now and surrendering to the present moment.”

Evans’s musings have something to do with the fact that he has been reading The Surrender Experiment. “It’s about the basic notion that we are only in a good mood when things are going our way,” he says. “The truth is, life is going to unfold as it’s going to unfold regardless of your input. If you are an active participant in that awareness, life kind of washes over you, good or bad. You kind of become Teflon a little bit to the struggles that we self-inflict.”

He continues: “Our conscious minds are very spread out. We worry about the past. We worry about the future. We label. And all of that stuff just makes us very separate. What I’m trying to do is just quiet it down. Put that brain down from time to time and hope those periods of quiet and stillness get longer. When you do that, what rises from the mist is a kind of surrendering. You’re more connected as opposed to being separate. A lot of the questions about destiny or fate or purpose or any of that stuff—it’s not like you get answers. You just realize you didn’t need the questions.”

This here—this stuff about surrendering, letting life unfold, taking the leap—this is why he wanted to go skydiving. It’s why that sixteen-year-old took the leap and did the summer in New York; it’s why he took the leap and turned down the nine-picture deal; it’s why he got Dodger. Surrender. Take the leap.

And so I go first.

Oh, one important detail: Novice jumpers like Evans and me, we don’t jump solo. Thank God. Each of us is doing a tandem jump. Each of us is strapped with our back to a professional jumper’s front. I’m strapped to a forty-four-year-old dude named Paul. Considering what’s about to happen, I figure I should know a little something about Paul. He tells me he used to own a bar in Chicago. Evans is strapped to a young woman named Sam, who looks to be twenty-something. She’s got a purplish-pink streak in her black hair and says things like “badass.” In fact, Sam introduced herself  by saying, “I’m Sam, but you can call me Badass.”

At the plane’s open door, my mind goes to my wife and two teenage sons, to those I love, and to the texts I just sent in case my chute fails. Then Paul and I—well, really mostly Paul—rock gently back and forth to build momentum to push away from the plane, to push away from all that seems sane.

Three.

Two.

One.

Holy fuck.

HOLY FUCK. This is what I scream as we free-fall from 12,500 feet, at more than a hundred miles an hour, toward the earth. Which I cannot take my eyes off of. I think about nothing. Not living. Not dying. Nothing. I simply feel . . . I have let go.

Suddenly, it all stops. I’m jerked up. Paul has pulled the chute, and it does indeed open. This is fantastic, because it means we have a much better chance of not dying. But it’s also kind of a bummer. I had let go. Of everything. I had chosen to play those odds Evans had talked about. I had embraced jumping and letting life unfold.

Now I had been jerked back. I would land. Back on the earth I had been so high above and from which I had been so far removed. Back in all of it.

Once I’m on the ground, safe and in one piece, a staffer runs over and asks how I feel. I say, “I feel like Captain America.”

The staffer runs over and asks Evans the same question. He says he feels great. Then he’s asked another question: What was your favorite part?

“Jumping out,” he says. “Jumping out is always a real thrill.”


This article appears in the April '17 issue of Esquire.

Truly, Madly, Crazy, Deeply

Writer - @damndescendants

Requested - @averagefangurl23 

Hi, I love your work so much so I decided to request an imagine.Could you write a Thomas Doherty imagine where the reader has been getting a lot of hate on social media and the Descendants cast notice she isn’t herself so they all try to cheer her up and Thomas is being all cute and sweet and the cast die over it as the reader and Thomas both like each other but both are scared to admit it. Just a like lot of fluff. If you could do this I would die

Disclaimer - I do not own any of Descendants’ characters and/or ideas all credit goes to the creator and producers of Disney Descendants

Pairing - Thomas Doherty x Reader

Summary – (Y/N) is one of the stars of Disney Descendants who is beginning to get backlash and the cast, including her crush Thomas Doherty, try to cheer her up. 

Warning(s) - people being mean (Play nice!), fluff

Originally posted by froyst

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PUNK!STAN + NERD!BILL AU

i’m working on shit i swear, this is just for the wait. 

HERE WE GO

  • Stan, Richie, Mike, and Bev are the punks.
  • Eddie, Stan, and Ben are the “nerds”
  • Stan is very intimidating with his leather jacket and his boots, but he’s a fucking softie.
  • Bill knows this.
  • They got paired for an assignment in history freshman year. Stan was pissed he didn’t get Mike (because my son is a genius!) but when he saw how cute Bill was he dropped it.
  • Bill was expecting to do the whole thing himself, but Stan was very helpful and did his part.
  • Bill was lowkey embarrassed about his stutter because HE was used to it and so were his friends, but he was scared Stan was gonna make fun of him for it
  • He didn’t (much to Bill’s surprise)
  • Richie kept teasing Stan because of how much he talked about Bill.
  • But Stan could do the same thing with him and Eddie
  • Bev is a lesbian!
  • Mike has a little crush on Ben
  • After the project was over, Stan still sat next to Bill.
  • And talked to him
  • And hung out with him.
  • They’re like real friends
  • That occasionally flirt
  • and are constantly touching each other
  • but whatever, moving on
  • BECAUSE they hung out so much that meant that their crews hung out too
  • No one was complaining, everyone had a crush on everyone (except for Bev, of course. she was crushing on the head cheerleader)
  • This goes on until the summer before junior year (YOU ARE SIXTEEN GOING ON SEVENTEEN, BABY ITS TIME TO THINK -Bill, to which Stan replies: You’re a Fucking Dork, Denbrough)
  • They’re hanging out at the Denbrough household, watching a movie n stuff
  • There are no parents because they have jobs  (Not everyone can have a summer break, Billiam -Stan)
  • Now, contrary to popular belief, Bill kisses Stan first.
  • stan is shook
  • But we all know Derry is a piece of shit town, so as much as they want to be open about their relationship (as much as Stan wants to show Bill off) they can’t
  • Bill’s parents are convinced Stan replaced Eddie as Bill’s best friend
  • “What do they think we’re doing in your room all the time?”
  • “Studying.”
  • “Seriously?”
  • Makeout sessions start two (2) weeks after they first kiss
  • It’s intense
  • School starts back up again and they barely have any classes together (What the Fuck -Stan)
  • They see each other in between classes though
  • THEY MAKE EYE CONTACT AND STAN SMIRKS WHICH MAKES BILL BLUSH AND ITS THE CUTEST THING EVER, OK.
  • Bill starts getting antsy during class and even Eddie is like “Bro, chill tf out”
  • Bill doesn’t fucking know why until he sees Stan and immediately calms down
  • “I’m h-having Stan withdrawls???”
  • “That’s fucking adorable”
  • “Sh-Shut up, b-bird boy”
  • “Hush, Denbrough”
  • lots of hand holding
  • and kissing when no one is around
  • BILL SKIPPED CLASS JUST TO BE AROUND STAN AND MR. STANLEY LOST IT
  • “Bill, seriously. You don’t have to skip class, we could’ve just waited it’s fine.”
  • “N-No, it’s b-basically a free p-period anyways. I w-w-wanna be here”
  • Stan’s whipped™
  • Bev won’t let him live it down! Stan is whipped!
  • Mike doesn’t give a shit, he never has, really. As long as stan’s happy.
  • Richie’s a prick at first, but Stan really is his best friend and he knows he’s really in deep with Bill so he doesn’t say much.
  • BUT WHEN HE DOES.. BOY.
  • Ok but there was one day, Bill’s stutter was super bad for some reason. He thought it was getting better but that day was not good.
  • He doesn’t talk much that day and Stan gets really worried.
  • When Bill finally tells him what’s going on (in the middle of their makeout session because Stan won’t stop asking if he’s ok) Stan tells him that his stutter is adorable, and that he was sure it was just Bill’s nerves.
  • BILL GIVES HIM THE SOFTEST HEART EYES EVER before they start making out again.
  • But then they go and have lunch with everyone and Bill is stuttering so bad over his words. Stan is squeezing his hand underneath the table, but it’s not helping much.
  • And then Richie goes “Just spit it out, b-b-bill.”
  • Bev smacks the shit out Richie’s arm
  • Eddie does the same with his head.
  • Mike and Ben are fr glaring at him.
  • Stan’s ready to murder him with the spork he got in the lunchline
  • Bill stops talking for the day.
  • Stan doesn’t speak to richie for the rest of the week.
  • “That was fucked up, Richie.” -Eddie
  • “What do you want me to do, Eds? Apologize? Bill probably hates me—“
  • “Don’t call me Eds, and yes! that’s what I’ve been telling you to do for days now!”
  • Stan crawls through Bill’s window at night so he can hold his boyfriend
  • Stan won’t tell him that his dad usually screams at him for being a disgrace to the family.
  • DW, Bill will find out soon enough.
  • Bill hasn’t spoken much, not even with Stan and he is BEYOND PISSED at Richie.
  • “I’m really sorry about Richie, Bill.”
  • “I-It’s not your f-fault, and h-he didn’t mean a-anything by it.”
  • STAN JUST WANTS TO HEAR HIS BOYFRIEND’S VOICE OK
  • also, they haven’t actually called each other boyfriends and they’ve been dating for eight months so
  • “N-No, I know. I just– I just know how he can be.”
  • “I’m fine, Stan.”
  • Bill really was fine about that, he was just stressed because of school.
  • Stan is a few inches taller than Bill (6’0”, while Bill is chilling at 5’10”)
  • which means Bill is the little spoon :)
  • Stan absolutely loves having Bill so close to him. It helps him and Bill sleep because it’s so warm and comfortable, and with his arm around him he feels like he can protect Bill from everyone and everything.
  • And that’s all he wants to do
  • Richie does apologize to Bill, to which Bill says he really didn’t mind (it was mostly Stan)
  • Onto The Next
  • Stan slowly starts wearing brighter colors (i.e the pastels + white)
  • “You’ve gone soft, Stanny Boy” -Bev
  • “Shut the fuck up, Beverly”
  • “I think you look great.” -Mike
  • “That’s gay!” -Richie
  • “Beep Beep, Richie!” -Bev, Stan, and Mike.
  • “I was growing fond of the leather jackets.” -Bill.
  • “It’s too hot for that, Denbrough.”
  • Now, it’s pretty clear how overprotective Stan is of Bill, but Mr. Denbrough is just as bad as he is.
  • Girls flirting with Stan? Issa no from Bill.
  • BUT HE CAN’T DO ANYTHING IN PUBLIC IT SUCKS
  • So it just leads to a very heated makeout later.
  • BOYS flirt with Stan? (yeah, it’s happened) Count Billiam is alive and well.
  • Seriously! the love bites that boy leaves, whew.
  • And stan didn’t give a shit whether or not his dad saw them.
  • “Bill, they’re everywhere. You can stop.”
  • “I’ll st-stop a-as soon as I-I can say h-he’s my f-fucking boyfriend ou-outloud.”
  • “Then do it.”
  • “Stan..”
  • “Do you care anymore?”
  • HE DOESNT. HE REALLY DOESNT GIVE A SHIT BECAUSE HE’S SO FUCKING HAPPY WITH STAN.
  • “N-No”
  • The biggest smile breaks out on the curly haired jewish boys face oh my GOD
  • “Great, I don’t either”
Beetlejuice (Connor Murphy x reader fic part 1 of 2)

THIS IS A GHOST AU. LIKE CONNOR IS DEAD BUT YOU MEET HIM IN HIS LIL GHOST FORM. IT’S NOT AS LAME AS IT SOUNDS. OR MAYBE IT’S EXACTLY AS LAME AS IT SOUNDS.

Guys. It is like crazy long. And only part one. I’m going to post part two in a few days but I split them up because i’m still working on an ending. I honestly have no clue if anyone will wanna read this because it’s so fucking long. But this is like a Connor Ghost fic where you move into his house after his family moves out to get over Connor’s death and he haunts you but you guys become friends and idk this idea was so good in my head idk it I did it justice but maybe someone will enjoy. Part two will not be long because 1.) lack of motivation 2.) lack of ideas 3.) I’m making you guys read all this I won’t continue to waste more of your time. also this was so hard to edit so i’m sure there are one thousand mistakes im sosososos sorry.

TW: suicide, self harm, bullying, anxiety, depression, swearing, angst, fuck it’s sort of sad idk i feel for ghost connor

12,085 words yikes

You jolted up, your sleep disturbed by loud (and quite rude) banging at your bedroom door. You shot up quickly, trying to figure out what the hell was happening at…

You checked your phone which was shoved under your pillow, the illumination making you flinch from your unadjusted eyes.

It was 12:00.

The knocking ceased momentarily, which made you think you were hearing things due to exhaustion. Plus, there was no way it was your parents, seeing as they were the oldest middle aged people you knew, hitting the pillow before 9:30. You relaxed, regretting it seconds later when the knocking came back.

You brought your legs close to your chest, covering your mouth so whoever was there couldn’t hear your breathing. You decided to quickly get up, drawing the cover off your bare legs and moving nimbly to your empty closet, trying to avoid the maze of boxes that crowded your room. You’d just moved in, it was literally your first night at the house and probably the last day of existence. You thought this was a good neighborhood, and your parents had an alarm system. Surely your dad would come running to save you or maybe they’re calling the people. Or maybe the imagined murderer already killed them, coming for you to finish the job. You could feel the tears well up in your eyes as you closed the walk in closet door as quickly as you could. Fuck. Is this the part you were supposed to pray for forgiveness? Fuck. You had leftovers in the fridge from tonight that you were really looking forward to eat for lunch tomorrow. Then you thought how pathetic that was, having that be your last breathing thought of your fleeting life. Your door swung open, not hearing any footsteps but a sudden pounding on your closet door. You were shaking, hands covering your mouth, resulting in tears to flow.

“Zoe! I know you were in my room. I can’t get in. You fucking locked it you bitch. I’m going to fucking kill you with the key when I find it. Stop messing with my head, I don’t understand why you’re doing this to me.” The voice screamed out desperately, followed by angry sobs. Your tears ceased however. Zoe? What the hell? What’s happening? The closet door swung open, but no one was even there. All was quiet, you were so shaken up you couldn’t move for five whole minutes. It was like you were frozen. You were tired. Maybe, that was some sort of nightmare of sleep paralysis. Because where the hell did the voice come from. How the hell did your door fly all the way open without a single person in sight. You were hallucinating. That had to be it. From lack of sleep or from that weird black mold that grows in the walls you heard about in that short weird documentary on YouTube. That’s the only plausible thing. You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to blink away to exhaustion. You finally exited out of the tiny space, going to reach for the closet door knob to cease it shut. Before your hand even got near it, it slammed closed, causing you to open your eyes swiftly.

“What the hell is your problem, Zo-” A boy stood before you, looking half dead. Not even half, but fully dead. His eyes were bloodshot, he looked like he had bags under his eyes, and even in the dark, you could see a large circular purple mark all the way around his neck.

You fucking started screaming.

“Shit!” he cupped his hands over your mouth, the temperature of Antarctica hovering over your lips. “I didn’t realize Zoe had friends over. Shut up you’re going to wake up my parents.” This is when you started crying. Not only did he murderer sneak into your home, he was a complete lunatic. His parents? Zoe? He was fucking nuts and he was definitely going to kill you. You went to shove him away, but your hands went through, like he was mist. Now, you started to ball. You were the crazy one. You convinced yourself you developed schizophrenia overnight and were losing it, or it was definitely the black mold. He looked as scared as you did, backing away. He touched his stomach, which his hands didn’t go through at all. His face was unreadable, then he was unreadable, vanishing into thin air.

You didn’t sleep the rest of the night.

The next day you walked around void, scared to go even take a nap. You convinced yourself it was just a nightmare. A nightmare you don’t remember falling asleep to or waking up from but that’s what you decided. You needed to tell yourself it was fine. You also googled that hallucinating black mold, and that really only grows in really old houses, so you eliminated that. It was fine. Everything was fine. Your parents commented on how tired you looked. Brushing it off, you just told them how excited you were about the new house, and you couldn’t sleep. A lie, but since you were lying to yourself why not make some more up. Night quickly approached as you tried to fix up your room, figuring where your desk and bookshelves should go. Plus, nothing else really weird happened. You stayed up, busying yourself by decorating. When the banging started again. It was midnight

“Zoe!”

Fuck.

So, reality was hitting you. Were you crazy? Was this house fucking haunted. You never really believed in ghosts, but that wasn’t to say it didn’t scare the crap out of you. The door slammed open about, without a person there. You froze in place again, waiting for it to just appear again. It went straight to the closet again, banging loudly.

“Why are you doing this?” Similar words whimpering out of his mouth. You think about running into your parent’s room, like how you did when you were 5. But you were just stuck. The hallucination, or ghost, or whatever, had their back toward you. It was definitely a guy, his voice low and sort of nasally. He had shoulder length hair, you couldn’t tell if it was black or brown, and he was wearing a hoodie and jeans. He disappeared and the closet door slammed open, as it did the other night. Connor reappeared right in front of you, your eyes wide and just in utter shock.

He hissed: “Who the hell are you?” His eyes were a very dull blue with what seemed to be brown spot that now seemed more gray than anything. They were lifeless. Below was a nose that had a few bumps down the slope, and a wide mouth with a soft, but prominent cupid’s bow. His neck was even more visible than the night before, making your skin crawl as you peered at the purple mark that was the entire circumference of his neck. You subconsciously dug your nails into your palms, feeling pain within seconds. So you were definitely awake. Next was to test if this was a hallucination from sleep deprivation. You squeeze your eyes shut, as hard as you can you think your face might melt, scared to open them back up. He was still there, with a face of confusion mixing with anger. Okay, now it was ghost checking time. You gently went to put your arm through him, ghosts are just apparitions right? Your whole hand went through his body.

“W-what..?” he stuttered out, almost like a croak.

You pondered, how could he touch you but you couldn’t touch him. A realization came to you, causing you to jerk your hand back. He could hurt you but you can’t even defend yourself against him. Tears started to spill again.

“Please don’t hurt me.” you whimpered softly, completely submissive.

His eyes widen, freaked out that you thought he was trying to hurt you. “I’m not… I wouldn't…. how… what…” he was totally as confused as you were. Probably more scared than you, if that was even possible. This boy is dead and he doesn’t even know. The sound of footsteps approach your door, and the ghost was gone.

“Why is your light still on, sweetie?” your mother comes in, wincing from the brightness.

“Sorry, I’ll wrap it up soon.” you told her, again, like nothing was wrong. You quickly turned away, shielding your tears from her. She was oblivious and didn’t even notice. Your mom walks into your room, admiring your wall of old pictures of your friends.

“This is nice…” she says, trailing off knowing you weren’t happy with the move becasue you were an hour away from all your friends now. You hum meekly, not able to say a word about the topic. “I’m really sorry honey. It was just… You know your dad got this new job. And neither of us wanted to move your senior year but… We didn’t have a choice. You know that.”

“It’s fine, mom. I’ll meet new friends! And I’ll still have them! So I’ll have twice the amount of friends now.” you struggled to fake enthusiasm, but your mother’s density seemed to buy it

“Well. You gotta go to the new school tomorrow. It’s Monday now, so you gotta get up early. You can even take my car. Maybe I’ll ask your dad if he’d be willing to buy you your own! Uh? How about that.”

“Sounds great. That’d be really cool…” you tried to say with fervor, but it came off more sarcastic.

Your mom came over to you and planted a kiss on your forehead. “You know I love you, sweetie.” you nod in response as she turns to leave, turning the light out on the way out.

The boy didn’t come back again that night

—.

School sucked. You didn’t meet any new friends. Kids looked at you weird. The school was a lot bigger than your last one. You were late to one of your classes. And the walls were bare, with the exception of some random suicide prevention posters up. They gave you a sour taste in your stomach. The words “The Connor Project” almost screaming out to you as you passed them at the end of each hallway. Was Connor a kid at your school? Is? Was? That was even more disturbing to think about, there was a dead kid at your new school that everyone is probably mourning and you have no clue who this kid even was.

Unless.

No. No! That was completely ridiculous. Absolutely not.

Once you got home, you found yourself opening your laptop typing the name of the school and the name on the posters.

Connor Murphy -  Obituaries

You clicked the link, leading you to an obit from almost a year ago that contained a school picture.

Fuck.

The colored picture was a kid looking straight into the camera. A kid that had sad heterochromic eyes. A kid with a bumpy nose. A kid with a wide mouth with a define cupid’s bow. A kid was long brown shoulder length hair.

A kid that looked eerily similar to whatever you saw last night.

You ran downstairs. Your mom making god-knows-what in the kitchen with your dad.

“Did a kid kill himself in this house.” you blurted out. You didn’t want to put it that way. That sounded insensitive. But the words were already out there. You mom was shocked, eyes wide and she brought her lips in, as if she was sealing them. You’re dad pushed up his sleeves and tilted his head to the right, squeezing his eyes closed as if he was trying to read the lines he was about to tell you, like they were tiny little cue cards in his head.

“We should all sit down.” he calmly said. Good one, father. Rehearsed that perfectly. The three of you head over to the couch, you sitting on the chair opposite, like they were having an intervention for you that you started.

Your father started. “There was a family who lived here. The Murphy’s.” Christ. It’s been confirmed.

“They had two children. Zoe… and er…” your mom took control of the conversation but paused before saying his name. “and Connor.”

“Last year… Around this time. Connor…” Your mother covered her mouth, like she was going to start to cry. You wanted to roll your eyes at her fake sympathy. Your father took her hand.

“He hung himself, (y/n)”

Your mother chimes in, “(y/fathers/n)! You don’t have to be so brash. God! Sweetie, the young man, the Murphy’s son, committed suicide. He was very unhappy, sweetie. And if you’re ever going through anything-”

“Yeah, I know. I’ll talk to you guys about anything I’m going through or whatever.” You lied. Not necessarily about the depression bit, but more over on the side of telling them things. No way in hell were you going to tell them you thought the house was haunted. They’d think you were just paranoid. “Um… where did it happen?” They knew what you meant by it.

In his bedroom. Which, is my office now. That’s why we had you take the girls room. Just because you were destined to find out. And I know that wouldn’t sit right with you” Your dad said. You sighed, sinking back in your chair. After letting all the information set in, you went slowly back up to your room, pulling out your phone.

You googled: exorcists in my area.

Bad news was that this new town didn’t seem to have any exorcists nearby, and the closest one was about 3 hours away and charged a hell of a lot. Money you didn’t have. Money you couldn’t even ask your parents for because imagining what that conversation would be like was one that wouldn’t go. Not even well, just wouldn’t go. So you decided if you’re going to be living here for the next year before going off to college. It was ghost befriending time. You felt a little stupid typing into the search bar “how to befriend a ghost that doesn’t know he’s a ghost living in your house .” Nothing. You went for something more broad. “Befriending ghosts”. More, not many, results showed up, causing you to scan through them. You read almost every article on the first two pages. Even watched some videos (with headphones in case the parents would hear). Also, you may or may not have taken notes. It was getting late, and you heard your parents go to bed. Connor was going to knock any minute, your phone was at 11:59. You walked up to your door. And as soon as a knock happened, you swung it open. Connor angrily standing there, bewildered now.

“Shit.” he said under his breath. You signaled for him to come in. “I,” he paused. “What happened to Zoe? What happened to my parents? Where are they.” he was started to catch on, realizing  something was up.

Even though you were scared, you also felt like you owed him something. You weren’t sure why, but he needed to know. At least a little.

“They don’t live here anymore, Connor.”

“What… What are you saying. Where the hell are they? And… H-how do you even know my name?” he stammered over his words, not looking at me. I tried to avoid his neck.

“Connor… do you know what you are.”

“What the fuck do you mean?”

“Do you know what I’m talking about?” He ignores you. Instead, he’s focused on the mirror hung up on the wall. Shit, he can’t look at himself like that. He will freak. You follow his line of sight, seeing you. Just you. Of course, he wouldn’t be there. He’s not living.

“Oh my god…” he started to breath heavier and heavier, until tear start falling.

“I’m so-”

“Stop! This is some weird nightmare. Some weird long nightmare… That I’m only remembering bits and pieces of as I go more and more into my sleep. I’m going to wake up. I’m going to go to school. I’m going to live a miserable life and make everyone else miserable. I’m-” He’s basically wheezing for air. He fell to the ground, you going by his side, going to try to embrace him until he disappeared.

Well. That went superb.

It had been a couple of days, and you saw no sign of Connor. But you could still sense him lingering, the air always seeming colder when he was around. You’d call out his name. And… Nothing. It was like he was hiding.

Anyway, school was the same. But today was particularly bad, it was worse by one thousand percent than all the other days combined.

You overheard some kids talking in English. “It’s the anniversary.” one said, almost as if he was amused.

“Shut up. I don’t know why you think it’s so funny. You’re messed up.” a girl hissed at him.

“I’m just happy, that’s all.”

“Happy?” she was repulsed.

“Well, if you think about it. It was either us or him.” It clicked in you. They were talking about Connor.

“What the hell do you mean by that.” she asked. You asked the same question in your head. You pretended to look for a pencil inside your bag, turning your body 90 degrees so you could actually hear better as you rummaged through your bag.

The boy with glasses breathed out, “I mean that he would’ve shot up the school if he didn’t snap his neck. That’s what I mean.” the girl looked at him with utter disgust. “You act like that’s far-fetched.”

“Connor wasn’t like that. You didn’t know him.”

“Yeah, and you didn’t either.” they paused. You glanced back, trying to figure out why they stopped. They both peered over at you.

“Could you give us some damn privacy.” the boy growled. You quickly turned back, facing the front of the room, heart beating out of your chest. Shit. Shit. Shit. You already made an enemy, and you didn’t have any friends yet to comfort you. You held your breath for what seemed like the rest of class, zoning out of their conversation, the lecture, everything. The bell snapped you out of it. You tried to get out of there as quickly as possible.

“Hey.” a feminine voice called out. You turn around. It was the girl. “I’m really sorry about Jared. He’s a real jerk. I’m Alana.” She stuck out her hand, but you didn’t shake it. You couldn’t. Hand sweat levels were off the radar.

“I’m really sorry for eavesdropping. That was so not cool.” you blurted out.

“No! No, it’s fine, really.” she reassured you, making you comfortable enough to make eye contact. “I, uh, I know you’re new here. You’re (Y/N) (Y/L/N)! I’m not a stalker or anything i just have to know everyone’s name. I’m running for senior president!” she told you, getting off topic. Shaking her head, “Anyway, enough of the self-promo. Um, what lunch period do you have?

“3rd…” you told her.

“Oh me too! If you want, you can come sit with me.” you weren’t sure if she was being nice, piteous, or deceptive. But you accepted, you didn’t want to eat in the library for the following week, pretending to catch up on your new classes.

Lunch came around and you looked all over for Alana. She spotted you before you spotted her.

“(Y/N)!” she called out much louder than needed to, and everyone looked. Your day was just filled with embarrassment. You walk over, with your head down and sit across from Alana. The boy, Jared was there along with another boy who looked severely uncomfortable as well. You made a mental note, knowing that feeling all to well.

“Hey, Alana.” you decided against a verbal hello to the boys. So you just gave them a nod. Jared just kind of stared at you while the other kid smiled awkwardly back. This was weird. Alana was weird. Jared was weird. That kid was weird. And you were weird. All weird in different ways, so it made it even weirder. You all weren’t even on the same ‘weird’ page.

“So, (Y/N). Sorry about the whole ordeal I made in English.” Jared, the boy with glasses who yelled at you, said. It wasn’t a genuine apology. Alana gritted her teeth at him. “Since you’re new to this school, I’ll tell you a little of its history.” He said, almost demented. It reminded you of something the joker would say (Heath Ledger’s joker, may Heath Ledger rest in peace). “You see, today an important day. It’s the day we lost a fellow student. The anniversary of Connor Murphy’s death.” you gulped down. This was all way too much for you. “Great guy. Really added to the atmosphere here. You see all these kids mourning?”

No one seem to be upset. Oh… you got it. He was being sarcastic.

The awkward kid cut him off, “That’s enough.” he yelled, banging his hand on the table.

“Oh, Evan. I know you must be grieving greatly. You were his best friend after all.” Evan glared at Jared. So that’s his name. Everyone was dead silent. Like, the whole cafeteria. A girl got up and ran out. You swear to god, you recognized her. “Oh, look. Your girlfriend, Zoe. Aren’t you going to go get her?” Zoe? Fuck. Zoe was the sister. Evan followed her out, chasing behind.

“She still goes here.” you accidentally asked with concern aloud. Jared looked at you scarily, almost wanting to smirk. This conversation going exactly as he wanted.

“Oh! So you know about the Murphys? How’s that?”

“Jared, stop it.” Alana told him

“No!” he said, “How do you know about them?”

You couldn’t tell them. You weren’t about to let them know you live in that house. Jared would probably harass you some more.

“I- I don’t. I don’t know anything. I’m just gonna go-” you start to get up.

“No! You can’t go!” he announced. Alana pinched the bridge of her nose. “Tell us about it?”

“About what?” you asked back.

“Are you an idiot or something? The house. Alana told us you live in the house. Come on! Is it haunted? I feel like Connor was a troubled soul. Did you exorcise it? You really should look into that!” Your eyes darted over to Alana. She didn’t look at you. Is this why she wanted you to sit there. You jolted up, walking rapidly out of the cafeteria. You went to walk down one hallway but you saw Evan trying to comfort zone, which she seemed more tense and remote in his present. You could tell it would be better for Evan to just leave her alone, but you decided against interfering. You barely knew what the hell happened other than the death of this kid Connor.

School really sucked.

Hours past. It was about midnight and you couldn’t stop thinking about it. Really, you couldn’t stop crying. You started crying because of how no one seemed to be nice at this school, then you started bawling about how your old school was fine and how you missed all your friends and the familiarity and everything that this new place isn’t.

“Why are you crying.”

Your head shut up. Connor was at the end of your bed. He stared into the mirror. At nothing.

“You didn’t knock?” trying to make a joke but you accidentally let your voice crack.

The corners of his mouth pulled up, but quickly fell. He got straight to the point, “I’m dead, aren’t I?” he asked. All you had to do was look at him, and he got the answer from your eyes. He shut his eyes.

You wanted to get his mind off the matter. “School sucks. That’s why I’m crying, if you’re still curious.”

“If you go to the one I go to, you got that fucking right.” neither one of you corrected his wording of the present tense of “to go”. But you both knew.

“People are mean.” you murmured out.

“Yeah… I know.” he clenched his jaw. Shit. You guessed that school was a factor why he did… it. “Who was mean to you?”

“I don’t want to talk about that.”

“Then what do you wanna talk about because you don’t wanna talk about the fact I offed myself, so I’m kind of running out of conversation topics here.” You didn’t say anything. He squeezed his knuckles, digging his nails into his palms like you do sometimes. You didn’t know what to say, he kept going anyway. “It wasn’t Jared Kleinman, was it?” he asked bluntly. So that was his last name. “Fucking Christ, he’s such a dick.” his voice gets a little louder. Your face must of given it away. You made another mental note to show letting your thoughts show to easily. “Avoid him. Just ignore everything he says or does. You have to numb yourself at this school, okay.”

Your ghost was giving you survival tips on how to make it through senior year. It’s ironic, because, he didn’t exactly survive it himself. But this irony was not of the humorous sort. You felt sick.

“Hey, you alright?” He asked.

“Yes, I just feel dizzy.” the room really started to spin. It’s like you momentarily forgotten you were talking to a literal dead person and when you remember, you reacted the way any normal person would. You passed out.

“Hey, um, girl.” Connor never learned your name. “Hey, um. You aren’t dead too? Right.” Connor almost started to dryly smile to himself. “Because I’m the one who gets to haunt this house, not you.” He checked your pulse. It was strange. He seemed to be able to touch you, but you couldn’t touch him. He was having the same realization as you. He got up. Looking around your room for anything he could find more about you on. He looked along your walls, looking at pictures of you and your friends. There was one of you kisses some guys cheek. Connor got annoyed by it. Why did everyone have someone but him. He looked back at you, the unknown girl to him, and bought a cover up your body. Then disappearing

The following day of school, you guessed it, sucked. You’re starting to see a pattern here.

Alana tried talking to you again. You didn’t want to talk with her though, you didn’t even want to look at her. Jared just kind of would glance at you and quickly look away, guilt lingering in his stares. Then, Evan just kept his head down. Not that you were mad at him or anything. He didn’t do anything. Well, not to you. It seemed something was up with that awkward kid. Like, did he mess around with Zoe or was he a dick to Connor? He didn’t seem like either type, so you let it go.

Jared did approach you after school in the parking lot.

“(Y/N)!” he called out nervously. You kept walking, putting in your earphones to drown him out; drown everything out. You could tell he was still calling stuff out, but you couldn’t hear it over the lyrics of Karma Police. You felt a hand grasp your shoulder, turning you around roughly. Was this kid trying to fight you? He paused your music from your headphones. “Hey.” he said shyly.

“Please, just leave me alone.” You unpaused your music and started toward your car again. This time he ran in front of you, taking out your earphones.

“I’m sorry, (y/n). I don’t know why I was like that yesterday. Just, the whole Connor thing kind of tips me off.”

You cut him off not really caring to hear more, “It’s whatever. If you really wanna apologize, just leave me alone and that’d be more than enough.”

“Please, just wait. I don’t want you to think I’m this massive asshole. I mean, I am an asshole. But I was just vindictive yesterday. Something happened after Connor’s death. Something messed up that some kid did and, I uh, I helped him with it. And I still feel guilty. It was fucked up, and I’m still angry about it. So I took it out in you, god knows why.” His voice started to tremble. You started feeling bad, now.

“Jared, it’s fine.”

“It isn’t fine. None of it was fine. Evan got out of hand, and I was just as bad.”

Confused, you stated: “Evan didn’t really do anything.”

“Not yesterday. Before… The Connor Project. Fuck. Never mind, I’ll just see you tomorrow.” Jared quickly b-lined for his car. You stood there, not understanding one bit.

Maybe Connor will have some answers.

You took a nap when you got home. You haven’t been getting much sleep, and you knew you’d have to wake up at midnight to talk to Connor. Your life was getting weird.

You woke up to a weight at the edge of your bed. Your eyes fluttered open, Connor sitting before you. His hair in front of his face looking at one of your old yearbook. The one from 9th grade.

“You look really different now.” he simpered. Everyone’s 9th grade picture was cringy. “(Y/N) (Y/L/N).” Drawing out each name.

You tore it out of his hands. “So is this how you haunt people? Humiliation? Because the average ghost would flicker the lights on and off, or throw my valuables at me, or write murderous things in my wall with my cat’s blood.”

“You have a cat?”

“You missed the point.”

“Are you really trying to tell me how to be a proper ghost? Because I don’t believe you have that sort of experience under your belt.” he slyly stated.

Without even thinking (which you really should have fucking done), you remarked back, “says the one trying to tell me how to survive high school.” your eyes widen. Did you really just fucking say that. His jaw clenched, digging his nails into his palms, knowing he wouldn’t feel a thing. “Shit. that was supposed to be a joke. But I suppose jokes are funny, and that was just-”

He cut you off, “This sucks. This still sucks so much and I’m still in so much pain. But I can’t even hurt myself. I’m just stuck. Afterlife fucking suck. But high school was so bad, my family was so unbearable, I was so insufferable. Everything was starting to feel not real, I was numbing myself. No one was there for me. No one gave two shits about the freak. No one ever reached out. I had no one. No one to talk to. No one to vent to. No one.”

Your heart started hurting.  An “I’m sorry.” was all you could muster out.

“It’s too late.”

“I know….” you paused. You understood how he felt. Being alone. Being with people didn’t even stop that feeling. But you weren’t about to tell him that. “Do you know an Evan Hansen.” There you went with the present tense again.

The lights started to flicker, you would’ve made a joke if you both weren’t having a serious conversation about it. “Yeah.” he said simply, trying to not get angry. There was pause between the both of you before he continued. “I thought he might’ve been a nice kid. He wasn’t. He made fun of me just like everyone else… With this note. God, that stupid fucking note.”

“What did the note say.”

“Doesn’t matter. It was some prank. Jared probably put him up to it. They just wanted to get in my head.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Stop saying that.”

“I’m sorry.” He whipped his head at you, “Shit, I mean-”

“It’s fine, (Y/n). Just… try not to. Or whatever. I don’t give a fuck what you do or don’t do. Why’d you ask about Evan?”

“Jared brought him up to me today-”

Connor cut you off, “I thought I told you to avoid that fucking kid. He’s not a nice guy.”

“I tried. No, I tried. He like, hunted me down in the parking lot. Apologizing and telling me some stuff.”

“Don’t listen to him. He’s probably trying to make some joke. He thinks he’s the fucking class clown but he’s not even funny.” he paused, curious about what he might have said. “What was the stuff he told you.”

“Um…” you didn’t know whether to tell him about the Connor Project. It was obviously about him, but he didn’t seem to be fond of anyone at his school. Not even his sister. Now wasn’t the right time to bring that up. You know he’d be pissed about it. And now, it pissed you off, feeling like it was a pity project to make people feel better that no one actually cared about Connor.

“Woah, easy.” Connor said, sort of aggressively. He pulled your fingers off your palms, finding little red marks indenting your skin, the skin slightly broken. He brushed his fingers over the marks, you didn’t even realize you started to do that “I do the same thing. It just doesn’t hurt anymore.”

Connor didn’t re-ask what Jared told you. You two kind of talked about random stuff the rest of the night. Like your family (who were very different but similar in the rich neglectful way), your old lives (his living and yours where you used to live), and then music (which surprisingly was very similar! How many people can say their house ghost has a good taste in music. I’d take a wild guess and say next to none!) You stayed up until three, and both of you were getting tired (ghosts need sleep too apparently, existing in that form is draining.) You fell asleep first, curling up your body in a fetal position on your full size bed while Connor sat crossed legged. Before he disappeared, he had the realization that you were cute. Which wasn’t going to be good, finding you attractive.



“(Y/N)?” Jared whispered behind you. Snapping at you to get your attention. “Hey (Y/N) Pst! Hey, hey, (Y/N)!” he started yelling-whispering. “Heeeee-”

“What, Jared?” you hissed back. He leaned back in his desk, smiling widely at you in a goofy way.

“Wanna be partners?” he asked, pretending like you never said to leave you alone.

“Aren’t you usually with Alana?”

“She’s at some Student Council field trip for like three days, so I thought since neither of us have partners. Then we should just group up.”

You corrected him “You can’t find a partner.”

“Oh, I forgot. You’re miss popular. I mean, look at all the people begging to be your partner. What? You want me to get on my knees, profess my dire need of your partnership? Huh?”

“No don’t-” …And the boy was on his knees, making a scene.

“Oh, sweet merciful goddess of forgiveness. Please take mercy in me and take me on as your burden. Rise me up through the ashes and make me anew. Oh-”

“Okay okay. Please just stop… whatever you were just doing. Bring a desk over here.” you quickly told him, getting up to stop. You tried to hide your face. Half the class chuckled while the other rolled their eyes. So this was typical. Connor did tell you he was the class clown type. Though, Connor would’ve been a part of the half to roll their eyes.

The two of you started working. It was a MacBeth project. Recreating some scene in a modern day aspect. Jared wouldn’t shut up because how lame it was. Though, as you wrote the script, he would put his two cent on what memes to add. You ignored him.

You couldn’t help but to think about what Jared was telling me yesterday. You knew it was none of your business, but you couldn’t help to feel curious. Especially since you, well know Connor.

“Jared.” you said, not looking up from the paper you were writing on. “Um, what’s the Connor Project?”

He shifted awkwardly in his seat, “It’s a dead club.” You knew if he didn’t feel guilty about the whole thing, he would have chuckled at his accidentally pun. “The posters are still up just to make everyone feel better. Like the schools doing something when no one is.”

“Well, why isn’t anyone running it.”

“Why are you so curious about it all of the sudden. You didn’t want me to talk to you at all yesterday now you’re asking me questions about this. What’s the catch?”

“There isn’t one… I’m just… I don’t know. You, Alana, Evan, and Zoe just were really beat up about it. But no one else seemed to even flinch or bat an eye. Did Connor mean a lot to you.” you weren’t sure why you were asking questions you knew the answers too, people do that a lot to hear what they wanna hear.

“I don’t wanna to talk about it.” No one wanted to talk about anything, you thought.

“I see.”

Jared remarked: “You don't…”

“Why’s that.”

“You don’t know anything that went down. You know some kid killed himself and Evan started the Project. Which is now dead. T-the project, that is.”

“Well, I don’t know anything because no one will tell me.” You thought to yourself for a minute, waiting for a response. Evan started it. But Connor said that Evan wrote that mean note-

“Can we just get back to working in this stupid project.”

You complied. You still had no answers, a fuck ton of questions, and a memeless MacBeth project.

You got home later that day around 3. Connor was already in your room.

“You’re up early.” you say unphased. I mean, come on. A ghost lives in your house and you talk to him daily, what else could phase you at this point.

“Yeah, I haven’t really figured out why though.” he mumbled. He’s lying on your bed, staring at your ceiling. You notice scars all on his forearms. You don’t say anything. “I think my body thought it was 12 at night, when it was really 12 in the afternoon. I’ve been laying here for about 3 hours waiting for you to get home. Why don’t you have a clock in here.”

“Because I have a phone.”

“Yeah, but you don’t even have an alarm clock.”

“My phone is my alarm clock.”

He changed the subject, “How’s school.”

You shrugged your shoulders, looking around at everything other than him. He looked tired and so beat up. It made you incredibly sad. Connor caught on

“Is there a reason you won’t look at me.” he said, annoyed by your distance. “Am I that ugly?” That’s when you realized. Your ghost was cute. But he was hard to look at, seeing all the pain he had to go through. You wanted to start crying for him in a way. But what gave you the right to cry. Also, why did you refer to him as your ghost.

You made yourself make eye contact. Connor noted to himself that if he were alive, he would’ve blushed. But there is no blood running through his body anymore. “You happy. I’m just stressing out about this MacBeth project.”

“The modernization one?”

“Yeah, you did it?”

“I received it.” he said dryly, understanding what he meant. You looked away. He noticed. “Um, you had to partner up with someone right? Who’d you group with?” he asked, trying to steer back the conversation on the right road.

You couldn’t tell him, so you lied: “Alana. I’m not sure what her last name is.”

“Beck. It’s Alana Beck. You’ll ace that one. You’ll just have to deal with her annoying ass.” you smiled at him, reconnecting your eye contact.

“She seems okay.” you lied. You were still mad about what happened at lunch, and how she told Jared about your personal life. So you didn’t care for her.

“She’s, like, obsessed with how people see her.”

“Aren’t we all.”

“You don’t seem that way.”

“I am. I really want to make friends at this school.”

“No one’s worth your time…” he paused, going into a deep thought than coming out of it. “Alana, though. She does all this shit so other people think she’s this kind person like food drives. You know, that kind of shit. But she only does it for bonus points, like, so she can put it all on her college application.” You wondered if she was a part of the Connor Project?

“I mean, at least sees doing something.”

“But she’s not sincere about any of it. She doesn’t care.” he looked really sad again. Not even sad just empty. “I'm… I’m  just gonna go.”

“Wait, Con-” and he disappeared. Then, you felt really alone.

You tried facetiming your old friends. No one was able to pick up. It was Friday. And Fridays at your old town meant bonfire nights. Ugh, it was probably the first fire of senior year, and you were missing it. You were missing all of it. You went on instagram to see all their pictures. First, you looked at the old ones. Then the newer ones. The ones showing you weren’t missed. You noticed a message.

Jared Kleinman wants to send you a message.

Ew. No.

You read it anyway.

@JaredKleinmeme: hey i realized that this has to be a rough draft by monday and we only have half of it done. So we gotta meet up over the weekend. I would say my house but my moms are redoing our floors. So idk where you wanna meet.

No way were you coming here. Connor would have a fit. But you can’t borrow he car over weekends because your mom and dad both work during the day.

You got to message back.

Do you have a car? I don’t think we can come to my house?

He typed back within seconds.

No, i don’t. My parents only let me use theirs when i go to school.

Shit. Sure we can’t do yours???

Positive

Connor only ever seems to be in your room. Maybe if you guys stayed downstairs he’d never know.

Okay. We will make mine work.

Jared came over Saturday. You guys stayed in your living room. Everything was fine until your mom left.

Jared was focused on his computer. Writing out the rough draft.

Connor appeared at the stairs.

“Oh my god!” you screamed out, making Jared jump.

“What the hell?” Jared goes to look, but you grab his head to make him look at you. He turned flush.

“Sorry! I’m still getting adjusted to this house. Sometimes I just think I see things.”

Jared gets serious, “You don’t think it’s, like…. haunted or anything.”

He’s onto you. “Jared. Stop being ridiculous. I didn’t mean it like that.” Shit. Why did you make up that excuse?

“Yeah..” he chuckled meekly. “Sorry… I’m just… paranoid. Connor didn’t like me. For valid reasons. I wasn’t exactly nice to the guy-” a crash sounded upstairs. In a flash, Jared started collecting his stuff. “I-I-I’ll finish the project at home, just don’t worry about.”

“Jared. That was just my cat! It’s fine.” you lied. You didn’t have a cat.

“I know that this is going to sound crazy, but just in case Connor is haunting your house. He probably is a vengeful ghost and will kill me. I really have to go, okay. I’ll email you the script.” he practically ran out of your house. Connor popped up right in front of you as the door shut behind Jared, causing you to stagger back surprised.

“What the hell, (Y/N)?!” he fumed.

“No! What the hell to you, Connor!” you matched his anger. “Don’t do that shit when I have people over. Jared thinks you’re haunting the house now.”

“Well, aren’t I?” he hissed, “I can’t believe you lied to me. God, literally I told you to talk to anyone but him. But not only are you his friend, you’re inviting him over to your goddamn house. Are you trying to fuck him or something. That fucking virgin probably itching you to fuck him.” Connor was completely out of hand.

“What the actual hell, Connor. What’s your fucking problem!

“Jared! Jared fucking Kleinman is my fucking problem, (Y/N)!”

“Well he’s gone, thanks for that by the way! Just an FYI, I’d never even hug Jared if my life depended on it, let alone try and have sex with him. So, drop it!”

“Then what was he doing here.”

“A project! A stupid MacBeth one.”

“You told me you were working on that with Alana?”

Shit

You story fell through. “Shit… I… You know I couldn’t have told you.”

“Why are you working with him then?”

“Because he was the only one left in the class. Are you done interrogating me? Because now i have to worry about how to tell people my house isn’t being haunted by some freak.” You froze, your hands covering your mouth as if you could shove that last word back in, pretending you never said it.

“Go fuck yourself.” He screamed his voice cracking. You couldn’t believe you let that word leave your mouth. Especially directing it at Connor. You fucked up.

You didn’t see Connor for a full week. You tried apologizing, knowing he had to be around somewhere. He was. He always was. He’d watch you at all times. He’d watch you sit and watch TV, eat dinner with your family, watch you sleep, and write in your journal. You always felt his presence, the air always felt a little colder when he was around.

You couldn’t stand not talking to him.

The following Friday came. You looked at your friends pictures online. Then, you looked at the people from your new school pictures. And then you looked in the mirror. Coming face to face with yourself. All alone. Tears started rolling down your cheeks. You were so alone, it started to ache. Even your parents were out doing things.

You started talking out loud. “I’m so sorry, Connor. I didn’t mean that. I was… I don’t even know why I said it. I don’t believe that at all. I miss talking to you. You’re the only friend I have here and I miss you so goddamn much. I’m an idiot for saying that and I should never talk again because I always screw up and I’m the worst and I’m sorry I’m the person who moved into this house because I’m just like the people at our school. I belong there, I suppose. Even though I’m an outcast, a fucking loser. I am the freak Connor.”

“I guess we are both freaks then.” he appeared next to you on your bed. How didn’t you notice the weight before.

Tears burst out, and you cried loud. “I’m so sorry. You’re not a freak.” Connor brought you into a hug. You were shocked at first, his cold exterior touching you. You slowly put your arms around him. Not wanting to go through him.

You didn’t.

You were hugging him. Touching him.

“Connor?” you muffled into his chest.

“Mhm?” his face was buried in your hair.

“How am I touching you?”

“I think I’m letting you. I don’t really know. I don’t have a ghost manual.”

“That would’ve been handy.” the two of you chuckle lightly. But yours came out really weird because you were still crying. He squeezed you tighter.

“Can I tell you something?”

“Anything.”

“I read your diary…” you disconnect from him, staring into his eyes, bewildered.

“You did what?”

He continued. “While you were at school today. I was going through your room. And I found your black book, noticed there was writing in it. And I kind of read it all.”

“You… read… all of it?” You weren’t even mad. What you felt was worse, you were mortified.

“We never talk about your problems. I don’t know. I didn’t know you felt that way… So alone.”

You were beyond mortified. You couldn’t believe he read the entirety of your diary. “Oh god….”

“Don’t be embarrassed. I’m not gonna tell anyone. um… I mean I can’t. You’re the only person I talk to. Because I’m dead-”

“I get it, Connor.” you squeezed the bridge of your nose, not wanting to look at him. You wrote about everything in there.

“You don’t want to… you know. Um. Commit suicide.” Your head shot up, meeting his eyes. He looked so worried and sad. “Because, coming from me, it’s not at all worth it. Um, it didn’t solve anything. I almost wish I didn’t fucking do it. All I had to do was wait another year. Go to college. Pay for my own therapy. I could’ve done it. I was just so…. lost… and alone…. I couldn’t see a future. But you’re really great. You’re amazing. You’re like the best person I’ve ever met. And I wish I would’ve known you when I was alive. Maybe…. just maybe…” he quickly shut his mouth, knowing if he finished his sentence, he’d break. He turned away, knowing the tears that were welling up in his eyes were about to fall. You grabbed his hand, silently reassuring that it was okay to cry. Neither of you said anything for the rest of the night. You both just laid in your bed, staring up at the ceiling, innocently holding hands.

Both of you felt a sense of belonging for the first time in a while.

You shot up from sleeping the next morning, Connor’s body gone.

He read your diary. Fuck. You wrote about that one kid Tyler at your old school. That weird, awkward, awful sexual encounter with Tyler. Oh, my god. You’re humiliated.

He didn’t bring it up all weekend though - thank god - hopefully he never would. But then school came around Monday.

“Hey, um, (Y/N)?” a voice questioned you from behind Turning around, your eyes met Zoe Murphy’s. Shit. “I’m Zoe… er Murphy.”

“Yeah, um. I remember you. From the house sale, that is.” you stammered. Why was she talking to you.

“Oh, cool. Um, are you eating with anyone at lunch today? Because, I wanted to see if you wanted to sit with my friends and I? I’m just super confused on what we are doing in here and you seem to be the only one in class who actually knows what’s going on. And I’m trying to get in Juilliard, and I need to show them I’m not only good at playing in the Jazz band, but also at astrophysics. But if you’re busy, or sitting with other people, I totally understand.”

You shifted in your seat. You weren’t busy or sitting with others. But you didn’t want to sound pathetic. “I’m behind on some work-”

“Oh…” she looked incredibly sad. Like almost Connor-level sad. “That’s fine. Sorry, it was probably really weird for me to ask you like that-”

“No! N-no no no. It’s fine. Actually, I can sit with you! I’m not that behind.”

She smiled slightly, almost so subtly; you’d miss it if you blink. “Awesome! I sit at the first table by the window near the gym. Or, um, I could meet you-”

“Nope, I’ll just come to the table.”

“Sweet.” she nodded her head. “Um, I’ll see you there then?”

“Yeah… Um, for sure.” you said with weak excitement. Zoe waved and walked in the opposite direction.

What does she want now? People just don’t invite others to randomly sit with them. . Especially not the girl who moved into your old house who hangs out with your dead brother. Unless of course if you’re Alana and you wanted something out of it. Did Zoe want something more than a lesson in astrophysics from you?

The first half of the day dragged on, you not really being there entirely because your thoughts kept drifting off to Zoe, or Connor, or Jared, Alana, or even Evan. Didn’t Jared say something about Evan dating Zoe, and Connor said something about a mean note from Evan. Nothing made sense. You weren’t just a step behind, you were a full mile.

Lunch finally came, and you found Zoe right away. She was watching the door for you to come. There were a few of her friends at the table. They all smiled and said hi when you sat down. You caught none of their names. Zoe forced a conversation out of you. She kind of reminded you of your old friends: nice, pretty, talkative, cool without trying. You told her that. She smiled bigger, almost more subtly. In the middle of your explanation of spectroscopy, she interrupted you.

“(Y/N), what are you doing after school?”

Hanging out with your dead brother. You decided to go with: “Um, nothing I can think of.” instead.

“Cool. Um, do you wanna maybe hang out after? Um, we can get coffee? If you uh, like coffee.” she asked, you couldn’t help but to think it was a trap.

“I do, I do. But I have to get the car back for my mom in time for her to go to work-”

“I could pick you up. I mean, I know where you live.” she tried chuckling.

You didn’t know how to get out of this one. And a small part of you yearned for any type of friendship between the living. “Uh… are you sure? I could ask if my mom could just drop me off?”

Zoe reassured you, “No! No, it’s fine. It’s not out of the way.”

“Only if you really want to.”

“Yeah, of course! Do you wanna go right after school?”

“Do you actually just wanna follow me to my, er, the house?” you felt weird using personal pronouns when it previously belonged to her. She nodded, not bothered by it though.

You regretted it as soon as you made the official plan. This was gonna be weird.

This was weird.

Zoe followed behind, even though she knew the way better, she probably knew the back roads. You parked the car in the driveway, and quickly got in hers. She was staring at the house, looking at Connor’s room window.

“I live in that one.” Pointing at her old room, knowing it was hers, to distract her from Connor.

“That was mine!” She says excited. “The closet’s really nice.”

You forced out a laugh, sounding real enough. “I know! I love it. Most of my clothes are still in boxes because I’m just too lazy to put them all away.”

“No way! Me too. More than half of them are still in tubs on my floor. My mom is so annoyed by it. She’ll probably hang them up soon if I don’t.”

“My mom would never do that. She’s been in my room once. Maybe twice. She doesn’t really care what I do.” Zoe frowns at this. “N-not like she doesn’t care about me or anything. Just like what I do. I have more freedom than I know what to do with?”

“Oh… That’s actually really cool. Do you want to come to a party on Friday then?” Zoe blurted out, feeling like she had been too forward.  

“Um…” you hadn’t been to a party since your old town. What were these parties like. How do you dress? How do you act here?

“You could come over to my house, er, new house and get ready with me and the girls.” she made it sound appealing. This was a chance to meet friends.

“Yeah. Um, I’ll think about it.” Or this was a chance for everyone to find you weird. You were caught in the middle of your two-sided thoughts.

“Cool.” she stated pulling into the coffee shop. “I go here all the time. They have really good Matcha Tea. I’m not a huge coffee or tea person, but Matchas really good.”

The two of you went in, ordered (both getting Matcha, Zoe was right, it was really good), and sat down. It was odd at first. It felt like an awkward blind date that neither party wanted to be there. But after a while, you warmed up. You told her all about your old town, school, and friends. She told you about your new town, your school, and her friends.

“What are parties like here, anyway?” you gushed. “I’ve only been to parties where I know everyone. We play pong, drink, couples hookup in bathrooms, and then everyone talks about it at school the following Monday on who won at pong, who got blackout, and who had sex.”

She laughed wholeheartedly, “It’s basically the same. But we play flip cup.”

“Shit, I don’t know the rules for that.”

“Don’t worry. It’s easier than pong. Just watch what the people do before you.”

You both laugh, having genuine fun. She didn’t ask anything from you. Or use you for her advantage.

Something was off.

But you left it alone. She drove you home. It was around 8. You knew you had to work on some homework before bed, even through her protests. She told you to keep sitting with her at lunch, if you wanted to. You agreed.

You walked into your house smiling.

“Why was Zoe’s car in front of the house?”

Connor asked, scaring you half to death the minute you entered your room.

“God. You need to stop just popping up. You’re going to give me a heart-attack.”

“What? So you wanna hang out with her now? Are you sick of me? Did she tell you things about me. All the terrible things I did to her? Did you talk about me? No, that’d be ridiculous. She’d think you were crazy.”

There Connor went off again, rambling out his anxieties. “Slow down, Connor. We didn’t talk about you at all. You didn’t even come up.”

“Of course I didn’t, why would she talk about me. She’s probably glad I’m gone.

“That’s not true at all. The day… The Anniversary. She was crying in school. And she just looks sad all the time.” his face fell with even more grief. “Not like… ‘All the time’, like just when she thinks about you.”

“I thought you guys didn’t talk about me.”

“We didn’t. Sometimes you can just tell.”

“She wants something, (Y/N).”

“Like what. If she did, she would’ve asked today, not asked if I wanted to sit with her at lunch or go to this stupid party on Friday.”

“You’re going to a party? Who’s house?”

“Maybe… and I don’t know? I don’t even know if I’m going.”

“Don’t. Nothing ever good happens at party.”

“Are you, like, a party expert?” you ridiculed.

“Shut up. I’ve heard what happens.”

“I’m headstrong, Murphy. Now get out, I have to change.”

“I’ve seen you change before…” he said nonchalantly.

You turned red, “What!?” you hissed.

“I thought you knew I was there. You just walked in and threw off your shirt and pants.”

“Oh my god.” you held your head in your hands.

“ I tried to leave, but i still have to open doors to get to places. A common misconception about ghosts by the way. Or I just haven’t figured it out yet…” he didn’t realize your embarrassment, continuing to ramble.

You cut him off, “You’ve seen me naked?” you exclaimed.

“No! Just bra and underwear! Not full on. Not like Tyler.”

“Tyler?” you asked confused, then it hit you. “Oh my god!” You run to your bed, burrowing your face from all the humiliation. “Get out, you perv!” You shouted, throwing a pillow through him. “Wait how can things go through you if you can’t go through them?”

“Exactly what you said. Things can go through me, but I can’t go through them. Or at least I haven’t figured it out.”

You didn’t actual care at that moment, your distress taking over of all other worries. “Oh my god. Just get out.” you groaned, huffing into a body pillow.

He laughed as he closed the door, letting you get changed. “Lemme know when you’re done.”

You wait a minute, making sure you can’t sense him in your room. He may have been lying about the whole he couldn’t go through things. That’s when you decided. You were definitely only going to change  in your closet from now on.

Friday came. Sitting with Zoe at lunch was a lot of fun. She never brought up Connor or the house. I mean, why would she bring Connor up to you? To her knowledge, you don’t know him. You went home and immediately started getting ready for the party.

“Are you really going to that stupid fucking thing.” Connor groaned.

“Yes.” you mumbled, doing your hair in your mirror.

“Wouldn’t you rather hang out with me.” he huffed, lying on your bed, reading something.

“We hang out every day.” You looked over at him, realizing your diary was in his hands. “S-stop reading that.” you turned red, getting up and tackling him, trying to get it out of his hands. He held his one arm out, using the other to gently stop you. Your whole body was basically straddling him. Then, he turned red. Well, as much color as a ghost could get. You finally retrieved it, not noticing his bashfulness. “Ha!” you announced. Closing the book and putting in back on your bookshelf.

Connor just fell back on your bed, just staring at you. He never noticed how your hair framed your face, or how your eyes got all sparkling when you were happy, or how the corners or your mouth would twitch up when you blushed, revealing subtle dimples.

“What are you looking at. Looks like you’ve seen a ghost.” you joked, laughing at it yourself.

“Stay here. With me.” he asked vulnerable.

You paused, his tone throwing you off. You shook it off. “Come on, Con. You know I gotta go out and seem social. People are gonna start to think that I’m staying home all the time to hang out with my only friend, who’s a ghost.” You’d never called him Con before. He liked it.

“Not a chance people are going to start thinking that…” he smiled, finding that scenario completely ridiculous. And finding you completely perfect.

“I’ll be home tomorrow! All day, and we can play video games or watch movies downstairs when my parents leave.”

“Why do that tomorrow? When you could do that tonight?” Connor kept trying. You walked over to him, giving him the ever so lightest peck on his forehead. His stomach felt like it was filled with butterflies. He got that saying now.

“Tomorrow, Connor. I promise.” A beep came out from outside. “That’s your sister. I gotta go. How do I look?”

“Perfect.” he said glumly, but he meant it fully.

“I’m serious, Connor.”

“Me too…” you looked at him funny. “Go, she’s going to honk again. She’s the most impatient person ever.”

“Okay, okay.” you stood before the mirror, brushing your hair in the front, then to the back, then to the front again. Letting out a big, nervous sigh, then heading toward the door. “Bye-bye Murphy. Don’t have too much fun without me!” you called out, your door slamming shut behind you. Connor looked out the window. He meet eyes with Zoe, who was staring straight at her old room window, making what seemed like eye-contact with him. He basically ducked to the floor.

Once you got in the car, Zoe seemed panicked. “Hey, what’s wrong? Are you good.”

She quickly faked a smile, “Yeah! No, I’m good! We gotta pick up the rest of the girls.” Something was up with her.

The night sped by. You got the girls, went back to Zoe’s, touched up hair and makeup, and went to the party. It was actually only like three blocks away from your house. You were all immediately handed shots as soon as you guys walked through the door. And then a red solo cup of beer. And then a mixed drink. This house party was a lot bigger than the ones back home. You had to drink more to feel comfortable, and you sort of blacked out. Coming in and out of consciousness. At one point you were playing flip cup (and dominating), then you were doing a beer bong with Zoe (the girl somehow beat you there, not coming across as the drinking type), then you ended up in a bathroom. On a counter. With your legs and arms around some guy. Who was making out with you. What the heck were you doing.

“Connor?” You drunkenly said.

“No, er, Jared.” that sobered you up. You shoved him off, crossing your arms.

“Oh, my God. No.” you wiped off your mouth. “Hell, no. What the fuck Jared?”

“You started making out with me first. Why the hell did you just call me Connor.” Shit. Why did you call him Connor. You jumped off the counter and stormed out of the room. Someone grabbed you by the shoulder.

“(Y/N)! I’ve been looking for you.” Zoe slurred. You tried focusing on her face, but it was spinning.

“Listen, Zoe. I gotta go home.” you said back, definitely slurring your words too.

“No! You can’t!”

“Yeah, I gotta the other girls are here. You’ll be fine.”

“No, it’s not that. I need to ask you about Conmor.” She mispronounced his name, somehow slurring an M into it.

“What do you mean. I didn’t know him Zoe.” you said nervously

“No. You do. Jared told Alana that you said you see things. And there was a bang in your house and you pretended it was a cat. But you’ve never talked about a cat before. It was like you were trying to cover up. And you kept asking questions.”

“No. No it’s not like that. I just see the posters every day.”

“I saw him, (Y/N)! And you just remind me of him. Like, not like you’re mean but like, I don’t know, your humor. Like, you say things Connor would from time to time. And sometimes, I swear you smell like him. It’s like you talk to him. And I saw him, (y/n), in your room.”

Shit. Shit shit shit. You were in deep shit. Everyone is going to think of you as a fucking ghost whisperer. You had to fix it.

You started laughing, cackling.

“Zoe. Are you serious right now? Are you that drunk? We gotta find you a bed. God, you’re a treat. I haven’t laughed this hard since my old town. Wow.” you pretended to wipe a tear from your eye, humming out the last bit of fake laughs. “I’ll see you Monday.” You turned around and your smirk fell. You had to get out of there. You stumbled down the stairs. Looking for where you came in. Why does being drunk make you lose motor control and your sense of direction?

You somehow made it out and you were walking back home, tripping over your own two feet. You didn’t even realized you made it inside until you had to throw up. You bolted upstairs, going to bathroom and letting all the different kinds of alcohol up from your stomach into the toilet bowl

“(Y/N)?” You rose your head up. Shit, was that your dad.

“Occupied, Dad.” you called out, feeling like that didn’t sound drunk at all. It sounded very drunk.

“Let me in, it’s Connor. Your parents aren’t here.”

“No. I’m gross right now.” you whined out. You were too drunk to talk to him. “I don’t want you to see me like this.”

“Who the fuck am I going to tell. The dead bugs in your window?”

“I don’t care about who you tell. I’m scared of what you’ll think of me.” There was a pause. “Connor?”

“Let me in, (Y/N).” he said so gently and nice, that itself almost made you blush. You crawl over to the door, using the knob to pick you up and then unlock it, not even realizing you locked it in the first place. Connor opened it slowly, peeking his head in as if we didn’t want to startle you. You leaned against the wall, pointing a finger at him.

“I drank a lot.” you confessed, trying to smile and act not as drunk as you were.

“Yeah, I can smell it. Are you ok-” you interrupt his sentence by running to the toilet. He followed behind, holding your hair behind you. He saw that in a movie once. He patted your back, which made you smile into the toilet.

“Isn’t it gross that we put our face so close to the toilet when we puke.” you joked, which did derive a laugh about of him.

“You’re drunk, (Y/N).”

“I know.” you lean your head against the toilet set. “Will you help me up? I wanna brush my teeth and gargle.” Connor complied, helping you up by the waist and leading you over to the sink. You got your blue tooth brush and started brushing.

“Uh, (Y/N)… You forgot the toothpaste.” he shyly told you. You started to laugh.

“Oh yeah, can you help?” he picked up the toothpaste for you and squeezed (a lot) on. Round two: you started brushing again. Making a lot of toothpaste foam. Connor just laughed. Looking at you in the mirror, only slightly annoyed he couldn’t see himself. Even like this, with all that shit dripping out of your mouth, you still looked pretty to him. He wondered what he looked like. It this state he’s in. He noticed he still had the scars on his wrists. He couldn’t help but wonder about his neck. He couldn’t help to think it’d be unfair for him to be able to look at you all the time and you had to look at the mess he was.

You brought him out of his thoughts, “Connor.”

“Mhm?”

“Stop staring at me. You’re making me self-conscious.” you blushed madly in the mirror. He looked away, allowing you to spit all the toothpaste out of your mouth. You slowly turned the water on, missing the handle the first try, and rinsed you mouth off. You took the Listerine and just started drinking it. Connor quickly took it away from you. You gargles the rest of what you had in your mouth as Connor reached for the cup. You almost spit all over his arm, if he wasn’t able to let stuff go through him.

“I’m glad you a ghost in that instance. Because that would’ve sucked.” He noted you said instance, but didn’t say anything. He walked you to your room, “How many people can say there dead best friend helps their drunk selves out. Zero. I win!” you giggled.

Connor rolled his eyes, “You’re going to be hung over tomorrow.”

“Nooooo…” you retort, as if you were a child.

He sniggered, “We aren’t going to be able to play games or watch movies. Guess I’m going to have to read your diary again.”

“Connor! Anything but that. I’ll stay awake. The less drunk I am when I go to sleep, the less hung over I’ll be. Science.” you told him, realizing the two of you were on your bed.

“No, you should go to sleep. The longer you sleep, the less hung over you’ll be. That’s Science.”

“But I don’t wanna go to sleep.”

“And why’s that.”

“Because I want to talk to you more.”

“We can talk tomorrow.”

“No.” You rise up, your face getting close to Connors. “I wanna talk now.” you whisper.

“A-about.” Connor stammered out. You were so close to him. He’d never been this close to anyone.

“Everything…” you close the distance, placing your lips on his. He’d never kissed anyone before. He never thought he would when he was dead. He kissed back for a split second, until he remembered.

He was dead. He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t let you kiss a fucking dead person. He was probably cold and disgusting. He broke the kiss.

“I’m so sorry!” you panicked, creating unwanted distance between the two of you.

“Why did you do that.” Connor hissed, getting up and pacing.

“I don’t know. I’m- I’m sorry. I’m drunk.”

“Don’t ever do that again.” Connor jumped up and stomped out the door, disappearing mid-shut.

You were mortified. Your thoughts raced, thinking of everything that happened, until you passed out from all the alcohol.

Happy Trails

Pairing: Mike Faist x Reader

Warning: Mentions of some swear words and sex-related stuff, a bit fluffly at first but steamy towards the end ;-)

Prompt: After a year being the understudy for Zoe Murphy, you finally got the role of Veronica Sawyer in Heathers as it debuts in Broadway. The entire gang is happy for you (((until Mike finds about the choreography for Dead Girl Walking))).

Requested: Nope. (but someone should have)

Word Count: 1918

Note: OKAY I KNOW that heathers only had an off-broadway production but lets pretend that it makes a broadway debut here. Hope y’all enjoy this. ((also, if i made a part 2 for this it would me smut smut smut so hmu if u want that to happen)) 

MASTERLIST

————-

“You have to answer it.”

“Ben’s right, Y/N. This could be it. You could be a real star.”

“Dude, we won best musical this year. She’s already a star.”

“I know but she could be a lead star this time, not an understudy star.”

“Way to help in calming down those nerves, Will.” 

“Alright, everybody just shut the fuck up!” You exclaimed, silencing everyone in the room. 

Your eyes dart back towards the vibrating phone sitting on the table, chewing your lip as you continue to grow anxious. 

Everyone in the room stared at you with wide eyes. They didn’t know how to help you in a time like this. A few months ago you auditioned for the role of Veronica Sawyer for ‘Heathers: The Musical” as it makes its Broadway debut for the first time. You remembered watching a show from its off-Broadway production a few years back and you instantly fell in love with it, especially with the way Barrett hit those notes in every single song. Since then, you worked your way into getting the role of Veronica. That included hours of voice, dance, and theatre training. 

Then you got a job. You became the understudy for Zoe Murphy in Dear Evan Hansen and you couldn’t be happier. You met Mike Faist and to say that the two of you weren’t close would be a lie.

It started off with innocent flirtation, which lead to dirty innuendoes, and ended with plain admiration from one another. You liked him, you liked having him around you. He’s always there to make you feel confident with your abilities and he never fails to show you just how talented you are. He truly brings out the best in you.

You liked your job. You got the chance to spend time with an amazing team and an even more amazing cast. But when the announcement on the search for Heathers: The Musical cast members was made, you knew you had a shot at making your dream a reality.

Now here you are, sitting in a circle with all your cast members. Mike was sitting beside you, rubbing your back softly as you contemplated on answering the call.

“Okay, but what if I don’t get it?”

Everyone groaned. Will stood up and made his way towards the table. “You will never know unless you take the call.”

You quickly stood up, running towards the table and shielding the phone from Will. “Back to where you were! No one’s touching that phone but me.”

“You better answer it now! Before they hang up, Y/N.” Ben said loudly.

You kneeled in front of the table, still hesitant. “I might not even get the role. Bad news is only bad news if you answer the phone.” You say, chuckling nervously.

You hear Mike shuffle behind you. “For the love of God,” Before you can even turn around, Mike put a hand on your waist and reached for the phone with the other. You shriek in surprise as you grab a hold of his wrist. 

He raised his eyebrows towards your grip and then to you, signalling for you to let go. When he doesn’t feel even the slightest bit of falterer in your hold, he uses his other hand to grip your hand and peel it off his wrist.

“I got it.” He mouths to you, smiling. You nodded slowly as you chew your lip. 

It’s a bad habit of yours; to chew your lip whenever you get nervous. Mike’s eyes take a glance of your swollen lip, momentarily thinking how it would feel against his own before pressing the green button on your phone.

You watched in horror as he takes the call. “Hello? Yeah, Y/N isn’t around but i can pass your message along.” He spoke into the phone.

You tried standing up as you possibly could not sit still in a moment like this when you realized Mike still has not let go of your hand. He gave a light tug towards his direction, motioning for you to sit back down.

You shook your head and proceeded to stand up, dragging him with you as you started pacing across the room.

You mumbled a series of oh no’s and oh god’s while the rest watches the two of you.

“They are dating, right?” Kristolyn points out.

Laura shakes her head. “They’re both too blind to even admit that they like each other.

“But it’s right there. Mike is literally being the supportive boyfriend right now.” Will says, watching as you nearly tripped on a pillow.

Mike suddenly pulls you to his side to keep you from falling over.  

“You okay?” He mouthed at you. You nodded, feeling your entire face heating up as he kept his hand on your lower back, still talking to the man on the phone. 

And just look at that. They’re so oblivious, it’s not even funny anymore.” Will continues. Everyone hums in agreement when Mike ended the phone call.

All eyes were on Mike as he took a deep breath.

“Y/N…”

“I didn’t get it. It’s okay. I still hav-” You started to walk away, head down as you tried to stay optimistic.

His next words made you stop in your tracks. 

“You got it.”

Your head snaps towards the long-haired man who held your phone in his hand.

“What?” You spoke softly, tears welling up. 

He smiled at you, handing you your phone. “You are now Broadway’s very first Veronica Sawyer.”

It took five seconds for his words to sink in and everyone started cheering. The room filled with cheers of “Congratulations!” and “Happy trails!”.

You felt your heart was going to explode. Words could not express the joy you were feeling. You did it. All your hardwork has paid off. 

The tears finally fell and Mike opened his arms, a huge grin plastered on his face.

You immediately ran up to him as he held you. His lips move to your ear to whisper. “I am extremely proud of you.

You smiled as you nuzzled your face against his chest. “I couldn’t have done it without you.”

“No, Y/N. This was all you.”

The cheering still hasn’t died down. Everyone was happy for you.

“My fake daughter’s leaving!” Michael exclaimed, looking at you with a pout.

You pulled away from Mike’s embrace as you giggled at Michael’s comment.

“Technically, I’m your back-up fake daughter.”

“Still my fake daughter.” 

Laura and Kristolyn threw their arms around you.

“Congratulations on your first lead role, Y/N!” Laura said.

You reciprocated their hug. “Thank you.” You say, your cheeks starting to hurt a little from smiling.

Ben quickly made a beeline towards you and hugged you really tight as he spun you around. You giggled loudly when he continued shouting congratulations. He put you down, pressing a kiss on your cheek.

“You’ll be great out there. It was the easiest job I had, falling in love you every performance.” He said, smiling at how cheesy his statement was.

You thanked Ben with with a smile. Suddenly, you felt arms wrapping around you from behind. You turned your head around to see Mike smiling down at you.

“Jealous?” You said jokingly, chuckling at his actions. He tightened his grip around you. 

“Maybe.” You felt him press a kiss on your temple, leaving a tingling feeling on your skin.

That alone made your entire face red. You tried hiding it but it was too late.

“Look! She’s already red from a kiss on the cheek. Imagine how red she’s gonna be during the choreography for Dead Girl Walking.” Will spoke, laughing loudly with the rest of the cast.

“What’s with the choreography?” Mike asked innocently.

Kristolyn giggled. “You seriously don’t know?”

Mike shook his head. “I know the songs but I haven’t seen the choreography.”

Ben sighed, pulling out his phone. “C’mere, I’ll show you a bootleg of-”

“No!” You shrieked, pushing Ben’s hand away from the two of you. At this point, your face was already red like a tomato.

Mike shrugged. “I’ve danced all my life. I’m sure I can help Y/N with that if it’s that hard, right?” He said, looking down at you with an innocent smile.

Everyone started laughing as you felt your face heat up even more, imagining Mike playing as JD. It would be a lie if you said you weren’t turned on with that. That idea had you unconsciously rub your thighs together. 

That sudden movement had Mike clearing his throat, adjusting his position. “Are you alright?” He whispered.

You nodded quickly, not able to form words at the moment.

“Mike, it’s a sex ballad.” Laura chuckled.

Mike’s eyes widened as his grip around you tightened even more, fingers digging into your hip. “What?”

“Listen to the lyrics. It’s about Veronica having sex with JD. The choreography is pretty much making out and humping in front of everyone else.” She continued.

Mike’s eyes widened, pulling you ever so slightly away from his chest so your behind wouldn’t feel the tent forming in his jeans. His mind couldn’t stop picturing Y/N rehearsing that song with him. 

“Oh.”

You couldn’t feel your face anymore. The redness has already creeped down to your neck while everyone else talks about Heathers.

“How do the actors keep it down during that song? Because if it were me, it would be too hard.” Will stated, laughing at the double meaning of what he just said.

You cleared your throat. “I guess the actor uses a cup? or maybe the actor isn’t into girls?” You say, voice faltering a bit.

“Oh. Well if that were Mike, doing that would be a bit difficult. Right?” Will said, tilting his head towards Mike.

Before he could answer, you pulled way from him. “I’ll just splash some water on my face alright? I’m not feeling too well.” You said quickly, making your way towards the bathroom.

You closed the door behind you with a bang and leaned towards the sink, splashing water on your face. You were getting too turned on with all the comments they were giving. Right now, you had to take your mind off the gutter before it gets too much. 

With your hands still covering your face, you heard the door open. You lift your head, only to see Mike standing a few meters away from you.

“Mike, this is the women’s bathr-”

“I can help you rehearse.” He said, cutting you off.

The tension in the room was thick. You tightened your grip on the sink as you felt your knees weaken.

“What?”

He moved closer towards you until he had you pinned against the sink. He placed his hands on your hips, pushing your shirt up just enough for him to brush his thumb against your skin. He brushed your hair to the side of your neck and you felt his lips against your neck.

You inhaled sharply. He pressed a tender kiss behind your ear.

“I can help you rehearse, ” He whispered. You felt him take your earlobe between his teeth, sucking on the skin softly.

You whimper as he tightens his grip on your hips, his foot pushing your legs apart. You pressed your center against his thigh, rutting your hips against his denim jeans. All his attention is still on your neck as he leaves hickeys, sucking and nibbling on the exposed skin. 

Your breathing quickens. 

“…You just have to tell me how it goes.”

| part 2 here |

Tainted Love (part 2)

Summary: Soulmates are supposed to be a wonderful thing, that is until you find out who your soulmate is. You guessed it, Lance “The Fucker” Tucker.

Pairing: Lance x Reader

Warnings: swearin’

A/N: I’m so glad you guys like Tainted Love so far! Here ya go :) As always, I’ll fix any mistakes in the morning.


After watching Maggie’s routine, Lance claps his hands and turns to the blonde. “Hope. Office. Now.”

With a frustrated sigh, she follows him to the office and shuts the door behind her, waiting for him to rant on about how Maggie can do so much better. But, he didn’t.

“Well, she’s as good as gold. You’re not shit after all Hope.” Lance smiled at her. “Oh wait - you are.”

Hope rolled her eyes. “Shut your whore mouth.” she snapped. “And why did you bring me in here if you were going to tell me that? I thought you were gonna chew my head off or something.”

“I brought you in here because of her.” he nods his head over to you. “Who is she?”

Hope glances back at you, watching as you high five Maggie for doing a good job before starting a conversation with Ben.

“She’s my best friend.” Hope says, turning back to Lance. “Why?”

He shrugs, hoping to play it cool. “Nothin’ I just wanted to know who she was. She seems nice.”

“She is, but she can be a bitch if she needs to be.” Hope tells him and his eyes are now focused on you.

The way you smile, the way you tuck away your hair behind your ear, all make you seem so perfect. It was insane for Lance to be thinking like this because, well, Lance never thought about anyone like that. He had this foreign feeling inside him and he’d never admit it out loud but he kind of liked it.

“Give me her number.” he turns to Hope with a serious look in his eyes.

Hope’s face contorts. “What the fuck, no.”

“Why?”

“Because she’s my best friend and I won’t let her be another notch on your belt, asshat.” she snapped. “She’s too nice of a person to deserve what you’ll do to her.”

“Oh, and what exactly will I do to her?” Lance folds his arms across his chest as he glared at the blonde in front of him.

“You’ll lead her on to believe you actually like her, fuck her, then throw her aside and move on to your next victim. You won’t care about her feelings because all you can care about is yourself. It may not look like it, but she’s a sensitive girl, Lance. And I won’t let you fuck her up.”

Lance watches Hope exit the office and walk towards you and Ben. With a sigh, he gathers his things and exits the office as well.

“Well she’s clear.” he spoke, joining the small group. “I expect great things from you, Maggie.”

The happy brunette smiles and nods before Lance looks at you. “It was nice meeting you, Y/N.”

“Nice meeting you too, Lance.”

He held eye contact with you for a bit and Hope didn’t like it. So, she shoved him. “Leave already, dick breath.”

Lance smirked at her. “Oh, you would know all about what dick breath smells like, wouldn’t you?”

“Fuck you.”

“You already did.” Lance chuckled at Hope’s annoyed expression.

With all that being said, he leaves the gym, flustered and with you on his mind. So consumed in his thoughts, he accidentally hits his head while getting into his car.

“Ah, shit.” he groaned, holding a hand to his head, completely unaware that just behind those gym doors, you stood holding your head as well.


3 days. It’s been 3 days and Lance cannot get you out of his head. 3 days and not once have you left his mind. He had to get in contact with you somehow. It was driving him insane.

But how? Hope wouldn’t give him your number. Ben probably had your number as well but being for the fact that Lance had fucked his girlfriend, he doubted that he’d give him it.

With an exasperated sigh, he throws himself down on his couch. He didn’t know anything about you, but he wanted to. When he saw you, it was different from when he’d see other girls but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. Why did you have this effect on him?

Getting up from the couch, he decided to ease his mind of you and go out to the bar. Getting shitfaced sounded amazing, he could really use a drink.

Over on your end, Hope dragged you out to the bar. Karaoke night. Every karaoke night the two of you would get completely shitfaced and sing A Thousand Miles by Vanessa Carlton because it was in your favorite movie, White Chicks.

While on stage, singing your heart out with Hope by your side, you hadn’t noticed Lance walk through the bar door. At the sight of you, he smiled. Mostly because he got to see you again and you were making a complete fool out of yourself.

Lance took a seat at the bar, ordering a drink as he watched you and Hope finish up the song, followed by loud applauses and hoots and howls. While you were walking off the stage, you had accidentally hit your knee on the speaker box, resulting in both you and Lance to tend to your knees.

Lance’s eyebrows knit together as he rubbed the spot on his knee before looking back at you. Coincidence, right?

Right?

Lance never cared about the whole soulmate thing which was why every time his soulmate tried contacting him, he’d either ignore her or tell her to leave him alone. Besides, if he ever met his soulmate, she’d probably want him to settle down with her and that just wasn’t Lance’s style. He didn’t want to be on a leash. He wanted to be free.

Gulping down his drink, he decides to join you at your table with Hope and Ben.

“Hi friends.” he smiled, gathering the attention he wanted from the 3 of you.

“Stalking me? Pfft, that’s low, Tucker. Even for you.”  Hope scoffed, rolling her eyes.

She was way out of it. And by the looks of it, so were you.

“In your dreams, Hope.” Lance responded, adverting his eyes to Ben. “This doesn’t look like your type of scene. What are you doing here?”

“I come to keep an eye out for Hope and Y/N to make sure they don’t do anything too stupid. I also take them home. Well, I take Y/N home, Hope lives with me so-”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, I didn’t ask for your life story buddy.” Lance cut him off. “Tell you what, I’ll take Y/N off your hands.”

“What?”

Lance rolls his eyes. “I’ll take Y/N home so you have one less person to take care of.”

At this, Hope perks up. “No. There’s no way in hell I’d ever let you take my bitch home.”

Main bitch.” you correct, causing Lance to chuckle.

Hope glares at Lance. “I know what you’re capable of and I will not let you take advantage of-”

“Slow your roll,” he spoke up. “Now I know I’m a pig but I wouldn’t go as far as to having my way with a woman when she’s completely shitfaced. I thought you knew me better than that, Hope.”

Lance dramatically pouted and Hope groaned.

“We were having a nice time until you showed up.” she huffed.

“Hardly.”

“It’s cool if he takes me home, Hope. You know I can defend myself, sober or not.” you insert yourself into the conversation that seemed to be all about you.

“Yeah, she can defend herself, sober or not.” Lance grinned, smacking on his mint gum, knowing how irritated Hope got when he did that.

Hope placed her head in her hands. “Ugh, fucking cut it out before I murder you.”

“Cut what out?” he asked, continuing his actions.

“I’m gonna-” Hope lunges for him but was pulled back by Ben. She struggled to get free from him so that she could fuck Lance up but it was no use.

“I’m ready to go home now.” you announce, deciding to get out of there before Hope literally killed Lance on the spot.

“Good choice, let’s go.”

You gather your stuff and give Ben a hug. “I’ll call you tomorrow, Hopi.”

She threw threats towards Lance as the two of you made your way outside and into his car. And then it hit you. You were in a strangers car. You would never ever do something like this but for some reason, you trusted Lance fully despite only meeting him once. You got a weird feeling when you were with him. Like you two have known each other for years. It was comforting yet weird.

Upon arriving at your house, Lance brought you to your bed and tucked you in, making sure you were comfortable.

“You good? You need anything else?” he asked.

You hummed in response, turning on your side and curling up in a ball. You had muttered out a thank you before soft snores escaped your lips. You were out. Lance let out an exhausted sigh and left your room. He’d usually leave a girls house as soon as possible but he wanted to make sure you were alright in the morning. So, tired as hell, he fell asleep on your couch.


You woke up groaning. The hangover you were experiencing was probably way worse than any of your other ones, and you’ve had many hangovers.Kicking your sheets off your body, you drag yourself into the kitchen, being met with a tired looking Lance.

“Woah, what are you doing here?” you question. “Wait.. We didn’t..”

“No, god no I would never take advantage of you like that.” he groaned. “I took you home last night and it was pretty late and I was tired as hell so I slept on your couch. I meant to leave before you woke up but I guess I slept in.”

You noticed he was massaging his temples, like he had headache and decided to ask him about it. “Do you have a headache?”

“What? Oh, I guess. I just woke up and my head was pounding. I tried looking for some painkillers but..” he trailed off.

“They’re over here.” you say, opening a drawer and pulling out a bottle of painkillers.

“Thank god.” he breathed, walking towards you with his hand out.

You give him two and get two out for yourself as well before putting them away. “Yeah, I needed some too. These hangovers are unbearable.”

At this, Lance looks up at you. His head was hurting, as if he had a hangover. But he only had one drink at the bar and he surely wasn’t a lightweight so he couldn’t possibly gave himself a hangover. Were you his.. Soulmate? No. You couldn’t be. There’s no way!

But was it really that impossible? There’s only one way to find out.

Lance bites his lip and takes a deep breath before pinching his side very hard. You let out a yelp, nearly dropping your glass of water as your hand went flying to your side. The same exact side Lance had pinched.

Coincidence. This had to be a coincidence. Lance tried again, this time pinching his upper arm and you reacted, hissing at the pain and rubbing the spot. He couldn’t believe it. Now it made sense why he felt the way he did when he saw you. You were his soulmate.

Holy shit. You were his soulmate. That means-

“Ah, shit.” you make eye contact with Lance. “My soulmate keeps pinching himself. That or he’s being pinched by someone. Either way it hurts.”

All Lance could do was nod, still not believing what he had just found out.

“Speaking of soulmates,” you continued. “I hate to intrude but have you found yours? I haven’t found mine yet which sucks because everyone around me already knows who their soulmate is.”

Lance gulps. “um.. Yeah.. Yeah I’ve found mine already.”

“Really? Who?” you couldn’t help but ask.

Lance didn’t want to say anything just yet but his mouth moved faster than his brain did. “You.”

His words hit you hard and your head began to spin. “W-What? There’s no way.”

You didn’t want to believe it. Lance Tucker was your soulmate? Pfft, no way!

“I’m telling the truth.” he says. “Think about it, you have a hangover and suddenly my head hurts too.”

“Coincidence?” you wanted to force yourself to believe that.

“Look.” he say, pulling up the sleeve of his jacket. “I apologize in advance.” Lance squeezes his eyes shut as he pinches the skin of his arm harshly, causing you to feel it as well.

“Ow! Stop it!” you shout, holding your as just as he stops.

“Do you believe me now?” he breathed, rubbing the spot on his arm that he had just pinched.

“I-I can’t.. No.. I-” you stumble over your words before making a beeline for your room, shutting and locking the door. You pick up your phone and frantically scroll until you find Hope’s number, calling immediately. She answers on the fifth ring.

“What the fuck Y/N? Why are you calling so damn-”

“Shut the fuck up and listen Hope.” you cut her off.

“Okay, I’m listening. But I don’t know what could be more important than-”

“Lance Tucker is my fucking soulmate.”

Hope went silent.


A/N: This wasn’t as eventful as I hoped it’d be but here ya are :) tell me what ya think!

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I’m sorry to the people who weren’t tagged, Tumblr wouldn’t let me :(

I Never Planned on You: Tom Holland

tom holland x reader

A/N: I’m sorry, i feel like this was really crappy :-( this isn’t part of my broadway!tom series, it just happens to be v similar 

masterlist

requested: mrsdoradominguez-barnes:

Question can you do another Tom Holland imagine where the reader is on tour with newsies and lands a role on civil war so when filming wraps up in Georgia the civil war cast go and see the reader perform on newsies and Tom falls in love with her

Words: 2000+

Warnings: does poor character development count???

summary: your relationship with Tom only comes to light when he comes to see one of your performances on Broadway

let me know if you’d like to be added to my tag list!

requests are open!


It had been a long journey to the big screen, and you couldn’t quite believe how lucky you’d been to make it this far.

It was stressful at first, the juggling of auditions and performances every night. It had been months of self-taping audition cuts between matinee and evening shows as your fellow cast members watched from behind the makeshift tripod, cheering you on silently.

The call came in late May. Someone from Marvel had finally seen all of the videos you’d been sending for the past three months and asked you to fly to Georgia for two days to screen test with some of the actors the film.

Your decision was an easy one; all you had to do was send in your two-weeks-in-advance notice stating that you’d be gone for three days at the most, and then you found yourself in Atlanta, caught in a whirlwind of new people to meet and new lines to read.

That was the beginning of the end, you supposed. You used to just be the girl who ended up on Broadway, performing for nearly-full houses eight times a week, which you weren’t complaining about, but if you were being completely honest with yourself, you couldn’t imagine was the end of the line for you.

You had barely touched back down in JFK two days later when they called you again to let you know that you’d gotten the part, and can you start next week? And of course you said yes. How could you not? It was a minor role, but it was just the tip of the iceberg that was your future. In a span of a few short days, you had gone from the small town girl on a big city stage to a small town girl who’d soon grace movie screens across the globe.

The hard part was leaving your home behind. You’d lived in New York for four years; your parents had moved the family up to the city when you were fifteen and had booked your first show on Broadway. You spent most of your teen years busy with never-ending rehearsals and homeschooling in between.

When the show closed only months after its opening, you were fortunate enough to already have something else lined up, and from then on, you spent your time building quite an impressive resume. Four Broadway shows and three Off-Broadway were definitely worth noting, especially at your age.

When you were eighteen, desperate to feel a sense of independence, you went on the hunt for a new apartment and a couple of roommates. From there, you found Anna and Sam, two of the sweetest, most supportive girls you’d ever met, and you couldn’t be more grateful to have them in your life.

Six months ago, you booked the role of Katherine Plumber in Newsies, your first lead role, and it had, thus far, been the best six months of your life. You loved your co-workers, and you loved that you were able to do what you loved eight times a week.

That was why leaving was so hard. It was only two months, tops, but it would be two long months without the people you loved most in a city where you knew nobody, doing something you had never done before.

You had quite the send-off, though. Anna and Sam, along with your wonderful parents, surprised you with a party full of everyone you loved, which meant the little rooftop garden on top of your building was full of cast members, crew, close friends, and your immediate family, including your brother who’d come back from teaching in Korea just to celebrate you.

You complained at first, said it was too much for a two month endeavor, but everyone insisted that it was a momentous occasion (though you knew Sam would’ve made any excuse to use the rooftop garden for a party). The night ended with teary eyes and long, tight hugs all the way around and strict instructions from your show’s producer to come back home whenever you missed Katherine too much.

The next day, your roommates and your family accompanied you to the airport, all getting out to say goodbye and wish you luck on your new adventures.

“So. This is it then, huh kiddo?” your brother asked, smiling softly as he wrapped an arm around you.

“Guess so. I still can’t believe this is happening. I feel like my life is actually about to start,” you mused, leaning into his body.

“You know we’re so, so proud of you, don’t you, sweetie?” your mom asked with a watery smile.


“Aw, mom! You’re gonna make me start crying again,” you pouted teasingly.

“She’s right, Y/N. We can’t wait to see where this movie takes you. We’ve always knew you would go so far,” your dad smiled, reaching over to rub your shoulder.

“Thanks, guys. It’s just gonna be so weird being away from home for so long. I don’t know what I’m gonna do without you guys.”

“You’re gonna go be a star, just like we always knew you were, alright Y/N? We’re sad that you’re leaving, but it’s only two months! We’re all just a phone call away, and you know you can always come home when you need us,” Anna grinned, pulling you to her and into a hug.

“I love you guys,” you mumbled into her sweatshirt.

“We love you too, Y/N. Now get out of here or you’ll miss your flight!” Sam giggled, hugging you when Anna released you from her tight grip.

You hugged the rest of your family with one last goodbye, then turned to security, getting in line before turning back around to send one more teary wave back to your family.

When you arrived in Atlanta, you were catapulted straight into shooting and nonstop work that you barely had any time to think about how much you missed home. In the rare moments that you did, though, you found solace in your young costar, Tom Holland.

You knew he was like you, that he’d started in the show business at a much younger age than you, and therefore he’d know what it was like to have a spotlight on you at all times. He also knew how hard it was to be away from home. He was from England, much farther than Manhattan, and you had to wonder how he was able to cope with being so far away from his family for so long.

He was good at taking your mind off of the matters that plagued your thoughts, like whether or not everyone was missing you, or how your replacement was doing in Newsies so far, or if your brother was alright, all by himself in Korea. With a quick wit and a natural inclination for humor, he was your beacon of light through your stressful times.

You’d finished filming much earlier than him; his role was a bit bigger than yours- who knew Spider-Man would be such an integral part to the story!- so he had another few weeks before he was done, and then the filmed bits would be off to be put together into a coherent story.

He’d gone to see you off at the airport the morning after you’d finished filming, sending you off with a big hug and a promise to come visit before he had to go back to London.

It was three months after you’d gotten back You were twenty now, and back at Newsies, playing the role you loved and missed so much. Backstage was chaotic, as it usually was at half hour, but you sat in your cozy dressing room, the eye of the hurricane, listening to Bing Crosby croon from the speakers of your vintage turntable as you prepared for the show.

You were always one to prepare early; you firmly believed that the earlier you got in costume, the more time you’d have to get in character. You breathed deeply, your essential oil diffuser letting out puffs of lavender-scented mist as you leaned back in your chair, closing your eyes for a moment of deep relaxation, one of the last moments you’d get before your fellow cast members started flocking to your room for last minute snacks or lozenges or cups of tea before the show began.

When the show began thirty minutes later, you got lost in the magic of the show, for once not worrying about what the audience thought of you. The stage lights did a great job of blocking the house from view, anyway. It wasn’t until intermission that you learned exactly who was sitting in the front row that night.

“Hey, did you see your friend out there?” Ben, one of the younger guys, asked, taking a long pull from his water bottle.

“Huh? Which friend?” you asked, distracted. You were trying to get the pin right on your skirt so it would hold the bottom up during your upcoming tap number.

“Oh yeah, that guy! The one you were filming with when you left us earlier this year,” Sky explained, stretching his leg out above his head.

“What? Who is it?” you asked, interest piqued. It could’ve been any number of  people; even though Tom was the one you tended to gravitate towards during the shoot, you’d made friends with most of the people in the cast.

“I dunno, I just know that I saw him in the trailer for the movie,” Ben shrugged, setting his water back down on your coffee table. “Anyway, they’re about to call places, so let’s go.”

You grinned triumphantly at the fixed pin, but your mind ran with ideas of who could be in the audience. You were hoping it was Tom. He had promised he’d come see the show, after all.

You made it through the rest of the show with hardly any bumps, putting a little more pep in your step now that you knew there was someone special to impress in the audience. And if imagining Tom was the one sitting in the front row impacted your performance at all, nobody had to know. .

You were back in your dressing room letting your hair out of its pin curls when you heard a quick rap on your door.

“Come in!” you called through the bobby pins in your mouth.

“Hey there, love,” a sweet, English accent spoke from over your shoulder. You whipped around, forgetting all about your hair that was half curling wildly, and half still contained under a dozen more bobby pins.

“I was told someone I knew was here. If only you’d told me, I would’ve tapped a little harder for you,” you grinned, standing to give Tom a hug.

“You were fantastic, Y/N. Honestly. I  had no idea you could dance like that. And your voice! My God, woman! Where were you hiding that all this time?” he laughed, pulling you off the ground to spin you around.

“Thank you, Tom. Seriously, I really appreciate you coming to see the show.” Your grin hadn’t slipped off of your face for even a second as he held you in his arms.

“I told you I would, didn’t I?” he asked, squeezing you tightly.

“Yeah, I just thought you meant that as a courtesy, not that you’d actually fly to New York to come see me!” you exclaimed.

“Hey, who said I was here for you? Maybe I’m here to see your pal Ben chomp on a cigar for two and a half hours straight,” he joked, eyes shining.

“Mhm, you know you love me, Tom,” you smirked, punching his arm lightly.

“Yeah,” he whispered, brown eyes boring into yours.

“What?” you asked, grin faltering.

“I love you, Y/N,” he repeated, bringing a hand up to cup your face. “Seriously, somewhere between our deep midnight talks and stupid pranks, I completely fell in love with you and I didn’t realize it until you left. I knew I had to come see you somehow and tell you how I feel, but they kept me in Atlanta longer than anticipated. As soon as I was finished, I booked the first flight here.”

You smiled, reaching up to grip the the hand on your cheek with your own. You sighed, leaning into Tom’s body heat.

“You know, you have know idea how long I’ve been waiting for you to say that, Holland,” you smiled, then leaned up to capture his lips with your own.


Tagged:  @multi-parker @cutie1365 @cersei-lannister @oswald-1998 @kawaiianime03 @lionfart @mrsdoradominguez-barnes

Regret - Peter Parker x (f)Reader (royalty!AU)

Words: 8436 (*jared voice* holy. shit. holy…fuckinggggg…shit.)
Pairing: Peter Parker x (f)Reader
Featuring: Father Tony Stark, Mother Pepper Potts (technically stark), May Parker. Random characters named Zoe and Connor who are not based off no one at all what you can’t accuse me of basing them off Dear Evan Hansen characters what never! (they are not siblings)
Warnings: Some swearing, swords, fighting with swords
Summary: In an alternate universe lives King Tony, Queen Pepper, and Princess (Y/N) in the Kingdom of Avenge. In the same universe lives Queen May and Prince Peter in the Kingdom of Midtown. When the Queen and Prince of Midtown visit the Kingdom of Avenge, the prince and princess meet for the first time. A rollercoaster of emotions is to come after- from both of them, from the start, thinking they will never be friends. Only after figuring out they are not what they seem do they become closer. With the help of your lady in waiting, Zoe, and castle chef, Connor, does everything fall into place.
Authors Note:  So, this is my first full out AU. I wrote a soulmate thing once but damn I think I did it wrong, but ya know. I had so much fun with this and I think this is the most detail I’ve ever put into fanfic before, so, holy. This was also for an au challenge from @tatortot2701! It was based off a prompt and I chose the prompt “You’re going to regret this.” So yeah, very long, which never! happens with me, so idk if this will ever happen again. But thank you, your au challenge has introduced me to the lovely world that is AUs!  (there’s also a lot of time skips but whatevs) (anyone catch my steven universe references?)

Tay’s AU Challenge Masterlist

Peter / Full Masterlist

Ao3


The Kingdom of Avenge was never one to think they would be on the top of the food chain. But with the past rulers doing the right things, and the current leaders being loved by their citizens, it gained popularity. What started out as a small town and kingdom, became one of the biggest, most prosperous kingdoms in all of the marvelous land. In a far off land, but not too far from the other kingdoms, lived the royal family; The Starks. Their kingdom grew and grew, and drew in more money every day. Led by King Anthony Stark and Queen Pepper, with their daughter, you, the kingdom continued to live in prosperity. People and followers loved living there, happy they lived in the land of the Avenge Kingdom. The economy was better than any kingdom could dream of, and the crime was usually taken care of by the kingdom’s most trusted guards. You and your family were living well.

You had servants and were raised to be the proper princess everyone expected you to be, thanks to your mother and father. You were awoken by your servant you had around nearly all the time, Zoe, and she helped you prepare for the day. You and Zoe are the same age, making it easy for the two of you to be close. She lays out your outfits, runs your baths, and helps you with anything you need help with. Lucky you both got along, or else you would be stuck talking to the chef all day, so at least Zoe was a friend your own age. Of course, you do love the chef, Connor. He’s a little older than you and Zoe, but he’s very likable and fun to talk to- so you don’t mind staying in the kitchen with him and his staff.

You had to admit; you were very lucky with all the things you have. A wealthy kingdom, a happy family, servants who love their jobs, and citizens who do their work and love where they live. Your life is one of the easier ones when you attend your classes taught by private tutors, and listen to your mother and father whenever they speak. The entire kingdom knows that you will make for a great queen one day.

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I like me better with you - Sirius Black x Reader

Requested by @claireisreallynotonfire : a sirius x reader where sirius is kind of like james where he is constantly asking the reader to go out with him, calling her darling love and babe, and just in general pining after her but she always says no bc he’s notorious for sleeping around and one day he gets so jealous bc she’s hanging around another guy and he just walks up to her and says he’s done being a manwhore bc he’s in love and fluff ensues. and if your cool with it being all from sirius pov that’s great thx love
Hi, love! Well, it’s not exactly from his pov but it does focus on him. 
Warnings:My English, swearing(?)
Gifs aren’t mine/ Credits to their original owners.
Masterlist


“Why are you following me?” she finally asked him.
“People told me to follow my dreams” he answered nonchalantly. She wanted to facepalm. He was being honest but the girl never knew. It was strange for him. To be obsessed with one girl. He was a lady’s man-never said no to anyone. This time-this time it was different. He blamed it on the fact that she was the only one to deny his charms. Lily didn’t count. She was the real deal.
“Come on, love! Go out on an ate with me. I’ll give the d later” he remarked. Her eyebrows shot up to the skies. Oh, Great, Fuck. I messed it up again. She just walked away without even looking at him. He thought he had lost the chance. Little did he know that she was drunk on him. She had this huge crush on him since forever-but he was the infamous Sirius Black. He slept with a different girl every other night. She didn’t want to be one of many. So, she kept everything hidden.
“One day, babe! One day!” He exclaimed after her. James laughed. Well, he was no better.
“You-both of you- are pathetic” Remus stated while he was trying to balance a book mid- air and write down notes simultaneously. Of course, it didn’t work out. The book fell down and landed on the grass, messing up his notes, spilling the ink all over them and leaving a frustrated Remus to clean up. His friends eyed him curiously.
“I don’t know about him, but I am not pathetic” Sirius said mockingly. Remus rolled his eyes. James placed a hand over his heart pretending to be insulted by his friend as he plopped beside Remus.
“You are exactly like James. Drooling over Y/N. She is your Lily. Admit it Pads!” Remus commented rather amused. The famous player was now fawning over one girl.
“She is lovely” Peter said in a haze and Sirius clenched his jaw. Hey, wait. Why is that bothering me? Nah, she is just one more girl.

“Roses are red, violets are blue, lava is hot and so are you” he sang-said to her. She shot her head and tried to hide her blush.
“Violets are purple, so, technically, shod off” she stated with a grin plaster on her face. She really liked him. But no. The other three Marauders were smiling knowingly. Their friend was smitten. He was so dense to his own feelings. It was so obvious to everyone but them, that they were both in love with each other.
“Go out with me and I will” he asked her for the 54th time that week. And it hit him. He was acting like James. It frightened him, but for some reason, his heart was pounding in his chest with excitement.
“Thank you, no, thank you” she replied and returned to the conversation that was held by her friends.
“Come on!” he tried again. He was very persistent. She snapped her head towards him.
“What? Not enough girls in the school?” she questioned while she was glaring at him.
“They don’t mean anything” he said casually but regretted it deeply. She was frowning. That was exactly what she wanted to avoid. To be his next meaningless one night stand. She liked her heart whole. No, it wasn’t that. She just didn’t want to be broken by him.
“Great. Ask me again when you’re done being the basic bitch” she said furiously. He was a bit hurt.

It was late. Everybody was asleep. Well, almost. Sirius Black was staring at the ceiling. For a good two hours. He was consumed with thoughts. Was he treating girls that bad? He didn’t do it on purpose. He really thought that things could work out and one of the at least, last longer. Like-a relationship. But they never did. And he was never that sad. But he didn’t think about their feelings. Were they really that hurt?
Oh, and her face. Her face was stuck in his mind. Those big, judgy, pure eyes.
“This isn’t the same, is it?” he heard James asking him. He sat up on his bed with his back on the headboard and his head lowered. James knew.
“I don’t know, Prongs” he answered sincerely. He didn’t know how to feel. He couldn’t understand his own damn feelings.
“She is your Lily” James simply stated. The truth was, James had never seen his best friend so caught up. So hooked and confused. Sirius Black had fallen in love. He was awful at handling it, though. He would say the wrong thing, the wrong time. Sirius groaned in annoyance.
“What do I do?” he asked… no one in particular.
“Talk to her. You know, without being an ass” Remus responded. His friends had woken him up. He felt a bit sorry for Sirius. He hadn’t felt like this before, so naturally, he wasn’t handling things very well.
“But she hates me” he whispered. He didn’t really believe that but he knew that she didn’t particularly like him either. At least, that was what he thought.
“You haven’t seen the way she looks at you when you are not looking. It’s the same way you look at her when she is not looking” James said confidently. He knew that, like Lily, she was afraid to reveal her emotions. And he got it. As did Sirius.
“Whatever. Go to sleep”.


Sirius hadn’t planned to do anything. He wouldn’t have acted the way he did. If only that Prewett wasn’t flirting with her. He was fuming, trying to hide it. After a while, he wasn’t even mad. He was jealous. But let’s take it from the start.
He hadn’t forgotten about the last nights’ talk, or rather how he got lectured by his friends. He, however, had pushed it aside. It was a nice, warm day. He was in a good mood. When he walked into the Great Hall he was starving as he was a ‘growing boy’ as he had put it.
He went to sit next to the girl who was driving him crazy but that seat was already taken. By Fabian Prewett. And that git was flirting with her. The worst part was that she flirted back and laughed and looked… happy. Not annoyed or confused or about to throw something at his head. He knew his friends were about to say something, and that’s why he sat down, away from the ‘lovebirds’, but close enough to eavesdrop. He knew it was low, but he couldn’t help it.
“Padfoot, what are you doing?” Remus reprimanded him. He wanted to answer but he heard her laughter. She was laughing. Even though that sound was his favorite, he hated that he wasn’t the one causing it. He clenched his jaw-he wouldn’t do anything stupid. His temper-let’s be honest here… it was jealousy-took a toll on him.
He stood up abruptly, not really thinking about the possible consequences, and walked towards her.
“Could you, please, stop that?” he asked with a sour expression. He wouldn’t admit it to ANYONE but it hurt him. Deeply. So, that’s how it feels. Being hurt by the one you want to make happy. It sucks.
“Stop what?” she asked genuinely bewildered. Why couldn’t she just see it?
“Flirting with her” he spat at Fabian even though it wasn’t him who had previously talked.
“Is it bothering you?” Fabian asked him teasingly.  Fabian knew about his not-so-little crush on the girl beside him. As he knew about hers as well.
“Yes! It is! VERY MUCH” he exclaimed before he could’ve stopped his mouth. She was shocked. Fabian was smirking, whispering a ‘my job here is done’ as he returned his attention to the plate in front of him. The Marauders were a bit taken aback but smiling. Lily was too. But she knew.
“What?” she softly questioned, not believing any of it.
“I am in love with you” he whispered-yelled at her, gaining the attention of the entire school. Even McGonagall was looking.
“I have been in love with you for a while now. I know you probably don’t feel the same- and you shouldn’t, really. I am aware of my… reputation. And you were right. I never thought about the other person’s feelings but I didn’t do it on purpose. But I am done. Please, just go out with me. Once. I promise I’ll make it good”. He confessed. He didn’t know where that kind of strength had come from-he didn’t really care. He felt good after saying what he wanted to.
“Aren’t you the persistent one?” she playfully asked him after she had made up her mind. His heart dropped and he lowered his head. She didn’t feel the same.  It’s cool. I just have to regain my composure. Before he knew it, she had gotten up and slammed her lips to his.
He had dreamt of this moment soo many times. Each time, felt so good but the reality was-sublime. Everything about her.
His hands wrapped her waist and pulled her closer-so close, that you wouldn’t find an inch separating them, even if you searched. Her hands flew to his neck, slightly tugging his long, dark locks.
His lips felt like hell to her. Her lips felt like heaven to him. They were so caught up in the moment- Merlin, they both wanted to do that for a while now- that James had to place his hand on his shoulder. He stepped back, a bit annoyed and breathless. Great. I forgot to breathe. The things this girl is doing to me.
“Yes, I will go out with you” she said giggling. He became weak at the knees and reached for her hand. He reached for her hand. He wasn’t the same person. He was different. And it felt good.
“So, Lily… go out with me?” James asked with a smirk on his face.

Thoughts on IT

(spoiler free unless you don’t want to know ANYTHING)

- I’m about to do what I disliked about other reviews, say who I thought was best in the film….sorry other cast members!

- Richie/Finn: Oh my god, Richie was fucking hilarious. I laughed so much, along with the whole theatre. He definitely stole the show, Finn is so talented. Its been a day and I’m still laughing at his lines when they come into my head. His sense of humour has become a lot less offensive and a hell of a lot funnier.  It feels like Richie had the most screen time and some of the other Losers suffered due to it, but I just can’t imagine cutting any of his scenes or lines

- Ben/Jeremy: I love Jeremy, but I didn’t expect to enjoy his performance as much as I did. He and Richie were my favourite losers in this film (even though Eddie and Mike were my favourite in the book) and I don’t understand why more reviews aren’t calling out Jeremy for an excellent performance like they are for Finn and Sophia. His introduction scene is probably one of my three favourite in the whole movie- another hilarious scene but it had such heart behind it and Jeremy was just brilliant, as was Sophia

- Bev/Sophia was also excellent. Bev is a really enjoyable character in this movie, she is a love interest and the film avoids making her a sexy lamp or a plot device by really adding to her character and giving her some strong individual scenes.  She’s definitely romanticized but she definitely is a lot more than a love interest. There is one scene with the whole ‘everyone is in love with Bev’ schtick but it was funny enough that I didn’t mind. I think the film also avoided the damsel in distress trope pretty well. Bev is a really interesting, well defined character and Sophia did a great job!

- I don’t have much to say about the others but they were all great! Great performances from all, they just didn’t stand out as much as those three

- I really enjoyed the Losers Club and their dynamic as a team and as a friendship. I wish we had gotten just a little more scenes like the swimming one, where they are just having fun (after all, they played games in between fighting IT in the novel) but it was pretty clear that the film was cramped for time…

- the film did feel at times like it was rushing through a checklist of scenes that it had to get through, to set up the plot or characters. The film lacked some stuff (particular losers suffered from a lack of screen time, see next point) Maybe this sounds odd considering IT has such a long runtime, but I got the impression they struggled with actually narrowing it down to that time. They definitely cut a few scenes, one pretty important one that was seen in multiple trailers (I was disappointed to see it go and I’m definitely not gonna be the only one). There was one sequence where it suddenly jumped to a different person nearby and I don’t know whether they cut a scene in between or edited it poorly but I still don’t know how they got there or what they were doing or where they actually were? It’s hard to explain without spoiling but yeah, that scene confused me

- Stan and Mike, particularly Mike, definitely didn’t get enough screen time. Stan probably had more actual screen time then Ben but Ben just felt more present, since he had more importance in the story and an important relationship with Bev. Stan was one of the original 4 losers but he had the least dialogue out of all of them and its a shame, Wyatt is really talented and I would have liked to have seen more. I can tell Stan was the victim of a few cut scenes. I also feel pretty sorry for poor Chosen as Mike, who was under-utilized and just…. joined the losers. There was no scene of him getting to know them, no bonding scene for the whole seven. He just joined the Losers and went with them to kill IT. He did have his own character arch, which I enjoyed but he still had the least screen time, which is unfortunate, especially considering how important he is in the sequel

- As for the horror, I wasn’t scared during the trailers and I wasn’t scared during the film (horror films just never feel real enough to genuinely scare me) The audience members did react to the film positively, to the jokes and to the scares. Personally, I thought the horror was a little lazy because (KIND OF SPOILER) nearly every scare was a jump-scare. It was effective but I guess I just expected more. My favourite scary scenes included the first group trip to Neibolt Trip (probably another one of my favourite overall scenes) and the projector scene

- As for the couples, I’m trying not to be biased here but I think people who exclusively ship Bill/Bev after the trailers might just be swayed by Benverly who have some brilliant scenes, their dynamic is great and I can think of one small, hilarious moment they shared which really stood out. They didn’t have any moments in the trailer but they had plenty in the film. A combination of the two really talented actors and a great dynamic made it the superior couple in my mind (then again, I always preferred it to Bill/Bev. To be fair, they had a good dynamic and Jaeden is obviously also very talented! I’m not a fan of the love triangle in media but I could stomach this one.

As for my other IT ship, Reddie did not disappoint. The banter that we saw in the MTV grey water scene was a gift that kept on giving. We also saw a couple moments which showed the genuine closeness between them (one adorable shot made me want to write a fluffy AU immediately, certain scenes in Neibolt Street made me feel very angsty). I don’t mean to overhype this, they definitely aren’t ‘canon’ and I don’t believe their scenes become so overt it nears queerbaiting, just a well written dynamic which is pretty damn shippable. Also Richie/Bill and Richie/Stan shippers will have some moments to enjoy!

- The movie strays from the book quite a lot, I personally didn’t mind but if you’re a book purist then prepare yourself

- I know I did mention a few negative things but overall I really enjoyed the film! I recommend it completely, I had a great time and I can’t wait for everyone else to see it

DCEU -- Tom Holland x Reader

Requested.

“Can you do a Tom Holland Imagine where during an interview he gets asked about his relationship with reader who is a big part of DCEU, like she plays a character, (Supergirl, or Hawkgirl?) and then if you can, pls add in how the justice league/DCEU team and Avengers/MCU team and the fans react to their relationship considering they’re both working on a rival company/franchise? Thank you”

So here you go – I’m sorry this wasn’t any good. x


Originally posted by darlingriezmann

“Now,” began the interviewer. “You have had one of the most successful DCEU movies, how does it feel to hold this spot over any Batman movie?”

You sighed a bit and sat up straighter, straightening your jacket. “Feels good doesn’t it?” You looked around the room, laughing when everyone else did. “I’m just kidding,” you straightened up again, but leaned back against the chair. “Well, being cast as a younger Hawkgirl was definitely a major dream come true. I think we were just really lucky that that fandom accepted me so well, especially with the large number of superhero movies coming out now. And with Ciara already playing her on The Flash, I think it’s great that people don’t mind the divide between the tv shows and the movies.”

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Haunted House- A BATIM Fic

I saw a post about this on @doodledrawsthings feed and I couldn’t help myself. My favorite ink demon and my favorite holiday? Together? It was too good to pass up! That being said apologies in advance to all the lovely people named Mick out there, it just sounded like the douchiest name I could think of while I was writing, but it is not a reflection on you. Once again this takes place in Doodles’ Hell’s Studio AU. Some mild swearing, but that’s about it. Enjoy!

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All the times Trump cared about himself (or the four Black people he knows) more than Black History Month.

By now, I’m sure y’all have seen some of the tweets and memes about Trump having absolutely no idea who Frederick Douglass is.

But have you seen his little speech though?  Because I’ve never seen someone take a speech about Black History Month and turn it into whining about how they were persecuted by Fake News.

Here’s the transcript if you can’t bear to watch Lil Baby Cheeto Prez.  I'ma just bold the parts that have absolutely nothing to do with Black History Month…even though it’s Black History Month.

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Reaction Ficlet: How Jimin would react to having an argument with you

Masterpost: How BTS would react to having an argument with you

Our Masterlist :)


Originally posted by sugaglos

You climb wearily up the stairs, the muscles in your arms quivering as you haul your suitcase up the last few steps. Living on the top floor of your apartment building is absolutely fantastic - until the lifts break, that is.

“Sorry, love,” the repairman had said apologetically, his head emerging from the gaping hole where the elevator should be. “You’ll have to take the stairs.”

“Okay,” you had said, too tired to even enquire about what was wrong with the elevator. “Thank you.”

You had trudged up the stairs slowly, your thoughts on the long, warm shower you would take when you got to your flat.

When you finally make it up to your floor you throw the door open and set your suitcase down on the couch in relief.

You open your mouth to call out but then close it with a snap. Oh, right, you think, looking around the empty flat with a pang. That’s right.

There is no Jimin here to greet you. 

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|| The New Girl ||

{summary: “the other students call Peter ‘Penis’ Parker.”}

this whole story was inspired by a snippet in an ign article that i screencapped and posted yesterday x))))) it was the best prompt for me and i just had to write something short and sweet for it!

this is dedicated to all of my readers out there who have given my stories a chance and followed this blog. i really love you guys and i thank you so much for making this personal blog of mine so much fun to run!

warnings: none

**Please don’t repost/plagiarize this story. reblogs are fine!**

——

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An exhausted Evie was in such a hurry to just get back to her dorm and crash that she didn’t even notice the soft lamplight spilling out from the crack underneath the door, and as such, she was entirely surprised by Mal’s presence in the room when she unlocked the door and stepped inside.  Mal was on her bed, cozy in pajamas as she sat with her knees hugged to her chest.


“Hey,” she greeted.  The tv was on, and she absentmindedly watched.

Evie’s perfect eyebrows furrowed, very confused as to why she was seeing Mal here, already retired for the night.

“…Hi, M.  You’re back early,” she noted, shutting and locking the door behind her.  "What happened to your date?  Ben’s king stuff come up again?“

”…Not exactly.“

Evie lobbed her purse onto her bed, let the gears turn and whirl inside her head for a second, then turned back to Mal with folded arms.

"Why do you have Evasive Face?” she questioned.

“Okay, one, I don’t have a face specifically reserved for evading, and two—”

“Why do you have Evasive Face?”

A defeated smile glided into place on Mal’s expression accompanied by an equally defeated little laugh.  She couldn’t get anything over on that girl.

“…Ben and I broke up,” she announced.  "Or I broke up with Ben, whatever you want to call it.“

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a little highlight reel of my favorite acting moments from the amazing cast of IT (2017) -

wyatt oleff as stan uris: stan the man! i loved this character. he had the right amount of optimism with just enough pessimism. stan just wanted some rest, gdi. anyways, the scene i chose for him was quite obvious. i chose the one after they got separated in the sewers at the end. he was crying and screaming about how they said they wouldn’t leave him. he was distraught and even i felt betrayed??? even though i knew what happened?? 

finn wolfhard as richie tozier: richie was a funny af character, and i found myself genuinely laughing out loud at most of what he said, but I think the moment that stood out to me was when bill, eddie, and richie entered the house on neibolt street and richie saw his own picture on a “missing” flyer. he went from sarcastic and relatively unbothered to sheer panic and fearful in like 3 seconds flat. i’m still impressed, tbh.

jack dylan grazer as eddie kaspbrak: ahh, eddie. adorable, paranoid, sweet little eddie. jack was someone who i’d never heard of before, but immediately checked his imdb afterwards because wow. he played that character so incredibly well, it was hard to choose a standout moment. what i did eventually land on was when the losers were looking at the maps of derry in the garage and he got up and stopped it. that may seem like an odd choice but when he was going off on his little tangent, i just believed everything he was feeling, if that makes sense?? that was one of his scenes that really stuck with me.

sophia lillis as beverly marsh: beverly is my love, if i’m being honest. she’s strong and brave and just good. sophia did an a+ job bringing this character to life. an acting highlight for me was when she was standing over the sink and cut off her hair. she had just had that confrontation with her dad and i could feel her dread. powerful stuff.

jeremy ray taylor as ben hanscom: ben is such a pure character. he likes boy bands and conspiracy theories and becomes a key member of the losers club. jeremy did amazing. i was especially impressed when henry bowers and co. had him at the bridge. his cries for help were so genuine and his pain when henry cut into him was palpable.

chosen jacobs as mike hanlon: WE NEEDED MORE OF MIKE. i wish this movie was three more hours long with bonus scenes for all the characters. chosen was so good as mike. his highlight scene for me was when he was delivering the meat and saw pennywise for the first time. his horror was unmistakable when he saw the burnt hands scratch at the door and his fear only escalated when he saw pennywise. some quality acting.

jaeden lieberher as bill denbrough: this boy. i felt for him. his anguish and pain from losing his brother. it was brutal. jaeden’s best moment imo, was when he was giving That Speech about how it’s easier to walk into the house with pennywise than his own, like???? i’m crying in the club??? 

bill skarsgård as pennywise: i had high expectations of bill going into this movie because i knew he could be great, and let me tell you- he did not disappoint. he was amazing! my favorite moment was when eddie/richie/bill went into the house and pennywise crawled out of that cabinet. he started mocking eddie (poor boy) and just all his mannerism?? and how he delivered his lines? so good. that entire scene was perfection, all the way to the end when he sauntered out of the room with a pole through his head.

BONUS-

jackson robert scott as georgie denbrough: “you’ll float too, you’ll flOAT TOO, YOU’LL FLOAT TOO”

Forest Fun

Masterlist     Mobile Masterlist

Requested - No, just an idea that I had
Tags - @tryingtobeedgy
Word Count - 1,372
Pairing - Harry Hook x Reader (Daughter of Pocahontas and John Smith)
Warnings - A lil’ bit of fluff at the end and an attempted kidnap
Summary - Ok but I changed it a little bit from my original idea that I posted. Long time friends with Ben, you had to help Harry adjust to life in Auradon. When Harry annoys you, you walk off but someone takes you.



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