the life we knew

anonymous asked:

Okay but my fave trope in literally anything is one partner going absolutely speechless when they see their partner all dressed up for a date or somethin, and all i can imagine is rad all dressed up in something fancy (either a tux or a really cute dress) and ray is just starstruck by how handsome rad is

Okay but honestly same Nonnie, like I live for that trope which is whY THIS GOT SO LONG BC I GOT REALLY INTO IT SORRY;;;; TTwTT



same, Raymond~ TTTwTTT <3;;;;

southern hospitality

bitty has outgrown this place, and the people in it.

tw: homophobic language/slurs

word count: 1800

for @stitchedopen, 3rd place winner in my fic giveaway! i hope you like it!


The clinking of Jack’s fork against his plate as he sets it down is very unnerving. It’s not the only sound in the room but it’s by far the loudest, to him at least. Even louder than Suzanne’s pleasant babbling (no wonder where Bitty gets it from) and the gentle lull of music being played on a radio somewhere in another room. Probably the kitchen, where Bitty’s finishing up supper.

There’s a shuffling around the corner and Coach becomes visible as he nears the bottom of the staircase. “Jack,” he mumbles gruffly in greeting, giving him a nod and sitting at the head of the table.

“Hello, Mr. Bittle,” Jack replies, smiling a little. “How’s the season going? Still the reigning champs of Morgan County?” If there’s one thing Jack knows he can get Coach to talk about, it’s football. It might be a much different sport than hockey, Jack surmises, but the passion they share for their sports is more than enough for them to hold a conversation.

“Oh, they lost their first game of the season last week. Nevin’s got an injury and we had to switch around the lineups– you remember, Nevin, receiver, curly hair, he’s in the team picture in the living room– anyway, I’m sure it hurt their chemistry.” Coach would talk strategy with Jack for hours, if it was up to him, but Eric is coming into the dining room now. He’s got on yellow oven mitts with tiny white flowers, and he’s holding a tray with a roast and some vegetables.

“The meat’s a little dry, Lord help me, I should stick to baking,” Eric laughs, setting the tray down on the table. “But all the vegetables should be good and I’ve got some pumpkin muffins with a fantastic cream cheese frosting waiting for us in the kitchen.” Everyone starts to serve themselves. The meat’s not dry at all, but Jack keeps that to himself. Sometimes Bitty needs little things to dwell on, to keep himself busy so he’s not worrying so much about the big stuff. Jack knows that.

“So,” Suzanne starts after a minute, and Jack can tell that this is going to be a long one. He glances up at her, a signal that he’s listening. “The Gardeners are having a potluck this Friday, and they sent us an invitation.”

Bitty nearly drops his fork. “The Gardeners?” he hisses. “As in, Melissa and Kyle?”

“Those Gardeners,” Suzanne replies smugly. Jack and Coach exchange a look, humor gleaming in both of their eyes. The drama is about to unfold, they can tell. “What right do they think they’ve got, inviting us to their potluck after what happened at ours?”

Bitty turns to Jack, waving his hands as he speaks. “Two summers ago, we held a potluck here for the neighborhood, and when the Gardeners showed up, Kyle was drunk as a skunk and knocked over our entire dessert table. The whole thing! It was all ruined! And it would have been okay, but they didn’t even bring anything to the potluck in the first place, and they never apologized, and oh, it was such a mess, everyone tried to act like it wasn’t a big deal but darlin’ you should’ve seen the look on Moomaw’s face, I swear she was on the verge of a heart attack.” He shifts abruptly back toward Suzanne. “Mama, we’ve got to go.”

“Oh, I know that, of course we do. Dicky, what you’ve gotta do is bake the best pie those folks have ever tasted, let them know exactly what they were destroying when they had the nerve-”

Jack hums quietly, making a mental note. Potluck on Friday. Prepare for a spectacle.

-

Bitty’s fingers press against Jack’s neck as he helps him straighten his collar. Jack doesn’t really need the help, he supposes, but the contact is welcome, brief but full of warmth, not the kind of affection Jack usually gets when they’re with Bitty’s parents. They’ve been trying really hard, Jack can tell, and Bitty has too. But he understands why Eric sometimes has trouble being soft with Jack around Suzanne and Coach.

“Don’t you just look dashing,” Bitty says with a smile, placing his hand flat on Jack’s chest.

“Only because you picked my outfit,” Jack laughs. Bitty laughs with him, nodding in agreement. He’s got little crinkles at the edges of his eyes when he laughs, and Jack rubs his thumb over them, absent minded.

“You ready, Dicky?” Suzanne calls from the kitchen. The noises of the coffee pot stop and Jack can hear her pouring herself a cup.

“All ready!” Bits yells back. He reaches up his hand and squeezes Jack’s wrist before whirling around into the kitchen. Jack watches Bitty’s hips swing as he leaves, his jeans a little tighter than usual since he’s outgrown some of the clothes that he left here during the school year, and wonders if wore them on purpose.

-

The potluck is bustling. There are people of all ages, from the tiny toddlers playing in the Slip ‘N Slide far left in the back yard to the old ladies knitting underneath the sugar maple next to the house in a comically stereotypical manner. Jack opens Eric’s door for him not out of chivalry but out of necessity– when he emerges from the car, his arms are full of tupperware containers.

“Let me take some, bud” Jack offers, but Bitty shakes his head.

“I’ve got to bring them over myself.”

-

“This one’s cherry with a lattice crust,” Eric is explaining as he removes the lid from the nearest tupperware container. The egregious Melissa Gardener turns out to be a petite brunette with a smattering of freckles across her upturned nose. “And this one’s pumpkin, I know it’s not really the season but I had some materials left over from the muffins I made the other night and I’m sure it’ll be just delightful, I made the whipped cream myself– now, they’re all desserts. I was sure you’d need some.”

Jack stifles a laugh. The bite in Bitty’s voice is unmistakable. “Where should I set them?” Eric asks, still sweet as sugar but with a lilt that suggests this isn’t an innocent question. “This table seems a little… unsteady. I wouldn’t want them to fall, heaven forbid.”

“This table’s fine,” Melissa ensures him, smiling. “Thank you so much for the contributions.”

“It’s nothing at all.”

They burst out laughing as soon as she leaves, Bitty collapsing into Jack’s chest. Jack’s arms come around him automatically and squeeze. “Bits, that was cold.”

“Really? Here I was, thinking I was being so courteous.”

They stay in the embrace for a few more seconds before Bitty shifts away from Jack. It’s subtle, but Jack understands. He squeezes Bitty’s shoulder and then takes a step away. Bitty’s out to everyone who matters, but some people don’t know. And some still have their prejudices.

“Bits, where’s the bathroom?” Jack asks. The noise is already getting to him. He knows he’s got a while of this to go, and he’s sure he’ll be fine, but he just needs a minute to adjust. Eric points him in the right direction, then goes back to arranging the pies on the table.

“Eric!” Bitty whips around. It’s a tall guy with acne scars in a red polo shirt. Bitty looks up, his face ghostly stricken for a second, then paints a big smile on.

“Hey, Todd,” he replies as the guy moves closer. “How have you been.”

“I’ve been fine, thanks,” Todd says. Eric tugs on the bottom of his shirt and glances over at Jack, entering the house. “Who’s the guy?” Todd asks, nodding toward him.

“Jack,” Eric says. “My… my boyfriend.”

Todd smiles. He turns his gaze to Bitty. “I’ve gotta say, Eric, I’m impressed! I expected you to come home with some twinky faggot in a pink H&M scarf.”

Eric inhales sharply. “Go away,” he says quietly, looking at his shoes. “My love life is none of your business.”

“We all knew you were a homo, Bittle, I guess it’s just a little surprising that you’re still showing your face around here. Are you queers ever gonna stop shoving your agenda in our faces? Huh? Go back to Samwell, eh?” He’s inching closer now, and Eric’s cheeks are flaming red.

“Go fuck yourself,” Eric mutters, turning his back. He unstacks a tin of macadamia nut cookies from his lemon meringue, and opens it. His hands are shaking as he spreads them out artfully.

Todd ignores his response, instead reaching over Bitty and sweeping up several cookies. “Don’t mind if I do,” he says as he stuffs one in his mouth. “Mmm,” he replies, smirking. “They’re a little bit… fruity, don’t you think?”

“That’s not even funny,” Eric rolls his eyes. “Get the hell away from me.”

“And if I don’t?”

There’s a hand on the back of Bitty’s neck and he’s flinching, he’s freezing, he can’t move he can’t breathe–

“If you don’t,” Jack whispers, his voice robotic and cold. “I’ll beat the shit out of you, and you can crawl home to your mother and tell her you got your ass handed to you by a faggot. Does that sound like a good enough reason to stop?”

Todd takes a step back. “Don’t you fucking touch me,” he hisses at Jack. “You’re not from around here, are you? You don’t know who my dad is, do you?”

“Let me guess. Mayor of some town I’ve never heard of? Principal of the local high school? Do you know who my father is, noune?” Jack puffs up his shoulders. “Because I can guaran-fucking-tee that my dad is a hell of a lot worse to mess with than yours. So you might just wanna step off.”

“Whatever. I shouldn’t be talking to y’all anyway. Just in case it’s contagious, you know?” Todd smirks.

“I’m going to fucking kill you,” Jack says, still matter of fact, balling his fists and lunging toward Todd. Todd flinches, but the blow doesn’t come. Bitty’s caught the back of Jack’s t-shirt in his hand.

“Jack, honey, it’s okay. I can handle it.”

Todd laughs.

“But this– this asshole–”

“Trust me, sweetpea, I’ve got this.” Eric smiles.

“Yeah, you’re sure gonna take care of me, Bittle, what can you weigh, a hundred and ten? I bet you couldn’t even–”

Splat.

“Pity,” Eric says sweetly as the pie tin slides down Todd’s face, then down his shirt, coating him in cherry filling. “That lattice crust was gorgeous.”

“You– you–” Todd splutters, wiping cherry crud out of his eyes, but Bitty and Jack are already walking away.

“Enjoy the snacks, Melissa,” Eric calls over his shoulder as they make their way to the car. “We’re gonna head out.”

2

Cant wait to watch Ellie kill some bitches in the present and her mom kill some motherfuckers in the past! 

Also omg her mom so ripped kill me

Originally posted by fhlyless

Anonymous said: Maybe within the series (if you’re going to do a series) you could include cheeky!Jeff and jealous!Jeff coz that would be amazinggg if you could
         Author’s Note: So I really didn’t want to do a series, but I kind of want to write jealous!Jeff, so I’m only going to add this last part before moving on and doing individual pieces again :)
Also, I didn’t know if what type of jealousy you wanted, but I ended up coming up with this. Enjoy!
P.S - Unless specifically requested, all 13RW Imagines will be AU. Which means Hannah and Jeff are alive and well. Why, you ask? Because I like fluff and happy endings!

Imagine your relationship with Jeff is still brand new that not everyone at school has gotten the memo. Especially those boys who are constantly flirting with you. At least until Jeff makes it clear you’re off limits.

Jeff Atkins X Reader pt. III

Parties aren’t normally your thing, but you find it hard to tell Jeff no. Especially when he bribes you with milkshakes and fries afterwards, and flashes that heartwarming smile at you when you’re moments from caving. But Clay and Hannah are going to be there, dragging along Tony who rarely makes appearances at high school parties and you find it even more easier to pump yourself up for the event.

As usual Jeff is immediately sought out at the party and being pulled away to start a rowdy game of beer pong. He tries to brush them off as he tightens his hold on your hand, but you merely kiss his dimpled chin and send him on his way.

“Go. Have fun,” you smile. Then sneaking your hand into his front jean’s pocket, your hand lingers on his thigh with a teasing little grin before you grab the car keys and slide them out, only to slip them into your own back pocket. “But not too much fun,” you chuckle when you see his eyes darken with the teeniest bit of lust. “You owe me a milkshake and fries afterward, and I’m not too keen to see you drunkenly stumble around.”

Jeff gulps. “Yes, ma'am.” Several people call out his name, telling him to hurry up, but he shouts at them to hold off one more minute. Then glancing back down at you, he fondly smiles. “Love you.”

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Blue Skies and Possibilities (Lin/Reader Soulmate AU)

Summary: In a world where you can only see color once you make physical contact with your soulmate, you’re keeping your hands to yourself. Fate has other plans.

Word Count: 8642

Note: Thank you to @the-real-tony-stank for reading this ahead of time and being so sweet and to @thatoneimaginesblog for giving me a cute idea that pops up in here and putting up with a lot of Lin pictures while this got written.


You were in the forest again.

There was light streaming through the trees, and the vivid color of the leaves told you that you were dreaming. You felt a flutter in your stomach and smiled to yourself. If there was color, that meant he would be here. You let your instincts take over and walked swiftly in the direction the creek you’d visited so many times before.

There he was, just like you knew he’d be. He turned to you with a boyish smile on his face and you felt like you had just gotten home after a long trip away. You didn’t have a name to attach to the color of his eyes, but you knew they were deep and familiar. He held out a hand to you and you grabbed it, never knowing how much time you’d have here. Tonight was a lucky one. You spent what felt like an entire summer in the woods, neither of you speaking but somehow communicating anyway.

When you heard a buzzing in the distance, you knew your time was up. You held tight to his hand, but the world around you faded anyway. The feeling of his fingers laced with yours was the last thing to slip away.

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#WednesdayWisdom

5 Of The Most Dangerous Lies We’re Told From Birth 

These lies have been told for generations in the interest of pushing the agendas of those in power. These lies disempower us and cause us to believe that our lives are meaningless. Acknowledge them for what they are - distractions from your true purpose.

1. Grades = intelligence. Your grades in school determine your ability to take memory tests, true intelligence comes from your ability to understand yourself and the universe. The schooling system is designed to prevent us from questioning our reality to prepare us to work jobs - rather than teaching us how to create our own realities. Education without knowledge of self is incomplete.

2. Death is the end. This lie encourages us to live through the ego & pursue material things to make the physical existence seem more real - which makes the ego feel safe. There’s no such thing as death because energy cannot be created or destroyed - it is only ever transformed.

3. Social status. Those in power want us to believe that we are beneath them because they hold more money than us - this is separation in one of it’s more obvious forms and separation is the illusion. The CEO, janitor & doctor came into the world the same way and will all reach the same end.

4. You have no power. We’re told that life just happens to us & we have no control over what it brings but we have the power to create the life we want to live. If we all knew this to be true we would all experience much less conflict and would find it easier to work together to build a better world for all of us.

5. Creativity is a waste of time. If you were told to put the paintbrush down and “get a real job” just know that this is because creativity has been discouraged to disempower us. Being creative gives us time to reflect on the way we see the world and question our understanding of it - which is why it’s so important for all of us to express ourselves creatively.

The truth shall set you free.

Peace & positive vibes.

My favourite argument against bi!Dean is ‘BUT DEAN SAID HE WAS STRAIGHT’, because I just get to laugh a knowing little laugh & think to myself ‘Yeah, so did I. even believed it at the time, too

Can’t Go Back

Originally posted by justjensenanddean

This is for ma hoe @wayward-mirage​​​​ Rat Pack Challenge. I got the song ‘You’ll Never Know’-Frank Sinatra.

Characters: Y/n, Dean, Sam

Pairing: Dean x Y/n (GENDER NEUTRAL READER)

Warnings: Angst, argument, abandoned reader, regret, self hate. Just all angst.

Word Count: 1861

Summary: Dean finds himself back where he should be. But Y/n isn’t with him.

A/N: Ok, so some angst cos…this song just gave me a load of angst. I’m hoping it’s really angsty. I have no idea. Either way, hope u like it!!

Tagged Peeps: @waywardsons-imagines@whywhydoyouwantmetosaymyname@sallyp-53@salvatorexwinchester@helvonasche@notnaturalanahi@wayward-mirage@riversong-sam@nerdflash@miss-miep@impala-dreamer@mypeopleskillsarerusty0203@greek-geek481@chelsea072498@deals-with-demons@plaidstiel-wormstache@impalaimagining@deathtonormalcy56​ @scorpiongirl1 @the-latina-trickster@aingealcethlenn@squirels-angels-and-moose@meganwinchester1999@cubs2019-blog@lucifer-in-leather@p–trick​​ @straightestgay-voice@professsionalsinner

Masterlist


“No. No. NO!”

Dean frantically scratched at the floor, the doorway, anything he could get to, so he could get back to you.

He turned back to Sam, eyes pouring with tears, not caring who saw him.

“WHAT THE HELL DID YOU DO?”

Sam swallowed hard, his heart pounding as the rage poured out of Dean.

“I…I did what I had to”, he stuttered, knowing Dean wasn’t going to accept this. 

Not with you still there.

“You…yo-you…”

Dean choked on his words, his vision completely blurred as he felt his heart break.

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to you (unfinished, off the top of my head)

It all started with some friends and a van
a kick drum inside my ribs
Preaching electric into a microphone stand
Raise your red plastic cup
And Turn the laughter up
We fell asleep in the grass on the summer fest days
You’d never guess I’m still trying to get my head screwed on straight
All us believers still believe
Everytime we sing “two more weeks”
Someone shoulda thrown us in a cell and swallowed the key
Somebody shoulda told us to leave em be
The only news we tuned in to was the traffic update
Nothing feels as close to home as nightime windows down on 88
Lax to berlin and back
Wake up on the west coast inside a flask
The good books in the drawer next to the bed you pissed in
passports a blur, full of stamps from places I missed you in
They’ll tell you everything about last night that you forget
Pack your suitcase, joes in the back smoking a jazz cigarette
They hated me before they ever loved me
I’m not ready for things to change
I miss you missing me in the good old days
Got stuck in the cell of you and me
I guess it still beat solitary
—–Worry worry
Put my head in such a flurry
Freckle freckle
What makes you so special——-
One of these days yr gonna wake up in heaven
Laugh about that night you got four stitches above your eye
when they let the guitars fly
Never trust a band that wouldn’t bleed for you
Never believe in anyone who wouldn’t drive through the night
(To you)
They never tell you in school you’ll feel so alone
Wake me up again when were in the same time zone
The way I’d take a cornfield over a coast
Mulitply me times what you adore most
There were nights between yellow lines
When I confessed to you riding shotgun asleep under purple skies
They say
You get what you get
Well we Got lost in the middle of nowhere And you almost quit
Tonight Come together
Come apart
You can get lonely when u
Only read the charts
Called everybody I knew in this life
Can we get it together just for tonite

I miss old friends and “play it agains”
Please Send my love,
to everyone above

— 

Pete posted the above to one of his secret blogspots (deleted long ago) on August 13, 2008. This has always been my favorite. A few things:

  • This was posted just before the release of Folie A Deux was announced, while the band was still working on the album, and was titled “to you (unfinished, off the top of my head)” (the you presumably being Patrick who was using the words for lyrics **I’m going to edit myself here and add that it can also be a broader “you,” meaning the fans). You’ll see a lot of lines from Coffee’s For Closers in here and the chorus from w.a.m.s
  • During the Save Rock and Roll record cycle, Patrick mentioned revisiting some of Pete’s older lyrics and finding some that he had initially dismissed for dumb reasons like being irritated with Pete over something else.
  • Cut to American Beauty/American Psycho and you can a slightly modified version of the line “When I confessed  to you riding shotgun asleep under purple skies” has made it into “Favorite Record,” along with references to “windows down,” “drive through the night,” and “play it agains.”
  • There are a lot of references in here to the band’s connection with/devotion to the fans–“All us believers still believe every time we sing ‘two more weeks’,” “Never trust a band that wouldn’t bleed for you, Never believe in anyone who wouldn’t drive through the night (To you)”
  • In this interview, Pete mentions “Favorite Record” was the song that almost didn’t make it on to AB/AP but that it won out because it felt like a song that was for the fans.
Slow Hands - Stuart Twombly

Author: @mf-despair-queen

Characters: Stuart Twombly/Reader

Word Count: 6,721

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, Oral (both receiving), Orgasm Denial, Multiple Orgasms, Hair Pulling, Choking, Face Riding, Boob Jobs, Shower Sex, Making out on the Couch

Notes: STUART WEEK. STUART WEEK. Thank you @rememberstilinski and @sarcasticallystilinski for giving us these times to focus on cuties like Stuart. As thanks, I give you the opportunity to bathe in holy water because… Stuart is a dirty little shit. Also a big thanks to @minhosmeanhoe because she was a babe and proofread this for me while I was on my way home! I love youuuuuu. PS This was a request. 

Request: could you maybe do a smut with stuart twombly based off the song “strip that down” or “slow hands” i dont like 1d but i heard them and i’m like “ooh so sexual i know just the right person” and now i’m here. thanks💕💕

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