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golbrocklovely · 3 years

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remember me // colby brock (pt 2)

A/N: as i mentioned before in a different post, this took me FOREVER to write. i loved writing this story but something about it just made me drag it out for so long. nonetheless, i love this and i'm excited to see what you all think. please lmk what you thought about this. thank you to everyone that has supported me and sent me kind messages. yall are the best ! hope you enjoy :) also lmk if you want another part...

prompt: she's the only one that remembers colby, or so they both thought.

trigger warning: ANGST, heartbreak, AU mention, friendship problems, cursing, happy-ish ending (but not the end...?), kissing

word count: 5526

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Colby was relieved that the waitress, the only one that remembered him, decided to help. The moment she agreed, Colby gave her his number and left. She texted him not too long after, and he realized for a moment she never said her name. He planned to ask her the next day when they decided to meet up at his place.

It was weird to come back to his apartment, knowing that down the hall his best friend, his brother, lived there and didn't know who he was. Usually when Colby felt lonely, he would walk down the hall to Sam's and hang out for a bit. It was always nice to talk to Sam about anything and everything.

But now... he couldn't do that.

Colby tried to sleep during the night, but barely any rest came from it. He tossed and turned, hoping that when he would wake up, this would all just be some weird-ass nightmare.

When his cell phone rang the next morning at 9:34 A.M., it was an unfamiliar ringtone. As he rubbed his eyes awake, he glanced at the caller, the name 'Waitress' appearing on his screen.

I guess this wasn’t a dream after all.

"Yeah?" Colby groaned, squinting his eyes at the sunlight.

Her voice came through cheery, the tone too loud in Colby’s ears. “Let me up to your apartment. I'm here.”

He cleared his throat. “This early?”

“I figured you would want your normal life back as soon as possible, yeah?” She sassed.

He rolled his eyes. “Alright, give me a second. I'll come down and get you.”

Colby stumbled out of bed, running his fingers through his hair as he threw on a random shirt and jeans, slowly trudging down to the lobby of his apartment. She sat on a couch, tapping her foot against the carpeted floors. Her eyes were staring out the door, almost like she was looking at someone. When she heard Colby’s footsteps, her gaze pulled away from outside.

“Did I wake you?” She frowned, grabbing her bag next to her and standing up.

He shook his head. “You can't really be woken up if you barely slept.”

“I'm sorry to hear that.” She lightly bit her lip, following Colby to the elevator.

He shrugged tiredly. “It's okay.”

They both slowly got into the elevator, climbing up to Colby's floor. The loud 'ding' of the elevator broke their silence moments later. They walked to Colby's apartment, and he unlocked his door quickly.

She whistled quietly. “Woah, nice place.”

A half smile spread across Colby’s face. “Thanks.”

“No offense, but how do you pay for this place if you're not a social media person?” She questioned, stepping into the kitchen.

He raised an eyebrow. “That's... a good question. From what my mom told me over the phone yesterday, I worked all throughout high school and college, so maybe it's from that?”

“You only worked at Dairy Queen while you were in high school. You must have gotten a better job in college because there is no way you can afford this place.” She disagreed.

Colby smirked. “How'd you know I worked at Dairy Queen?”

“Well, for starters, my friend told me. And also, I did some research about you. But I'll get to that in a second.” She continued, her voice falling to a serious tone, “So... would you like to hear my theories?”

“Theories?” He puzzled.

“As to why everyone forgot about you.” The waitress explained.

Colby sat down on his barstool, exhaling. “Let's hear it.”

“Okay. For argument sakes, you're gonna have to just go with me on this. Because otherwise, I literally have no way to help you.” She started, already pacing slightly.

He cautioned. “...okay?”

“So last night, I tried to think of a reason why everyone would collectively forget about you. And the only conclusion I could come up with is that you're in an alternative universe.” She hypothesized.

Colby’s eyes widened, bugging out of his head. “A what?”

“An alternative universe. Basically, everything is pretty much the same in your life, except a few minor details,” she revealed. “That’s why you still live in this apartment, but you didn’t get here the same way you did in your other life, your real life.”

“This... it's way too early for this.” He grumbled, astonished.

She sighed, her hands resting on her hips. “The only other option is that this is a very long-winded prank that your friends are still pulling on you. Have you tried talking to any of your other friends besides Sam?”

“No, everyone else’s number is gone in my phone, which I can only assume means they don’t know me either.” Colby retorted. Then he took a deep breath as he pinched the bridge of his nose. “But, this doesn't make sense. How did I end up here if this isn't my life?”

“I’m not sure how you got here, but I think you’re here for a specific reason. I think you’re here to right a wrong that this Colby Brock did. I’m just… not entirely sure what that wrong might be.” She answered, unsure.

He huffed. “Okay… what am I supposed to do then? Stay here and hope we figure that out soon? I don't even know who I am in this universe.”

“And that's where my research comes into play.” She pulled a laptop from her bag quickly, placing it down on the counter and opening it. She scrolled through her browsers until she came across Colby's Facebook, which surprisingly looked active for someone who hadn't been personally on it in years.

I use Facebook? Gross.

“First, I started by seeing if you and Sam were friends on here, but that didn’t amount to much since Sam doesn’t have a Facebook. However, what I found out is that you and Sam did live in the same town, go to the same high school, and played in the same marching band. Sam talked about his early years before he was ‘famous’ in one of the first videos he posted, and I crossed referenced that with your profile and it all matches up.” She informed.

“That's strange,” he mumbled. “What did we do after high school?”

She stated. “You went off to college and majored in Business Management with a minor in Philosophy. You graduated early too.”

Me? Graduating early? I couldn’t even get through math without Sam’s help.

“What did Sam do?” He asked.

The waitress scrolled to another tab, opening it to show a search of Sam. “Well, a very quick Google search shows that he actually went to the same college as you but dropped out once his Vine career started to pick up. Then he went on to Musical.ly when Vine died. He moved out to LA in 2017 and started a YouTube channel after he met Katrina, and slowly met all of his- your, friends that way. He got a bump of followers once he started dating Kat because of her following.”

Colby’s mouth gaped at her words. “That can't be true. He would have never wanted that. I mean, I had to convince him that we should be on social media so that we could spread our message. Plus, he hates those channels that use their relationship for views.”

“Not this version of Sam. Or at least, it doesn't seem like it.” She commented.

He covered his face, groaning into his hands. “What the hell am I here for? What wrong have I done in this universe?”

Her voice low, she replied. “I think it might have to do with Sam.”

“But... he doesn't know me.” He dissented, sitting up.

She nodded. “I thought so too. However, after scrolling through all of your public photos, I found this.”

Colby squinted at the screen, an old photo of him and Sam stared back. They looked super young, probably sophomores in high school. They were both smiling, laughing at something. He vaguely remembered this day.

“So, we did know each other.” He bit his lip softly.

She hummed. “Yeah. And weirdly, it’s the only photo of the two of you on your profile. But it’s not the only strange thing.”

Scrolling to a different tab, she pulled up an old tweet of Sam’s. It read ‘Never thought you would be the one to hurt me. But I guess everyone can be surprising.’

Colby noted the date. “That was back in high school.”

“Yeah, and there’s a bunch like them. He talks about being betrayed and someone hurting him deeply. He never mentions, of course. But his tweets line up with some that you were tweeting at the same time.” She confessed.

The waitress clicked on a different tab and another tweet showed up, one from Colby’s account. He gazed at it, reading the words ‘If you hate me… imagine how I feel about myself.’

Colby’s face dropped. “Wait, what?”

“You don’t tweet that often, but when you do, you talk about righting wrongs and fixing things you fucked up.” She added, “You also hate on yourself a lot.”

He doubted, crossing his arms. “You think they’re connected?”

“I do. I think in this universe you fucked up somehow and hurt Sam. And I think you are here now to fix what the other you did.” She explained.

He ranted. “This is all so fucked! When I saw him yesterday, he acted like he didn’t even know me. How am I supposed to even go about this? What, do I just go down the hall and apologize for something I don’t even remember doing?”

“No. Sam's not in his apartment anyway. I saw him leave while I was waiting for you.” She mentioned nonchalantly.

He grunted. “Great, he could be anywhere in LA right now.”

“I know exactly where he is.” She smirked.

“What? How?” He questioned.

The waitress divulged. “This version of Sam has a favorite restaurant he goes to all the time. A lot of his fans know about it, thus one look through any of his fan accounts and you'll see it. It's called ‘Paradise’.”

“Sounds like a strip club.” Colby deadpanned.

She pouted. “It's not. But he goes there all the time, and I got us a table there last minute.”

“What exactly are we gonna do when we get there?” He crossed his arms.

“I was planning on going up to his table and talking to him, maybe asking him about you, see how he reacts.” She described.

Colby furrowed his brow, confused. “And what about me?”

She slid her laptop into her bag, zipping it up hastily. “Well… I didn’t really think that far ahead. But hopefully, whatever you did is forgivable, and we can just fix it right there.”

He murmured. “That's a lot to hope for.”

“It's better than sitting here and wasting daylight.” She grabbed her stuff and headed for the door. Colby followed suit, grabbing his keys.

He spoke as he locked his door. “What if this doesn’t work?”

She turned back to him. “It will. It has to.”

~~~

Paradise was a themed restaurant, which Colby thought was strange because his Sam never really liked those types of restaurants. The theme was nice, however, tropical and Hawaiian. It felt like something he, Sam, and a few friends would have gone to after a fun, drunk night.

As Colby and the waitress were escorted to their table, they both kept an eye out for Sam, glancing around nervously for the blonde boy.

“I think the worst thing about this universe version of me is how messy my car is,” Colby joked. “It’s like I live out of it.”

She shrugged, smiling. “It wasn’t that bad.”

“You should see my real car. My honey wagon is spotless.” He expressed, waving his hand.

“Honey wagon?” She queried.

“Long story,” he chuckled. Then abruptly, he gasped. “Holy shit, I just realized I never got your name.”

She cocked her head. “What? I never told you?”

He blinked. “No.”

She started. “It's-”

“Hi, I'm Tony, I'll be your server for today. Can I get you something to drink to start you guys off?” Tony greeted, cutting her off.

“Yeah, sure. A water for me.” She blurted out.

Colby added. “Coke, please.”

Tony smiled. “Okay, coming right up.”

Once Tony left, the waitress started scoping out for Sam again, her eyes widening once she saw him.

Her body stiffened, turning back to Colby. “He's over there, three tables down to your left.”

Colby gazed over his shoulder at his friend. Sam looked lost in thought, staring at his phone as he ate his food.

“Why is he alone?” He muttered.

“From some of the blogs I read, he likes to go out and eat by himself. Also, apparently, him and Kat are on the rocks.” She admitted.

“They love each other so much, it's kinda gross to be around them sometimes,” He quipped, but shook his head. “So to hear that...”

“I'm gonna head over.” She announced quickly.

Before he could speak, she left the booth. Colby watched her walk over to Sam, listening closely to their conversation as he ducked his head down.

“Hey... sorry to bother you, but are you Sam Golbach?” She asked sweetly.

“Yeah I am. Did you want something?” Sam stared blankly at her.

“Um, yeah?” She almost scoffed at his tone. “I’m a huge fan and I know this might be a weird question, but do you know someone named Colby Brock?”

Sam’s face remained stoic, but his eyes intensified. “No, I've never heard of that name before.”

“Are you sure, because I'm pretty certain that you and him are best friends.” She insisted.

He raised an eyebrow. “What are you talking about?”

Colby watched nervously as she pulled out her phone and showed Sam the photo. Sam scrunched up his face, his eyes scanning the image. “Yeah, no. Still don’t know who he is. What was his name again?”

“Colby Brock.” She stated.

“...Sorry. I’ve never heard a name like that before.” He mumbled, almost inaudibly. “Sounds stupid anyway.”

She cocked her head. “Wait, what?”

Colby clenched his fist, unable to hear this conversation any longer. He needed to come face-to-face with Sam. He slid out of his seat, walking hastily over to Sam and the waitress. Sam’s eyes narrowed as he gaped at Colby.

“Sam…” Colby started.

Sam growled. “Are you fucking serious, Colby? Did you really have to get one of my fans involved?”

“What?” Colby puzzled.

Sam jumped out of his seat, grabbing Colby’s arm and pulling him out of the restaurant. The waitress followed behind them, confused just as much as Colby. Sam’s feet stopped behind the back door of the building, turning to Colby without warning.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Sam barked.

Colby stepped back, surprised by Sam’s anger. “...Uh, I don’t know what you mean by that.”

Sam scoffed. “Why the fuck are you here? After all this time?”

“So, you do remember me.” Colby remarked.

“Yeah, I do. When you showed up at my place yesterday, it took me a minute to realize it was you, since you decided to dress up like a Hot Topic employee, but yeah, I knew it was you. Are you really gonna pretend in front of her that we don’t know each other?” Sam teared his eyes away from Colby’s, staring at the waitress suddenly. “Let me guess, he hasn’t told you the whole story, right?”

“I guess not.” She shrugged uncomfortably.

Sam chuckled darkly. “Of course not. If he told the whole story, he would have to admit he was an asshole, and God knows he’s not gonna do that.”

“What are you talking about?” Colby panted.

“Do you not remember? Well, I’ll give you a refresher. You and I became friends freshman year of high school. You were my best friend and I was yours. I trusted you. I trusted you with a lot of shit that I’ve never told anyone. Senior year of high school, right before we were about to graduate, right as we were starting a social media career, suddenly you don’t want anything to do with me; which would have been bad enough, but then I go and find out you and my girlfriend were hooking up behind my back,” Sam snapped, catching his breath for a moment. “So yeah, I remember you, Colby.”

Colby’s mouth fell open, his breathing speeding up.

None of this sounds like me. I would never hurt Sam like that.

“And now, you have the fucking audacity to show up when everything in my life is going great and I’m succeeding. I have fans, friends, and a girlfriend that all love and care about me, and you’re here trying to what? Stir up drama? Get some clout from me?” He demanded.

“If your friends and girlfriend love you, why are you eating all alone?” The waitress jeered.

Sam glared at her, biting his tongue. “And you made one of my fans hate me. Dope, dude.”

“Sam, look; I’m sorry for what I did. But that was years ago. I’m not who I was back then.” Colby choked out.

“I don’t care. I don’t want you in my life. Do you not understand what you did to me?” Sam persisted.

“I know I was an asshole, and I apologize for ever hurting you like that. But I miss you, and I want to work things out. Let me prove to you that I’m better.” He trembled, getting closer to Sam.

Sam backed up, blocking Colby. “No. No! You don’t get to miss me. You don’t get to miss a relationship you fucked up. It took me years to trust again. Hell, I’m still going through it. You don’t get to decide whether or not you’re in my life. Not anymore.”

“Sam… please.” Colby whimpered.

“Don’t show up at my place again. Don’t talk to my fans about me. Don’t act like you care about me. Because I’m done,” Sam stared into Colby’s eyes before going back into the restaurant. “I don’t care about you. Fuck off forever and leave me alone.”

Sam’s words punched Colby hard, taking the breath out of him instantly. He caught himself against the wall, his legs turning to gelatin under his weight.

He stuttered. “I… gotta leave. I-I have to…”

“Colby, relax. It’s gonna be okay.” She grabbed his hand.

He shook off her embrace. “What? No it’s not! Did you not hear what he said? Why would he want to be friends with a piece of shit like me?!”

“You were eighteen when this all happened. Give yourself a break.” She argued.

“No. I’m fucking terrible. This version of me is terrible. Of course he doesn’t want to be friends with me! I don’t even want to be me.” His voice quivered with anger, his body racing away from her.

She furrowed her brows, trying to keep up with him. “Where are you going?”

“I just need to leave. I can’t be here right now!” He grunted, his pace picking up.

She called after him, but Colby didn’t care. His heart slammed against his chest over and over again. Tears weld up into his eyes, blurring his vision as he began to run. He wanted to keep running until his legs gave out, until he couldn’t remember all the words Sam had said to him.

It dawned to Colby how much worse this universe was.

He wasn’t just stuck in a universe where Sam didn’t know him.

He was stuck in a universe where Sam didn’t want to know him.

In a universe where Sam didn’t love him.

And he had no way of escaping.

Colby must have blacked out while he ran, somehow maintaining to stay upright, because once his thoughts started to subside, and his body basically gave out under him, he noticed he was in a part of LA he had never been before. Some random neighborhood that was unfamiliar.

He shoved his body up against a metal telephone pole, sliding down to the ground. He tried catching his breath, gulping back breaths as he forced down the nausea overwhelming his senses. He wiped his face with his sleeve, feeling more tears rush down his cheeks.

His throat and chest burned with each sharp inhale. He whimpered into his hands, covering his face from the slowly retreating sun.

He slid his phone out of his pocket once he caught his breath, calling the only number he knew.

“Hey honey. What’s up?” His mom’s voice rang back sweetly.

Colby’s voice was monotone, exhausted. “You know who Sam is, don’t you?”

The line went quiet for a moment, all Colby could hear was her light breath.

“You told me not to talk about him. After you two stopped being friends, you said you never wanted to hear his name again.” She exhaled deeply, “I was taken aback when you asked about him yesterday.”

“He’s out here… in LA.” He responded.

She gasped lightly. “Did you run into him?”

He laughed bitterly. “You could say that.”

“Oh, Colby. I’m so sorry.” His mother consoled.

“There’s nothing to be sorry about, mama. I just…” Colby trailed off, unable to explain.

“Why don’t you come home this weekend?” She offered. “I miss you, you know.”

“I would love to. But…” His chest heaved as hot tears drifted down his cheeks. “That’s not my home.”

“Nonsense. You will always have a home here.” She assured him, her voice almost trembling.

He wiped a fallen tear, a broken smile coming to his face. “That’s good to know. I love you.”

She hummed. “I love you too, baby. Call me again soon.”

“I will. Bye.” He uttered breathlessly.

The sky was getting darker and darker, and Colby remained against the phone pole. He didn’t know how much time had passed, but suddenly his phone vibrated, a new message from ‘Waitress’ asking where he was. He sent his location, and she arrived twenty minutes later in his car. He stood up, stumbling to his passenger door. His legs were weak from the sprinting he had just done. As he got in, the cool AC blasted the sweat and tears off his face.

They didn’t speak, a quiet radio station playing in the background the only sound. She drove through the hills of LA, eventually hitting a peak. She parked the car as it overlooked LA, the lights looking like stars on the horizon.

She got out a minute later, walking over to the hood and leaning against it. He could see something in her hand but didn’t recognize it. Colby sat in the car by himself, not able to physically move his body from how exhausted he felt. Eventually, he achingly stepped out of the car, sitting next to her on the hood.

“I’m fucked.” Colby breathed.

She started. “I don’t think-”

“Please don’t try to make me feel better. I know you mean well, but I am fucked,” he rebutted, his voice dark. “I’m stuck here, in this universe, where Sam hates me. And as if that weren’t bad enough, I did terrible things, things I know I would never do to him. How the fuck am I supposed to apologize for those mistakes? I wouldn’t take him back if the roles were reversed.”

“Read this.” The waitress stated, handing him a journal.

He glanced down at the leather-bound book, slightly faded from years of writing. He unclicked the lock and opened it, looking down at the pages. It was his, a journal full of writings he had done.

“Where did you get this?” He inquired.

“You were right about your car being messy. But you’d be surprised what you fine if you just look.” She teased.

Colby read over the words, the first entry catching his eye. It was dated a year after him and Sam had graduated high school.

Sam is succeeding without me. I knew he would. He was always so smart when it came to business decisions. He just hit 10k followers on Vine. That’s crazy!

“What the hell is this?” Colby questioned.

She answered quickly. “This whole journal was you keeping up with Sam without him knowing. This version of you always paid attention to what he was doing, even if you guys were no longer friends.”

“I’m obsessed with Sam? That’s great.” He deadpanned.

“You’re not obsessed with Sam. Read this entry.” She skipped a handful of pages, finally stopping on one and showing it to him.

I hate myself everyday for the hurt I caused Sam. I can’t believe what an idiot I was back when I was 18. We could have gone so far together… but I had to go and fuck it up.

He scowled. “Am I supposed to be sad for myself?”

“Keep reading.” She pushed.

The night I chose to never speak to Sam again, I knew I made the wrong decision. But I had to. Sam was ready to go on and do bigger and better things. I was just gonna hold him back. I was terrified of failing, not only myself, but him. He deserves success. That’s why I had to ignore him. I have never been as smart as him. I would have ruined our chances of doing something great. And I have been proven right by how far he has gone without me.

“You stopped being his friend because you were scared, not because you didn’t care anymore.” She repeated.

He slid off the car, scoffing. “So what if I was scared to fail? Sam didn’t deserve the hurt I caused just because of that. And what about me cheating with his girlfriend?”

She jumped off the car, striding up to Colby. She grabbed the journal from his hand. “You didn’t cheat, look.”

She pointed at the bottom of the page, his eyes following her finger.

“Me and Lexi were never together! I hate her for telling him that. One night, they had a really big fight and she came over to my house to ask what she should do. I told her to break up with him if she really didn’t care anymore. And then she tried to hit on me. I told her off and threatened to tell Sam, but she got to him first. She must have told him her and I were together.” The waitress read aloud.

“Wait, if I never hooked up with his girlfriend, why wouldn’t I tell him that?” Colby hissed.

“I think at that point, you wanted the friendship to be over, and I think this solidified it.” The waitress responded.

“All this time I could have been friends with Sam, but I ruined it because I was scared? What a fucking idiot.” He spat.

“You weren’t an idiot,” She interjected. “You just disliked yourself so much you didn’t think you deserved happiness. At least now you know that this version of you isn’t as terrible as you thought.”

“Even with that being the case, Sam’s never gonna accept my apology. Why should he?” Colby lamented, “I let him down the worst ways. I broke his trust and loyalty.”

She shook her head, stepping towards him. “Give him some time. You might be surprised."

Before Colby could speak, his phone rang. He took his phone out of his pocket and looked at the number. It looked familiar, but he couldn’t place it.

“Hello?” He answered.

“Did you really mean it when you said you were sorry?” Sam spoke, his tone hesitant, but dry.

His breath hitched at the sound of Sam’s voice. “Of course. I never meant to hurt you, Sam.”

Sam paused for a moment, before breathing out. “I’m giving you one more chance. Tomorrow. Come by my place. You apparently know where I live.”

“Yeah,” Colby laughed awkwardly. “I’ll come by. Thank you… Sam.”

“Don’t thank me yet. I’ll see you later.” Sam stated, hanging up.

Once the call ended, Colby’s eyes stared down at his phone widely. He almost couldn’t believe that happened.

He inhaled sharply. “Sam just called me. He wants to meet me tomorrow.”

“That’s great.” Her voice just above a whisper.

“He wants to hear me out… he wants to give me another chance.” His face dropped with confusion. “How did he get my number?”

It hit Colby like a brick as he gazed up at the waitress, who bit her lip hiding her smile. “You…?”

“You weren’t the first person I showed the journal to,” she explained. “When you ran off, I was gonna go after you. As I got in your car, I saw this journal sticking out from under your seat. I read through it and… I knew I had to show Sam. I went back in and talked to him for an hour, showing him how much you were actually sorry. How much you had beat yourself up over hurting him. And then I gave him your number. I wasn’t sure if he was gonna call but-”

“Oh my God, you’re amazing!” Colby ran up to her, grabbing her by the waist and spinning her around. She gripped his shoulders tightly as they spun, laughing loudly into his ear. As her feet touched the ground, he stared into her eyes, his smile the brightest she had ever seen it. His hands glided up her body to her face, cupping her cheeks quickly. He smashed his lips against hers, his heart pounding as he did. Her hands lowered to his chest, her grasp on his shirt tightened as she felt herself lose her footing and back up into the car.

As they stumbled, he realized what he was doing, pulling away quickly. “Shit… I’m sorry. I-I shouldn’t have-”

“No, it’s okay,” She giggled. “I’m just… surprised.”

He exhaled, letting his arms fall away from her body. “Me too.”

They leaned against the car, keeping a slight distance from each other. A light blush rested on both their faces; however, it was hard to see with the setting sun, something they were both grateful for.

The waitress sighed, breaking the moment of silence. “I think I know why this happened. Why I was the only one who remembered you…”

He raised an eyebrow, slightly side-eyeing her. “Really?”

“I lied to you when we first met. I wanted to seem a bit cooler than I am, but I don’t think I can hide that anymore.” She began, nervously.

Colby’s face relaxed a little, surprised at her words. “Okay.”

“My friend didn’t introduce me to you guys… I introduced her… to you.” She confessed.

A soft grin came to his face. “I had a feeling.”

She rolled her eyes. “No, you didn’t.”

“Yes, I did! I totally did,” he snickered. “Not every fan knows I worked at Dairy Queen. And… no average fan would have helped me get Sam back the way you did.”

“I think there’s a reason for all of this. I think in your universe, your life… you don’t know me.” Her voice dropped suddenly, making Colby turn to her.

“That’s true, I don’t.” He nodded.

Her eyes met his, a sad glint reflecting in the moonlight. “But I think the reason for that is because… you’re not supposed to.”

“What do you mean?” He replied, his face twisting in confusion.

“I think you and I are only supposed to have met here, in this universe. But not in yours.” She glared up at the sky, “Maybe in some weird way, I’m your guardian or guide or something.”

Colby’s thoughts raced. “So, what you’re saying is-“

“This might be the last time you’ll ever see me. You did what you had to do. You got Sam and you to talk again.” Her voice cracked as she held back tears, “You can go home.”

He grabbed her hands, holding them close to his body. “But… I don’t want to leave if it means I don’t know you.”

A hitched breath fell from her lips, a smile appearing from his words. “If we’re meant to be, we’ll see each other again.”

“That’s not fair.” He shook his head, a deep frown settling on his face.

“I know, but it’s how it has to be.” She whispered.

He rested his forehead against her, breathing deeply. “Can I… get one more kiss?”

She bit her lip softly. “I thought you’d never ask.”

They leaned in, his breath fanning across her lips for a split second before he pulled away.

“Wait…” He shuddered. “I never got your name.”

A soft smile came to her lips. “I’ll tell you after.”

His arms wrapped around her, pressing her body into his as their lips collided. He held onto her for dear life, terrified that the moment he pulled away, she would be gone.

He could feel things around him slow down, almost melting away, but he couldn’t tell if it was from the beauty of their kiss making him dizzy. A whirling silence overcame his senses. A burning sensation sliced through his abdomen; his breath ripped from his lungs.

A heavy darkness overtook his vision and for the briefest of moments, he felt absolutely nothing.

Except her lips.

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#colby brock #colby brock fic #colby brock story #colby brock one shot #colby brock fanfiction #colby brock fanfic #colby brock oneshot #colby brock angst #sam golbach #sam and colby

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yaku-soba · 3 years

Text

everything i could never say to you (i wrote into a song)

༶•┈┈ semi eita x gn!reader | light angst, eventual fluff

༶•┈┈ general m.list

warnings/tags: childhood best friends to lovers, this bad boy can fit so much pining in it, in this fic semi plays the guitar and the piano and also sings, i looped sorry for writing all the songs about you by clara mae while writing this and it shows

word count: 2k

a/n: a repost from my old account!! re-reading this made me realize how much my writing has changed :””) i hope yall enjoy this!!

summary: All of his songs are about you. Eita doesn’t know how to write anything else.

»»------------- ------------- ------------- ¤ ------------- ------------- -------------««

Eita’s had many favourite singers. He doesn’t remember them all, because there are too many, but there’s an interview he’d watched once, back in his first year of middle school that sticks with him.

Find a muse, he remembers the singer saying - he doesn’t remember their name anymore, but he knows these words by heart - find a muse, and write them into your music.

(It’ll be the most painful thing you’ve ever sung, but it will be the most beautiful.

He hadn’t understood what the singer had meant, then.)

»»------------- ------------- ------------- ¤ ------------- ------------- -------------««

“Semi-semi!” You shout gleefully as you throw open the doors to the gym. Catching Tendou’s eye, you shoot him finger-guns, smiling even as your best friend storms towards you, the volleyball in his hand flying against the side of Tendou's head.

“Out,” he says gruffly, catching you by the back of your collar, and you wave a jaunty salute at the rest of Shiratorizawa’s volleyball team as Eita hauls you out of the gym.

“That was mean,” you pout, turning when he finally lets go of you, “and after I came all the way here to pass you your math homework.” You drawl the word all, and delight in the tick in Eita’s brow.

Your best friend sighs, massaging his temple in a way that has no business looking that all-suffering, “I never should have let you meet Tendou.”

Laughing, you hand him the worksheet he’d left under his table. “We would have met anyway,” you point out, “seeing as he had a puppy crush on me back in first year.”

Eita stiffens, and the hand taking his worksheet from you crumbles into itself.

“You’re crumpling the worksheet,” you say, “what, are you jealous?” You wink, your tone just shy of flirtation.

(You wish you were brave enough to just ask.)

He laughs, voice cracking, and the sound grates more than it should.

“Of course not,” he says, free hand smoothing out the wrinkles until it’s like they were never there, “I just wouldn’t wish you on anyone.”

“Right,” you agree easily, “says Semi-I’ve-been-single-my-entire-high-school-career-Eita.”

Your best friend scowls at that. “There’s still a few months,” he argues, and you brush off the rest of his statement by pushing him back into the gym.

“Yeah, yeah,” you say, grinning, “I bet you’re a real heartbreaker, Eita.”

»»------------- ------------- ------------- ¤ ------------- ------------- -------------««

The first song Eita writes that’s worth mentioning is about you.

It’s full of steady strums and simple notes, and when his lips form the lyrics, he sees in his mind's eye the way the sun catches in your lashes in the way they do on gentle spring afternoons. He’s long since memorized the way it drips across your cheeks, honeyed gold like the belly of the guitar that he’d promised himself he’d save up for.

(It’ll be the most painful thing you’ve ever sung, but it will be the most beautiful. Eita hadn't understood it at twelve. At eighteen, he thinks he does.

He understands it now, as a third-year usurped by his junior. Every game he doesn’t spend as the starting setter stings like road burn, but still the court beckons like a mirage in a desert and he cannot let go.

Eita learns to tell himself that this is okay. He’s fine with being a pinch server if it means he gets to stand on the court. At least he still gets to hear the squeak his shoes make against the wood when he takes off like a bird in flight.

So - of course Eita understands, he’s your best friend, after all. And he knows that’s all he’ll ever be.)

»»------------- ------------- ------------- ¤ ------------- ------------- -------------««

Once, when you were children freshly enrolled in middle school, Eita had asked you to be his muse.

You still remember how nervous he had been, how his hands - long even at their age, beautiful like a pianist or a setter’s - shook. You remember the blush across his cheeks, cherry blossom petals you had wanted to keep.

You wonder if he still remembers, if he still writes his songs with you as his muse.

You wonder if they're love songs.

»»------------- ------------- ------------- ¤ ------------- ------------- -------------««

Sometimes, you think that he might like you back.

It’s a thought that you can’t help thinking whenever you catch him staring at you a breath too long, when he makes eye contact with you the moment right before he serves (intense), whenever his fingers linger on your arm (butterfly kiss-light).

Sometimes, he looks at you the way he strums his guitar - gently, all adoration and other soft things. He’ll look at you with the corners of his eyes crinkled (just slightly, like origami), and his lips stretched into a small smile - and your heart will leap, it’ll tumble gracelessly, and you’ll think, what if.

But you are, at heart, a coward. You love Eita more than you have ever loved someone else, and it terrifies you - you don’t know what you’ll do if you lose your best friend.

You don't want to find out. You'll learn to satisfy yourself with just his friendship, because you know, without a doubt, that losing it will kill you.

»»------------- ------------- ------------- ¤ ------------- ------------- -------------««

All his songs are about you.

It’s not even that Eita’s trying. He writes a lyric and realizes it’s a metaphor for your eyes; he hums a verse and finds that it’s the exact pentatonic scale of your laugh.

You’ve wormed your way into every page of his music and into every turn of phrase, and Eita cannot stop hearing you in every song. It’s keeping him from writing anything else.

It's only terrifying because he doesn't know if he wants to write anything else. He tries not to think too much about it, but sometimes - only sometimes - he thinks that by writing you into every note and every lyric, he can make you his. Even if it's only for the length of a song.

(He wonders what you’d say if you heard them.

He wonders if you’d hear the arching crescendo, the way it builds and builds and builds before overflowing, crashing like a wave against the shore - and know that it’s about that night you’d crawled through his bedroom window just because he’d called you, upset. He wonders if you’d pick out the light, sure-footed rhythm that he hides in all of his music and know that it’s a desperate imitation of the thousands of times you’d skipped ahead of him on the walk home.

Eita wonders and wonders and wonders, and knows that the only dreams that hurt him are those that he wants, more than anything else.)

He doesn’t let you listen to the songs he composes, anymore.

»»------------- ------------- ------------- ¤ ------------- ------------- -------------««

It comes to a head two weeks before graduation.

You’re late to lunch with your friend, rushing down the halls with your bag slipping down your shoulder, when you hear it.

There’s someone playing the piano in Shiratorizawa’s perpetually-empty music room, and it’s the rawest thing you’ve heard since the first song of Eita’s that he’d let you listen to.

(It had been simple, no fancy chord progressions, no key change or two-part melody.

When he’d sung it to you, all you could see was the graceful line of his neck, traced by the sunlight through the window of his bedroom, and the tenderness of his fingers on the strings.)

You pause, peering through the tiny window in the door.

It’s Eita. Your next exhale is shaky.

He’s playing a song you don’t know on the piano, and after a few bars you realize it must be one of his own. It’s played too adoringly to be anything else.

It feels like cheating, crouching like a thief outside of the music room, hunched so he can't see you through the window in the door. Eita hasn't played his songs for you in ages, and while you're happy that you finally can hear them, listening to them this way feels too much like a betrayal.

You've just resolved yourself to knock on the door when he starts playing the first song he ever sung to you.

It's a little different - there are triplets now, and they stumble into each other the way you remember tripping into Semi the night you'd skinned your knee and cried, back when you were nothing but children. The phrasing is different, too; there are more arcs now, and every slur feels heady, feels giddy like the brush of his hands against yours on the evenings you walk home with him after he’s finished volleyball practice.

It's different, more complicated. But it's still unmistakably Eita, and every press of piano keys tugs at your heartstrings like calloused fingers on a guitar.

(You think it sounds like heartbreak, slow in the making. It sounds like a decade's worth of nights spent staring at the lit room in the house next to yours, trying to make out his silhouette through the drawn curtains.)

"You should play that for Y/n," someone says suddenly, and you startle before you realize that it came from inside the music room. The voice speaks again, and you recognize it as Tendou's. "It's not as hopeless as you think it is, take the Guess Monster's word for it!"

There's a pause, and you strain your ears to hear Eita's reply.

"This isn't a game, Tendou," is all your best friend says. He sounds defeated, but you can't even focus on that, not when this sounds so much like what you want that it's too good to be true. "And there's no way Y/n thinks of me that way. Even if I-"

You lean closer, pressing your ear to the door more firmly-

-And lose your balance. There's a moment of too-loud silence as Eita cuts himself off abruptly when you tumble into the room, and the three of you look at each other in shock.

Tendou is the first to move. "Well," he says cheerfully, blissfully ignoring the pleading looks you send his way as he stands, "guess I’ll leave you two to it!"

He grins as he walks past you and through the doorway. You’ve never despised him more than you do in that moment.

You turn your gaze back to Eita, mind racing even as you know that it's blatantly obvious that you'd been eavesdropping. You’re still half-sprawled on the ground.

Eita clears his throat. "Um," he starts eloquently. You're struck with the reminder of what he’d been about to say.

Even if you what? You think desperately. What were you going to say?

"Eita," you say, testing his name on your tongue like you haven't already spoken it enough times to fill the seas, "what were you going to say?"

He looks panicked, fingers twitching like bird wings against where they’re resting on the piano keys.

"Please," you add. You have to know.

You watch as he pinches the bridge of his nose and takes in a deep breath the way he does right before a service ace.

"I like you," he says finally, "and I'm sorry."

You’ve never been the musician, not with Eita around, but with his confession, your heart sings.

"I’m sorry," you breathe, and the air aches beautifully as it enters your lungs, and it feels like coming home. Eita’s face falls, something knowing and terrible - like heartbreak - setting in. "Because I like you too," you finish.

There’s a sparrow chirping on the windowsill of Shiratorizawa's music room.

"Oh," your best friend says, except he can be more now, can't he? "Oh," he repeats, and you smile, opening your arms in welcome as he makes an aborted motion to stand.

He fits into your arms like notes on an empty score.

»»------------- ------------- ------------- ¤ ------------- ------------- -------------««

On a lazy spring afternoon, Eita plays to you all the songs he’s ever written.

He tells you they’re about you.

You tell him you know, you ask him if that’s why he used to keep from playing them to you.

He peppers you with kisses.

»»------------- ------------- ------------- ¤ ------------- ------------- -------------««

as always, likes and reblogs are appreciated!! do let me know what you thought in asks / the tags!! </3

#semi eita x reader #semi eita #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!!#kyouka writes #haikyuucreations

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seokahwrites · 3 years

Text

growing pains

2.5k

back to masterlist

pairing.

| high school graduate! min yoongi x high school junior! reader

summary.

| people always said you must let go of what you love, and you finally understand what it means.

tags.

| i am so sorry; this comes from a PERSONAL trauma; i love writing angst; blond yoongi supremacy; ykw min yoongi supremacy in general; reader is emotionally mature asf; reader is girlboss; you could say this could be canon/irl?

a/n.

| sorry for all my nuisance readers that are waiting for the next chapters :P IDK WHEN IMMA PICK THAT UP AGAIN. but i present this min yoongi angst that made me very happy to write, tbh came close to tears while writing it. sorry if the writing is kinda everywhere, hope yall like it tho <33 as always thank u for the massive support and love,, love u all

you weren’t quite sure where all the time went. one day you were brushing your teeth for your first day of school, then boom, you’ve finished your third year of high school. it’s similar to how just yesterday you were helping a tiny kid pick up his soiled cd’s and backpack from a puddle and eleven years later you’re watching him graduate.

well, you didn’t get to actually see yoongi graduate since you were too busy making preparations for the night, but that’s besides the point. tonight had to be perfect.

it is goodbye after all.

who knew that the inseparable min yoongi and y/n l/n would ever have to pull away from each other this way. that little shit better appreciate all the spine bending effort you put into making the spot so amazing — not that it wasn’t great before.

with a literal pat to the back and your hands on your hips, you look around the roof with an uncontainable grin, the flashes of purple and blue from the string lights reflected on the gloss of your eyes, every inhale was overtaken with the smell of coffee seeping from the ice cream tubs and a warm seat on the patio couch awaited, along with fuzzy blankets galore.

you’ve outdone yourself this time.

your hands lean against the cold stone at the edge of the terrace and your eyes wandered to the city that laid beneath your feet, from the green hills at the centre of it all to the luminescence of the glass buildings, there wasn’t a single droplet of air that didn’t feel like home.

tap, tap.

speaking of home, you hear familiar soft footsteps from the staircase, snapping you from your little daze and guiding your way to the entrance, your jazz hands in the air and a smile on your face. god, he was gonna love it.

“surprise!”

yoongi reacts a moment too late, his head snapping up and his graduation cap almost falling from his head. the boy was clad with a blue gown, he looked so mature for a mere second — but it was yoongi after all. his eyes widen before his peach lips make a silent “oh,” the entirety of his gums and teeth making an appearance along with the plumping of his cheeks. your heart falters for a moment at the sight, even worse when his eyes disappear into crescent moons that were surely stolen from the sky.

min yoongi looks pretty. not only that, but min yoongi was ecstatic.

“wow,” his head looked from left to right and top to bottom, “the spot looks great.”

you follow him with tiny steps and once you’re close enough to the couch, you push yoongi onto the plush seat, heading to the cooler and grabbing the ice cream, “i just put a few lights and blankets to be honest,” you take a seat beside him and he covers the both of you with the stack of blankets, “it wasn’t a lot of trouble, really.”

yoongi throws away his graduation cap and wiggles out of the flimsy gown, brushing his fingers through his platinum hair and taking a deep breath before snatching the spoon from your hold, “it’s still perfect.”

come on, y/n. pull yourself together. you tell yourself, but it’s hard when yoongi of all people is sitting beside you under the moonlight, stuffing his mouth with ice cream and glowing.

your memory isn’t quite clear as to when exactly did yoongi stop existing to you but glowing, instead. there’s so many moments to remember.

perhaps it was actually the very first moment you laid eyes on him. your rubber boots were muddy and your yellow raincoat was absolutely drenched, no puddle escaped from your stomps. but just as you were a few houses away from yours you see a figure laying beside a puddle and you realise that maybe that person did not want to be laying down in the cold rain.

and all it took was for you to pick up a kid’s shit from a pool of dirty water to meet min yoongi and shortly after, you were practically attached at the hip.

or it very well could be the night before your big sister moved away, your sobs must’ve escaped through the open windows because min yoongi was knocking at your door in no time — the signature two fast knocks and two slow ones. you were only an 11 year old who had never experienced such a change, and it only dawned upon you that night.

yoongi stayed with you for hours on end until you fell asleep on his lap, still with trembling breaths, but your mind eventually steered away from the fact you weren’t going to annoy your sister before going to school every morning anymore — she can’t put up with you during college — and it focused on yoongi’s cold fingers stroking through every strand of your hair ever so delicately and how warm he actually felt.

and there you were, the same kids with your head on his shoulder only this time, he was the one leaving.

“what’s up with you?” he asks as if he had read your mind.

you pull your hood over your head and you smile a bit for whatever reason, “i don’t wanna talk about it.”

he flicks your forehead, the fucker. the abuse makes you sit up, glaring at him with incredulous eyes and you’re about to say a profanity but he beats you to it, “we need to talk about it, y/n.”

and it pains you how nonchalant he sounds.

you slap your hands to your knees and purse your lips, “fine.”

yoongi finally puts down the ice cream — only a spoon of it left. “we both knew this was coming since freshman year, y/n.”

you scoff, as if knowing a goodbye was coming makes it any easier. “that doesn’t make it better.”

his hand makes its way to yours, placed on top of your fist, that melts into an open palm, with utter ease. still, you pull away, “please, don’t do that.”

and you wince at your own tone. it wasn’t like it’s yoongi’s fault that he’s moving away forever. or maybe it was.

it was unfair of you to say, but the weight on your chest had to have a reason, someone to blame. as yoongi’s best friend, of course you love him more than anything in the world and you’ll always support whatever decisions he needs to make to properly follow his dreams. but as the person that plays with the line of friends and more with yoongi, you almost want to beg him to stay. to stay so he could — for lack of a better word — like you, now isn’t that selfish.

yoongi blinks slowly, “we’ve talked about this y/n.”

ah, of course you have. you’ve talked about whatever the fuck this was several times, some of them were in between your interlaced fingers, others resided in the silence as you slept in the same bed and a lot of them echoed from your bitter words. but, once again, is that supposed to make things better?

the day you told him what you really felt for him is crystal clear in your memory, not only for the painful pubescent confession but yoongi’s own news he needed to share. perhaps your relationship was always ill-fated, yoongi had a scraped knee while you reeked of rainwater and you uttered an i love you while yoongi announced he couldn’t stay by your side. the irony.

your eyes are glassy with unspilled tears when you look up at him. why were you so weak?

“stop acting like it isn’t hard on me too,” he sniffles and shuts his eyes with more force than necessary. oh.

you bite your lip and look away at the guilty sight, afraid of what may come out if you don’t. but, if he does know of the turmoil you feel, why is he still insisting?

cold fingers meet your jaw, pushing you with that same delicacy from years ago until you meet his own concealed bloodshot eyes, “you’re not the only person who’s been in—,” he stumbles with his words, “—liked the other for the last decade, you know?”

why did he have to say it out loud? he’s only making it sound real.

maybe, it was actually your fault. if you hadn’t decided to tell yoongi of the butterflies in your stomach, you could’ve pushed them away and let the fantasy live as fiction. but no, you told him about the damn critters and they’ve been eating away at your core ever since, desperate to come out because min yoongi liked you and he was right in front of you ready to be liked right back, yet you could never reach him.

min yoongi was fishing stars from atop jupiter and you were still dancing on saturn’s rings.

you lean into his touch, placing your own hand on his and chuckling at his cheesy line, “that’s just how lucky i am,” and your attempt at humour makes the corners of yoongi’s mouth lift just a little bit.

his thumb glides on the skin it could reach, “so can’t we just have a night like every other one we’ve spent together?”

classic min yoongi.

but as to yourself, you were sick of ignoring things. you were tired of how your heart throbbed whenever you’d fit your face into yoongi’s neck so effortlessly, as if it was only natural; tired of your cheeks along with the rest of your skin burning with every thoughtless caress and sweet nothings he would whisper at the dead of night; and you were tired of your eyes prioritising yoongi’s soft lips over every other feature on his face and how much you yearned to touch them with your own — of how you’d always catch his gaze mirroring yours.

a person could only take so much and you were bursting at the seams already.

still, you only nod.

the silence became unbearable by the minute, even with your head on his shoulder and your hands in his pocket, there was so much that wanted to get out — yoongi would only need to say the right wrong words for all of it to come spilling out. so you speak first, making sure that doesn’t happen.

“it’s gonna be weird without you, y’know?”

you feel his cheeks puff up, subtle as ever “of course,” he squeezes your pinky out of pure habit, “who’s gonna make home cooked meals for me if you mom ain’t around,” and you wish you could white out the blue in his words.

“i swear—,” you chuckle and cross your arms, lifting your head to stare back at the constellations, “—she probably cried more than me when i told her you were leaving.”

before the words could echo back in your head, your eyes are back on yoongi and the boy is staring at the floor with a flood threatening to break out from his eyes.

you just had to open your mouth, huh.

your mouth forms incoherent noises in a miserable attempt to make up for your little slip up, but to no avail. yoongi only shakes his head and looks at you, the way his shoulders slumped exposing that he was trying just as hard to pull it together, maybe even harder.

“me too,” he utters, and you don’t fully understand what he means by that.

a bubble seems to form around the both of you, locking you in your own little world with yoongi, as it always happens when you let him entrance you for a moment too long, and in those seconds that spread to hours you just want to float away, you’re not sure where to but the gloss in his eyes are enough to guide the way.

“y/n,” don’t, “i’m gonna mi—.”

pop.

“please don’t,” you hate the venom that seeps from your tongue, “please stop, yoongi.”

and you want your tears to come thundering over your cheeks, for the red you’re holding in to shoot out from your heart, just so you could show him an inch of what you’re feeling. but you can’t. you shouldn’t.

yoongi’s soft eyes sharpen, “why don’t you want me to say it?”

no, no. that’s a lie.

of course you want to hear him say it. you want yoongi’s voice to sing every word of affection he has to tell you, you want to be wrapped with the smell of yoongi’s embrace, for him to whisper every sin for only your ears to hear and you want nothing more than to remain in every moment you’ve spent with him.

you look down, “if you say things out loud, they might come true.”

he races to grip your hands over his lap, “but it is.”

it is, it is, it is.

you blink away your tears before gazing back at your little piece of the sky, a smile never present in his pouty lips, yet you still read every pore of his skin like the back of your hand.

“yoongi,” you despise your sniffling tone, “let’s face the facts. you’re gonna be hundreds of kilometres away in a big city, i’m gonna be stuck in our little neighbourhood for who knows how long and all we can do is try to forget each other,” your voice breaks, “what could it possibly lead to?”

as you said those words, the reality of it all was coming to hit you with a second wave. the crack of what you both hoped to be was audible in the sounds of you settling back into yoongi’s hold, the silent sobs — that you convinced yourself came from the moon and stars, not from your min yoongi — even more so from the silence that came after your speech.

you could’ve asked yoongi to stay, of course you could have — you wanted it more than anything else. but you knew that he would stay and change his mind in a heartbeat if it was for you, and you couldn’t allow your boy to throw away his dreams for something as meaningless as love — or at least, you try to convince yourself it is.

perhaps yoongi would move on, he would find another person and start a family, have three children and a beautiful house and he’d be living off from all the music he gave to the world all this years ago, just like he always dreamed. perhaps you’d only be a fond memory he would look back on from time to time whenever he’d laugh at old memories after a few drinks with his beloved.

or maybe — and dare you say, hopefully — yoongi would never move on, he would work around the clock with the thought of coming back into your arms and nothing else. he would never leave his cheap tiny studio, only stepping outside during the rise of the moon and he would look at the stars, remembering that a person in daegu is in love with him with all they’ve got and that would be enough to keep him company. because you know for a fact, for the way your heart beats at the mere thought of him, that you would never stop loving min yoongi.

at the present, side by side breathing is more than enough.

“the moon is beautiful, isn’t it?”

and he truly is.

“i can die happy.”

should i make a permanent taglist? idk TELL ME IF U WANNA BE IN IT

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passable-talent · 3 years

Text

ya boi is back with a new niche character played by hayden christensen for yall to enjoy.

CW: blood, wounds, cursing, piercings, tattoos, guns, fighting, deaths of unnamed characters

AJ x gn!reader - Takers (2010). the stupid hat grew on me.

dedicated as always to @haydens-moles and @iscariot-rising for being my friends and for appreciating hayden as much as I do

The story of your life, as you loved to explain it, boiled down to a little math joke. Excited five, you called it, or it’s official terminology- five factorial. Written as “5!”, hence the awful pun.

“Factorials,” you’d say, “for those that don’t remember, are a multiplication of every number up to the one that’s being discussed. As such, five factorial is five, times four, times three, times two, times one.”

Your life, your excited five, was as follows: five major scars, four tattoos, three piercings, two eyebrow slits.

“The one is usually ignored,” you’d say, “as it makes no multiplicative difference. That’s why I don’t have a ‘one’.”

In August, 2009, you got your ‘one’. Its a doozy. But we’re not there yet.

~~~

Five major scars.

December 25, 1983. It’s your first Christmas. Your parents think you’re just being a cranky infant, but something way more serious is going on- they find out the next day that you’ve got RSV, a respiratory virus that’s especially dangerous for infants. You spend the next three years periodically using a ventilator whenever the coughing acts up. You don’t remember much of it, other than the vaguely crayon-looking piece of the machine, but you can’t forget that it happened, due to the pretty white scar over the bridge of your nose. It’s not such a gnarly wound as it is a reminder- not of the ventilator that wore through your skin thanks to frequent use, but of the virus that almost took your life only a few months after it had begun.

July 28, 1993. You’re seven years old, staying at your grandmother’s house with your cousin, who’s six months older than you. You’re playing cops and robbers- he’s the cop. The forest streaks by as you run the length of the property, slightly faster than him, but he catches you and throws you down. You land on your back on a jagged rock, not only painfully impacting your spine but digging deeply into your muscles beside it. It was the first hospital visit you remember, and the dark, long scar halfway between your tailbone and your shoulders reminds you never to fall without controlling it.

January 15, 1998. You’re in sophomore year of high school, and not the most popular. You like to play by the rules, and some asshole junior decides that he doesn’t like the way you won’t let him cheat off of your trigonometry homework, and decides that a knife is the best way to settle the problem. Those homework answers weren’t worth the long white line over all four of the knuckles of your left hand, but it is a pretty little reminder that lowlifes do what they want. And law enforcement, or whatever your school called the ‘anti-bullying league’, does jack shit about it.

October 30, 2002. You’re almost done with your certification to become a cop- thank god. You couldn’t stand the people who were to become your graduate class. They were so ready to become cops just to bully people, just to get to weild an iron fist and hide their bloodlust behind the law. Not you- you’re here to do some real good. That’s what they don’t like about you. And that’s why Fred Young splits open your cheek when just he’s supposed to be practicing his sparring. It’s an ugly scar, needed six stitches, but it’s a reminder that even the cops aren’t always the good guys.

May 14, 2004. You’re a new cop, working under detective Wells. There’s a robbery of a jewelry store a few blocks from where you’re patrolling, and as you’re making your way to the scene, a man in a fedora runs smack into you, taking you both to the ground. Broken glass digs into your shoulder, but he apologizes, and his blue eyes look so genuine. He’s afraid. You’d not realize until a month later that he wasn’t a scared bystander, but in fact one of the thieves. The fifth of your scars matches your first meeting with AJ- who would, by the end of the summer, become one of the most important people in your life.

~~~

Four tattoos.

August 4, 1999- Left wrist, inside knob of the bone. The little symbol had represented something to you when you were sixteen, but it had long lost whatever meaning you’d given it. Now, it was just a pattern to pass your thumb over whenever you got restless.

February 16, 2002- The cap of the right shoulder. It was your bunk number, from when you were training to be a cop. Nothing extravagant, but it was supposed to represent the beginning of the rest of your life- it was supposed to represent your calling.

June 1, 2004- Left arm, the outside of the forearm. Bleeding from your first tattoo was a new one, the largest one on your body. It was geometrical and high contrast, black lines loosely following your veins up toward your elbow, as though that left hand was bringing darkness into your body. It did- you shot with your left hand.

July 17, 2004- Right collarbone. A single, circular monogram, made up of six letters.

T A K E R S.

~~~

Three piercings.

April 7, 1989. Your father took you to get your ears pierced, but insisted upon arrival that it was too expensive to get both done, so you only got your left. The assymetrical style would have to grow on you- at six years old, you hated it.

May 19, 2003. You couldn’t have piercings at the academy, they were unprofessional, they were dangerous. So the night of graduation, you went out and got a hole punched into your nostril- the pain made tears well up, but more than anything, it was the satisfaction of giving a pretty little ‘fuck you’ to your superiors, who you’d never see again.

July 18, 2006. AJ takes you to a fancy beauty salon for an eyebrow bar after hearing maybe once that you’d wanted another piercing. You knew you were in love with him- who else in your life had ever paid such close attention to you?

~~~

Two eyebrow slits.

June 23, 2004. You leave the police force. You tell Wells that it’s because you’re pissed you can’t find the guys that robbed the jewelry store, but that’s not even close to the truth. You’ve found them- hell, you got a good look at one of them on the very day of the robbery. But you’ve done the looking, and didn’t have the heart to bring them in. They had families. They donated ten percent of every heist to a charity. They did more for the community than the police you worked for, and they did it clean- they didn’t hurt anybody, if they didn’t have to. They did what you’d hoped to do, when you joined the force. What you’d never gotten to do. Eyebrow slits were considered extremely unprofessional, so the moment you were free of your two week notice, you split open your right eyebrow. It would give a good balance to the bar piercing you hoped to put through your left someday.

March 4, 2007. You’re cleaning up your slit when AJ walks into the room and stands behind you so that you can see him through the mirror. You keep your eyes on the trimmer you’re so delicately running over your skin, but when he opens up a little felt box with a pretty ring inside, you whirl around with such panic that you make the slit approximately half an inch wider than it should’ve been. Lilli helped you fill in the gap for the engagement photos, but you decided to keep a second slit on the other end of the unfortunate shave- a little reminder of the evening in which he proposed to you.

~~~

“The one is usually ignored,” you’d say, “as it makes no multiplicative difference. That’s why I don’t have a ‘one’.”

On August 27, 2009, you got your ‘one’.

You’d been out of the game for two years, choosing not to take a cut of the winnings. You’d advise, you’d plan, you’d set up, but you did not want to be on site when the heist went down. The boys had it taken care of, and you butted heads with Jesse far too often for anyone’s comfort.

You especially couldn’t work on this project, thanks to a little fucker named Ghost- he didn’t trust you, as a member of the Takers he’d never met, and you didn’t trust him, as a criminal you’d never grown to respect.

You knew that most of them didn’t trust Ghost either, but everything he brought forward checked out- AJ must’ve mumbled the plan thirty times in his sleep in the five days from its suggestion to its fruition. There were no holes. Knowing Gordon and John, they had some ‘insurance’ for Ghost, anyway. In case it went wrong.

Still, you stayed at the Hotel Roosevelt through it all. You were their sitter, keeping the hotel room warm and ready for their arrival. They arrived back one by one- and like usual, AJ got there first. He, Gordon, and John were usually the first to get out, but he always made it back to the room first, because that way he could get some time with you. That way, he could have a private reunion, fresh off of a job.

“Hey, baby,” he said as he closed the door, and you waited for him to turn his eyes to you before you gave him a smile. He threw down his bag onto one of the chairs, and it landed with a heavy thump, but you’d long grown used to the sound of the score. However much he pulled, good for him. You were just happy to slip your arms around his neck and feel him kiss the scar on your cheekbone before sliding his lips to yours.

He always kissed different right after a job- before the boys had all gotten back, before the total was counted. He had a confidence to his movement, but there was fear, insecurity, just a tinge. He wasn’t just a taker, he was a man, who had worries and risks just like every other man.

You were out of the game for a few reasons. They had it taken care of. You butted heads with Jesse. You didn’t trust Ghost. But you knew that you were AJ’s biggest fear- you knew that if you got hurt on a job, he’d never forgive himself.

So he kissed you, he held you close, he reminded himself that you were here, you were fine. His long fingers seems to take up half your back, and his hair was already in his face, as though you’d tugged it there yourself.

With just one more pass of your lips over his, you pulled away.

“How’d it go?” You asked with a soft voice, rolling your first finger through the curls at the back of his neck.

“Could’ve gone better,” he said with a chuckle, “but we got it done.” You heard a knock at the door, and Gordon was the next arrival- then John, then Jake, then Ghost. Jesse came last, and with him, a whole host of new problems.

A bullet splintered the door and caught AJ somewhere under the ribcage. Everyone hit the floor, diving behind couches, and you popped your head up long enough to see AJ launch over the kitchen island. The room shattered into gunfire and feathers from expensive pillows, glass shards littering the ground like raindrops. It all moved so fast, and the air exploded into noise. You could barely track AJ through it all, he was so far away, all the way across the room. And you wanted to keep your eye straight down the barrel of your gun.

“AJ!” Jesse called from beside you, hidden behind a brown leather couch, “You okay?” You looked around the side of it, and saw him ten feet from you, the longest ten feet of your life, behind the kitchen island. He was struggling, on his hands and knees.

“Get up,” you snarled, knowing he’d already taken a hit.

“Out the back!” John ordered from the doorway behind you, and you started to realize the moment, the dangerous, heavy moment. AJ was all the way across the room- he couldn’t cross it. Not with these mobsters holding ground.

“Let’s go!” Gordon shouted, and your eyes connected with AJ’s. He saw the same thing you did.

“Go,” he said, voice calm, and it cut through the chaos of the room, cut through every hardened lesson ever pounded into you, cut through every wall you’d ever built around you, around your heart. “I’m coming.”

AJ was a good liar. But he couldn’t lie to you.

“No,” you growled through gritted teeth, and you made a rash decision.

You’d always been good at gymnastics. You had strong control over the movement of your body, and had, ever since you’d learned from your cousin throwing you down onto that stone that split open your back. You could move and slink and roll and dive in ways that would keep you not only from falling, but even from being noticed.

Using the chaos as your cover, you did a tight diving roll across the room to him, slipping between shelters unscathed. This brought you just a bit closer to the mobsters, but further from the back door exit that Gordon had been trying to guide you toward. You’d chose AJ over your safety any day- the surprise and the fear in his eyes said that he wished you wouldn’t.

Making sure you had enough ammo, you considered your final move- this didn’t end until these mobsters did. There were five of them left, after all this commotion: four in the room, one in the hall. You couldn’t take all five, not with their guns being so much more than yours, but you could take out a few. You could shift attention, you could buy time.

And hopefully, you could stay breathing, too. That’d be nice.

“Stay down,” you hissed, leaving AJ behind the island where he’d be forgotten about, or assumed dead. Then, you rounded the corner and rolled to the feet of the closest mobster. As you came out of the roll you caught his legs in yours, wrenching them from under him and taking him to the ground with one of the first moves you’d learned in basic training. He hit the wall hard, and was unconscious by the time he landed- the same could not be said for his friends.

From your right, you could see Gordon, still firing, still hopeful for your and AJ’s escape. Your shoulders were above the couch, so you knew he saw as you turned your weapon to the second mobster before he could turn to you, and stopped his heart.

Your commotion had caught the attention of the other three who still remained. You whirled around and raised your gun to one of them, but they managed it first.

Gordon had to swallow back his horror as he saw a bullet enter the front of your side profile, and blood explode from the back. He took out the mobster who still had his attention on you- but your shoulders smacked to the ground outside of his view, and he closed the door.

Luckily, their aim was spotty. You now had a useless left arm, but you were still breathing. Not that you’d let the one remaining mobster notice that.

You and AJ played dead, only a few feet from each other, but the kitchen island becoming a thicker wall than any you’d ever been split by. As you stared blankly at the ceiling, taking shallow breaths hidden by the folds of your shirt, you hoped he didn’t think you were dead. You hoped he wasn’t bleeding out.

After what felt like agonizingly long minutes, the shooting finally stopped, and the door opened again. Gordon was the first to enter the room, and rounded the couch to you, grief in his eyes, expecting the worst.

But you could give him a smile.

“Surprise,” you groaned, and he lit up in relief, helping you sit up with your good arm.

“Look at you, playing dirty,” he said with a laugh, “I thought you were gone for sure.”

“AJ,” you heard Jake say from across the room, and finally AJ could sit up from where you’d forced him down. The two of you had both bled straight through your shirts, but there wasn’t any time for sweet reunions- everyone had to get out, and fast.

AJ left his car wherever it was. John gave the two of you a ride to the airstrip where Gordon was going to disappear for a while, and on the way you and AJ attempted to give each other first aid until the personnel on the plane could take care of it.

Eventually, you leaned against his left, and he against your right, your wounds still stinging and sticky with blood, but manageable, for as long as they needed to be.

The night didn’t get any easier, but that didn’t matter- you were home free, they’d managed the job, and Ghost was out of the picture, and neither of you were going to die.

And someday, when you felt brave enough to recount your near-death, near-loss, near-jailed experience, you’d say:

Five major scars, four tattoos, three piercings, two eyebrow slits. And one gun shot wound.

-🦌 Roe

#reader insert #angst #aj #aj takers #takers #takers 2010 #hayden christensen #anakin skywalker #x reader #gn!reader #aj x reader #fics

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1-800-i-ship-it · 4 years

Note

khun modern bf headcanons?

Hmm oof i am probably not the best person to be asking this cause I dont write fics or anything but I’ll do my best

So i realized that i just wrote plot stuff but im posting anyway cause i spent way too long on this ahaha

apologies in advance for typos that I'm too lazy to go through and correct

Enjoy the headcanons that i wrote later + plots that i originally wrote and went on a long tangent on oops

Headcanons:

Khun would be that subtle overprotective boyfriend

He’d just kinda silently watch from afar but he’d totally kill anybody who hurt bam in any way, shape, or form

But he’d like be SUPER sweet with bam like

Pet names yall PET NAMES like khun and bam would prob both mutually melt when they call each other pet names

Khun would always help bam with hw and whatnot, let’s pretend bam’s a physics genius cause thats just how i imagine him in modern life, always has trouble with law class (he’s taking it just for khun so he can understand what khun’s talking about) so khun helps him

Khun would be a super smooth talker, can woo a n y b o d y, exceptional at speeches, captain of speech and debate team

Khun would never admit he’s jealous but like the whole gang would know (except for bam who’s clueless as usual)

Like bam is friendly with everybody so khun’d just be like ugh screw yall

But then bam always confides in him and spends a crapload amt of time with him so he knows he’s just doubting himself and he’s mad at himself about it cause he knows bam is loyal to a fault and would never betray him

When bam gets older bam uses this against him hehe

Khun would also be that bf that everyones jealous of

Everyone would want to be with khun but he only has eyes for bam

Ignores everybody else who hits on him

Side note i still stan top!bam and bottom!khun

Khun would also be super thoughtful and goes out of his way to help make bam’s life easier whether its doing chores or smth etc, and each time bam smiles at him and expresses his gratitude khun’s heart would melt for the 1000th time

But like secretly khun really likes confident and sexy bam

They’d probably roleplay ngl (let ur imagination wonder~)

Khun would enjoy just spending time with bam :’) just cuddling and doing mundane things, they’d be super adorable together, hugs and kisses and ah just too cute-

Khun secretly likes bdsm and bam knows this 😏they switch roles from time to time, i cant decide who’s sub/dom

Khun would plan a super elaborate proposal to bam but then somehow bam would catch him off guard and then khun would just blurt it out when they’re together <3

Khun’d always be up early to cook for bam, they both morning ppl tho khun’s always sleep deprived bc hes also a night owl

Khun is shy with pda in public but eventually he and bam decide they dont care anymore and just hold hands and act all lovey dovey to the point where shibisu cant decide if he’s a proud dad or if he wants to throw up, rak is always proud of his turtles, endorsi and hatz literally want to throw up all the time and would die before admitting that they secretly approve of khunbam

Khun is all around a model bf that i am sure half the fandom would be willing to date but im sorry guys khun’s taken cause he’s only got eyes for bam~

Plot things/idk what they’re called:

CEO!khun and intern!bam

Assassin!khun and assassin!bam who eventually get together and destroy the corrupt system

Gdi i thought of so many while having dinner but i forgot

Hmmmm

Imagine bam as jue viole grace like forced to work in a gang or smth and then khun as the gang boss

I totally dont have a thing for badass assassin themed things pls dont judge me

Teacher!khun and student!bam (ofc it’d be near graduation if u get my drift...😏)

Idk why i thought of this but imagine idol khun o.o wait YO idol khun + assistant bam

Tutor!khun and student!bam

I feel like im literally just saying the same ideas

Theres a reason why im not a fic writer :’)

High school sweethearts -> angst bc parents dont approve, sad forced breakup, no contact -> get back together when older after a time-lapse when they’re more mature, heated reunion

Best friends bam and khun since preschool, since they were in the womb, PINING, both of them scared to admit it cause they dont want to ruin their friendship, meanwhile the entire gang is betting on them getting together (aka mainly rak and shibisu betting, hatz, endorsi, anaak, (insert s2 and s3 gang dont wanna spoil) everybody etc)

Uni students with khun as a law major and bam as a cs major (both geniuses, nerd bam), roommates *insert smirk* lots of pining, blushes from them casually changing in front of each other...the rest is up to ur imagination

Khun and bam as rival sports teams coaches

Age gap!khunbam (not a lot, somewhere between 5-8 yrs), with bam as the younger one who kept saying that he loves khun but khun just laughs it off bc bams a kid but then khun sees bam after he comes back from college and bam gets a massive glowup from clueless cinnamon roll to clueless cinnamon roll hottie who only has the hots for khun (still) and then khuns all like “fuck” *dies inside*

Single dad khun, bam as a daycare employee who keeps getting flustered by khun, khun takes interest in bam bc he doesn’t ask nosy questions like other ppl, and bam has these mesmerizing golden eyes

Tailor/dry cleaner owner!bam and office worker!khun who constantly needs his clothes to be altered so they fit exactly how he wants them to (this eventually results in awkward moments and blushing), and also dry cleans like his countless number of suits and dress shirts and whatnot

Author!khun and publishing assistant!bam (is it even called publishing assistant honestly i have no idea but u get what i mean right), khun never signs books but bam convinces him to

Poet!khun and uni student!bam as a literature major who’s a big fan and wanted to meet khun at one of his signings but is too shy even though shibisu drags him there, accidentally bumps into khun in the bathroom, is all flustered, ends up talking to khun for super long, khun loves bam’s enthusiasm for the subject, offers to give feedback on bam’s poems, bam is literally about to combust, they have lots of meetings and khun flirts with bam who’s clueless but blushes a lot anyway, they kiss *ahem* the rest is history

Spy!khun and bam, khun realizing he doesn’t want to hurt bam, sends fake info back to his country (ruled by eduan and jahad), eduan finds out (sent khun out in the first place bc khun was a threat to him cause the ppl liked khun better), sends out an assassin to get khun, who knows this and escapes with bam somewhere, some complicated plot taht idk how to figure out but you get the drift, eventually khun rules the country with bam

Real estate agent khun and contractor bam, eventually start their own business together

Khun as student pres, also known as the ice king bc he’s turned down dating everyone who asked, bam as the transfer student who catches his attention (bam with more of a jue viole grace complex), the silent physics genius who is also on par with khun when debating in speech and debate club

Khun and bam as besties, always do their hw together and hang out after class (cause bam always needs help haha), something leads to them fake dating, eventually real dating 😏

Khun and bam as besties, always do their hw together and hang out after class (cause bam always needs help haha), someone (rachel, DO NOT KILL ME I HAVE A REASON) asks bam out and he doesn't know how to say no (the rest of the gang egging him to date cause they know khuns gonna be jelly) khun goes and sulks, eventually bam gets hurt and manipulated by her, khun is pissed off, rachel is reported for abuse, khun and the gang fight for bam, khun is there for bam all the time, after a while bam asks khun out of the blue if khun likes him (shibisu let it slip that khun is gay bc god knows bam is oblivious af), khun is shocked but says yes bc he cant hide it anymore, bam says he always loved khun but thought khun was straight (bc of some dumb rumor someone said) which was why he ignored his feelings and agreed to date rachel bc he just wanted to distract himself, lots of cuddling thereafter, they get together, rak wins the bet for when khunbam will get together, khunbam gets married

oh man that became way longer than i expected...anon i hope u enjoyed that? half of it prob made 0 sense ngl and idek if i answered the q properly?

kudos to you if you actually read like all my rambling :’)

#bluris answers asks #1800ishipit answers asks #khun headcanons #khun the modern bf #i always write way too much oops #idk what im doing #if you really read till here bless ur heart #headcanons #plot things

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ladymelissaduthe · 4 years

Text

challenge #3.5

aka the animal shelter (jackson #4)

a/n: i must say-- writing has been tough for me the past few weeks what with school but I bring yall this fic before stuff goes down at the ball. enjoy this fic yall, IT’S ADORABLE. @jackson-graham ;) Bri you know ily, thank you for this RP AS ALWAYS. Doc link is in the title. ENJOY, I also have some a/ns in the notes because Missy is too dumb a bitch to notice certain things and I can’t help but mention them . this is also my longest fic so far LMAO (9346 words)

An independent community engagement proposal.

Oh gosh, it was exciting to really have the chance to try and make a difference. Try to do something big and grand to really help people. It was a way for me to show everyone that maybe I didn’t constantly have weddings and parties on the brain. If I was somehow still here in the palace, even if my disastrous first date with Arin, I guess I needed to show everyone that I had more to offer than just being Missy the Wedding Planner. Something a little more princess material, yesiree!

Still, finding a cause close to my heart was more difficult than I actually planned.

I mean… it was difficult… to really figure out a struggle to help with.

One day, it just struck me though, while I was talking to my Grammy on the phone. Reminiscing about the long days we spent together at the Oncology center in Orleans. For all my years, maybe the worst struggle I’ve seen up so close to was having to go see my Grammy go through the Big C.

A part of me wanted to think of a way to help local oncology centers, and I had to think for a couple of good days until I realized something while sitting in the greenhouse. Somehow I was reminded of a previous conversation here.

This is going to sound weird but, what’s working in an animal shelter like?

It’s hard. Lots of animals, easy to love, but not easy to see what’s been done to them. Or witness how plenty of them are looked over for other animals.

A program that helped train shelter animals to be therapy animals for public spaces.

It was perfect, and I got to work with it as soon as I got back to my room.

Maybe I was a little way over my head initially, but after a couple of days, I was able to Joogle and contact who I needed to call, which is something not entirely new to me.

It was like calling a bunch of vendors for a party, except it wasn’t vendors and the party was a community project that wasn’t really a party.

The beneficiary partners of the project were going to be the East Angeles Oncology Center and one of the city’s main social centers. Convincing them was initially tough if it weren’t for the fact that I mentioned that I was a Selected. Talking about the project and how they could benefit from it was pretty easy after that.

The possible animal trainers were a quick reference thanks to a previous client of mine apparently being on its board of directors. No wonder their dog was their ring bearer.

I needed a couple of them to help make a course that would allow the animals,

I just needed an animal shelter partner. Luckily, I was just waiting for another chance to see the right person to help me with that.

----------

“Jackson! Oh my gosh!” I wave over and try to run over to where he is.

It was a couple days of waiting, sometimes seeing an empty hallway and hoping I would see his face when I would turn a corner. I really just spent most of that time preparing my proposal, writing things down while hoping to get a chance to talk to him and ask for his help. Most days to no success. Today, however, was my lucky day.

Jackson seems to turn when he hears me call his name, stopping in his tracks with a wave back at me. I was careful not to trip in my heels as I ran over to him down the hall.

“Hi Missy.” He greets with a signature warm smile.

I catch up to him, though needing a moment to catch my breath. I raise up my hand for a quick moment. Ooo wait give me a sec to breathe. One Mississippi. Two Mississippi. Three Mississippi. Okay, good.

“I was hoping to see you again around here.” I push some of my hair behind, hoping it would let me catch the air better. “How are you?”

“Not too busy.” His brows raise as he eyes my stance. “You okay?” he gestures to my breathing.

“Oh yeah, I’ve just been… running around doing some errands.” I laugh it off, straightening myself.

Jackson was the person I needed to onboard if I really wanted my independent community engagement proposal to be real. Convince him, and it could all fall into place.

“So I was thinking, um... I’m working on this project. I mean— all the girls are working on individual projects for... community engagement. AND! I— I was thinking of... asking for your help on this one.”

Mayhaps explaining it all in one go was a poor choice. Nonetheless, all Jackson does is blink, his smile not vanishing.

“I’m happy to help, Missy. What’s up?”

I suck in a breath. Mayhaps asking this huge favor was a little too much.

Hmm... nah.

“I was hoping that I could ask you to take me to the animal shelter, the one you’ve told me before.” I look to him, trying to contain my excitement. This was the last piece of the huge puzzle.

Jackson looks pleasantly surprised. “You want to use the animal shelter for your project? Really?”

“I mean, why not use the shelter for my project? It could be the model for what I want to propose.” I feel my smile soften at that thought. I really wanted this to happen. “It could give the critters a second life and purpose beyond just waiting for someone to adopt them.”

That was something I definitely remembered from my last conversation with Jackson. Broke my heart to think about that again. Maybe that’s why I was so determined to get Jackson’s shelter to be the partner for my project rather than any other shelter I could call up in Angeles.

“Yeah. It really could.” His smile softens. After a beat, he shakes his head and looks down. Odd. “Um, are you allowed to leave the palace?” He looks up once more to me.

“Well—” I trail off, my own eyes falling to the ground. “I don’t think it would hurt if I was gone for one afternoon.”

As my Grammy always said, it’s easier to ask for forgiveness than to ask permission.

I tuck my hair behind my ears. Asking for favors was a little more difficult than both of those.

“What do you say Mister Jackson Graham?”

((ALRIGHT A/N: LEAVING HOW BRI PHRASED THE REPLY BECAUSE MISSY CAN’T PICK THIS UP BUT…. *CRIES* I WISH SHE DID

*AH HER SAYING HIS NAME THAT WAY. how could he not agree? finds himself nodding* Yes, of... of course))

Jackson seems to nod, “Yes, of… of course.”

I feel my smile grow at his agreement. It’s all falling into place! It just wasn’t going to be some things I wrote on paper!

“Thank you thank you thank you!” I step a closer to Jackson and—wait.

Okay.

Mayhaps… I shouldn’t give him a hug.

I quickly tuck my hands behind my back, hoping that I didn’t look as awkward as I already felt. Um, say something Melissa.

“You have no idea how much this means to me. I promise it’ll be worth your time.”

From the look on his face, he seems to know where I was initially going with my hands, but thankfully, he doesn’t seem to bring it up. All he does is chuckle.

“You don’t have to promise. I know it will be.” He then makes a gesture to a certain direction for us to start walking.

Oh, I didn’t think we were gonna go ASAP… but, the idea of getting to go to the shelter right away was something I wasn’t opposed to.

“Thank you so much again.” I nod a couple of times, smiling as we begin walking. I guess Jackson was wondering why I wanted to go. I should explain myself, or at least try.

“I just... I just want to know, understand, what it’s like.” I start off. Trying to find the right words to put it. Looking back at my life in Orleans, it felt like living in a nice little bubble where everyone seemed to protect me. Mama especially since she never wanted me to even see the hardship she faced when she was still a Six. “It seems easy to just write about a place on paper but, I feel like I should personally know what it’s really like in shelters. You know?”

A part of me knew that I never got to see a part of the world before, but being in the Selection. All those princess lessons. It all really could make a girl wonder about… well the world out there and the not-so pretty fairytale type of situations.

“I think that can apply to most issues like these.” Jackson’s head bobs slightly. “But I do understand. I’m glad you... you want to witness it all.”

I nod again a couple of times, “It’s a place to start, seeing things as they are currently helps you understand what they should be or could be in the future.” I eye him, wanting to tease him. “Lucky for me, I had the right person in mind to help me with that.”

Jackson laughs bashfully, looking down at his feet while we still walked. “Right. I’m just glad I can help.” He smiles in my direction before we take a couple of more steps and opens a nearby door, gesturing for me to go in first. Warms my heart to see that chivalry wasn’t dead, at least not with Jackson.

“Are you sure, it’s not too much trouble on your part? For all I know, you’ve got some important work today at the shelter.” I ask while stepping through the door, waiting for him to step through before we start walking down a narrower and less fancy-looking hallway.

“I have a light load today. And they’re always looking for new people to show around, they think it’s fun.” He sounds amused saying this.

“I hope they wouldn’t mind showing me around,” I say, my eyes scanning the hallway. I don’t think I’ve ever been in this part of the palace. It all looked so ordinary compared to where we were a couple of seconds ago. It still matched some of the accents of the hallway we came from, but it looked more normal, like a nice hotel hallway. I turn my attention back to Jackson. “How long have you been working there again?”

“Four years. Started working after I graduated from high school.” Jackson answers me right before we reach the end of the hallway and Jackson opens another door for us, one that lead directly to what seemed to be the garage.

“Guess you’ve become quite the regular there, huh?” I smile to him as I let him guide me, turning to the garage. Wow.

It was like seeing the parking lot of some debutante’s 18th birthday and all her crazy rich relatives were attending. Was that an Audi I saw? Plenty of nice cars lined up, a motorcycle at the end of the line. It was funny how the luxury of living in the palace still amazed me.

“I lucked out in that area. They’re good people too. You’ll like them.” Jackson leads me to where I assume he parked his car. I smile at the sight of him opening the passenger’s door of an ordinary-looking silver sedan. It reminded me of the one we had back home.

“The real question is: will they like me?” I joke before a grateful smile for his gesture, going inside—feeling my head bump against the frame in process. I let out an ow, before letting myself mumble that I was okay.

“Oo.” I see him grimacing, “Sorry, it’s a bit low. Sure you’re alright.”

“Yeah, totally fine.” I give him a quick thumbs up from the inside of his car, laughing to myself at how silly I am. “I’m just prone to accidentally hitting my head in cars.”

“I’ve been prone to much worse.” He flashes a crooked smile as he shuts my door. I laugh as I watch him head to the driver’s side, climb in and buckle up in a steady pace, setting his phone in the cup holder. I remember to buckle up too.

He starts his car, then holds out a cable out to me, “Do you… want to play your music?”

I look at the AUX cord he’s offering, and I offer him a polite smile.

“You don’t want to know the kind of music I like listening to.” I curl my lips in, trying to suppress the awkward smile creeping up my face.

Jackson raises both of his brows, with a chuckle. “You seem awfully sure about that.”

“You’re the first person to offer me the A-U-X cord in the longest time.” I shake my head, though maintaining a smile. “I think that says a lot already.”

Means my friends hate my taste in music, or are just really tired of hearing Show Tunes.

He shakes the cable a bit. With a small smile he says, “The offer is still out there for a few more seconds.”

His friendly smile was enough to convince me. I suppose I can’t quite say no to a friendly gesture like that, especially with someone already doing me a favor.

I let out a light laugh as I take the cord from him and slip my phone out of my dress’ pockets. “Please don’t make fun of me for this.” I give him a word of caution as I hook it up and tap over to my Dotify, picking the first song off of my morning playlist.

I glance up to Jackson, hoping he wasn’t going to groan at my choice.

RENT – RENT Live Cast.

https://open.spotify.com/track/5ZFx5WIlDGbx2rJ2XZ9dQa?si=ChVHl9ljRUGj-Mi2-In8yw (yes the one Jordan Fisher was in)

The music suddenly fills the car with the loud percussion and electrifying guitar rifts of the show’s opening number, and I look over to Jackson gauging his expression while he starts reversing out of the garage and onto a driveway that probably would lead us out of the palace.

His smile grows the music plays, and I’m slightly relieved that he doesn’t seem to hate what I picked. Relieved enough to let myself take in the view of the coast to our right. I never noticed that the road followed the coastline when I first came here.

There was so much blue, as far as the eye could see. It was a view you could see from the terrace of my room, but seeing it move pass you while you were in a car… it was definitely something else on its own.

“This is Rent, right?” Jackson’s voice steals my attention back, and I find myself nodding enthusiastically.

“Yes! It’s,” my eyes glance down to my phone on my lap, “one of my favorite musicals.”

Probably my third favorite musical, right before Dear Evan Hansen and Waitress.

“I’m a Mamma Mia fan myself.” He half jokes in my direction, though his driving still impeccably smooth.

“Really? You strike me as more of a Hamilton fan.” I return the joke with a teasing look his direction, letting myself lean back and watch us drive more into a small winded hilly area.

((get it,,, cause Jordan Fisher played Philipp/Laurens in Hamilton BJSNKD))

“Hamilton’s definitely a close second.” His smile seems to widen at that, and I notice the car finally reaching a highway. That was fast. The car turns right and I find our car starting to merge with a dozen other cars on the highway. “But musicals are more my second choice of music anyhow.”

I turn to him curiously at that, “So what /is/ your first choice in music, Mister Graham?”

Another RENT song is starting to play, and I turn the volume down while we talk, wanting to hear him clearly.

“More singer/songwriter material. Or the classics. Songs I can learn to play myself.” He glances to me, most of his attention on the road while our car started to merge with more traffic on the freeway.

“Oh,” I reply, not having quite pegged Jackson to be a musician too. A veterinarian/ animal shelter volunteer, and now: a musician. He was full of surprises, huh.“What instruments do you play?”

Jackson’s eyes still stay trained on the road. “Piano and guitar. My mother was a musician and I was the kid that managed to get it to stick.” He says, a half smile on his face.

I keep my head still turned his way, finding myself smiling at his reply. “Did she teach you how to play?”

He nods twice. “In the beginning yes. I progressed by myself throughout the years.” He answers before glancing over to me, “Do you play any instruments?”

I wish.

“Nope, I didn’t have anyone to teach me back in Orleans. No one in my family was interested enough in music for me to pick it up…” I answer, shaking my head with a light laugh. Just one of those things I wished I had picked up when I was younger, instead I had dance classes and competitions, kid pageants, and the occasional tag-along to a wedding.

Still, music was something that I wish I could have picked up if I had someone to teach me since the neighborhood I grew up was filled with little house parties where people would invite each other to listen to a mini concert. I only had a wedding planner, a former seamstress turned wedding planner, and a baker at home with me in the family.

I laugh at that idea before adding a question for Jackson.

“So is your dad a veterinarian?” It would make sense if Jackson picked up his love of music from his mom and his love for animals from his dad.

“Lawyer, actually. We all went down different routes.” He answers, an amused lilt in his voice. So that makes his mom a musician, his dad a lawyer, his sister was an interior designer if I remember correctly, and Jackson: an aspiring veterinarian. Those were all very different routes indeed.

“Guess catching up with each other during family dinners would never be dull what with everyone doing their own thing.” I remark, imagining what conversations they’d have—definitely different from my own family’s, where Grammy, Mama, and I would be talking about the same things happening at DDW HQ. Not much variety, really.

“Absolutely never.” A short laugh escapes him, “Especially when I used to bring in little animals and hide them in my room as a kid.”

I cover my mouth, trying to stop myself from laughing too much at that mental image.

“Are you serious?” A snicker escapes me, feeling only more laughter bubble up from my stomach to my chest. “You’d try to hide little animals?”

He seems bashful about that admission, “It didn’t work out very well. Animals make noise and I didn’t know how to hide them without being noticed.”

“I’m still trying to imagine it,” A fit of laughter takes over me as I sit up straight in my seat and close my eyes to picture it even more clearly.

The mental image of a younger, much smaller version of Jackson hiding a baby bird in his jacket pops into my head. The bird making way too much noise as he creeps up the stairs, Jackson trying to go unnoticed.

“You… probably trying to hide a little critter in your jacket.” I say with my eyes still closed, feeling myself smile at that image. I let out another laugh before opening my eyes to catch Jackson looking over to me. “It’s a no brainer you eventually grew up to become a vet.”

Jackson’s attention seems to linger in my direction half a second longer than he should take his eyes off the road before he turns forward again. I should probably stop trying to distract him from driving.

“I ruined plenty of clothes that way, actually.”

“A minor trade off.” I tuck some of my hair behind my ears, having been messed up while I was laughing probably too hard a while ago. “As long as you don’t hide animals in your jacket anymore.” I eye him suspiciously, obviously just joking.

His smile seems to grow, “Can’t show you all my tricks off the bat, now can I?”

“Guess I’ll have to keep an eye out for you in a jacket from now on.” I maintain my suspicious gaze over to him, trying to stay serious for a few seconds… and failing at that when another bubble of snickers escapes me.

“Not afraid of spiders are you?” He pats his pocket, sounding like he was just teasing.

But I could never really be sure if he was…

“You’re not serious…” I look over to his pocket for a second, before my hands instinctively go up and I move away to the edge of my seat close to the window.

Jackson laughs before putting his hand back on the wheel. “No, sorry, bad joke. I’m spider free for now.”

“Okay, great.” I relax before falling back against my seat and let myself laugh it off. “The last time I saw a spider, I shrieked.”

“Fairly standard reaction.” He sounds amused, “Although as a veterinarian, I have to care for and love all creatures.”

“Ehhhh, the shrieking was partially because of the location too.” I chuckle thinking back, shifting to make myself more comfortable in my seat. “Do veterinarians have one of those ‘do no harm’ creeds like doctors do?”

He hums, “You know I think they do. Seems like a necessary standard.”

It does sound like one.

“Where were you that a location made you shriek more than a spider?”

“You’re not gonna believe it but I…” A flashback of me accidentally falling through a bookcase’s earlier during the Selection. Remembering it all, it seemed more funny than scary, so funny that a laugh of disbelief escapes me. “I fell through a secret hallway back in the palace and I didn’t know how to get out.”

Jackson seems bewildered to hear this, “How’d you manage to do that?”

“Alright so,” I toss some of my hair back and get ready to share the experience.

“I chose this one,” I hold a finger up, wanting to tell this story as animatedly as I can right now, “book on embroidery and I'm reaching for it and leaning against the shelf because it was pretty high up. Then, suddenly the shelf I was leaning against moved and I fell through it into this dark and dusty hallway, obviously home to a couple of spiders and a colony of dust bunnies.”

A short laugh comes from Jackson. “Those secret passageways will really throw you for a loop if you’re not careful. You survived intact, I’m assuming?”

“Intact but in a great need of a shower and change of outfit.” I laugh it off, jokingly squirming at the memory of the gross feeling of all that dust sticking onto me. “Arin was the one… who,” I pause, sometimes talking about Arin was more difficult than initially talking to him. “…got me out of there.”

The smile on Jackson’s face seems to falter after I bring up Arin. “Ah. That was… lucky then.” He pauses for a considerable time before asking, “How’ve you been? After everything.”

I try to find the right words to say.

I clear my throat once I think I’ve figured what was the right thing to say.

“Ah, well, definitely less crying.” My left hand seems to fidget with my ring on my right. “We went out on another…date…? I mean if that’s what you can really call it.” I try to laugh.

“Oh? How did that go?” Jackson’s voice sounds hopeful.

It was sort of an apology date in a way, about the last time. But doing things with Arin, well- they didn’t really feel like dates. Maybe I just… need time to get to know him better.

“Oh…” I look to him, hoping that none of my overthinking about it would show up on my face. “He taught me how to swim. I never really knew how to but I guess I can float and tread water like a normal person now.”

It was very kind of Arin to try and help me with that. Safety first.

“Despite anything else, I think you could call that a personal win.”

“I think so too. Anything next to normal is a win compared to last time.” I try to laugh again, this time wishing it would help with my nerves. A thought crosses my mind. The last time Jackson and I saw each other in person, I was crying over my disastrous first date with Arin. Did I ever thank Jackson for being there? Hmmm… I should probably thank him again just in case.

“Listen… thank you again for that night. I know I’ve thanked you before but—” I turn to smile in his direction, truly grateful for having him there. “it meant the world to have someone to talk to.”

Jackson seems to sit up a tad straighter, his attention going from the road to me. He nods once, “I um—well, I offer that as long as you’d like. Friendship I mean.”

He turns his attention forward to the road again, a small smile on his face.

The words Jackson and friendship seems to just make sense. I mean, being friends with the girls was amazing—especially with having girls like Itzel to talk to, but the idea of being friends with someone outside of the Selection was more than easy to agree to.

“Having a friend around is something I’d like very much.” I smile over to him. “You’re the nicest person I’ve met since I got here.”

It was usually very rare to find the sort of genuine kindness Jackson had these days.

Jackson’s expression seems to become more bashful, “I’ve seen what this royal life can be like when you meet new people. I just… I’m glad I can provide some more normalcy for you.”

“Getting thrown into the royal life can really change a part of you.” A small laugh of agreement escapes me. “It’s good… to have people around to keep your feet on the ground. Maybe that’s why y’all seem to be a close bunch… I mean… your family and Uh… the Schreaves.”

“I don’t know.” Jackson seems to focus more on the road, switching lanes as I see an exit close by. “By now the familiarity has sort of blurred any kind of jarring reality checks.” he chuckles softly.

“I guess the jarring reality check can come along whenever you get out of the palace.” I laugh, looking out to my window. “This still looks so… different compared to what I’ve been seeing for the past two months.”

It was nice to see the city like this instead of just seeing the skyline from the palace rooftop. Angeles was so different compared to Orleans. Even their residential areas looked different compared to what I usually saw back home.

“Compared to the glittering walls and dresses?” Jackson asks in a teasing way.

“Definitely different. I can do away with the glittering walls.” I think, not being too in love with the idea with living in a place as big as the palace. “You can get so scared to walk around in those hallways since every single decoration looks like they’ll cause you an arm and a leg if you break ‘em. But the dresses?” I hum, smoothing the skirt of my yellow mini dress. “I can get use to this.

Not gonna lie, I loved my dresses in the palace the most among the Selected perks.

“They’re quite pretty.” Jackson says so as our car exits off the freeway. I feel myself smile at that comment, not sure why my face feels warm every time I hear something along the lines of that.

Jackson stops at a red light, waiting if he can make a turn and doing so when the light turns green. I haven’t really noticed it but my playlist was playing another song from a musical, You Will Be Found from Dear Evan Hansen, the song softly playing in the background while we drive. I hum along with it as we drive. In the area that we are going through, it looks like a shopping center was nearby. It was bigger than most malls I’ve usually frequented in Orleans.

Oh gosh, I missed going to malls.

Unfortunately, Jackson drives past it, telling me that it’s not much longer until we reach the shelter.

Maybe another time.

“Anything I should know about the shelter before we get there?” I ask, looking over to him.

A knowing smile tugs at his lips, “I hope you won’t mind getting fur all over that dress.”

I chuckle at his advice, scrunching up my nose with a light nah.

We stop at a nearby intersection, and Jackson makes a right where the shops grow further and further apart the more we went down the road. In fact, there were more trees now. Before I really knew it, Jackson makes a left into a parking lot. Taking in the shelter from my window. It was quite big actually, bigger than I imagined it initially. A light blue sign with a paw print with the name:

Angeles Friends for Life Animal Rescue.

I push my hair out of my face when the car comes to a stop at a spot close to the front of the shelter. My hand finds the release button of my seat belt as I say, “Looks like you guys have a fine operation out here.”

A fine operation seemed like an understatement.

He hums pleasantly at that, “We’re lucky to have wonderful management.”

Jackson looks at me, “Ready to meet everyone?”

I unplug my phone from the AUX cord and hold it in my left hand, before looking back to Jackson with a smile.

“I’m always ready.”

Jackson seems like the sound of that answer, unbuckling himself from his seatbelt. E nods and gets out of the car and waits for me to follow. Once I’m at his side, he leads the way into the building’s main entrance into a lobby area. It was as welcoming as the shelter did look on the outside. There was a blue theme going around the room, matching the sign outside. On the walls of the lobby were pictures of what I assumed to be of owners with pets who I assume were adopted from this shelter. My eyes go back and forth between that wall and the huge fish tank behind to be what seemed to be the front desk.

As Jackson leads me to it, a head pops up from below the desk, one belonging to a young man our age. I almost jump at that.

His dark hair looked like it needed a comb.

He smirks at Jackson, then his eyes shift to me, his expression shifting into a beaming smile. He stands, looking tall, lean, and well— handsome, but not quite my type.

“Jackson, my wonderful friend, now who would this be?”

My eyes go to look at Jackson, letting him reply first and I’m careful to not talk over them.

Jackson’s brows raise at that question. “Wonderful friend. Milking it, aren’t you?”

The young man clear his throat, “Come on now, I’d hate to be rude to your friend here. She’s—” he blinks and slowly points a finger between Jackson and I. “How.. what?”

Oh he must have…. Right.

I was kind of famous now, famous by association, I suppose.

The conversation seems to go silent, so I take it as my opportunity to segue and step into the conversation. I’m mindful to make my tone friendly, trying to make sure that this isn’t awkward in the very least.

“Hi there! I’m Missy Duthé.” I extend my right hand out to him over the desk. “I’m interested in workin’ with the shelter for a certain project!”

He shakes my hand, his face still looking dazed. “Missy. It’s… wow. Great to meet you.” His smile seems kinder, but still looking slightly stunned. “I’m Merrick.”

“It’s my pleasure to make your acquaintance Merrick.” I maintain my smile before taking my hand back.

“I’m going to give her a full tour. Is Julianna swamped today?” Jackson asks, and my brows raise at that.

“No no, slow afternoon. There’s a couple looking at the dogs but other than that the place is yours.” Merrick says, his eyes shifting to me, still looking surprised.

I still don’t quite understand the weird fame that being Selected afforded me, but what I do know is that people shouldn’t really be treating me any differently. I try my best to exude a calm energy to put Merrick at ease that I was normal as any Illéan girl could be.

“I was just telling Jackson how you guys have such a fine operation over here.”

“That’s kind of you.” Merrick chuckles. “It’s been years in the making. Family business.”

Jackson gestures to Merrick, “Julianna’s his mom.”

So Miss Julianna, Merrick’s mom, must be the head. I take note of that. I also take note that the shelter is actually a family business, adds to its charm in fact.

“The one and very scary only.” Merrick gives a small glance to the next door, probably scared that Julianna was going to come out.

A chuckle escapes Jackson, “Careful or I might tell her you said that.”

I make sure to nod along their conversation, “So… I suppose Miss Julianna’s the one I’m supposed to talk to about my project?”

“Her or Jackson. He knows how to run the place better than I do and I grew up here.”

Her or Jackson. I smirk over to Jackson at that.

Jackson smiles at the ground before looking to me. “Yes, she is. She can answer anything I can’t.”

I push some of my hair back, still keeping my attention on Jackson. “Well, I didn’t know what my friend was so influential over here.”

“It’s the animals. They outvoted me.” Merrick says, I catch him half-smirking over to us.

Jackson rolls his eyes and mumbles. “Sure, alright.” He clears his throat before turning to me, “We can head back now.”

“I’m sure we can trust the critters’ judgment.” I giggle before nodding to Jackson, feeling my smile grow. “Where to Mister Jackson Graham?”

“We can start with the cat room, then work our way around the building.” Jackson says, and I follow him as he leads the way, clasping my hands in front of me.

“See you later.” He calls back to Merrick.

I hear a beep from the door and see Merrick wave over to us. “Have fun!”

“Nice meetin’ you!” I say turning to Merrick’s direction for a quick second, then turning my full attention to Jackson. “How many rooms are we talkin’ about?”

“We have four.” Jackson’s voice seems to almost be accompanied by the sounds of the barks and scurrying on the ground from the rooms around us. “Two dog rooms and two cat. One’s for the older animals and the other for the younger ones, but there’s a room in between where they can play with another. Outside for the dogs well.” He gestures around the hallway as we walk together.

There’s more pictures of animals on the walls actually, like in the lobby. More stories of adoption. I try to remember the info Jackson is telling me, trying my best to make notes. I find myself getting more distracted by the pictures in the hallway. One of the pictures almost makes me stop for half a second.

A boy my age, with blue eyes hugging a Siberian husky with eyes like his.

He reminded me of Daniel and Jewel.

I wonder if Daniel took Jewel with him to Waverly.

I shouldn’t think about this anymore, letting myself continue walking with Jackson.

“So you guys mostly accept cats and dogs ‘round here?” I ask, trying to push those other thoughts away.

Jackson hums a yes. “We’d like to have more animals, but we’d need a bigger facility. That’s Julianna’s dream.” A small smile appears on his face.

We seem to approach a door with a small window that Jackson peeks inside with.

“Looks like they just finished up their lunch.” Jackson says as I try to peek through the window too, not catching a glimpse as Jackson opens the door for us. I feel myself bouncing on my heels at the sound of all the scampering inside.

The door reveals a small area with a half wall that reached my hips, dividing the room between the small area and a much larger area. We walk over to peek over the wall to see a couple of staff members in the area, more than a dozen of little kittens playing with a few bigger cats, toys scattered around the area.

If there was one thing that could make my heart melt other than weddings, it was a room full of tiny little kittens. I look over the half wall, my eyes shifting from one cat to another cat.

Oh my gosh, there was a kitten rolling a little ball around. Oh my gosh, there were a pair wrestling with each other. I feel my smile only growing as I watch them play with each other.

A thought crosses my mind.

I turn to Jackson, a little shy to ask this.

“Can I pet some of them?”

Jackson smiles back at me. “Absolutely.”

YAY.

He opens a lower door attached to the half wall, telling the other employees that we were coming in. He leads me over to a sink close to the wall, where we wash our hands before we get to hold the cats. I let Jackson go first and follow right after he finishes.

Once we finished washing our hands, Jackson goes over and kneels with two employees and chats with them. I stand close to one of the walls, trying to go unnoticed, letting myself watch Jackson talk from afar.

This was Jackson’s element. It was actually really nice to see him in it. I don’t think there wasn’t a better job for someone as kind as he was.

After a few moments, he picks up a kitten with a grin and brings her over to me. I make sure to receive her and hold her tenderly in my hands, making sure to be gentle as I held her up. My cheeks are already starting to hurt from how much I was already smiling.

“Hewoooo, what’s your name sweetie?” I ask the kitten, before looking up to Jackson and mouthing how can they be this cute?

Jackson seems to laugh at that, “That one’s Ginger.” A couple of kittens purr around Jackson’s feet and he seems to pick one up, pressing a kiss to its head.

“Ginger! Ain’t that a darlin’ name!” My smile can only grow from here, while the kitten seems to purr as I hold her close to my chest and smiling over to Jackson and the kitten he picks up. She was a pretty kitten, with pure white fur. “Jackson, what’s the name of your friend over there?”

“This here is Lucinda. She has quite the spirit.” As if to prove his point, Lucinda opens her mouth to lightly nip at Jackson’s finger.

“Hello Lucinda!” I giggle, smiling down at Ginger trying to move as I held her, making sure to give her feet some needed support. It takes me a moment to remember my purpose for coming here to the shelter. Gotta balance this play with some more work. My hand starts to stroke Ginger’s head.

“So uh… all of these kittens are rescues?”

Jackson nods. “Some have been dropped off by people who can’t find homes for them, others have been found. They usually don’t last very long as people like to adopt younger animals.” My brows raise at that statement, then Jackson gestures to Ginger, “She’s getting picked up tomorrow by a nice family.”

My hand is lightly stroking Ginger as Jackson speaks, and I smile down at Ginger.

“Isn’t that exciting Ginger? You get to have a new family!” I scrunch up my nose when my smile grows, before I look back up at Jackson—still concerned with what Jackson said. “I take it that the next room of cats has a larger population then?”

Jackson bobs his head, “Not much, thankfully. Lately there’s been an uptick in older cat adoptions, to our pleasure.”

His smile at that is different than his usual smile, happier if that was even possible for Jackson.

I like it when he smiles like that, it made his handsome face light up even more. I think I was looking at him without saying anything way longer than I should.. I try to think of something to say. Staring was rude, now just say something. Quick.

“That sounds good!” I smile down onto Ginger, and she looked like she wanted to head over to the other cats. I then place a quick kiss on her head before I set her on the ground watching her scurry to the other kittens.

“Would you like to go see the older cat room? It’s about the same layout, but I don’t mind giving you a peek.”

“Of course!” I stand up and dust some of the fur Ginger had left on my dress. “I wanna see the whole place!” I think I sounded way too excited, laughing to myself to get a hold of myself. “I just... I wanna know what I’m writing about... who I’m writing about better.”

Jackson seems to let my words sink in and his smile changes from that bright smile to something softer, still a nice smile.

“I understand. I’m… I’m glad.” He says and I wait for him to say something else as his gaze seems to linger on me, but he doesn’t. Instead, he guides the two of us out and into the next room.

((One of the things that I can’t add because MISSY IS A DUMB BITCH: The two of them not noticing the employees in the area looking at the two of them like 👀 as they leave))

We spend about an hour going through the other three rooms, mostly me just playing with all the critters and giving them the attention they deserved.

Jackson and I walk down a long corridor, feeling myself smiling as we exit the older dog area.

“I don’t understand how not a lot of people would want to adopt the older dogs!” I laugh, thinking that room probably was my favorite. “Oh Daisy almost tackled me, but gosh! She was so sweet!”

“She really was.” He smiles, “Puppies tend to be popular in this area. Lots of families. We take care of the ones that aren’t adopted anyhow.” He says fondly before his eyes glances to my dress. “You really don’t mind all that?”

I look down and notice the tons of fur sticking to my yellow dress and shake my head as I try to dust myself off.

“Nothing a lint roller couldn’t fix.” I chuckle before running a hand through my hair and noting some pet hair flying away. “Besides, I can’t exactly do the work right without getting a little messy with the critters.”

He nods, “You um..” he gestures to my hair, “have a little clump caught there.”

“Oh?” I turn to Jackson fully, trying to shake it out and comb it out. “Did I get it off?”

Jackson bites his lip and shakes his head with a small smile. He reaches over to me and I stand still, keeping my eyes on him as I feel his hand tug the fur and flick it away. He smiles to me after he does and I can’t help but smile back.

“Thank you very much Mister Jackson Graham.”

From the corner of my eye, I catch some fur sticking to his shirt, on his shoulder to be more specific.

I decide to return the favor, simply brushing it off his shoulder before we start walking again.

“Now where are we headed next?”

Jackson clears his throat, “Well, I was going to take you to Julianna if that’s alright. I figured you might have some more questions.”

“It’s more than alright!” I look over to him as we walk, “There’s the background on the shelter, current problems y’all are facing, current numbers on a lot of things going around here. Of course there’s a lot of things to ask permission about too! I wanna make sure I can let the proposal really help around here... for real.”

“Really?” Jackson asks, looking surprised.

“If there’s one thing I know how to do right, it’s executing a plan.” I smirk to him, though believing with my entire heart that my plan should really be executed. “What’s the point of planning something if you don’t see it through?”

What’s the point of a proposal if you don’t plan on executing it?

What’s the point of a proposal if you don’t plan on marrying the girl? Whoops.

I push that thought away again.

Jackson’s voice helps with that.

“Yeah. You’re right.” He looks, well—it looks more like a stare now, seems hopeful. I hope I could really help with what he’s told me about with this proposal. He seems to really listen to my words, and it’s a comfort to know that he is.

I try to mirror his expression, happy to have Jackson’s attention. “Ya know, there’s more to here,” I tap my temple. “than knowing how to plan weddings and parties.” I chuckle lightheartedly as we reach a door and stop by it.

“Is this Julianna’s office?”

Jackson nods.

“It is.” He pauses, looking like he’s about to knock at the door, but instead he turns to face me.

“I’ve always thought you’re more than planning weddings and parties, Missy. Thought you should know.”

I blink a couple of times, feeling my face warm. Well, not just my face. Everything felt warm as his words echo in my head. I don’t think he knew what those words meant to me. I’m thankful that Jackson had turned his attention away as he knocks on the door. I try to get a hold on myself.

Julianna calls out at Jackson’s knock and he enters first before I do, the two of them sharing a friendly greeting before Julianna looks over to me. Jackson then introduces me to Julianna.

I snap myself out and hope that the warmth I felt on my face didn’t show in a blush.

I move forward and extend my hand out to Julianna.

“Hi! Um, I’m Missy.” I wince, knowing that Jackson has already said my name but I try to remain calm. “I hope I haven’t come at a bad time.”

Julianna seems quite friendly as she shakes my hand from where she’s standing in front of her desk.

“Not at all. What can I do you for today?”

“Well, Miss Julianna, I’m currently working on a community engagement proposal—it's uh, a project for every Selected girl, you see-- and I was thinking of partnering up with this very shelter to be ground zero for operations.”

I look over to Jackson, silently hoping for him to tell me how I was doing. I don’t know why I’m suddenly tripping over my words.

Jackson nods once in my direction, an encouraging look on his face. I could hear him say you’re doing great with the way his eyes looked at me.

Julianna’s brows raise as she asks, “Really? What would your project entail?”

His reassurance seems to help me try to ground myself and focus on communicating this better, standing up a little straighter as I smile over to Julianna.

“I’m glad you asked.”

I take my phone out of my dress’ pocket and go through my Joogle Drive to open up the presentation deck I prepared, waiting for it to load.

“I call it Operation: Empawthy. It’s a training program for shelter animals to become therapy animals for local hospitals and community centers.” I explain as I hold my phone out for Jackson and Julianna to see. The little logo and everything I made popping up on screen, a little paw with the project title surrounding it in a circle.

“It’s been brought to my attention that... a lot of older animals that call the shelter home, and I was hoping of helping them find a purpose... beyond just waiting for adoption.”

Both Jackson and Julianna lean in to look at the presentation I made. I try to gauge their reactions. Jackson’s face seems to light up as I go through the initial slides.

Julianna seems to instantly smile, asking, “And you’d like to follow through with this? Long term?”

“Of course!” I smile at that question, excited about my plan of execution for this program. “Most of the operations and plan can be executed within the next few months.” I tap the screen and move onto my timeline slide.

I continue, “It could be executed I already have a nearby local oncology center and a social center who are willing to partner too, and well—” My brows furrow at the next thing I say, “even if I'm no longer a Selected, it's still possible to execute, even without mobilization from the Schreaves.”

Even if I did get eliminated, at least one good thing would come from me being a Selected.

Julianna moves to walk around her desk over to where I am, and I’m surprise to feel her wrap her arms around me in a meaningful hug. I glance over to Jackson while she does, catching an expression I couldn’t quite read.

“You’re the answer to so many of my questions on how to provide for these dogs.” Julianna leans back with her hands on my shoulders, smiling. “We’d be incredibly happy to have you with us.”

I smile back at Julianna, taking both of her hands in mine.

“I'll send you the primers and plans I currently have. I'm more than happy to help in every way I can!”

Julianna’s reaction seems to give me a whole new understanding for generosity and kindness. For the first time in a long time, I feel like I got to plan something meaningful and grounded in something beyond weddings or parties.

I wasn’t going to lie, it felt freaking good.

“You’ll have to thank Jackson too for bringing me all the way here though.” I turn to Jackson as I say that. I definitely wouldn’t have thought of this fully without remembering what he had said to me.

Julianna waves a hand, “Jackson has my eternal thanks. Bringing you here only goes to show his incredible judgement.”

Jackson looks down with a smile at Julianna’s compliment, before looking back up at Julianna with amusement.

“Kiss up.” He says.

She reaches out and gives Jackson a side hug across his shoulders. “And not ashamed of it.”

I don’t get why Merrick would ever call her scary.

I can’t help but laugh at the banter between them, tucking my hair behind both of my ears.

“Incredible judgment indeed!” I nod a couple of times, clasping my hands in front of me. “Thank you for letting me loop the shelter into this. I promise you both this project isn't gonna disappoint. That's a Duthé promise.”

“I have a feeling that’s a promise never broken.” Jackson says softly, his smile very soft.

Julianna seems to pause briefly at that, her smile not faltering.

“Once we receive all your information, I’ll keep close touch with you. Everyone will be so thrilled.”

I turn to Jackson, looking to him with an amused expression.

“You’re right, it’s never broken.” I punctuate that with a wink to him before I nod over to Julianna and quickly slip my calling card out of my phone’s card holder.

I always kept copies of it in case I met a potential wedding client but, it would work for now what with all my contact details on it. Let’s hope Julianna would just ignore all the wedding planner details on it.

“This is my card, I'll be probably contacting you through the email and number here. If there's anything I can do to help, just let me know. We'll definitely keep in touch.”

Julianna takes the card from me and sets it on her desk with a thank you, then mentions to us that she needed to get back to work and Jackson excuses us. He mentions that he’ll be back in the evening as we leave her office before Jackson leads me back into the hallway. I don’t forget to say a quick thank you before we leave.

“That was… wow.” He says once we’re outside of Julianna’s office. I try to eye Jackson’s reaction before I let myself smile and do a little happy dance, unable to control how happy I felt.

“OH MY GOSH!” my voice seems to go up another octave before I reach over and give Jackson a hug. “Thank you so so much for bringing me here and helping me make this happen!”

Jackson seems to laugh as he catches me, and I feel his hand going to my back.

“You were the one with the incredible ideas. It was wonderful, Missy.”

((Another thing I can’t write BUT I SCREECHED: */like you/* he thinks))

I pull away from him, still grinning but feeling a little shy with Jackson’s compliment. My face starts to feel warm again. I try to ignore it this time. I’m probably just too happy with getting the shelter as a partner.

“I’m so happy that you think so. I just thought—” My phone suddenly starts to ring, an alarm going off as I quickly reach into my pocket to snooze it.

5:30. Prepare for Dinner. I see on the screen.

Jackson still watches me as I handle it, “Everything alright?”

I stuff my phone back into my dress’ pocket and nodding, not letting the alarm dampen the mood.

“Yeah! I just... have alarms for whenever I probably should change or get ready for dinner at the palace.” I explain with a little laugh. “As I was saying, uh...” I’m trying to remember what I was going to say a few seconds ago, but I’ve completely lost my train of thought.

“Okay honestly, thank you for the moral support.” I decide to thank Jackson again for being there, then I lower my voice jokingly, “Julianna... kinda did scare me.”

Hmmm, maybe that’s why I was stumbling over my words initially.

Jackson chuckles at that, “She’s a bit intimidating at first, but there’s nothing to be afraid of. She loved you.” I laugh lightly and try to shrug it off.

Then he gestures to the phone in my pocket.

“I guess I should um, be getting you back now?”

I nod slowly, feeling a little sad that I was already leaving the shelter. I think I’ve enjoyed myself here way more than I expected.

“Are you sure it’s too much to ask from you?” I wanted to make sure that he was alright with it, knowing that he was going to come back here anyway. He’s already done so much for me already.

He tilts his head. “Driving you to the palace? No, of course not.” A growing smile appears on his face.

“I’d love to.”

His smile seems to put me at ease, so I loop my arm around his and smile to him.

“Then I guess we better get going, Mister Jackson Graham.”

Jackson doesn’t say anything, only keeping his smile to me and leading the way back.

#missy duthe #missy fics #((missy and jackson are just trying to outsimp each other ngl))#((THEY'RE SIMPS BUT WITH RIGHTS))#~jackson tag #selectionoc

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mayalevesque · 4 years

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{ sky ferreira ♔ twenty-four ♔ she/her } well, well, well if it isn’t maya levesque running around peach hollow. legend has it, they come from blueberry boulevard and have lived here for four years. if you’re wondering what they’ve been up to, i hear they’re a baker at get baked for a living. they have been known to be condescending yet charming. a word of advice to them, always look over your shoulder. you never know who is watching.

(hi!! i’m bella :) i haven’t participated in an rp for a hot minute so i am still kinda re-learning some things etc., but overall i am super excited! with that being said, maya is a fairly new muse for me. the last time i used to rp, i always played the easygoing, sweet character. maya, however, is not quite as easygoing or sweet, so she is very different for me! she’s a tough girl, but she is sensitive and has a big heart. there is nothing i want more than to plot with you! i am literally down for practically anything. anyway, here is her intro + some wanted connections. thank u for reading <3)

her birthday is september 10th, 1995

she grew up in santa cruz, california

maya’s parents were artists, but they were not at all successful. because of this, money was tight. her parents often “borrowed” money from other relatives

speaking of her parents, the two were both addicted to drugs and did not treat maya well to say the absolute least. in fact, they didn’t treat each other well either. they broke up at least a dozen times during her adolescence

in high school, maya struggled with her grades + did not participate in any extracurricular activities (although she enjoyed playing the guitar)

she never really had a close group of friends because she was scared of getting attached to anybody

she has never been in a **real** relationship either. she has slept with her fair share, but she never let herself get too close to any of them

she is a bisexual queen

if u have not noticed she kinda has a “trust no one” attitude lmao

she dropped out of high school with only six months left before graduation because she felt that school just wasn’t for her (she lowkey regrets it now but it’ll take a lot for her to admit to it because she stubborn as hell)

got her first job when she was fourteen, worked as a cashier at a touristy ice cream shop

she began working her second job at age eighteen. the work paid so well that she didn’t even need her first job anymore... she quit her second job only months after being hired, but she still added a shit ton of cash to her savings because of it

on a whim, maya used all of her savings to move far away from her toxic home to start all over. and here she is!!

maya thought that things would be different when she moved away, but they weren’t. she still had to deal with her trauma and her trust issues. to this day, it is still not an easy task to get close to maya

she puts up a somewhat mean front so people don’t try too hard to get to know her, but in reality she is very soft and caring<333

she has recently begun going to therapy because she knew that she couldn’t carry her burden any longer, and she knew that she needed help

works at get baked as a baker

wanted connections:

roommate(s): a few roommates sounds so fun!! it would make sense too bc maya spent most of her savings moving to peach hollow and it would be realistic for her to have to split the rent. angst + tension? or a best friendship waiting to happen? plus adding the roommates factor into it? genius. also im likely going to make a pinterest for maya too so a collaborative bedroom pinterest board >>>>>

friendships: maya doesn’t make friends easily, but after four years of living in peach hollow, she is bound to make a few! they may not know everything about her tho, but she may feel inclined enough to enlighten them someday

someone who pushes her to get her mf GED: self explanatory basically! this would be a rocky relationship bc maya would def tell them to mind their own business etc. but only because she doesn’t wanna accept the fact that she’s unhappy, and getting her GED could help her in the longrun (mercy)

lover(s) and/or ex fling(s): people she has slept with or maybe even got attached to/loved but is afraid to admit. could be ongoing or something that happened in the past! we love the angsty/crying gifs don’t we??

The One She Falls In Love With: lmaoo this can be reciprocated or unreciprocated. either one will bring so much tension and drama and goooodddd i love the drama so either way it would be a Dream. help her trust people! or break her heart! or both??? the possibilities are endless

ex-friends/frenemies: maya can piss people off easily so if u feel your character and maya’s don’t mesh well, may i recommend a frenemy plot? i luv those..im also a sucker for rekindling friendships and frenemies to bff tropes so its perfect

regular customers: this sounds p standard but here’s a Twist: it would be cool if maya could like..talk to a drunk/high customer and the two end up oversharing things about themselves and then it becomes a whole big Thing the next time the customer comes back sober ya know?? then from there the plot ideas are literally limitless period. idk its 3 am what im writing no longer makes sense so i will end this here lol

NOTE: u can dm me on discord to plot but i most likely will get back to you faster on tumblr messages. i do not mind either though, just letting yall know! :) thanks again for reading!! (also one last note + fair warning i SUCK at starters. wish me luck :*)

#tw drugs #peaches:intro #i hope this was long enough and/or not too long lMao #maya: intro

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lenjaminmacbuttons · 4 years

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Hope you’re doing okay, I know there’s been a lot going on the past couple weeks. 🌈🌈💛💛

FOOF YOU CAN SAY THAT AGAIN

thank you for the good vibes anon, i love you and it means a lot to me. however unfortunately now im gonna use this to vent dump exactly how much has been going on the past couple weeks off the top of my head. this is actually pretty far from Everything thats happen but im so tired and dont want to think about any of it anymore

my grandma passed away last week. we were prepared for it and we know she’s at peace in a better place et cetera et cetera, her body was all full of restraints & impediments that she doesnt have to deal with anymore and the next time she’s in a body it’ll be all New And Improved and awesome. i missed so much work in anticipation of this that now i can’t get work off on the day of the funeral, so i can still go to it but i’ll have to go immediately to work right from it and have to pretend everythings fine and dandy and nothings going on.

everyone at work Does know there’s something going on however and the two coworkers i have who are actually like i consider them friends mostly they’re all like Hey Im Here For You Talk About Your Feelings Honestly with me and i. dont. want. to talk about my feelings at work. thats not what work is for and i dont like talking about my feelings anyway and i dont want them to ask anymore

the changes to the handbook and the honor code have completely sunk my heart. i had so much hope up until those hideous ridiculous unfathomably transphobic things they wrote and now i don’t feel like i can trust or have hope in ANYTHING the institution does anymore. ive been up all night going back and forth over whether i want to go to church today. or ever again. it’s not bringing me joy. it’s making me feel anxious and depressed and frustrated and alone. i keep seeing people just on the street or on facebook who are so happy and content with the church and whatever it does and i just…i get struck every single time with this thought of “they don’t care about me. they don’t care about any of these problems. they’re not affected personally by it and so they don’t care.”

and then that makes me feel like such a hypocrite because!!! ive been them too for so long!! what makes this moment so different!!!!! why is this the straw that breaks the camel’s back when the camel should have thrown off the whole burden and run to join its friends at the first strike of the owner’s whip!!!!!!

plus it’s making me feel gross about my mormon memes blogs. idk if i can keep running those anymore.

im failing this semester anyway and i keep getting emails about it. i was planning to take a break from school After this semester but ive missed so much class that i just really can’t go back to any of them so i guess im just dropping out right now. as much as i’d love to participate in all the incredible amazing protests going on right now i really really cant be on campus at all without feeling literally physically ill. and my Hope was to do really well this last semester and then submit mission papers and that way i’d know exactly what next to do with my life until i decide what After, and id be able to Get Out somewhere and travel someplace while still feeling like my life has some semblance of structure and direction. however! HOWEVER!!!!!!!!

i’ve been feeling so, so horrible and so worn down and i dont even know where or what my testimony is anymore. but that’s probably a lot lower on the list of Why I Can’t Serve A Mission, because a. i still don’t trust my Local Bishop enough to talk to him about things The Handbook says to b. i am finding it harder and harder and harder to be perceived as female. i never really have dysphoria about my body or my presentation or anything but like, when people say Sister and Ma’am and Miss and Daughter and Hey Pretty Lady It’s Me Your Relief Society President it’s like…that’s not me. that feels gross. and i wear suits and ties to church, have done so for a while and never get any flak for it, and im gradually working up the nerve to maybe start introducing myself as lev or levi instead of lillie buuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuut. socially transitioning apparently is not allowed.

not to mention my temple recommend expired ages ago anyway. anxiety about bishops prevented me from ever going in for an interview to renew it. i haven’t visited the temple once since before graduating high school. but every time i see it or think about it i long for it so badly and it hurts so much.

and also like, i get that same kinda horrible regretful longing feeling whenever i hear violin music? because i played violin for a few years and then stopped but i still have the instrument because it was given to me by my grandmother. who played it herself until sickness wouldn’t let her anymore and she entrusted it to me and i Stopped Playing but then i hoped to pick it up enough to at least learn how to play her favorite song and aw wouldn’t that be so nice to play that for her on her violin except i never actually got around to printing out the sheet music or practicing At All. and now she’s gone.

and one of the last things she said to me was that she would love to hear my book since her eyesight was too gone to read it so i said i’d record it as soon as i got the right software/hardware to do that and then i never did that either. also i promised alla yalls that book would be Published Published coming up on four months ago now and i still haven’t done that

i took a pair of safety scissors to my forearms as mentioned in a previous post and surprise surprise, the lines have not healed still, it’s getting warmer outside and thus harder to wear long sleeves, and guess what! a while ago on a separate occasion i complained that i kinda wished my self harm scars looked more like the classic cutter lines and Now They Do!! And I Hate It!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! and a couple nights ago my little sister saw them and so i told her i got attacked by a spider-pawed bear and fortunately my brother Understands and backed me up like “dang what do they teach in schools these days i cant believe youve never heard of the spider-pawed bears that live in the mountains and are totally normal and real”

and steven universe is ending. that’s a thing.

and like….okay. not everything in my emotions right now is bad. some of it is just complicated. one coworker friend i have recently confessed that she’s had a crush on me for several months now. fortunately when she said this i was able to be honest and say that im not super eager for a relationship right now, im not ready in the slightest to settle down or anything, im still hung up on my high school crush and also dealing with issues from my last relationship, and she replied that’s all perfectly fine and she doesn’t have any expectations and she’s great being friends and we can take things at whatever pace is good

except i also now have a date with said high school crush loosely planned for tomorrow and i told this coworker friend about it and she admitted it’s making her a little jealous and then she said jealous is an ugly word and amended it to Insecure and i feel bad about that

but i also like. am really excited for this date. like it’s not really a for sure romantic capital-d Date and that’s fine, but i haven’t seen this friend irl for so long and ive been missing her so much over this past little while that we’ve been internet chatting and that ive been i guess officially falling back in love with her but i also like, i dont know what her deal is romantically right now i don’t want to presume anything but i really really really am itching to see her

work is stressful. it’s only gonna get more so as weather gets warmer. but we’re getting two new managers with loads of experience and glowing reviews next week. i have hope that they’ll makes things a little lighter.

and there’s also. good things. peridot took off her visor for the first time ever in canon and i saved like 50 different gifs of it to my computer cus it rocked my world. sonic has she-ra toys for the kids meals and i managed to snag a tiny inflatable version of the sword. i’m making cosplays of the tres horny boys from the adventure zone and they’re all very exciting and making things makes me very very happy. i’m finding joy in all the fanfictions i’m writing right now and in talking about dungeons & dragons with my brothers and friends. ducknerva is a very beautiful Good Ending version of marahope which makes me happy and taako is a super effective projection outlet. i bought cupcakes today and they were delicious. and when i think about those good things, when i think about any good thing no matter how small, everything else disappears.

whatever happens happens i guess.

she who lives will see.

#talkyllama #hey if anyone needs tags on posts like these please please let me know asap #i always forget that actual people see the things i post #i dont usually trigger tag cus i dont usually think i need to but if i do i will

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stfusilas · 4 years

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~INTRODUCTION~

the jingle of dog tags under dirty tees, cigarettes lingering on clothes long after smoking has ceased, unshaven facial hair prickling against skin, a bic lighter always on hand, wind howling between barren trees on a cold winter night, locked doors with lost keys.

‹ JACK O’CONNELL , HE/HIM, CIS MALE, BISEXUAL. › SILAS HENRY is the TWENTY-SIX year old from LOS ANGELES, CALIFORNIA. when a friend asked them what they thought of the manor they said, ❝ IF YOU THINK THIS HOUSE IS SCARY, YOU SHOULD TAKE A LOOK INSIDE MY HEAD ❞ they claim SECONDS APART is their favorite scary movie, and if they were to die in a horror film they would SACRIFICE HIMSELF FOR SOMEONE HE LOVES. their fears include COMMITMENT, INTIMACY, AND LOUD NOISES, and they don’t know we know, but…HE DESERTED HIS SQUADRON IN THE ARMY AND WAS DISHONORABLY DISCHARGED. hope they enjoy their stay. ‹ muse b from walkman ›

Sup yall! I’m PJ, twenty years old (January 17th and I’ll finally be fuuckin legal!), and I use he/him pronouns. I’m in the EST timezone, New York babeyy! I was in this group awhile ago and I’m totally fuckin pumped for it to be back! I’m pretty boring honestly, especially compared to my son Silas. So enough about me and now onto him:)

Trigger Warnings: drugs, alcohol, gun violence, murder, mental illness

Silas was born on March 14th with fetal alcohol syndrome to a single mother who could never get her life straight. She was intoxicated when he was conceived, throughout the pregnancy, and stayed that way for most of his life. She did the best she could to provide him with food and shelter but they ended up at food banks and shelters more than once.

He was a problem child which didn’t make it much easier on his mom. Fighting, not doing his school work, just causing a shit ton of mischief. He was ten the first time he got into his mom’s liquor cabinet (which was always full, despite their bare food cabinets) and eleven the first time he smoked weed. From there it turned into other drugs like acid and eventually cocaine. He wasn’t as bad as his mom but they were two fucked up peas in a pod. There are only a few drugs he can honestly say he’s never touched.

Besides getting constantly fucked up with substances, Silas had a habit for brawls and became infamous for being the kid who never seemed to lose even when he was against people larger than himself. He’d steal things, once the dumb fuck even took off with a car. Managed to get away by the skin of his teeth and never spoke about it again.

All this landed him in trouble with the law but as a teenager he was let off easily every time. The judges felt sorry for him and cut him some slack, then he’d do good for a bit but would always eventually end up screwing himself over again.

Despite being such an angry child, he managed to be decently funny. Made some friends because of his idiotic jokes and the pranks he used to pull. Stupid skits and other various things to show how stupid he is went on his Youtube channel and eventually his following grew a bit. Think the Janoskians with all of their challenges like the cinnamon challenge, the milk jug challenge, etc.

Once he hit eighteen, he managed to screw up one more time and was given two options. He could either go to prison or he could enlist in the Army. Prison was’t something he wanted to experience so signing up it was. Truthfully, he wasn’t sure that he’d be able to pass the psych exam but he did it, graduating from boot camp and eventually being sent overseas.

Silas saw and did a decent amount of shit while overseas. He killed his fair share of people and would deny it if someone asked, but he enjoyed his first few hits. At one point he had to kill a ten year old with a bomb and that really fucked with his head.

Eventually he developed depression and PTSD but he did his best to hide it. One day his squadron was ambushed and most of his friends were killed. Seeing all of them lying around on the ground, gone, was enough to tip the scales and he just ran, deserting the military. He managed to survive for about a month on his own before making his way back. They dishonorably discharged him (secret alert!) and now he’s back in the States, doing his best to pretend like none of it ever happened.

Silas tries to act normal but those closest to him can tell that he’s not. He’s posted a vlog since returning but it’s evident that he isn’t the same kid as he was when he left. He has nightmares almost every night and the flashbacks are pretty bad too. Most nights he doesn’t even sleep, too afraid to go back to the war.

Silas has a huge fear of commitment. Whether it be to another person, his squadron, or just placing a goddamn sticker somewhere, he’s afraid of it. He’s fairly nomadic and he knows it, besides his two besties. There’s something about being tied down that gets him on edge. He doesn’t like to feel trapped, and that’s exactly what the military did to him.

He’s also terrified of intimacy. not as in sex, but as in getting extremely close to someone. He’s afraid of opening up to people and letting them see his real emotions. Not even his friends always know what he’s thinking, especially when it comes to his feelings about his tours. The only way people find out about his night terrors are if they witness him having them, but he tries to avoid that as much as he can by not sleeping around others.

As much as he hates to admit it, Silas does not like loud noises. Music is fine, but just the slamming of a door or someone else yelling is enough to send a chill down his spine. Fireworks and gunshots are the worst, and even thunderstorms can cause him to panic. When this happens, it’s easy to notice, if you actually pay attention to him. He completely stiffens up and his eyes widen, his hair stands on end and if it’s really bad, he gets cold sweats.

He’s there with his two best friends, Muse A and C from his subplot, Walkman. They booked them the stay as a celebration for his return since he’s been obsessed with the manor for years. He’s actually super excited to finally get to stay inside a room there, especially with the two people he trusts most on this Earth.

Wanted Connections:

Maybe someone who also knew him in high school? The old, angry, stupid Silas.

An ex? He’s never been one for commitment so he probably fucked that up somehow.

An enemy! He’s probably got more enemies than most.

Someone who watches his Youtube videos?

A crush or something? Mutual or one sided for either, but I’d like to fuck him up a bit

Okay that got mad long so I think that’s all for now folks! I’m very much down for ALL of the plots so feel free to hit me up or just give this a like and I’ll slide into your DMs;) If you’d rather talk on discord you can find me @ pjnfluff#3272

#manor.talk #{ + introduction }#{ + nightmare material }#i added shit about his fears womp

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ofchlve-blog · 5 years

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hiii everyone ! i’m lily, i’m nineteen years young, living in the est timezone, and my preferred pronouns are she/her ! i love everything about harry styles, trash reality tv, and my miniature dachshund :~) as a srat queen, i was so excited about this rp and now that i’ve been accepted i can’t wait to rp with yall ! below is information on my baby, chloe crawford ! if you’re interested in plotting, you can hit me up through tumblr ims or on discord @𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐩𝐢𝐝 𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐜𝐡 𝐧𝐨. 𝟏#5964 !!

⋆ ╰ another year at hollingsworth , another year of the big six rivalry . i hear that CHLOE CRAWFORD is ensuring KAPPA KAPPA DELTA gets a solid pledge class and stays at the top of the ranks . oh , you’re not familiar with HER ? CC is the SCARLETT LEITHOLD look alike from CHARLESTON , SOUTH CAROLINA . apart of PC ‘16 , she is majoring in DRAMA/THEATER and has plans to STAR IN HER FIRST MOVIE after undergrad . it makes sense they pledged their house , their CHARISMATIC & ROMANTIC attributes make them perfect matches . however , their FLIGHTY & SACCHARINE attributes keep their name alive on greek rank . if you don’t catch them dancing to POST MALONE - SAM FELDT at a fraternity band party this year , you’ll be sure to catch them nursing their morning hangover at THE KAPPA HOUSE . cheers to another wild semester !

ok i wanted this to be short but i LOVE intros so no promises >:)

chloe harper crawford was born on july 23, 1998 in charleston, south carolina. she is a cancer-leo cusp. her mother is savannah crawford nee harper, an ex-pageant queen, and her father is andrew crawford, of the charleston crawfords.

the crawfords are a veeeery old-money charleston family, and chloe’s father was one of their most successful outputs, running the family business perfectly. chloe and her younger brother braden (born three years after, and the heir presumptive to the crawford throne) were the crown jewel of their picture-perfect family.

chloe’s mother started training the girl the day she was born to follow in her footsteps as a future miss south carolina. despite having the perfect blonde curls and the big blue eyes, the pageant lifestyle didn’t come easily to chloe - she didn’t have the edge, that certain bite needed to slice someone open with a razor-sharp smile.

however, in this training chloe realized that she truly loved the stage, the spotlight, the adoration of the crowd. it didn’t take her long to channel that energy into acting.

though chloe struggled in school, acting made her feel at home. it gave her an outlet, a place to shine, unlike the classroom where she felt awkward and slow. as she grew, she learned to channel the confidence acting gave her into her social life, and suddenly she was the center of attention. being a pretty, rich blonde didn’t hurt either.

as chloe approached college age, it was practically a given that she would go to hollingsworth, rush kkd like her mother, major in something safe like communications or pr, marry a good southern boy, and return to charleston to continue the family legacy. however, she went against the wishes of her family and instead applied to nine different schools, all for their drama programs. she got into all nine, but ultimately decided to go to hollingsworth anyway.

hollingsworth proved to be a place chloe could thrive, that provided her with tons of opportunities. one such opportunity was a short film, written and directed by a semi-famous hollingsworth alum. chloe auditioned and got the lead role, filming over the summer before junior year.

she thought it would be nothing, just a bit of experience for her resume after she finished college and started the hard stuff. but when the film was shown at the new york film festival, it got surprise rave reviews and a lot of attention. suddenly, chloe was a hot commodity, and she’s had offers from major film studios, including a signed contract for a role she’s supposed to play just after she graduates from hollingsworth.

just as chloe’s fortunes were going up, however, her family’s were going down. the summer before her senior year at hollingsworth, the family business was exposed as having corrupt practices, and is on the verge of shutting down. though chloe’s father claims he knows nothing about it, he’s being investigated for fraud.

she’s very VERY nervous about interviewing, press appearances, and the general business of being a rising star. although she acts like a social butterfly and is a very charming girl, it doesn’t necessarily come easy to her. deep down, she still feels like the awkward kid in class, who doesn’t quite fit in or get it, no matter how hard she tries.

despite her high social standing due to being in kkd, she’s one of the sweetest girls you’ll ever meet. she definitely doesn’t subscribe to the idea that kappa girls are better than anyone else -- unless you cross her, she would never hurt a fly and in fact goes out of her way to be nice to people. she truly believes in the idea that everyone’s fighting their own battle and you don’t need to make it any harder for them.

despite that, if you do cross her, and do something major, the claws can come out. she’s not afraid to stand up for herself although she tends to wait a little longer than she should to speak out.

she’s a hopeless romantic and falls in love so fast. she loves being in love just as much as she loves the person she’s with. mostly, she loves being in a relationship and she gives her heart and soul to the person completely.

she’s not the brightest but she is truly kind and sweet.

she’s probably super involved in kkd! she lives at the house and like... probably is that girl who wears her letters everywhere and constantly talks about formals and frat boys. idk whether there’s like ‘positions’ in the rp but i could def see her as recruitment chair or social chair!

chloe is HEAVILY inspired by serena van der woodsen, cher horowitz, elle woods, and bianca from 10 things i hate about you !! she’s a bubbly blonde who has this magnetic appeal you just can’t say no to.

some wanted plots i have for her:

ok so i really want a squad !! like her best friends, ride or die, would do anything for each other ! they could be from any srat or frat, idc !

in the same vein... ex friends / enemies ! honestly chlo prob doesn’t have a lot of these bc she’s too much of a pushover to actually stop being friends w someone but like... maybe something big happened ? let’s plot it out !

party buddies / go-to formal dates ! just some people she really vibes with but maybe aren’t on the level of bffs

crush ! someone little hopeless romantic baby chlo has her eye on :~)

friends to lovers ! i am a SUCKER for this and would love it for chlo. give me a best friend who knows all her secrets and they end up... ~in luv~ ! bonus points if they’re both crushing and don’t know it

secret hookup ! is it an opposites attract thing ? do they just not want anyone to know ? PLS bring me this it would be so fun

(ex) - friends with benefits ! could be either current or a past connection, but would def be fun to work with !

exes - good terms or bad terms ! i love some fun romantic drama and this could def provide that !

co-stars ! ok so i posted THIS but like... imagine how GOOD this wld be... playing love interests but in real life they hate each other or have a crush or something jdfhksjdhf

#this is.... so long and so late #im SORRY #pls love me #rank:intro

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stfusid-blog1 · 5 years

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— ❝ wait is that DACRE MONTGOMERY ? or is that SIDNEY “SID” CHAMBERS who arrived in las vegas ONE month ago? HE is a TWENTY FOUR year old. last time i checked they were a BOUNCER @ THE DOLLHOUSE. rumour has it they’re very RESOURCEFUL and very RECKLESS. the CISMALE reminds me of HELL’S BELLS by AC/DC.

Sup, yall? I’m PJ, a 20 year old hooligan from New York who uses he/him pronouns. I work pretty much full time at the moment between an aquarium and an airport but I’m usually home by 6/6:30 every night. Anyway, enough about me! Here’s Sid, a real bitch of a dude.

TW: Alcohol, Drugs, Death

Sid was born to junkie parents who really couldn’t care about much besides chasing their next high. He lived in a trailer park for his first decade of life and then, after both of his parents ended up dead, he was sent to live with his great aunt.

Aunt Gertie could barely take care of herself, let alone raise a 10 year old with behavioral issues. Still, she tried her best. He always had clean clothes, there was food in the cabinets, whatever toys he wanted would be in his room the next day. But it still wasn’t enough.

He was smart, all of his teachers knew it, but he would act out in class which would often land him in detention. Somehow though, his grades were still fine. Good enough that he was able to graduate high school early, despite coming in drunk or high almost every day.

After graduating at 17, he realized that he had absolutely zero life plans. Honestly, he was kinda surprised that he was still kicking. But college definitely wasn’t the path for him so he became a welding apprentice.

He was 18 when he started dating Teddy Green. If asked, he would say that he liked her, and he really did. But then she dropped the bomb that she was pregnant and that was that, Sid was gone. Kids were never on his radar and he was fairly certain they never would be. Sometimes he feels bad about it, but then he remembers his own parents and is reminded that he’d probably never make the cut to be a good father.

When Aunt Gertie passed away, Sid decided that there was nothing left in his little town, so he packed his car and headed to Las Vegas. He arrived a month ago and had been working odd jobs but after a plumbing incident gone wrong, he started looking for an actual job. That’s when he found The Dollhouse, where he’s been working as a bouncer for approximately three days.

Sid has... a temper. He will fight ANYONE without a second thought. He doesn’t take shit from anybody, which isn’t a bad way to be when you’re working as a bouncer.

He’s pretty reckless and doesn’t really think about consequences before he does something. If it pops into his head, there’s a 99.9% chance that he will either say or do whats on his mind. It doesn’t always work out in his favor, much like his temper.

Some wanted connections!

Maybe a coworker? Someone who works at the Dollhouse

A childhood friend? Maybe someone who has also made their way to Vegas?

A long lost family member? He thinks that his family is all dead.

Literally ANYTHING! I want all the plots~

I realize that this is a disaster post but I just wanted to get it all out there. I’m positive that I’ll be adding an about page soon and then I’ll put some more details into his biography. Until then, feel free to like this if you want me to sliiidee into those dms or add me on discord! @pjnfluff#3272

#eightyintro #h e l lo new pals #{ + out of cigs }#tw drugs #tw alcohol #tw death

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stcllac · 5 years

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muse intros part 2 yee yee

yejun roh

he’s basically just another one of my jin fcs so idk what to tell u fam

he has a pretty basic upbringing tbh ??? his parents are chill and work decent jobs and they were always fairly middle class ?? they didn’t stand out too much

they also come from gardeniaville aka where briar’s from so he grew up knowing her

except yejun made himself stand out bc he’s fuckin yejun and needs to be Stopped at all times

he knew from a young age that he was adorable and handsome and it kinda inflated his ego a bit and sure some people hated him for it but most people found it funny bc he wasn’t a dick about it he just made jokes and shit

he found himself doing some part time modelling when he was in high school, and he definitely enjoyed it and would have gone down just that route had it not been for an incident during his third modelling gig

basically he saw the outfit and was just “ooooh it’s pretty !! though i would’ve done this.....and this and this..........

the designer wasn’t offended tho and was just “you have a good eye boi maybe you should be a designer yourself

and the clouds parted and the light rained down and suddenly yejun knew exactly what he wanted to do in life

it actually wasn’t long before he rose to fame as both a designer and a model bc his confidence in his own abilities as well as his general appearance was through the roof sO

he now owns a brand simply named roh yejun, or rojun for short

he’s willing to work with just about anyone tho some people tend to avoid him bc he’s dramatic af which is valid tbh

like this is the guy who will make himself the star of his own fashion show and ensure that rose petals are falling down around him as he struts it down the runway i s2g

he has definitely shouted “THIS IS A GAY’S ONLY EVENT GO HOME” more than once

he knows that magic and all that jazz exists, but he believes that there’s always a science behind it, so he’s a certain brand of sceptic, like he needs to see it to believe it

potential connections & stuff !!

he’s probably worked with anyone famous sO mostly stuff with that tbh

portia galexia

alien princess !!

she’s from the planet lucaura which is a very magical planet that has a very strong connection with the stars and the various constellations in whatever galaxy they happen to be in

lucaura’s magic is very strong and a single (though well practiced) spell by the king or queen can send the entire planet into another galaxy, which is something they tend to do if their current position is threatened

this is how they ended up near earth, as the argenti had attempted to invade them and the royal family were having none of that, and so they spelled the planet to wherever the magic would take them, and thus they ended up close to earth. this was just over a year before the argenti stumbled upon earth themselves

the lucaurans are peaceful and diplomatic people, and so they sent their daughter portia down as a mediator in negotiations

they didn’t really have to try hard as earth as we know it has some strange and magical people, and so it wasn’t hard for her to be accepted, and portia was able to strike a deal where lucaura would protect earth in the case of danger and vice versa

portia is a very generous and kind individual, but can also be optimistically stubborn. if she thinks something can be fixed by her hand, she’ll make sure she does just that as soon as possible, and she can have a one track mind at times

she actually really likes it on earth and spends a lot of her time there. she initially lived near the space port downtown, but that became an infected zone pretty quickly, and so she lives in a skyscraper right by it

her parents made the decision to not tell the earthlings about their history with the argenti, a decision portia didn’t really agree with, but she trusts her judgement and instead focuses on ensuring the safety of the earthlings and the lucaurans

ever since she was young, she’s focused a lot on her magic, and so she has very strong powers that she gathers from the stars. they’re stronger at night for obvious reasons

her magic can be pretty op in terms of what she CAN do but there are definitely things that are generally forbidden in lucauran law, such as resurrection, murder, summoning the dead in any capacity, basically anything that is considered disrespectful is a big ‘no-no’

they don’t count killing argenti monsters as murder tho so go wild i guess

possible connections & stuff !!

if you’re a leader or hero of some kind, she’s probably at least met you once since she’s always trying to help and make connections

her attendant aka the sort of ?? official ?? who came down w/ her to earth bc those are the Rules yeet skeet

levi royce

an orphan boi

levi has absolutely no idea where he came from or who his real parents are or even what his birthday is but he’s roughly 18 so ??

he was left on the front steps of anna’s home when he was a wee bab and there was nothing to tie him to who tf he was so he didn’t have a name or birth certificate or aNYTHING

his name was given to him by one of the people who work there, and he was sORT OF adopted at that moment ?? but he lived in the orphanage bc his adoptive mother lived in the orphanage, and even then it was just this agreement that this child was the orphanage baby and he was everyone’s son

levi didn’t really question it until he was quite a bit older, about eight or nine, and they pretty much told him the truth bc he was pretty mature for his age and could take it

while he didn’t show it, it actually really affected him bc at least some of the other kids had a vague idea of where they’d come from, but not him apparently, he was a mystery

he refused to reveal how he felt to anyone tho bc he’d already made a name for himself as being the big brother to everyone in the orphanage, the one all the kids could rely on to be there with advice or a bedtime story, and he didn’t want to show weakness in front of them

while he’s a relatively calm person he goes into angry protective mode when the orphanage or the residents of it are threatened like he’s not playing he has a sword and he wILL use it

the day the argenti came, he’d had a really bad feeling, especially when the clouds starting coming in, and so he’d told the other kids to stay inside. sure enough, then came the argenti

he wasn’t able to save all of the kids tho as one of them went missing and he has no idea where they are, but he once again refuses to show his worry

he’s the type of guy who’s really soft around those he considers his family but can seem kinda distant to strangers, but that’s because he can be a bit distrustful at first

he absolutely sings the kids to sleep he has a heavenly voice

but he’s also kind of a dumbfuck with no sense of self preservation sometimes as well as being completely and utterly oblivious like jfc

possible connections & stuff !!

gimme more orphans like it doesn’t matter if they’re older or younger he’ll look after all of them ok

micah gilligan

speaking of dumbasses

micah is basically the epitome of a dumb teen he’s just ?? niCER THAN MOST I GUESS ??

he was (and still is tbh) the neighbourhood kid who would try stupid stunts and break his arms every month or so without giving a fuck like i s2g he’s immune to the pain to this point why is he like this

he lives in the cul-de-sac w/ the other kids there and grew up there from the time he was a wee bab so he ofc knows remy and thinks of him as his older brother of sorts

he’s super friendly and gets along with most people even tho he’s, as we’ve established, dUMB

his parents are just waiting until he graduates and he goes off to college

when the argenti first made themselves known he was just “WHAT” like everyone else, but after that, he was determined to get in contact with them

he didn’t meet an argenti, per say, but he met one of the monsters the argenti had made from a few nearby bushes. needless to say, it didn’t end all that well for him, and he had to be treated for burns, but at least he wasn’t dead

that hasn’t deterred him, though, and he’s determined to be of sOME use in the fight, and so he lets fighters come into his home while his parents are out and makes sure they’re fed and well-cared for, even lets them sleep upstairs if they need it

once he gets one of siwoo’s weapons in his hands he’s gonna be unstoppable tbh he’s gonna gO FOR IT

honestly it’ll be a miracle if he doesn’t end up killed

despite all of this, once he does figure out that someone is upset for whatever reason, he ensures that he pays attention to them and gives them whatever they need if he’s able to and is just there for them in general

too bad he’s an oblivious little shit half the time

possible connections & stuff !!

hi i need more cul-de-sac crew kids asap i want them All

any fighter around the suburbs that he could’ve helped !! he’s pretty friendly with all the people who have set up camp in their little enclosed area so !!

paige park

yall know my girl it’s been a while

she works for the agency that doesn’t have a proper name bc they’re that secretive that they’re just “the agency”

her parents were both agents who met while working there and badabing badaboom paige is conceived

paige’s father didn’t agree with the experiments the agency was doing in the science department, the ones where they were attempting to combine human dna with animal dna to make shapeshifting hybrids, and so he called them out on their bullshit and booked it once he was labelled as a traitor

what happened to him afterwards is officially unknown by most, but many speculate that he was assassinated

as a big ‘fuck you�� to the guy who tried to ruin their precious experiments, the agency decided that they would make test subjects out of paige’s mother and paige herself after she was born

the experiment on her mother, the one that was conducted barely a day after paige was born, was almost a success, but there were several factors that caused the project to fail, notably the fact that her mother was still recovering from giving birth and that the animal dna wasn’t large enough in quantity to overpower her genetics. she died on the operating table

paige ended up being part of an experiment along with a bunch of other infants, and it’s only then that the experiment was a success and the scientists realised that they would need to inject the dna and ensure its spread during the first few years of life, around a few weeks to five years old, though ideally around the three year mark

and thus, paige the platypus was created

she’s a stellar agent and is considered one of the best in the field, though this often means her workload is tough

most of her jobs prior to the invasion kept her close to the agency downtown, and while she’s still in the downtown area now, she has to stretch herself pretty thin sometimes

since she has platypus dna she can turn into a platypus, though the only ability she retains in her human form is electroreception, which basically means she can sense shit underwater

she’s sorta known as a big sister among the other animal agents bc of her personality, she’s very much the mum friend

she has no idea what happened to her parents and is pretty obedient when it comes to the agency

possible connections & stuff !!

i’ll always love me some more animal agents

even tho she’s focused on the argenti that doesn’t mean she can’t see other criminals in action, she’s more the tailing type tho sO she might stalk some shady people just :eyes emoji:

margaret corrs

she’s trying her best

maggie’s always been the responsible one out of her and her sister and that’s been the case since they were little

what she diDN’T expect was that she would end up becoming her sister’s legal guardian when their parents went missing under suspicious circumstances

her parents both worked for a well off family and her mother was a secretary and her father was a driver so they’re pretty much invisible workers ?? not that they’re unappreciated or anything it’s just that people tend to have conversations in front of them as if they aren’t there

aNYWAY one day they went to work but ended up not coming home which was of course sUPER concerning and so she went to the police to file the missing person’s report

long story short, she was to look after violet while the police did their investigation, but for a year and a half it was a constant string of no-shows and dead leads and shoddy police work and maggie was growing tired of it

she was already studying journalism so it wasn’t hard for her to become interested in investigative journalism and she used the skills she learned to start looking for hERSELF why her parents disappeared

the argenti attacked before she could get very far tho

and now that vi has gone missing she’s looking for her too and she’s stressed and feels terrible bc her entire family is gone why couldn’t i help them

she isn’t doing anything sUPER crazy yet, just looking around and asking questions, but the more time spent without any word from any of her family members the more determined she’s gonna be

she has literally nO time for the argenti fam she has a family to find and those dumbass aliens aren’t gonna stop her

she’s a pretty no-nonsense person and the mama bear will come out if you even tHINK of hurting anyone close to her i dare u

she can defend herself aDEQUATELY but not amazingly

potential connections & stuff !!

tbh she’s probably questioned anyone and everyone so !! anYONE TBH

castanea primus

succubus babie

except she’s not really a babie she’s just a Brat

after what happened to her parents back in the underland, castanea has always held a deep grudge against demons despite being one. as far as she’s concerned the only other demon she can trust is her older brother and everyone else can perish

that’s a major reason as to why when her brother moved away from the underland she was just “tAKE ME WITH YOU”, she really wanted out of there

some of her generalisations towards other demons have changed the way she sees herself, and so she doesn’t see herself as a good person in any capacity, so she doesn’t really try

upstanding citizen ?? what’s that ??

she’s not going around and doing crimes, but she just doesn’t care. she doesn’t care about school or how she’s going to get far in life. who needs to do that when you have the ability to charm someone into doing whatever you want them to ???

the daytime hours are when she acts the most human, going to school (most of the time) and spending most of her time with surface dwellers. her night time hours are usually spent at the club her brother works at, pestering him and anyone else who might come her way

tbh she can’t wait to be a hoe but only bc she wants to get stuff out of it

the argenti is something she tends to ignore for the most part, as in her opinion, her life on earth would likely just be cut short in some other way if they weren’t around, so why bother ??

very flippant about death as you can see, doesn’t really care if she lives or dies, but she isn’t about to tell anyone else that

she’s considered the ‘cool beauty’ type at school. beautiful, but hard for people to approach. she probably has a group of good friends but it’s unlikely that they know she’s a succubus

talks back to teachers with the most deadpan expression and calm voice

refuses to get Attached™

possible connections & stuff !!

fellow students !! her school friends !! even just people around the downtown area who know her !!

anyone she can get attached to, bc getting attached fUCKS HER UP

#( intros )#i'll do 7 here and 7 in another post #just to balance that shit out yeet

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wtfmel-blog · 5 years

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★ ━ ( madelaine petsch, female, she/her ) ━ ★ the other day i ran into MELODY BURKLEY. it’s funny because i was just thinking about how the TWENTY-THREE YEAR OLD’s birthday was on JULY 14TH and how the last time i sawher, MEL was EXCITED, SMART & LOYAL, but could also be IMPATIENT,OVERPROTECTIVE, & THIN SKINNED. anyway, she has been living inBEAVERTON & ALOHA for A MONTH & currently works as a NEWS ANCHOR.

hello!!! i’m so happy o be here!! this is melody and i’m emily. im gonna give all the info for mel i can right now! it’s a little sad, but she’s happy w who she is. !

she’s 23

she’s mav’s older sister.

a little backstory. !

she was that BITCH in hs. no one could tell her anything. the boys loved her, girls loved her, everyone loved her.

she wasn’t the type to hoe around, but if she wanted you, she had you.

she never split up relationships, just waited until they were over.

she is n o t shy

she graduated valedictorian of her class and gave a hella entertaining speech. she’s super smart

she was a football cheerleader and captain of the basketball team.

when it came to college, she kept playing basketball. she got scouted and went on full scholarship for bball.

she went into communications, she’s always kinda liked the idea of news broadcasting

during her junior year, she was in a car accident that shattered her kneecap and hip and some bones in between. it ultimately stopped her from playing and she’s graduated w an honorary mvp, bc she really was.

after college, she got a job as a news broadcaster and she LOVES it

when it comes to love, she met a boy her sophomore year of college, she ditched her high school ways for the most part. he was a year older, was a basketball player, a whole package, and she wanted him

so bad that she did everything she could to be around him

when they finally started seeing each other, she was smitten and so was he. they were soulmates probably.

when she got hurt, he stood by her side and helped her through it, and was there to teach her to walk again and everything.

they got engaged after she graduated and were really close starting to finalize everything for the wedding when she found out he had been sleeping w her maid of honor.

she wanted to make it work because she really loved him, but every time she saw him or her she felt sick. they stayed together for a month before calling it all off. like in the month she’s lived ther!

im gonna say things ended recently bc sad drama

she lives alone rn in a SMALL two room apartment . and she’s been so attached to a person she gets real lonely sometimes

she’s finding her place again really. aint no strings to hold her down at this point

she’s still on the news every morning and night, she loves it. she had a phat rock of an engagement ring when she first started, and now she doesn’t wear it, so comments are a little wild about ‘yo im tryin to smash melody can yall help me out’ and stuff which she finds funny.

she’s just trying to have fun and be happy

Also she’s only lived here for a month to be closer to her bro and away from her ex man

here’s some plots!!

a best friend - obv someone that wasnt her maid of honor. probaly someone she met when moving to portbay. can be male or female but prefer female on this one whoops

a potential next roommate?? she might live small, but there is an extra room and she’s not tryin to be too lonely

a guy thats known her for a while even when she was engaged that was always like ‘i’ll be here to pick up the pieces when it goes wrong ;)’ and like now it crumbled he’s just like awkwardly rubbing her back like ‘i mean im here ??’ but its cute

if theres anyone that works w the news company ??? a coworker would be ncie A COHOST WOW

a neighbor who probably hears her crying and just comes over to help her feel better lol

im trying to think of some more stuff

she’s pretty flexible as a person so im open to just about anything!!

#portbayintro #please feel free to hmu or like to plot!!

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valcain · 6 years

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reunion // rent

so i’m posting this with to basically test the waters, this is the first ever mark/roger fic i’ve written and i reallly want to know what people think re: characterisation, how i write them, whether its good or bad and why...im just looking for constructive criticism here. so have at it and i hope yall enjoy

Mark straightens the tie again. Stares into the mirror. 'Are you sure it's not crooked?'

Roger rolls his eyes. 'I'm sure.' His fingers are at Mark's neck again for a moment, smoothing the material down, then he steps away. 'It's fine.' 'Right.' Mark watches as Roger turns his attention back to his own tie, folding it with surprising ease. 'How did I let you talk me into this again?' 'Look, we only have to stay half an hour, tops. Open bar, horse divorce -' 'I wish Collins had never -' 'And then we can go home and you can never see these people ever again.' 'See that's what I thought when I graduated. You remember graduation? That ceremony where you stand in front of everyone and smile real wide because you know you're never going to have to see those fucks ever again?' 'I remember.' Roger tugs his jacket a little, flattening out some crease or other. 'I got high with Mike behind the school before the ceremony.' 'I almost tripped on the top step.' 'Almost.' Roger claps him on the shoulder. 'But didn't.' 'What is that, a proverb?' 'Probably. You ready to go?' Mark rubs his hand over the back of his neck. 'Yeah.' 'Alright.' Roger steps a little closer; kisses his cheek. 'You know, if you really don't want to, we don't have to. I just-' 'Yeah, I know.' It’s weird being on the receiving end of this. But if Mark going to his high school reunion is at all similar to Roger leaving the apartment, that means his attendance is probably going to be a good thing in the long run. He hadn't expected Roger of all people to be the one to push him into this - but here they are. Suited up and raring to go. 'Alright. C'mon.' + They hold the reunion in the biggest hall his school has to offer, the assembly hall, and as soon as he sets foot inside it all Mark can think about is that feeling he used to get after lunch, when he was filing in for the twenty minutes of bullshit they'd feed him about school spirit and community and whatever assemblies were about. Now Roger is at his side, his knuckles brushing against Mark's every so often in that way that seems accidental but isn't. Reassuring him. Mark catches his hand, twists their pinkies together and then releases it. He makes his way down the stairs to the front of the room where already several old classmates have gathered. His only high school girlfriend for example - changed and unchanged as these things always go - all those kids he lived his whole life with and then promptly abandoned with glee as soon as he could. Thank God I don't live here anymore. He glances at Roger, and repeats the sentiment again. Thank god. For so many reasons. 'Mark?' Roger is already smirking, Mark turns around, trying not to grimace. 'Alicia, hey.' 'Wow!' she hugs him - something he was not expecting - and pulls back, smiling. 'It's been so long! I can't believe it, you look so... so... grown up!' He smiles a little at that. Alicia hadn't been too bad, they had media together and she always had spare pencils. Now she looks pretty content, if weary. 'How've you been?' Mark asks. He knows the drill. 'Yeah, good! Let's see... when was the last time I saw you?' Graduation, Mark thinks. 'I can't remember,' he says, and Alicia nods. 'Me neither. Must have been a while ago, huh! Well to summarize, studying medicine and married three years ago!' She pulls out her wallet, shows him a smiling baby. 'Dylan. Seven months. So, how about you? And who's -' she turns to Roger for the first time, still smiling. 'God, I'm sorry, so rude! I didn't introduce myself or anything - I'm Alicia. Mark and I used to have media together.' 'Hey.' Roger shakes her hand, looking for the first time as though it's occurred to him why people hate these things. And it's only Alicia. It's all downhill from here. Mark raises his eyebrows at Roger, who ignores him, which means Mark is right. 'I'm Roger.' 'Roger! Nice to meet you.' Alicia looks between the two of them, smiling - but it's a little - 'So how do you two know each other?' 'We're roommates,' Mark says. He and Roger had agreed before that going any further in depth than that might be too much for Scarsdale to handle, and they weren't here to start a Pride Parade. It was still a bit of a bummer seeing Alicia relax, just a fraction. He could imagine her wiping her brow like, phew, they're not gay! Fuck that. He takes Roger's hand and tries not to notice the amused expression his boyfriend is giving him. Alicia clears her throat. 'Well, great seeing you, Mark!' She leaves. Mark drops Roger's hand and turns to face him. 'Couldn't even last one, huh?' 'Shut up.' Roger snickers. 'C'mon. Let's get wasted.' They make their way to the bar where Mark crosses paths with Eric, a kid he used to be pretty close with for a while, and who is now working in finances apparently. 'How about you?' Eric asks, 'what are you doing?' 'Making films,' Mark replies, steeling himself for what comes next. The real reason Roger wanted him to come today. 'Oh? Anything I'd have seen?' Mark shrugs. 'Today 4 you?' he says as calmly as possible, and then watches as Eric puts the dots together. 'Wow - that was your film?' 'Yep.' 'That won something didn't it? At the -' 'Yeah.' 'Wow. Wow! Congratulations!' 'Thank you.' Eric is smiling now, he claps Mark on the shoulder. 'All that filming paid off, huh?' 'Guess so.' God, Mark wants to leave. He gives himself twenty more seconds nodding and half-smiling at Eric's praise before excusing both him and Roger, and moving into a more private corner. 'Well?' he says when they're alone. 'Can we go now?' Roger huffs. 'Really? He was impressed, Mark. Seriously. What do you have against people complimenting your work? Your work, I might add, you slaved over for almost two years? You deserve a bit of praise.' 'The money from the festival was all the praise I needed.' 'Sure, Cohen.' 'How long have we been here?' 'Fifteen minutes.' Mark sighs. 'Alright. Fifteen more minutes. Then we're leaving.' 'Deal.' Roger grabs Mark's tie and tugs him closer. 'You are so hard to be nice to.' 'I try.' They end up talking to three more people; a girl called Xantya, and two guys Michael and Alexander. He didn't know Xantya or Alexander well, but he and Michael used to get paired together a lot, their last names next to each other on the roll, so for a while they were known around school as 'Mike and Mark.' Michael seems genuinely impressed by the film's reward, going so far as to explain he'd lost a friend to AIDS a few years ago, and that it was great to see similar stories on the big screen. 'I think it's really important,' he says, and Mark leaves that conversation with his cheeks flushed, more pleased than he thought he'd be from the praise. Roger, having succeeded in his goal, is perfectly happy to be dragged from the school back to their car. He doesn't say anything until they're back home, and then before he can get it out Mark turns to him and claps a hand across his mouth. 'Yeah, you smug bastard, it was nice.' Roger grins against his palm, then licks it, and Mark jerks his hand back. 'Asshole.' 'Best boyfriend ever.' 'You're such a dick.' 'Aw, babe.' Mark pins against Roger against the counter, bracing his hands on either side of Roger's hips. He sighs. 'Thank you.' 'You're welcome.' 'Now.' Mark leans a little closer, bringing his lips close enough to brush Rogers, and grins. 'Now.' 'You promised me something.' 'I did?' 'You did.' 'Hm.' Roger does his best to look confused while not taking his eyes off Mark's mouth. 'Doesn't sound like me.' 'You're right it doesn't.' 'I-' 'Roger.' Mark presses forward a little bit and Roger's breath hitches. 'Shut up.'

#marker rent #mark x roger #rent #rent musical #roger x mark #idfk what to tag this #idfk what this Is #im putting it on ao3 too so. cool

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spellcastersjudgement · 6 years

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faithshipping #1!!!!!! :)

a 5ds ask??? in my inbox??? what a good time to dump all of my headcanons for these two on yall i hope we are all ready for my first foray into the world of card games on motorcycles

#1: a kiss good morning

Yusei would maintain to his dying breath that time was not real and no one could ever make him sleep unless he deemed it absolutely necessary, that he’d earned it. He had a business to run. Fixing high-end motorcycles and cars required his undivided attention, and even if his employees went home at five o’clock, Yusei didn’t. Lately, he hadn’t been leaving his shop until almost midnight, finding Akiza on the couch in her pajamas, the television still on, indicating she’d attempted to wait up for him.

Akiza was in graduate school, studying literature, wanting to prepare herself for a career in research. She had begun applying for grants, wanting to join one of her professors to research Vedic texts, things that were way over Yusei’s head. He preferred to work with the practical, the tangible–machines, not existential ideas and ethics and morality, the things Akiza loved to talk about. He’d see her textbooks open on the coffee table when he came home, notes in both English and Sanskrit, the ceiling fan lightly ruffling the pages, a spot of pen ink dripping on to the paper where she’d left it.

She never minded the late nights. They spent time together on weekends and between Akiza’s classes, meeting daily for lunch, usually taking a couple hours working on assignments in Yusei’s office while he was out working on the cars. Yusei didn’t understand how she could concentrate with the squealing of the drills and the constant smell of gasoline and burnt rubber, what the incentive for spending time there was when she didn’t get to see him except when she was leaving. He was hesitant to ask her, he didn’t want it to seem like he didn’t appreciate her presence, because of course he did–knowing she was near, that if he had a moment between jobs he could go to the back and see her, typing away on her laptop or clicking her reading glasses between her teeth, brows furrowed in concentration on a particularly difficult text, it all was great comfort during the hectic work week. He worried he was testing her patience, that one day she would grow tired of him waking her up after midnight smelling of sweat and motor oil to carry her upstairs when she had early classes.

Tonight as he laid under a 1969 Cadillac, frustrated out of his mind that he couldn’t figure out what exactly was wrong with the damn thing, he thought of how, even if he might not feel that time was worth anything, he was in the minority. He stared up at the underbelly of the car, the machinery looking like a maze that he’d found himself lost in, his head throbbing with the beginnings of a stress headache. It had to be well past midnight now, meaning it was Saturday. They had never explicitly discussed it, but Yusei had vowed to himself that the weekends were for him and Akiza, not for him and vehicles.

Akiza had been out with Carly that night, the two of them heading to a drive-in movie theater to watch one of the old black-and-white movies that Yusei and Jack would watch begrudgingly but couldn’t really talk about with the level of technicality the girls enjoyed. Carly was studying film, close to completing her undergraduate degree, and Akiza loved storytelling, the two of them talking endlessly about some movie or television show–Akiza had even managed to get Carly’s eyes off her camera long enough to put her nose in a book. Even if they’d stayed out late, Akiza had to be wondering where he was by now.

Pushing himself out from under the car, Yusei rubbed his temples and looked around, eyes focusing on the clock.

Shit. It was past five in the morning. He’d been so fixated on the car he hadn’t even registered that the sky had gone from pitch black to navy blue tinged with sunlight, the stars starting to disappear. Before, Yusei had a tenuous grasp on the passage of time–now, as he stood up, his spine cracking as he twisted to relieve the pressure of lying on his back for at least six hours, he thought about buying a watch. One of those nice ones with an alarm. He could set it to go off every hour, a reminder that time, indeed, was passing and he should get home to his girlfriend at a reasonable time.

One time, he could forgive himself. One late night–or morning, as it were–was nothing for him to berate himself about too much. He walked into the back office, a fleeting hope that he’d see Akiza’s fiery pink hair brightening up the piles of drab paperwork. Logically, he knew she’d be asleep, probably on the couch like usual. Carly might even still be there, in the loveseat hugging a pillow. That knowledge didn’t stop his heart from aching the slightest bit when he didn’t see her, intensifying his desire to go home, make penance for breaking his personal code.

Buy watch. He scribbled on his calloused palm, ensuring that there was no chance he’d forget. He placed the pen back on the desk, flicked the lightswitch off, and closed the door behind him, walking back out into the garage. As he set about straightening up his workspace, picking the wrenches and other tools off of the floor, he mulled over whether or not he should wake Akiza when he got home. The one time he hadn’t, she’d fixed him with a stern look and told him not to do that again, that she wanted to wake up next to him instead of alone on the couch, even if that meant disturbing her slumber for a few brief moments when Yusei entered their apartment. That was half past midnight, though, not almost–god, it was almost six o-clock. His weekend staff would start arriving in an hour.

The sun was a bit higher in the sky, the sky several shades lighter than when he’d went into the office. The light burned his sleep-deprived eyes, exacerbating his headache. He needed coffee. He’d been up so long, might as well keep himself caffeinated to stay awake all day and crash in the late afternoon. His sleep schedule was already suspect, he didn’t need to become fully nocturnal.

He turned around, fishing for his car keys in his pocket as he stepped toward the open garage doors.

“Good morning, handsome,”

Yusei’s head snapped up at the familiar voice. Akiza.

She was standing in the driveway, the faint sunlight behind her making her shine with a soft glow. He was surprised to see her dressed so casually, leggings and one of his sweaters, long enough to hit her mid-thigh and cover half of her hands. Her hair was down, bangs tucked behind her ears, falling over her shoulders, slightly frizzy like she’d just rolled out of bed (or the couch, more likely, he thought), two coffee cups in her hands and a grocery bag on her arm.

Yusei was torn between his excitement at seeing the woman he loved and guilt for making her awaken so early.

“Hey,” he said, walking toward her.

“You been up all night?” she asked, soft smile on her face as she offered him one of the coffees. “Brought you your favorite,”

“Thanks,” he accepted the cup, the smell of hazelnut filling his nostrils. “I was about to come home,”

“I know,” she said. “I was up. Jack was nearly banging down the door.”

“Carly stay over?”

A soft laugh escaped Akiza, her eyes crinkling as she smiled. “She forgot to tell him. You know, he pretends he doesn’t have feelings,”

Yusei knew that all too well.

“He’s so funny. He knew where she was, still got worried,” she sipped her own coffee. “It was cute in a way, I suppose.”

“You suppose?” Yusei snorted. Jack was overprotective of his girlfriend to put it nicely. Carly had no problems telling him to shove off when it got to be too much, which was amusing for everyone that had the privilege of seeing it. “Sorry he woke you up. I’ll talk to him.”

“Don’t worry about it. I’m glad he did.” Akiza reached for his hand, sliding her fingers between his. She tugged him toward her car, parked by the exit. “Got to come see you. Brought breakfast,”

“You didn’t have to, ‘kiza,”

“I know. I wanted to.”

They approached the vehicle, nothing like what Yusei typically worked on, but he had a strange affection for it. It smelled of her perfume, her favorite pine-scented air freshener. It was a mark of comfort, of simplicity. Akiza bypassed the driver’s side door, pulling him along to the front of the car until they stood in front of the hood. He watched as she pushed herself up, leaning back against the windshield, looking at him expectantly.

Now, Yusei wasn’t in the habit of climbing up on cars like this, but watching the sunrise with Akiza, even if it made him go against his mechanic’s instincts, was something he was most definitely interested in doing. He laid back against the glass, putting his arm around her, fully aware his armpits probably smelled rank at best, and pulled her to his side, her head resting on his shoulder.

“What was it this time?” she asked, pulling a pre-packaged muffin out of the grocery bag and handing it to him.

“1969 Cadillac. An antique, owner doesn’t know what’s wrong with it, just says it sounds funny. I’ve been under that thing all night. He’s one of my best customers so I want to get this right for him,” Yusei answered. “Can’t figure it out, though.”

“The great Yusei Fudo can’t determine what’s wrong with a car? Hell just froze over,” Akiza teased.

“Don’t tell Jack, he’ll never bring his motorcycles to me ever again.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it. We have to spare other shops from Jack Atlas.”

They lapsed into silence. The sunlight was growing stronger, peeking out over the tops of the trees.

“I’m sorry,” he blurted out.

“Don’t be,” Akiza looked up at him, a small smile on her face.

“I didn’t come home,”

“Yusei,” Akiza sat up and turned to face him, brushing falling strands of pink hair back behind her ears. “Yusei, don’t apologize. I love your passion for your work. It’s important to you, and that’s important to me.”

“Akiza, I was here all night, I–”

“Yusei, I’m not mad. Don’t feel bad,” Akiza cut him off. “You know, I’ve been doing some studying.”

He was a bit taken off-guard by the subject change. “You don’t have any tests or papers this week,”

“I’ve been studying up on cars,” she said. “I’m here all the time, figured I might make myself useful from time to time,”

Yusei’s heart could have exploded from the rush of affection he felt toward her.

“You help me study during finals, look over my papers even though you don’t fully understand them, listen to me drone on and on about classes. I want to be able to do the same for you,”

“That,” Yusei was still speechless. “That’s very sweet, I appreciate it.”

“Oh, stop you’re making me blush,” she laughed. “Though, there is one thing I’m mad at you about,”

“Oh?”

“I missed my goodnight kiss,” she said, teasing lilt to her voice. “But you can make it up to me,”

Yusei looked down at his girlfriend. He put his coffee down on the hood, placing his hand on her cheek and tilting her head up so he could press his lips against hers. Her eyes fell shut, he could feel her eyelashes brushing against his nose, her lips soft and pliable as they moved against each other. She smelled like home, tasted like coffee. Her hand came to rest on his chest, above his heart, her thumb moving back and forth against his grease-stained work uniform. She pressed against him, her leg entwining with his as they kissed. Yusei could feel the sun heating up his cheek, warm, but not anywhere near the warmth he could feel spreading throughout him as they kissed. Only Akiza could make him feel that type of warmth.

He pulled away, resting his forehead on hers. “I promise to never miss a goodnight kiss again, ‘kiza,”

“Amend your promise,” she said. “Promise me that if you miss a goodnight kiss, you’ll double your efforts for the good morning kiss,”

Yusei slid his pinky around hers. “Promise,”

“Great,” Akiza abruptly slid off the hood. “Let me take a crack at your Caddy, Yus’,”

Yusei watched as his girlfriend marched toward the open garage, looking back over her shoulder periodically to make sure he was following her.

He looked down at the writing on his hand. Maybe he could forgive himself for losing track of time if it lead to perfect mornings like this.

#ygo5ds #anon #asks #faithshipping #this is 2100 words of me dumping my love for this couple on the poor general public #do carly and akiza even interact in the anime??#i dont care!!! theyre best friends in my head #akiza and yusei??? perfection #too cute!!!! i almost puked from the cute whilst writing this #hope i did okay yall this is my first time writing 5ds nd i have dumb weird headcanons abt characterizations

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