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tev-the-random · 2 years

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I AM AN ABSOLUTE JUMBLED MESS, SO HAVE SOME OF MY MESSY THOUGHTS ABOUT THE CROSSOVER TODAY, IN NO PARTICULAR ORDER:

So far, we've got Tango in Gobland, Scar in Tumble Town, Pearl and Joe in Chromia, Cleo and Xisuma in Eversea, Keralis and Jevin in Sanctuary. Impulse and Grian are kind of making their own places. Did I miss anyone?

There are two kinds of emperors in this crossover: the ones who stick to the lore and claim they don't know the Hermits and the ones who drop everything and yell "MY RANCHER!".

Pix fits the second category, though a lot quieter.

Pearl fits the first, which is strange, considering her role as Literally God. At this point we really can't be sure of what exactly this means for Pearl or for Sausage. What is she?

Gem is her own category. There's something very sus going on with her.

Jimmy absolutely freaking out over seeing Tango again though-

I think at this point it's canon that either people have nametags floating above their heads or everyone is wearing an actual name tag and that's how they all know each other's names even though they never met.

Scott just got a magical flash grenade to the eye. How is this man seeing anything after the entire sky erupted in magic light-

Sausage. I'm not surprised. Not even disappointed. Xisuma most certainly is, though.

Is it a custom in Sanctuary to kiss people on the cheeks or is Sausage like... actively making out with newcomers? I know this is a very weird question, but it's Sausage we're talking about.

Joel adopted the one night armour stand joke lmao-

Tango freaking out over every little thing he sees.

Murder is canonically legal in Empires.

Grian is a force of chaos, as expected.

Rancher duo collabs again, pog? With horns and everything?

And Tango is now an engineer in Gobland, which means Fwhip might have some more to do other than poke the Sheriff. This crossover is a win all around for Jimmy, except for the toy jokes, which may increase, but I will thoroughly ignore that-

There's No Curse In Glimmer Grove.

Sausage keeping tabs on all the Hermits. That' either means that he's not as unsuspecting of them as he may seem or it implies that all Hermits are now their own empiresonas-

Grian's appearance in Tumble Town was so incredibly ominous, holy sh-

Shelby trying to be hospitable but at the same time being a witch inviting unsuspecting people into her hut in the cursed swamp after claiming the fog eats souls and pulling out a scythe. I'd be terrified.

Hats and mounts get passed all around. Is this a crime?

Why does only Pearl get an outfit change? I mean, I know why, but like, canonically speaking, why did it happen?

Still, I felt a bit teary-eyed upon seeing the Arena Duo together again, the Gilded Helianthia dress only made it better. I missed these guys interacting so much, and I don't know if I'm in denial like Sausage or if I'm just about to open a Word document to write an entire one shot about it-

Sausage had a vision of Gilded Helianthia, I'm not ok

Oh god, now we have both Joel and Scar yelling LORE in the same place, save us-

So convenient that E!False decided to travel far away right when HC!False shows up. Smart decision, yes, but at the same time, the fanfic writers must now assemble to make the two of them meet.

Ok, so apparently some people remember the Life series and some people don't. I guess that means that some of the characters, such as Jimmy, Joel and Scar, are the same characters from the Life series after they lost their third life. Other characters, such as Scott and Pearl, are not. But what does this mean?

Fwhip sounded so hurt for a moment when he thought Jimmy made Scar his new deputy. This man is not ok.

Soup Group? Soup Group.

Big ears Scar is cursed.

Sausage is too hospitable for his own good.

Scar's deputy and moral support arc. I'm happy for it, but at the same time, I don't trust it.

On one hand, I do think the wallpaper in Tumble Town looks very pretty and it would be so sad to destroy it. On the other hand, Jimmy deserves some dignity and shouldn't take this slander anymore, I swear to god-

Poor Impulse is so confused, why is this cat lady yelling at him, why are animals walking on two legs, where is he, he's having a crisis-

Stratos' class system gets called out, finally.

Just when Joel was so close to convincing the fandom that he's tall, the Empires' folk shut it down and confirm that they're only playing along and he is not, in fact, tall. Short king is back?

Katherine, when you go around telling everyone, including literal strangers your secret, I don't think it can be considered a secret anymore.

Fwhip encourages crime, such a good deputy of the law.

But then again, it's not stealing, it's borrowing-

Seeing the empires from the Hermits' perspectives is crazy, I hadn't realised just how massive these empires got.

The Hermits are staying for a while. I'm so happy this isn't going to be a one-episode thing, I'm dying to see where this goes!

(I'm trying to watch as many perspectives as I can. Some of them haven't come out yet, and I don't feel like watching Keralis' hour long episode. Can someone tell me what happens there?)

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ro-written · 9 months

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Don't Wanna Fall In Love pt. 2 - C.Y

A/N: Listen..I know. It’s been a hot minute lmao. I gotta say, when I first wrote this part, I hated it and literally left it to sit for a while. I finally came back to it and now I don’t mind it! Go figure that lmaoooo, but anywhosies! I’m not gonna promise when the next part will be out, but thank yall for sticking with me thus far.

Tags/Warnings: gn!reader (I used they/them pronouns at one point), Yeonjun Has Feelings (™), reader slips on wet bricks and busts their ass, nothing crazy happens honestly

Word Count: 3.2k

Playlist:

“Clouds” by BØRNS “Tek It” by Cafuné

Winter break gave you a month to forget about Choi Yeonjun.

Somewhat.

You attempted to stay busy by visiting some friends and some family. You picked up some extra hours at your job to make a little extra cash for Christmas gifts. You started a new book AND a new series on TV.

Yet there were moments when your brain would flit back to his face when you closed the door on him. Like now, how you had scanned over this sentence in the book at least 7 times now and all you could think about were his eyes. How they watched you as you shut it. How his lips seemed to frown when you looked away from him, looking like he wanted to say something more. All you could think about was the small exchange between you two.

“I’ll see you later?”

“Yeah, Yeonjun…I’ll definitely see you around.”

You would smack your head lightly when you thought of that moment to try and refocus.

What bothered you the most was the fact that you couldn’t remember the night with him. All you could remember was that you invited him in. Nothing else. You wanted to ask him what he remembered, to see what exactly happened last night. But ultimately, you’d rather steer clear of him. The least amount of contact to keep from drawing any attention.

—

It annoyed him. All of it.

He couldn’t stop thinking of you. How you looked that night, the sound of your voice, how you smelled. He kept replaying all of it in his head.

Especially the moment you rushed him out of your apartment.

He remembered how panicked your face looked, and it bothered him. He tried looking for you around campus before he went home for the break, but any time he caught a glimpse of you, it seemed as if you were in a hurry to get somewhere else.

He even found you on social media, something he really only used when he remembered it existed. When he found your account, he immediately followed you so he could message you. But you never followed back, and he didn’t want to seem weird reaching out to you. Bad enough he stalked your handle out without asking you for it.

He wasn’t winning himself any brownie points.

And for the life of him, he couldn’t figure out why he was acting this way. Why he wanted so badly to talk to you about that night. He typically would immediately forget about his temporary companions within a few days. But he supposes you aren’t his typical companion.

Hell, you didn’t even sleep with him, to begin with.

He remembered quite a bit of the night. He walked you back home, you brought him inside to help sober up a bit, and you both sat on the couch talking about various things. Unlike what he was expecting, where most people immediately dragged him to the bedroom, you sat and talked. Both his and your words were messy and jumbled up, a bit slurred from the drinks you had, but you talked with him.

You listened to him talk about his interest in music, his favorite artists, and his passion for dancing. He spoke about his interest in fashion, and how he loved expressing his identity and personality through his clothes. He talked about his love for his best friends, and how they were the brothers that he never had. You cared about what he had to say, even while tipsy.

Just thinking about it made his face burn a bit, the corners of his lips twitching a bit. He could remember how your tired eyes kept their attention on him, nodding along with what he said. Even as they drooped, you would respond to everything.

“Yeonjun,” Taehyun kicked his foot, bringing him out of his thoughts. Yeonjun’s face looked up from where he was staring at the floor, seeing all four of his best friends’ eyes looking at him.

“You’ve been spaced out for the past ten minutes,” Hyuka filled in.

Yeonjun nodded, giving them all an apologetic smile, and scratched the back of his head. “Sorry guys, just been out of it recently.”

“You’ve been out of it since after the end-of-semester party.” Soobin pointed out. Yeonjun raised an eyebrow, not realizing that his restlessness had been so noticeable all this time. “Something happen?” Soobin’s smirk suggested something else underlying his “innocent” question. Yeonjun just rolled his eyes and tried to refocus on the book he had been reading.

They went to Beomgyu’s uncle’s cabin for a few days before school started back up, wanting to get away from the ever-alive city. They had all agreed that they needed some bonding time together (even though they considered themselves brothers) and needed to be disconnected from the rest of the world before school pulled them back into the depths of studying. It was nice to just be near his friends and be himself, not having to be “The Fabulous Five” for a minute. Stupid name.

“Didn’t you leave out with someone?” Beomgyu piped up, tilting his head and causing the black hair he was growing out the fall in his face. “I thought I saw you head out, but I couldn’t see who you left with. Must have done a real number on you.” He snickered, turning to laugh with the others.

Yeonjun clenched his jaw at his friends’ remarks. Typically he would laugh along with them, even if they were picking on him and his bedroom tendencies. But this time around, with him feeling so conflicted about his emotions towards you, it caused him to just grow agitated.

“I didn’t sleep with anyone that night,” he bluntly remarked back without looking up.

Actually, he hasn’t slept with anyone after that night either. But until they pieced that together, he was not freely offering that information up.

“But you left with someone, didn’t you?” Soobin’s voice piped back up, and Yeonjun rolled his eyes before finally looking at his friends spread around the room. He saw the looks they were all giving him. Ones that told him they were not planning on leaving him alone until he told them the details. He let out an exasperated sigh before setting his book down and marking the page he was on.

“Yes, I left out with someone that night. No, we did not have sex. We simply…talked. And we ended up falling asleep. I left out in the morning. That’s all there is to it.”

Except he knew that he was lying. There was undoubtedly more to it that he wasn’t letting on, given his recent habit of spacing out so much that his friends picked up on.

“Hyung,” Hyuka finally spoke up from his seated position on the floor across the coffee table. “You know you can tell us if something happened. It’s obviously bothering you.” He offered Jjun a sweet smile, one the older knew he would have trouble saying no to. He took yet another sigh, sitting up from his spread position on the couch.

“It’s just…” he slightly trailed off, not knowing what exactly he wanted to say. He hadn’t had feelings like these, whatever these were, in a few years.

“We just talked, you know? It was the first time someone outside of you all actually had an interest in what I had to say rather than just my body. Someone was interested in getting to know me beyond the surface level and…and then I was just pushed out in the morning. I was told it was all a ‘mistake.’ But what’s even worse is that I don’t even know how I feel about this person.”

Yeonjun stared down at where he was picking at his nails, slightly nervous at looking at his friends’ faces. He knows that they all remember the last relationship, and he doesn’t quite want to hear them remind him of it.

“That’s…” Taehyun reached out and put a hand on Yeonjun’s knee, offering some comfort. “It makes sense. Do you know why this other person rushed you out? Have you tried to reach out at all?”

“I have but it just seems like they don’t want anything to do with me. And, I don’t know, I just felt like we had kind of connected that night.” Taehyun looked at Soobin while Yeonjun’s head was still down, giving a look that was hard to decipher.

“If you’re really into them,” Beomgyu piped up. “I say it doesn’t hurt to maybe go to them in person when we get back to campus. See what their deal is. Maybe they don’t know how to approach you.” He shrugged his shoulders and looked at his friend with sympathetic eyes.

“Yeah, 'cause you’re the least approachable out of us,” Hyuka smirked and Beomgyu lightly shoved him, causing Yeonjun to smile, finally relaxing a bit.

Jjun nodded and looked around at his brothers. “I’m definitely going to try.”

—

First day of the Spring semester…and you completely embarrassed yourself in front of your classroom building. Of course, the rain was pouring heavily as you walked down the sidewalk, making you slide across the bricks. You didn’t have your rain boots anymore after someone (read: Jung Wooyoung) put them in the washer and dryer. So now you were stuck with your sneakers trying to watch where you trekked. It took carefully placed steps and really thinking about your walking for you to almost make it to your class without busting your ass.

Almost.

Because, just as you were only a few steps from the door, you made the worst mistake of your life, and stepped on the wrong brick. Your foot slipped from under you, and your umbrella went up into the air as you put your hands down to catch yourself from completely bruising your behind.

“Mother fucker,” you hissed out, placing a hand on your lower back as a shot of pain went through your body.

“Are you okay?” A voice asked from behind you called out over the heavy rain. Awesome.

A firm hand grabs at your bicep, gently helping you up as you slightly limped over to where your umbrella fell, pulling it over your head so you could keep yourself from getting any more drenched.

“Sorry, yeah I’m good, just didn’t–” You turned around to face the person who helped you up, only for the rest of your words to get caught in your throat.

Choi. Yeonjun. Of fucking course.

“Oh, hey.” It was all you could muster in your surprised state, and you were sure your voice gave away your shock. You hadn’t expected to run into him on your first day back, but here you were anyways. In fact, thinking over it, you were surprised to see him on this side of campus. He was a fashion and music double major…so what was he doing at the math building?

“How ha–”

“Sorry, I gotta…gotta get to class.” You interrupted him and gripping your umbrella tightly in your one hand, rushed to the front door to pull it open. You don’t typically consider yourself to be a rude person, not normally interrupting someone in the middle of their sentences and rushing off like that. But every time you had spotted Yeonjun since that night in your apartment, you would hurry off or hide. Simply put, you just didn’t want to deal with those feelings, nor draw any attention that came with interacting with him. And if dodging and ducking him was what you had to do for the rest of your time at the school, then so be it.

You hurriedly found your class, opening the door and finding a seat towards the farthest side of the room away from the door, somewhere in the middle. You took a deep breath, trying to slow your beating heart from everything that had happened in the past 10 minutes. You shifted a bit, thankful that these seats were cloth rather than the colder plastic the other buildings tended to have. It helped considering the backside of your jeans was still very wet and cold.

Sitting for a second, you took a moment to recollect yourself. All you had to do was make it through this semester, and then it would be summertime. He would forget all about you over the summer with his summer flings, and the rest of your time here would be fine. No dodging or diving. Your only job now was to focus on classes and made sure you finished off the year strong. Not only did you have schoolwork, but you had your friends, family, and job to worry about. As well as the future, of course. That would take your mind off Yeonjun.

Pulling out your laptop and a notebook, you heard the door to the room open up, letting out a loud groan from its age. A small gasp came from behind you, and some murmurs filled the room. Quirking an eyebrow, you looked up from your laptop.

Your eyes widened, meeting the last person you wanted to see.

Choi. Yeon. Jun.

—

Every class, you could feel his eyes boring into the back of your head, and it would cause you to lose focus. The first few times you tried to shrug it off. You figured that, eventually, he would have to give up. He would have to get tired of chasing you around. To your dismay, you’d come to find out that Choi Yeonjun was a very persistent man, and as the staring didn’t stop, you ultimately got irritated by it.

A few times you would turn your head around, attempting to not bring too much attention, and try to give him a glare, telling him to knock it off. However, this time, as soon as you turned your head around, he would be the one to look away, a small smirk playing on his lips. It would make you clench your jaw in frustration, but you would have to learn how to block it out.

Another routine that persisted in your shared class was that, after each session, he would quickly pack up and start making his way over to you. And you in turn, seeing him approach you out of the corner of your eye, would pack your things faster and borderline sprint to the door, knowing the last thing you needed now was him talking to you in front of the class.

He couldn’t understand it. He knew now that you were trying to avoid him, seeing you walk quicker every time you noticed him. But he didn’t understand why. You seemed so interested in him that night. You both talked about everything, talked about who you were as people. Who you both hoped to become in the future.

So why were you being so cold now?

—

“Why are you avoiding me?

“Huh?”

You had been leaving your last class to catch the bus to get to your apartment. However, when a hand grabbed at your arm and dragged you into an empty classroom, you couldn’t help but let out a small yelp of surprise, your other hand coming up ready to stat hitting at whoever it was.

Only, when you saw who it was, you lowered your arm, despite still having half a mind to hit him for scaring you. His question didn’t quite fully register in your brain due to the sizzy nature of everything happening so fast.

His eyes narrowed at you, jaw tensed. “You’re avoiding me. Why?”

You moved so his hand would let go of your bicep, shifting around your bag in order to keep your hands busy. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Yes, you do, (Y/N). You know exactly what I’m talking about. You always run the opposite way when you see me, you respond to everything I say in less than three words, and you’re looking at me right now like I’ve grown two heads. So why are you avoiding me?”

Your eyes rolled and you planted your feet down, standing your ground as you looked him in the eye. “God, Yeonjun, I told you that night was a mis–”

“I know. You said that, and I know that’s what you think.” His teeth gritted.

“Look all we did was sleep together and that’s it, I don’t understand why I am so different from all your other conquests.”

His brain felt like it just did tripped over itself, and it took him a second to thoroughly process the words you said to him.

“Wh–...So…Wait you’ve been avoiding me because you think we fucked?” His eyebrows shot up in shock and you slowly nodded your head, confused at what he was trying to say. He let out a scoff before a chuckle, turning his head to the door that he had pushed you through.

“God, if I had realized…” he trailed off, and your eyebrows pulled taut at where he was going. He finally leveled with your eyes and let out a deep sigh. “(Y/N), we didn’t have sex that night.”

He may as well have splashed ice-cold water on you with the way you froze. Your eyes went wide at his admission and you felt - and probably looked - like a deer in headlights. Your eyes went unfocused and fuzzy. Your cheeks burned in embarrassment at the fact that you had been dodging him the entire time for something that never actually happened.

“That night,” he continued, looking down at where his hands started to fidget. “We went back to your apartment, and you asked me to come inside so I could sober up. I did think at first that you were about to lead me into your bedroom. I mean, that’s what I’m used to. But you told me to sit on the couch and you went to get us both some water.”

A flash of a blurry memory played in your head, remembering how your head was slightly spinning filling the cups and walking back to the living room.

“And then we just started to talk. That was really all it was. Us talking about…well, everything. We talked about school and then that led to us talking about what we wanted to do in the future and our hobbies–”

“You really like J.Cole.” You interrupted him and watched as his eyes shot up to meet yours. “And…and you want to wear skirts more because you enjoy the feminine look it adds to your style.”

A smile graced his face, his eyes lighting up at the small details you happened to remember. You wouldn’t admit it aloud, but it made your heart flutter in the tiniest bit. “Exactly.”

His hand twitched, and he looked as if he was considering something, before he shook his head and continued to play with the skin around his nails.

“It’s just,” he continued as he stared at his hands once more. “I really enjoyed our talk. It felt as if…it felt like someone saw me. And…I don’t know, I was just wondering that, since you know all that now…” He clenched his fists, trying to find his words. Jesus christ, it shouldn’t be this hard.

Finally, he sputtered out his question. “I was wondering if it would be okay if we hung out a little?”

Once again, your body froze up.

“No.”

And you left the classroom.

This was written by @/ro-written and is not to be plagiarized, translated, or distributed anywhere else. Copyright Ro-Written 2023.

All comments, reblogs, and likes are always welcome!

#txt #tubatu #tomorrow by together fic #tomorrow by together #tomorrow x together #choi yeonjun fanfic #choi yeonjun #choi yeonjun x reader #choi yeonjun fluff #choi yeonjun angst #yeonjun txt #txt fic

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chimeras-love · 9 months

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tear away at the mask

Pairing: Zack de la Rocha/GN!Reader

Summary: you go to zacks house after promising to help him with some songwriting, but soft glances and softer touches lead to feelings that spill over

Tags: Friends to Lovers, First Kiss, Making Out, No Use of [Y/N], Gender Neutral Reader (No Pronouns + Readers Appearance is Not Mentioned), Drabble, One-Shot

Warnings: Light Sexual Content

A/N: this takes place around the early years of RATM, in 1992 when zack is around 20-ish

Word Count: 2.5k (not kidding it's exactly 2,500 lmao)

"So, how was it?"

Zack sat on the living room floor of his studio apartment, surrounded by scattered wide-ruled paper hastily stacked into vaguely organized piles. Some completely filled with writing, others with a word or two that had apparently not been good enough to elicit anything more.

Nothing particularly out of the ordinary. It fit the character, added a bit more charm. The kind found in the graffiti-scrawled bathroom of a local music venue; where the beer tastes like piss, and people are packed into a 600 square foot room like sardines to a tin. In the living room, which by the nature of studios was also his bedroom, a CRT TV stood atop a weathered black shelf. The neck of an all white Jackson guitar leaned against it, strings uncut. CDs lined along the inside, sorted alphabetically by artist and chronologically by album. A few feet in front of it, a coffee table stacked with all types of memorabilia— tour posters that there simply wasn't any room for on the walls, a used plastic bag from the corner store down the street, and empty mugs and plates you'd both been periodically stacking throughout the day. His couch laid back against the wall.

Which is where you were. You sat adjacent to him, cross legged on the sofa, watching as he absentmindedly drummed his pencil on a legal pad. The lead made small dots where it landed. This page was one of the luckier ones; nearly full of his messy handwriting. Lyrics had been written—and rewritten—down as they came to him. Certain verses were circled while others underlined, some crossed out altogether. To anyone else it looked like jumbled nonsense, but it made sense to Zack (and you, to a certain extent).

"Hey," Zack called your name, waving his hand in front of your face.

"Huh?" You blinked, completely forgetting what he'd asked for a second. "Oh, it was good! I liked it."

"That's it?" Zack asked, a blank sort of 'are you serious' expression plastered on his face as he scanned over the paper. "Just liked it?"

"Hey, that's a good thing isn't it?"

"I need people to do more than 'like' my music, you know." His eyes stayed glued to the paper as he spoke.

"I, uh, loved it?"

Zack stopped, hung his head and smiled to himself.

"You're no help at all."

"Hey! You asked me to help, so it's kind of your fault."

It wasn't a lie. He'd invited you over earlier in the evening, when the sun first began to dip below the L.A. city skyline, and shadows elongated with every passing second. You liked to think of yourself as his personal editor, although truthfully you acted as more of a thesaurus. You didn't mind. You considered yourself lucky to see him in this state. Baggy tee and sweats, surrounded by a concoction of his own thoughts. Writing surged through his veins and kept him breathing, and he excelled at it. You'd seen enough of his shows to know. As if a switch flipped in his brain, his persona molded into one of a lyrical guerrilla.

Molded was the wrong word— molded implies copying something, participating in some semblance of meaningless idolatry. He hadn't molded himself into anything. He already was that ungovernable force, it just took a stage to coax it out.

"What time is it?" Zack asked.

"Almost two."

"Fuck me," he sighed and set down his pencil. He raised his arms above his head and stretched; his t-shirt raised with his movement. You caught a glimpse of the small bit of skin that exposed itself.

'How terrible,' you thought, 'falling for your best friend like this.'

Zack finished stretching, and you quickly averted your eyes. He paused for a second, and tilted his head slightly.

Fuck.

"I- uh, I think the song could use a bridge," you deflected.

"...A bridge?"

"Yeah, you know, something there to contrast the verses."

"I know what a bridge is." He picked his pencil back up. "I mean, where would I put it? The song is basically done. If I put it after one of the verses it'll fuck up the flow."

"Put it at the end...?" You replied, although the infliction of your voice made it into more of a question.

"So, the outro?"

"I don't know! Whatever you want to call it, I just feel like it could work." You waited for Zack to make some dry sarcastic quip, but he was back to his notes. You could've distracted him from a car crash with the way he got lost in music, especially his own.

His hands worked quickly. You couldn't make out what he was writing, but you could see they weren't full sentences. More like standalone words, and something near the bottom that seemed to repeat.

"Alright, what about this?" Zack handed the notepad to you.

You skimmed the page, and read the final stanza.

"All of which are American dreams," you whispered, nearly inaudibly.

You looked up at Zack. He folded his arms, hunched ever so slightly, drawing his eyes from the paper to your own.

"It's, uh..." You couldn't contain the stupid smile that plastered your face. "It's perfect."

Zack's face lit up, letting out a relieved 'fuck yes!' Before getting up to envelope you in a bone-crushing hug, that lifted you quite a few inches off of your seat. You could barely get your arms back around him with how tightly he held you, chest pressed around you and arms awkwardly offset from yours (one under, one over). His scent wrapped around you like he did. It clung to your senses; days old cologne, and something else you couldn't quite pinpoint.

If you knew such accidental advice worked this well, you would've done it a long time ago.

Zack let go, still beaming with pride. You handed his notepad back to him, with the slightest crinkle where you held it.

"That's the only other song I needed done. It's finally ready for the studio tomorrow."

You were about to congratulate him, but the last part of his statement tripped you up a bit.

"Tomorrow?" Your eyes narrowed. "You waited until the day before you were supposed to be in the studio to finish writing this song?"

"Yeah, I-I guess." He averted his eyes, rubbing the back of his neck.

"What were you planning on doing if you didn't finish it?"

"I don't know," he shrugged, "probably just postpone the recording date until I finished."

"Are you allowed to do that?"

"Well..." He trailed off, then shook his head. "What are you, my mom?"

"Alright, alright, fine, I'll back off," you sighed. "What studio is it, exactly?"

"Sound City. It's like 40 minutes from here, somewhere off of I-101." He gestured down the street, although you didn't know if that was truly the direction or whether he simply pointed that way to articulate his point.

You stared blankly. "I've never heard of it."

"You're messing with me, right?" Johnny Cash, Elton John...?"

"You expect me, a regular person, to know where Elton John records his music?"

"Alright, fair point... You know," he began, "you can come with me to the studio tomorrow. Check it out."

"Really? I'm not gonna be, like, a distraction or anything?"

"Maybe..." He teased. "But I won't mind, and I don't think the guys'll mind either."

You tried your best to hide the smile threatening to give away your feelings. You cleared your throat, trying to play it cool. Trying, and failing.

"Alright." You shook Zack's hand in a sarcastic over-the-top manner. "It's a date."

"A date," he agreed, and then yawned. "Man, we've been sitting here for, what, three hours now?"

"Just about... Fuck me." You fell back onto the couch, head pointed to the ceiling. Zack sat next to you. "I'm gonna pass out here."

"You alright with me putting something on the TV?" Zack asked, turning his head slightly to just barely face you.

"Go for it."

"It's not gonna keep you up?"

"It will, but I don't mind." You held your hand to your temple, shielding your eyes from the overhead light. "As long as I don't have to use my brain for anything, I'll be good."

"Probably not a first," he joked.

"Excuse me." You played along, letting out a scoff. "Who finished your song for you?"

He shrugged. "I would've come up with it eventually."

"Because you were doing so well on your own."

"I was, I just needed you here for moral support."

"And moral support deserves writing credits." You quipped back.

He shook his head. "Please, you weren't even paying attention half the time."

"Like when?"

"When you were gawking at me."

"I-I," you stumbled, "I was not gawking. I barely even glanced."

"Seemed like a pretty long glance to me." He grabbed the remote off of the table. Somehow he made something as simple as turning on the TV into a cocky display of victory.

"Okay, haha, very funny, you got me." You threw your hands up in a sarcastic surrender.

"It's alright, you don't have to be embarrassed. I understand" — he held his hand to his chest — "that I'm too fuckin' irresistible."

You rolled your eyes. "Sure, whatever," you scoffed.

You turned your attention back to the T.V.; a godsend, surely. The temperature in the room seemed to skyrocket, as your heart beat out of your chest. You fumbled with the bottom hem of your shirt, trying any self-soothing techniques your brain thought of.

"What's on?" You asked.

"Some bullshit F.B.I. show," he replied. "Nothing else on is any good, unless you'd rather watch the home shopping network."

"Copaganda'll work just fine, thanks."

Zack laughed. You adored that laugh. The way the corners of his eyes crinkled, how broad all of his smiles were. Anytime he laughed, it reminded you of all of the things you loved about him— It made you fucking melt.

"Man, they have a million of these damn shows." Zack said, bewildered.

"Probably for psychos who stay up writing song lyrics until two in the morning."

"Shit, I guess there's a market for everything."

The show continued as you settled into your spot, resting your head on Zack's shoulder. A bold move, absolutely, but he didn't mind. At least, he didn't seem to.

Despite lacking blankets, pillows, or pretty much anything to keep someone comfortable watching a show, it was the most relaxed you'd felt in a while. The rhythmic breathing of not just you, but Zack was tranquil. All in the midst of the busiest city in California. Ironic.

So whilst your eyelids got heavier, and your breathing became more mellow, you found yourself drifting off into a calm sleep.

***

"Hey, you awake?"

Zack shook your shoulder lightly. You stirred, your eyes blinking open slowly.

"The, uh, show's over," he spoke, voice barely higher than a whisper. He really didn't have to say it, considering the hum of the T.V. static was the only sound that you could hear. That, and the occasional passing of a car.

"Already?" You groaned, raising your arms in a deep and relieving stretch. "Fuck, I really don't want to move anywhere."

"We don't have to," he shrugged. "We can just stay like this. Talk or something."

"Sounds nice."

Only, neither of you knew what to talk about. For the first time in the entirety of your friendship, you had absolutely nothing to say. Nothing at all. At least nothing you wanted to admit in the early, early morning of a nearing Los Angeles dawn.

"Can I ask you something?" Zack asked, breaking the silence.

So much for nothing to talk about.

"Yeah, sure," you replied.

"I know I was fucking with you earlier, but I just wanted to know if... if you actually thought I was any good-looking."

"...You're seriously asking me that?"

Zack furrowed his brow, about to counter your question, but stopped. He shook his head. "No, you're right. It was a self-involved question."

Fuck. You hadn't meant to sound antagonistic, but the nature of his question was all but naive. It... caught you off guard, to say the least.

"N-no! It," you sighed, "it's not, it's just..."

Zacks arms crossed over his chest. Well, they'd actually been like that for a while, you just hadn't noticed prior. You had now, and you also noticed how he tapped his fingers rhythmically against his opposing upper arm; awaiting your response.

"You're... you just..." You tried to speak, but each time you fell short of a full sentence. "Christ, why is this so fucking hard to say?!" You huffed. "You're... beautiful."

"... Really?" He asked (rather doubtfully).

"Yes!" You let out. "I mean, god, you're probably the most attractive person I know."

Zack laughed, a mix of relief and nerves at the implications of your sentence. "Shit, I don't know what to say. You're... you're pretty beautiful too."

"You know you don't have to say it if you don't mean it." You laughed, dismissively.

"What makes you think I don't mean it?"

"You used the exact same phrase I used, after I told you..." You fidgeted with your fingernails. "...and you paused."

"That doesn't mean I didn't mean it."

"Doesn't it?" You narrowed your eyes.

"Alright," he sat up in his seat and turned towards you. "What if I could convince you I wasn't just bullshitting?"

"You can try," you huffed, and turned your head to the side.

Zack reached to hold the side of your face gently in his palm, and guided you to face him. Your skin was flush in his hand. Your breath hitched in your throat as you did your best to avoid his gaze.

"Hey," he spoke softly, as if reading your thoughts, "look up."

You did as he asked, hesitantly, and before you could meet his eyes he locked you into a kiss. You froze; your world completely turned in on itself, and your mind raced with a million thoughts all crossing you at the same time. As much as you wanted to pull away and give a disheartened lecture on the state of your friendship, all you could think of was how good his lips felt on your own. All of the convincing you needed.

His open hand rested on your thigh, while your hands made their way to his locs. The kiss deepened, as Zack started to loom over you. Your back hit the arm of the couch, suddenly, which managed to make you gasp. A gasp that he took full advantage of. A small moan left your lips, muffled by his own. As much as you wanted to make out with him until you suffocated, you didn't think dying was a particularly smart idea.

You pulled back for a breath of air, and rested your forehead on his; your heavy breathing both synchronized. You stayed like this for a while, not saying anything, until Zack broke the silence.

"So, uh... believe me yet?"

hope you enjoyed !! the ending is kinda rushed a bit, ive been sitting on this fic for ages and finally found the motivation to finish it so i hope you enjoy :>> and if there's any grammatical mistakes i missed, uh, oopsies :p

#zack de la rocha x reader #zdlr x reader #rage against the machine x reader #ratm x reader #band imagines #real person fiction #rpf #fanfiction

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lightsupinthenorth · 4 years

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Harringrove teachers AU part 1

I finally started writing the Harringrove teachers AU I keep talking about lmao.

Tag list: @twoprettyboys, @inkedplume, @marianaosborne, @liglitterbug, @hmg621

If anyone wants to be added to or taken off the tag list for the (hypothetical) future posts of this AU, let me know ;)

Billy was close to vibrating out of his skin with nerves, but as Max exited her bedroom and sat down in front of him at the kitchen table, he relaxed his face into his usual indifferent mask and pretended he didn’t have a care in the world.

“What’s up, shitbird?”

She only groaned in reply. She was still a bit mad at him for making them move from California to Indiana, but Billy hadn’t had much choice in the matter. Schools ready to hire someone like Billy as an English teacher weren’t that common. To look at the bright side, at least Neil was far away from them and wouldn’t cause any trouble. Max knew all that, hypothetically, but having to leave her friends had been tough on her.

“Slept well?”

“Fine…” She grumbled.

“Wow, aren’t you in a radiant mood on this fine morning.”

Max rolled her eyes.

He knew he should just stop needling her and leave her to sulk in peace until he had to get to his first teachers meeting to prepare the upcoming school year. However, focusing on her allowed him to not focus on himself, and that was exactly what he needed at that moment.

Max started staring at him, then, and a smile slowly spread across her face. Billy, who had been fidgeting unconsciously with his empty coffee cup, stopped moving all together, which only served to make him appear more suspicious.

“Are you nervous?” She asked, with a teasing glint in her eyes.

Of course, it took making fun of Billy to lighten her mood. Billy sighed. What had his life come to? He was being mocked by a fifteen-year-old wearing neon pink unicorn pajamas and sporting a rather severe case of bed head (that’s what she got for not asking him to braid her hair before bed).

“Pff, no.” He scoffed.

According to the way Max’s smile widened, it wasn’t a convincing answer. How could he have thought he’d be able to fool her?

Billy turned away from her to fetch the carton of orange juice from the fridge. A stray lock of hair fell in front of his eyes and he tucked it behind his ear. His day hadn’t even properly started that his bun was already falling apart.

“It’s going to be fine, you know that right?”

“Yeah. Thank you for these words of wisdom.”

Billy sounded sarcastic, but he was actually grateful that Max was trying to reassure him.

“Are you going to wear that, though?”

Billy instantly looked down at his outfit. He had put on a short-sleeved blue button-down, jeans with no hole in them, and shoes that were not sneakers. That was the best he could do with what he had in his closet.

“Yeah, why? What’s wrong with it?” He asked.

“Nothing, nothing. You look good.”

Max sounded like she was holding something back, and Billy wouldn’t have it.

“Come on, just tell me.”

“Okay fine… You sure about the short sleeves? People are gonna stare.”

She had a point. Billy had been planning on wearing long sleeves, as he had for his job interview, but it was a hot day. Scorching hot. Billy was already in danger of sweating gallons because of stress, he didn’t need the heat on top of that. Anyway, he wasn’t going to hide his tattoos all year. They might be a bit much for a first meeting, but well… at least he had taken off most of his piercings.

Billy shrugged.

“I can deal with that.”

He regretted his misplaced confidence as soon as he got out of his car and set foot on the concrete of the Hawkins High parking lot. Max had been right, people were going to stare. Usually, he liked having people stare at him, but not in the way his new coworkers were certainly going to. He wanted to have eyes on him because he looked good… not because he looked unprofessional.

He had a jacket in the trunk of his car, but if he arrived at the meeting clad in a thick black leather jacket when it was ninety-five degrees out, people would take him for a weirdo, which was maybe worse than them taking him for a fraud. Fraud it was, then.

He stumbled upon a young woman smoking outside the main building and tried to hide his uneasiness as she appraised him.

“Hi! Are you the new teacher? William, is it?” She asked him with a bright smile.

“Uh… yeah. Please, just call me Billy.”

She shook his extended hand.

“Heather, I teach PE”, she said as she stubbed her cigarette out, “come with me.”

Billy followed her, glad taht she had apparently taken him under her wing. Now he didn’t have to look for the teachers lounge. It was one less thing to worry over.

As they entered the room, Billy’s senses were assaulted by the smell of coffee and the jumble of ongoing conversations.

He’d barely known her for two minutes, but Heather was like a lifeline in this unfamiliar and overwhelming place. She pointed at someone who was reading a book in one of the chairs closest to the door.

“Here is my friend Robin.”

As they approached her, she got up to hug Heather and then shake Billy’s hand. She looked down at his arms and stared for a few seconds. Billy braced himself for a negative comment, but what he got instead was “nice tatts”.

“Thanks.”

He was going to ask her what subject she taught, but Heather talked first.

“Is Steve not there yet?”

“He is! Murray has just been talking his ears off ever since he got there.” Robin gestured toward the other side of the room.

“Ouch”, Heather winced, “conspiration theories again?”

“You know it”, she confirmed.

“Why haven’t you rescued the poor boy?”

Robin cackled.

“Felt like being a little mean.”

“Well, I’m gonna help him. Because, unlike you, I’m a good friend.” Heather said, before leaving in the direction Robin had indicated.

“So, William –“

“Billy.”

“Sorry, Billy. Is it your first year of teaching?”

“Yeah…”

“Are you nervous?”

What was it with people asking him this question today?

Billy shrugged, hoping he would be able to deceive Robin’s assessing eyes. He had a reputation to uphold… well, to build and then to uphold.

“Not particularly.”

“Cool.” She said, frowning slightly.

She seemed to doubt him. She would have been right to, but Billy found it outrageous nonetheless. He could deal with Max seeing right through his bullshit. She was his sister. Robin, on the other hand, was only a coworker. One he had met less than five minutes ago, at that..This could not fly!

Thankfully, Heather got back to them before Robin could interrogate him any further. Billy looked behind her to greet the Steve guy they had mentioned, but he couldn’t even get a “hello” out. All the air was punched out of his lungs.

The man was so gorgeous that Billy got a little weak in the knees, even though he wasn’t easy to impress.

The guy was all prim and proper, which wasn’t usually Billy’s type. It shouldn’t have worked for him, but it did. Oh God, it did. The contrast between the guy’s preppy clothing style and his messy soft-looking hair did things to Billy.

There was a wide smile on Steve’s face, but it slowly faded into a straight line as he gave Billy a onceover. Great… he was a judgmental asshole. Just Billy’s luck. Of course, he couldn’t be that pretty and be nice too. That wouldn’t have been fair to the average person.

Billy could see Steve quickly hiding his discomfort behind a smile. He noticed how it was less bright and sincere than his earlier one, too.

“Hi… I’m Steve, nice to meet you.”

Billy considered ignoring Steve’s extended hand, but he didn’t want to get in trouble with any of his coworkers before the school year had even started, so he sucked it up. If Steve could pretend he didn’t hold Billy in contempt, Billy could pretend he didn’t think Steve was an asshole.

He’d just avoid the guy as much as he could. Teachers weren’t obligated to spend that much time together, anyway. It wouldn’t be that hard.

Would it?

#Harringrove #Billy Hargrove #Steve Harrington #Max Mayfield #Heather Holloway #Robin Buckley #fanfiction #Teachers AU #should I continue this?#let me know #for real I don't know what I'm doing

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thecodeisveronica · 4 years

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Dedicated to: @code-verxnica @3am-re-thoughts @krisbeekreme @mnelson25 and all the other S.T.A.R.S. lovers out there :3

Ok so I’ll be starting my S.T.A.R.S. hcs with Richard Aiken! They’ll be a little jumbled but my brain is pretty messy lmao. I’ll probably end up editing them and adding more but I’ll reblog if I do 💞

I’ll tag these lil essays as “da stars boys”

Richard Aiken:

— Richard has a lotta nicknames. He’s been known to be called things like: Rich, Richie, Cookie or just simply Aiken. Cookie is based off the drummer for the Sex Pistols who’s called Paul Cook (also nicknamed cookie) Rich loves punk so he’s a big fan of that nickname :D

— Rich grew up in New Jersey but he traveled around with his parents a lot. His mum was multilingual and worked as a translator in various different countries. His dad worked as an engineer for the US army before settling down as just a regular mechanic so he could take care of Rich.

— He had a good upbringing and loved his overall family very much. The only relative he disliked was his auntie’s cat; it always hated him for some reason.

— His crewcut actually came from his passion for punk. When he was a teenager, he shaved the sides of his head and pierced one of his ears. This surprised his parents since he was known for being so well-behaved and polite but they accepted it nonetheless.

— He got rid of the piercing after joining S.T.A.R.S. but kept the crewcut and told everyone he had it for practicality purposes.

— Since he travelled a lot, he was mainly home-schooled or tutored but attended proper school from the age of 13/14.

— His favourite country to visit was Japan. He loved the contrast of areas in Tokyo since some were bright and neon yet others were gentle and pastel-coloured. (He loved the cherry blossoms and secretly wanted some of the petals but never told anyone in case they thought he was soft)

— Richard has a passion for languages and studied Russian in his mid-teens before deciding it was too hard and moving onto Italian instead.

— So it’s canon that when Richard was a young boy, paralysed with fear, he had to watch his baby sister being murdered by an armed criminal. He regretted failing to protect her for the rest of his life which is what spurred him to dedicate his life to protecting others and eventually join the S.T.A.R.S. team.

— After he started school, his grandma and grandad became a big part of his life since his mum still travelled around. His dad became distant after the death of his sister which is what created the closer bond with his grandparents.

— He loved to bake with his grandma, especially plain sponge cakes because then he could dye the batter crazy colours and pretend he was a wizard.

— He drew designs like mini cottages and other small buildings as a kid that would be built for him by his grandad. One time he designed a teddy bear-themed dollhouse and dedicated it to his sister.

— Rich’s grandparents died when he was 19 and he’s carried a picture of them in his wallet ever since. His parents moved away to Canada that same year and left him their old house.

— He’s good at reading emotions and can easily tell what the best way to comfort someone would be depending on their mood.

— During S.T.A.R.S. Richard would sometimes join Chris, Forest and Joseph in their usual visits to the suburbs of Raccoon City but would never want get into direct trouble. Instead he’d be their lookout and/or getaway driver.

— It’s no secret that everybody loves Richard. He knows exactly how to cheer people up and calm them down. He usually uses his music to comfort others or takes them to quiet spots that he himself enjoys.

— He has a weird thing for plain rice. His lunch in the office is usually just a tub of white rice and a soda which is very amusing to his teammates. Forest often calls him “grain-boy” as a joke but Richard doesn’t mind; he just carries on eating his rice :)

— He’s a HUGE fan of records and owned an array of vintage record players. He’s always heading down to the local music store and getting his hands on some bargains. Chris likes to join him on these little trips and they always trade music tastes.

— When off-duty, he heads down to the main hall and helps out at the reception desk, thus becoming a friendly face to everyone that enters.

— He never says it explicitly but Rich loves his friends to pieces. That’s why he’s always the one to suggest when they all go out for drinks together. There’s just something about friendship that really makes his heart swell.

— So all in all, Richard loves everybody and everybody loves him — except from his auntie’s cat :D

#hhh these are a fat mess but i’ll edit them soon 🤧🤧#my brain is fried so i haven’t added every single one in my head >_<#resident evil #resident evil headcanons #richard aiken #stars feels #da stars boys

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velvetsehun · 4 years

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writing quiz/interview!

i wasn’t tagged but i’m doing it anyway because you can’t stop me

1. what is your ideal setting for focusing on your writing?

ideally at my desk since its where i have everything i need (plus my google home is there for when i need music), or i actually like to sit on the floor and write at my coffee table with my headphones on - i do listen to music when i write but then i’m really concentrating i have to switch it to something that has no words otherwise i get my thoughts all jumbled up!

2. what is your favourite genre to write?

i’m a film student so i’m sorta well versed in a lot of genres, i treat my fics like i’m writing a movie (is that weird?) so i really get into the genres i write, but if i had to pick a fave genre id actually say horror or even suspense fiction, i like gothic romanticism and fantasy as well lmao.

3. do you prefer to write on paper, or digitally?

both - i jot down ideas/small paragraphs of stories on paper and transfer them, or i write just into a word doc, i’m not too fussy.

4. it’s the middle of the night and you suddenly wake up with an idea. what do you do?

short hand it into my evernote and pray to god that i remember it in the morning - i have to really be passionate about it to actually get out of bed to write it down!

my short hand is messy but it makes sense to me.

5. who is your favourite person to write about?

im a ff writer, i have been for a very long time (not on this blog) but since im writing kpop ff atm and i have an undying love for my exo bias, imma go with sehun - its just so easy to write for him and i have such a respect for him that everything just flows.

I sorta mould my writing to whoever i’m writing however, i just to make sure my fics (at least characterwise) don’t sound tonally all the same.

6. do you like making your own characters, or do you usually write about real people?

although atm i’m writing kpop ff, i have in the past made many a character and i have a very long process into how i do it, maybe ill share one day.

But, I like both, but i do enjoy the work that goes into making a character, but tbh - when you write kpop ff you’re not really writing about a real person (unless stated), you build a character around an existing human and it still works!

7. have you ever written a book, or a story with more than 15 chapters (or 100k words)?

In the past i’ve written nearly 100k but that was when i was still a teenager and didn’t put the most work into my stories.

I’m trying to write a book and i’m writing a ff thats about to be 20 chapters lmao, i’m over 65k into born to die and its only chapter 6 so i can only imagine what it’ll be on by the time i get to chapter 20 since i at minimum write 11k a chapter!

8. how often do you get ideas?

i’m having one rn as i type.

i get ideas all the time, i’m very influenced by my environment - from the places i’m in to even what i’m listening to, i draw ideas from it!

i also am a sucker for getting ideas from media that i intake! i’m an avid reader and movie watcher but i’m also pretty big into gaming and have been since i was a teenager!

9. do you ever get an idea that you really like, but just can’t seem to finish?

All the time, sometimes the direction you go for just isn’t feasible for a story or it ends up being a bit lacklustre but i do have a few shelved ideas that just wont get finished for various reasons.

10. what is your least favourite plot?

Huh, of my own? it would be one of my shelved idea’s

of other peoples? its harder to say, I’m very picky so i don’t just read anything not matter how desperate I am to read something

11. tag 5 or more people

uh.. anyone can do this, i hate tagging

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