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I don’t get the hype around holloweane. like it’s cute I guess? And they’re tragic. But I’ve never been able to really get into them. I’ve never been able to get into their characters much either, I like Holloway a lot and Duke is just kinda there
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Fireworks explode over the lake, drowning out the sound of cheers from the citizens of Hatchetfield.
Duke loves the Honey Festival, always has. Though, for some reason, he finds himself unable to watch the fireworks. He can't watch the display without an aching emptiness in his heart.
Now, instead of watching the colorful explosions, he finds himself walking by the old diner. Boards cover the windows, graffiti sprayed across the wood.
He misses it, though he can't quite place his finger on why. He tells himself it's because of the food and tries to ignore the nagging little voice in the back of his head that tells him that's wrong.
Something red in his peripheral catches his attention. He turns to see a red haired woman in a denim jacket. “Oh, hello,” he says politely.
“Hiya,” She greets with a grin. Her eyes drift over to the abandoned building. “Was it a good restaurant?” She asks curiously.
“It was the best,” Duke replies with a smile of his own, “Can't find another slice of pie in town that even compares to Miss Retro’s. Too bad it closed down when she died.”
The stranger hums as her bright blue eyes lock on Duke again. “That's a shame,” she sympathizes, “But we can't dwell on the past.”
This makes Duke laugh as he looks her over. “Says the woman who’s dressed like the eighties spat her out,” he teases. He extends a hand to her. “I'm Duke, by the way.
“Miss Holliday,” She introduces herself as she takes his hand. “I hope I'll see you again real soon, Duke.” She gives a wink before drawing her hand back and walking away.
Another loud boom sounds off as another firework explodes in the sky. Duke's eyes turn up to watch the bright, colorful lights shimmer in the night sky before looking at the retreating back of Miss Holliday.
He wonders why the ache in his chest feels stronger than ever now.
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Fireworks explode over the lake, drowning out the sound of cheers from the citizens of Hatchetfield.
Duke loves the Honey Festival, always has. Though, for some reason, he finds himself unable to watch the fireworks. He can't watch the display without an aching emptiness in his heart.
Now, instead of watching the colorful explosions, he finds himself walking by the old diner. Boards cover the windows, graffiti sprayed across the wood.
He misses it, though he can't quite place his finger on why. He tells himself it's because of the food and tries to ignore the nagging little voice in the back of his head that tells him that's wrong.
Something red in his peripheral catches his attention. He turns to see a red haired woman in a denim jacket. “Oh, hello,” he says politely.
“Hiya,” She greets with a grin. Her eyes drift over to the abandoned building. “Was it a good restaurant?” She asks curiously.
“It was the best,” Duke replies with a smile of his own, “Can't find another slice of pie in town that even compares to Miss Retro’s. Too bad it closed down when she died.”
The stranger hums as her bright blue eyes lock on Duke again. “That's a shame,” she sympathizes, “But we can't dwell on the past.”
This makes Duke laugh as he looks her over. “Says the woman who’s dressed like the eighties spat her out,” he teases. He extends a hand to her. “I'm Duke, by the way.
“Miss Holliday,” She introduces herself as she takes his hand. “I hope I'll see you again real soon, Duke.” She gives a wink before drawing her hand back and walking away.
Another loud boom sounds off as another firework explodes in the sky. Duke's eyes turn up to watch the bright, colorful lights shimmer in the night sky before looking at the retreating back of Miss Holliday.
He wonders why the ache in his chest feels stronger than ever now.
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This was me since the first announcement so I'm very thrilled right now
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Ready thy steel. Foul creatures rise from bogs and bridges. Methinks puppets doth approach! Stay vigilant. Yet more tidings are at hand…
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Rain pours steadily over the tiny town of Hatchetfield. Water runs off rooftops, down gutters, and forms puddles on the ground.
Miss Holloway doesn't notice the rain, despite being soaked to the bone. Her damp red hair hangs limply and her wet denim jacket clings to her.
Mascara streaks down her cheeks as her shaky fingers trace the name carved into the stone in front of her. Her hand slides down to the date as she fights back a sob.
“I'm so sorry, Duke,” She whispers brokenly, barely audible over the downpour.
It doesn't matter.
Duke can't hear her anymore.
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Aquamarine Heart
Pairing: Sam Sweetly/Zoey Chambers (Sweetbers) Words: 4,334 Ao3
Keep reading
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Smilin’ But We’re Close To Tears
Ao3
“…what do you think is out there?” Ziggs asks, reclining back in the bed of their old pickup truck. They take a sip of whiskey straight from the bottle. They can see strips of galaxy running like ribbons through the night sky.
Skud stays quiet, his nimble fingers busy rolling a joint. When he’s finished, his answer is further delayed by him lighting up and taking a hit. “You mean, like, up there or outside of Hatchetfield?” he asks, coughing slightly. He passes the blunt to Ziggs in exchange for the bottle.
Shrugging, Ziggs takes a hit. “Both, I guess.” They blow out the smoke and watch it rise.
Keep reading
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“Listen,” Miss Holloway whispers as she cups Duke's face tenderly in her hands. “Do you hear that?”
Duke can't hear anything except for his heart trying to beat itself out of his chest. “What is it?” He finally manages to ask, his voice soft.
A smile curls the corners of Miss Holloway's mouth. Her thumbs brush over Duke's cheeks. She leans forward, stopping just before her lips meet his.
“That's the sound of my heart breaking,” she murmurs as her hands fall away from his face. “Because you could never be happy with me. Because I would just ruin you.”
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Another
Sam knocks back another shot before slamming the empty glass onto the bar. 
The sound gets the bartender’s attention.”Want another?” he asks knowingly, already reaching for the bottle of tequila he’d poured the first three shots from.
“Yeah,” Sam nods. He watches as a fresh shot glass gets filled in front of him. He takes it with a ‘thanks’ before taking that shot as well.
“Slow down, Sams,” a familiar voice says behind him. A hand brushes across his back before the stool next to him becomes occupied by a familiar face. Zoey brushes her hair back from her face before getting the bartender’s attention to order her own drink.
Sam scoffs before signaling for another.
The bartender slides his fifth shot in front of him at the same time he places a fruity mixed drink in front of Zoey.
She takes a sip of her drink as she watches Sam down the shot. “This about Charlotte?” she asks, sounding bored.
“Jesus Christ, does everyone know?” Sam pinches the bridge of his nose, pushing up his sunglasses. He toys with the empty shot glass. “It happened last night-” he starts.
Zoey cuts him off. “Yeah, I know. Left you a letter, ran off with your marriage counselor to Clivesdale.” She pulls a disgusted face at the mention of the rival town before taking another drink.”It’s what all the uppity old ladies are gossiping about when they come in for coffee. And honestly? Fuck her.”
A small, humorless chuckle leaves Sam at that. “Yeah, well the lack of fucking her might have been what led to this.”
“Why’s it matter?” Zoey questions with a tilt of her head. “You weren’t happy with her. Why does it hurt so bad?”
He ponders this as he signals the bartender for another shot. “...I don’t know,” he says finally, “I think because she held on so tight, insisted on counseling despite her affairs… it’s just kind of fucked up that she’d run off with the person who was trying to fix us?”
He’s not making sense, he knows. He happily takes the next shot as soon as it’s in front of him. “I don’t fucking know, Zoe. She was my first love, my highschool sweetheart. The fact that we fell apart just kind of fucking sucks on its own. The constant betrayal just makes it worse.”
“Like you were faithful,” Zoey reminds him as she sets a hand on his shoulder. “Honestly, how many women besides me have you been with?”
“None,” Sam says honestly. He’s starting to get dizzy, all the alcohol he’s consumed starting to hit. “Just you. It’s been you for years.”
Silence.
He glances over at her to see the stunned expression on her face. He pulls off his sunglasses, setting them on the bartop.
“Sams…” Zoey seems speechless. “I- You know I’m not going to stay in Hatchetfield forever, right?”
“Who says I wouldn’t go to New York with you?” He looks at her seriously, blue eyes shimmering with some emotions she can’t seem to handle.
She looks away. “You can’t uproot your whole life for me.” Grabbing her drink, she quickly chugs it. Once it’s empty, she stands and, without looking at Sam again, heads for the door.
The bartender starts to call after her, but Sam stops him. “I’ll pay for her drink.” Sliding his sunglasses back on, he holds up an empty shot glass. “How about another?”
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"It's a reference to Trail to Oregon, not Alice's feelings towards Bill." -me explaining my url to the same person on more than one occasion
Emoji prompts are closed and this blog will be mostly inactive for the foreseeable future.
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RUTHRUTHRUTHRUTHRUTHRUTHRUTHRUTHRUTHRUTHRUTHRUTHRUTHRUTHRUTH
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saw someone make a post about ted looking exactly like pete when he was a teenager and I raise you,
ted looks at pete and can only see himself. he sees a wide-eyed awkward teenage boy who's too smart for his own good. and he can barely look him in the eye because he knows whats coming. and he stopped believing in any God years ago but he can only pray things turn out different this time.
Ted always keeps his distance whenever steph is there. and whenever he glances over at the two of them he sees Pete's face full of hurt but he cant help it. whenever he sees steph, he sees a redhead wearing her mother's old jean jacket, covered in patches and embroidery hiding all the rips and tears.
it leaves a bitter taste in his mouth.
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This came to me in a vision.
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Studies Show Fate of Town and Entire Timeline Dependent on Who is Wearing this Sick Vintage Denim Jacket
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Lexthan if Yellow Jacket ended the way we wanted to
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🍝
Oh God, Pete didn't think this through. He stares at the plate of Spaghetti Bolognese sitting on the table in front of him.
Steph hasn't noticed his apprehension yet. She's busy cutting into her chicken parmesan, talking about something.
Pete can't hear her over his own racing thoughts.
“And then Brooke said-” Steph cuts off as she notices Pete not eating. “Hey, everything alright?” She asks, frowning slightly.
“yeah,” Pete gives an awkward smile. “It's just… I'm wearing a white shirt and I know I'm going to make a mess.”
Giggling, Steph replies, “Yeah? Well so am I. Who cares?”
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