#emo imagines

[oldiesstationlover11607]

Anyone wanna be a doll and request mcr one shots from me? (my mcr obsession is coming back I fear and I need to get some of this tension out hehe) i might even have to rewatch life on the murder scene 🤭

[canyousevmyheavydirtysoul]

Cape Town. (Chapter 6.4) (R. Ross x Reader)

Kirstenbosch Gardens was huge. So huge, in fact, that it would take a full three days to properly explore on foot. If someone like Ryan who didn't know their way around at all had to wonder off alone, the chances of locating them were pretty slim.

That being said, you found him within ten minutes.

He was sitting on a bench under a towering oak tree, gazing out across the rolling fields of flowers. You slowed down your stride as you approached him, not wanting to intrude on what was clearly a personal moment.

Hanging behind the tree, you rested one hand on the trunk and looked over at him. His gaze wondered up at the mountains, and he took in the sights for a moment before closing his eyes and exhaling.

Watching him closely, you noticed his lips move gently, as if he were silently sounding out some unintelligible words. At first, you thought he might've been saying a prayer, but then he reached inside his jacket pocket and pulled out a tiny, worn-out notebook.

Pulling off the pen that had been hooked over the book's front cover, he opened to a clean page and began jotting down words and phrases. Your lips parted as realisation dawned on you. He was writing song lyrics.

Now you really felt like you were intruding. You knew how personal the songwriting process was – especially to Ryan – and being in his presence while he was immersed in it (without him knowing you were there, nonetheless) felt like a major invasion of privacy.

Deciding it was best to leave him alone for a couple more minutes, you lifted your hand from the tree and started taking backward steps. You didn't get more than two in before the guitarist's head turned and he saw you.

"Hey," he smiled lazily.

Embarrassed that you'd been caught in the act, you stammered a response. "Uh, h-hey." You closed your eyes and waved a hand around. "Sorry, I didn't mean to sneak up. I saw that you were busy and I didn't wanna bother you."

Shifting up on the bench, he patted the empty space in an invitation for you to join him. "You'd never be a bother to me."

Readjusting your hair to hide your flushed cheeks, you walked around the bench to join him. There was silence for a little while. Not the uncomfortable kind, but more the kind that arose between two people who enjoyed each other's company so much that no conversation was even necessary.

Ryan was the one who eventually banished the quiet. "It's so beautiful out here. You're so lucky to have this right in your backyard."

"I love coming here," you sighed, resting your elbow on the back of the bench and letting your head rest in your palm, "Don't get to do it as much as I'd like, though."

"'Cause of your studies?"

"That, and I'd be completely bankrupt if I came here all the time," you laughed.

He shook his head and let out a sigh, then mimicked your pose. "It's criminal that they charge you for entry."

"Eh." With a shrug, you looked around at the natural beauty. "It's to make sure that all of this is preserved, so it makes sense, I guess. Can't be mad about it."

"True."

Noticing the notebook was still clutched in his hand, you nodded toward it. "Did you get some decent material?"

After you asked your question, Ryan's face faltered for a moment, and you mentally kicked yourself when you realised how incredibly prysome you must've sounded.

Immediately, you backtracked. "I'm sorry; I shouldn't have asked. It's none of my business."

"No, no," he chuckled softly, holding up one hand, "It's alright, really. And yeah... so far this trip has been very... inspiring."

He locked his gaze with yours and there was something about the way he was looking at you that made it impossible for you to look away, no matter how red your face was getting. Eventually, when it started to approach the point of being creepy, you broke eye contact and readjusted yourself on the bench.

"So, this whole 'rockstar' thing..." you started, "is it your endgame? Do you still wanna be up on stage when you're 60?"

"Are you kidding?" he smiled widely, perking up and laying his arm across the backrest of the bench, "That's when the fun begins."

Playing along, you furrowed your brows and nodded feverently. "Oh, of course."

The two of you shared a laugh, then Ryan continued talking. "Well, I don't think I can be referred to as a rockstar, by definition. But if you mean do I wanna do music until I'm old and grey, then yeah. Yeah, absolutely. Music's always been my escape. My best friend. It's my-"

"Your first love?"

He looked at you and you saw a twinkle in his eye. "Exactly."

Nodding fondly, you smiled lazily. "I know what you mean."

"You feel that way about... tourism?"

There was an amused, almost confused expression on the musician's face, and you couldn't help but laugh.

"No, definitely not," you chuckled, tucking your hair behind your ear and shaking your head. "No, my first love was – is – writing."

That answer seemed to pique Ryan's interest, as shown by the way he unconciously leaned in closer. "Writing?"

"Yeah. In fact, I had a notebook similar to that one," you pointed at the notebook in his lap, "and I used to write any chance I got. Stories, poems, random nonsense... I just dumped all the thoughts in my head out onto paper."

"Used to?" he questioned your use of words, "You mean you don't do it anymore?"

"Not as much as I'd like to. You know how life is – I got so caught up in studying and work that I ended up neglecting my hobbies."

"How come you didn't pursue it? Study English at uni instead of what you're doing now?"

Blowing a raspberry, you widened your eyes and drew your knees to your chest. "Writing is not really a lucrative career here. At least with tourism, I'd pretty much be guaranteed a steady income. And," you shrugged, giving a small smile, "there are some really great upsides to it... like meeting groups of attractive American band members."

Shocked by your sudden bout of confidence, Ryan arched his brows and gave a small wheeze.

"(Y/L/N), you flirt."

Copying his reaction from a moment ago, you arched your brows and wheezed. "You're one to talk, Ross."

Pursing his lips to fight back a smile, the musician held up his hands and relented. "Fair enough."

"Come on." You cocked your head in the direction of the pathway and stood up from the bench. "We better get back before they send out a search party."

He stood up, stuffing his hands in his pant pockets and rocking back and forth on his heels. "Orrrrr...." he gave you a mischeivous look, "We could go on an adventure?"

✧✧✧

15 minutes into the 'adventure'.

"Watch out!"

"AHHHH!"

Ryan had greatly miscalculated the distance between the third and fourth stepping stones in the rippling stream the two of you were crossing, and ended up with one foot fully submerged in the water as a result.

"Oh noooo," you laughed, not even attempting to hide your amusement at the horrified look on your counterpart's face as he slowly lifted his foot from the running stream.

Snapping his head in your direction, he shot you a glare. "I'm glad you think this is so funny. Ugh," he scrunched his face up in disgust as he inspected the mud sticking to his boot, "This is terrible."

"I guess you could say... there was a terrible splash."

Your joke hung in the air, accompanied by the sounds of the surrounding nature, as you and Ryan stared at each other. A moment later, he spoke up.

"That was awful."

"It was hilarious."

"I think you should stick to being a tour guide, angel. Comedy is clearly not your strong suit."

Pretending you didn't notice the affectionate nickname and fighting to suppress the blush threatening to spread over your cheeks, you stuck your tongue out at him and proceeded to skip across the remaining stones.

Sucking it up, Ryan gave one last sigh and followed your lead, a squelchsounding through the air each time his wet shoe met a stone.

✧✧✧

25 minutes into the 'adventure'.

With a gasp, you pointed at a beautiful natural water feature ahead of you, tucked away in a corner surrounded by rocks and vibrant green leaves. "Look!"

"Oh wow," Ryan matched your enthusium, "That's gorgeous."

"We have to get a picture there."

Taking note of the water flowing from above and the puddles it was forming on the sandy ground, Ryan shifted his weight from one leg to another. He had no desire to have yet another unfortunate water accident today. "Uhhh... we're pretty much guaranteed to get soaked if we stand over there."

"So? It's an adventure," you reminded him, giving his hair a light ruffle before dashing off.

Taking strategic steps to ensure that you weren't directly underneath the water falling from above, you steadied yourself by gripping the surrounding rocks. Now in the middle of the natural feature, you were able to appreciate its beauty in all its glory, and it was spectacular.

Any reluctance Ryan had had instantly dissipated the moment he saw you standing there, smiling that beautiful smile of yours and looking unapologetically happy.

It made him unapologetically fixated.

Realising that he still hadn't joined you, you looked to him and beckoned him over. He obliged without hestitation, not even bothering to dodge the water as he stepped into the space next to you.

The two of you marvelled at the beauty together for a few minutes, snapping a couple of pictures in the process. You had just finished taking a shot of a single flower growing in the secluded spot and were tucking the camera away when you felt his fingers graze your cheek.

His fingertips were rough – undoubtedly from all the guitar playing – and the contrast of that against your soft skin sent a shiver down your spine. Lifting your head, you locked eye contact with him and before you knew it, you were leaning in.

And he was leaning in too.

But then...

"GOTCHA!"

✧✧✧

That evening.

"When. Will. You. Stop. Ruining. My. Life?!" you yelled at (Y/B/F), accentuating each word with a smack of a throw pillow to her head.

"Hey!" Trying and failing to dodge your blows, she scrambled from the couch to the opposite end of the room and held out a hand to stop you. "I was just looking out for you!"

"'Looking out for me', my ass!" You hurtled the pillow at her. It hit her square in the face. "Why can't you let me just get some?!"

"I would gladly let you get some if the 'some' you were getting was not from some foreign musician who's gonna leave you alone in a few weeks!"

"I-"

Stopping your reply when you realised that you had no point to argue with, you chose instead to simply groan loudly, then storm off to your bedroom.

Puffing out her cheeks, (Y/B/F) shook her head and placed her hands on her hips. "She'll thank me eventually."

✧✧✧

Later that evening.

Approaching Ryan's room, Brendon exhaled heavily, mentally preparing to get into yet another argument about how he and (Y/B/F) wouldn't stop interferring with Ryan's attempts to get closer to you.

When he got to the door, however, he noticed his friend sitting on the edge of the bed, adoringly staring at a picture on his phone. Squinting, Brendon was able to make out that the picture Ryan was looking at was a picture of you – a candid shot where you were smelling a bunch of blooming flowers.

Hanging back, Brendon allowed his friend some more time. When he eventually spoke, he leaned against the doorframe and folded his arms.

"You're really falling for her, huh?"

Now aware of the presence of his bandmate, Ryan looked up from his phone. Noticing the serious expression on Brendon's face, Ryan realised that for the first time in this situation, he could talk about it without fear of negative pushback.

"Yup."

With an arch of a brow and a shake of his head, Brendon stepped into the room. "You know that there is no scenario in which neither of you end up getting hurt, right?" he sighed.

"Yup."

"So... what are you gonna do?"

Ryan looked down at the picture of you for a moment, and then back up at Brendon.

"I have no fucking idea."

_______________________________

Thank you for reading x

[emo-fanfics-uwu]

keep holding on

ronnie radke x reader

A/N: uwu i know everyone's like "oHMYGOD RONNIE THE BAD BOII" but i honestly love him and he can be so wholesome.

⚠️ warnings: fluff, cursing, implied abuse?, just lots of fluff cause that's what ronnie deserves.

your POV

as you sat around your apartment on a shitty day, you heard a knock at the door.

who in their right mind would come here in the middle of a thunderstorm?

you opened the door to find ronnie, soaking wet and looking a mess. has he been drinking? he was shaking and breathing heavy as he spoke.

"i-i had no where else to go. can i stay? please," he slurred. yep, definitely been drinking.

"course ronnie! c'mon you're freezing and it's pouring out."

you dragged him inside by his sleeve and grabbed a towel, throwing it at his wet head.

"dry yourself off, i'll get you extra clothes," you told him before walking upstairs. as ronnie sat on the couch, he wouldn't admit to himself that he was starting to get emotional. it was a rough day for him and he did not want to cry. he had to stay tough.

you came back with sweatpants and a t-shirt for him to wear. he was zoned out, his head in his hands, the towel above his head. you came over and sat down next to him, hesitantly putting your hand on his shoulder--you knew he hated hugs and affection like that just because he was trying to keep his tough guy appearance. you knew he wasn't like that.

he shrugged your hand off, just as you thought he would, and kept his head in the towel.

"ronnie, you know it's okay to talk to me."

he nodded, still refusing to look up at you.

"ronnie, c'mon. you need to change--"

he suddenly stood up, starting to breathe heavily as he raised his voice, "i know i do! don't you see that? i'm a mess, nobody likes me cause i've pushed everyone away!"

he had never snapped at you before...ever. and he knew better than that with everything you've gone through. when he drinks, he gets defensive and you knew you shouldn't push him past his limit.

"ron, please calm down. i-i didn't mean,,,i didn't mean it like that. i meant to change your clothes. you're gonna get sick--"

"would you,,,what would you care?!"

you sighed, "i care a lot."

he suddenly stepped toward you and yelled, "it's hard enough try walking in my shoes!! i have tried so hard to be a better soul and i still manage to fuck up!"

you flinched and put your hands up to block your face. at that moment, ronnie knew he messed up. he threw his head back and ran a hand through his knotted hair.

he whispered repeatedly, "i'm sorry. i'm so sorry y/n. you know i wouldn't touch you. you know that i would never hurt you. i'm sorry, i didn't mean that. i'm sorry."

he stepped back to give you some space while you lowered your hands.

"i know you wouldn't. it's okay."

"but it's not! i did it again, i messed up," at that point ronnie hit his breaking point. his eyes became glassy and he did something that no one would expect him to do. he cried.

you stood there stunned before walking to him and wrapping your arms around his waist. you thought he would just shrug you off like all the other times but he dug his head into your neck and wrapped his colorful arms around your neck.

you stayed like that for ten minutes while he was letting out his emotions. he had spent so long bottling them in, that you knew this was what he needed to do.

you moved him to sit on the couch and managed to pry him off your arm long enough to get him a bottle of water.

"please don't leave me n/n."

"you know i wouldn't ronnie. do you want to clean up in the bathroom?"

he nodded while you brought him to the bathroom for him to take a shower.

"uh y/n? can you--um can you please stay with me?"

you had never seen him this vulnerable. he was usually outgoing and jokingly flirting with everyone, but now he was too timid to even sit down.

"mhm," you said before both of you stepped in the shower. you ran your hand through his hair, feeling him relax with your touch.

"what happened?"

"people were spreading hate on the new album. i worked hard on it and i don't know. i just,,,what if i'm not cut out for all of this?"

you couldn't believe he doubted his talent. he was amazing. you dropped your hand from his hair to his inked hand.

"you're really doubting that you aren't cut out for music. ronnie, you're amazing. do you know how many people's lives you've saved with your music?"

"probably none."

"i know you've saved mine."

his eyes widened with a questioning look.

"you never told me--"

"there's a lot you've done for me ronnie. and your fans. half of them wouldn't be here if it wasn't for you."

"i can't believe i'm standing here at all, everything is so much to handle sometimes, y'know?"

"i know."

you put your head against his chest, feeling hot water run down your back. he played with the wet strands of your hair and the comfortable silence flooded the shower.

after drying off, you both sat on the couch to watch a movie. you slowly started to fall asleep, ronnie covering you both with a blanket and turning off the movie. before you fell asleep, he kissed you quickly, but passionatly, and whispering a small "goodnight."

sorry, it's pretty late but i wanted to post. i hope this isn't too bad. don't forget to follow me and request different celebrity imagines and stuff (:

stay alive |-/

XOcourt

[domestic-bands]

Ryan: *kisses Brendon's forehead*

Brendon: You missed

Ryan: Nope, I really didn't

[canyousevmyheavydirtysoul]

The Boys Are Back. (MCR x Reader)

note: yes, the title is a high school musical reference. no, i do not have any regrets.

a short imagine in honour of mcr rising from the dead. x (wrote this last year)

_______________________________

"So they are back with a bang – it's an absolute pleasure to have them in the KISS breakfast studio; for those of you just tuning in, we're here with the Jonas Brothers!"

You gave a little cheer and some short claps after your introduction, shifting your focus back to the three guys across from you. After letting them say another short hello to the listeners, you proceeded with the interview.

"Guys, before the break we spoke a little bit about the new album and upcoming tour dates and such, and it's just-" you gestured with your hands as you struggled to find the right words, "it's just so crazy you're back 'cause you guys are just nostalgia for me and for so many people – what is your nostalgia of your- your childhood growing up? 'Cause you are the Jonas Brothers. What is nostalgic for you?"

Leaning back in your seat a little, you relaxed as you let the guys deliver their answer. Your co-host guided them along, asking questions and making conversation. They spoke about various TV shows and music that they held near and dear to their hearts, answering your question to the best of their ability.

"...yeah, there were a lot of punk bands as well that we liked listening to..."

As with any interview, you were expected to contribute to the discussion as much as you could, and so when the answers were winding down, you offered one of your own.

You pointed between you and your co-host. "Both of us were into, uh, My Chemical Romance," you said.

"Oh, yes, totally!" Kevin agreed wholeheartedly.

Nick nodded. "Me too!"

Joe perked up immediately, straightening in his chair. "There's a... I got some dirt!" he informed with a glimmer in his eye and a point of his finger.

"Oh-ho-ho," your co-host wheezed excitedly.

"My Chemical Romance apparently were rehearsing next to us, um, in New York recently, which – I thought they broke up, but... I don't know," Joe recounted their experience with wide eyes and a shrug of his shoulders.

Absoutely shocked by Joe's sudden revelation, all you could offer was a soft gasp and an 'ooooo'.

"That's the gossip," your co-host piped.

"I should join you guys," Joe joked, gesturing around the radio studio.

"You should definitely, yes," you laughed, "You are the plug, we could cross over to you in the states for a little entertainment report; I love that."

Because of the extremely tight schedules of radio shows, you needed to keep the interview moving as quickly and as smoothly as possible, so onto the next question it was.

The remaining five minutes went off without a hitch and before you knew it, you were saying your goodbyes to the brothers and signing off from the show. Pressing a couple buttons and flipping a few switches, you set the ball rolling from a music point of view, lining up a slew of songs to play over the next little while.

As soon as the band had been properly ushered out of the studio and your co-host had run off for a quick bathroom break, you removed your headphones and disconnected your microphone.

Stuffing your hand into your purse, you hurriedly shuffled through the contents in search of your cellphone. Once you had it in your grasp, you wasted no time in connecting a five-way video call.

You chewed on your bottom lip as you watched the dark screen, anxiously waiting for the recipients to answer your call. Not long after, four slightly dazed and sleepy faces stared back at you.

"Guys... they know."

_______________________________

Thank you for reading x

[canyousevmyheavydirtysoul]

Tomorrow’s Problem. (B. Urie x Reader x D. Weekes)

Turning off the engine, you opened up the driver's door and stepped out of your car, then helped your slightly inebriated boyfriends out of their spots on the backseat. They weren't blackout drunk, only nicely buzzed, resulting in the two of them engaging in a languid cuddle session on the leather surface.

Resting your arm on the doorframe, you cocked your head to the side and gave a soft smile at the sight. "Oh, is that how it is? You're gonna hog each other? No cuddles for (Y/N)?" you teased.

"I'll give you more than cuddles, babe," Brendon quipped, shooting you a wink and untangling himself from Dallon before clambering out of the car.

"Promise?" you smirked.

"Promise," he nodded, leaning down to kiss you.

With a scoff, Dallon followed your partner's suit and exited the vehicle. "Now who's hogging, huh?"

Rolling your eyes, you brushed him off with a wave of your head and started up the path to the front door.

"Please, you guys get each other all the time while you're away on tour," you remarked, stopping in front of the door and turning to face your boyfriends, "And what do I get? Yeah, exactly, nothing. Open."

Two confused faces gazed back at you.

"I don't have the keys," they replied in unison.

Your face fell. "Are you kidding me? Neither do I!" You shifted your weight from one foot to the other, holding your arms out in disbelief. "What's wrong with you idiots?"

"What's wrong with us?" Dallon leaned forward and gripped his chest. "You always take the keys! It's your job!"

"Are you kidding?" you growled through gritted teeth, frowning at them, "I specifically said I wasn't taking them this time because I wasn't taking a purse tonight! You never listen to me!"

"Yeah, see, it is your fault because you know we never listen to you!" Brendon quipped, widening his eyes and pointing at accusatory finger at you.

The singer let out a yelp as he ducked to dodge the pebble you'd picked up and tossed at his head.

"I can't believe this," you groaned, shutting your eyes and rubbing your temples, "There's three of us. Three. That's one more than the typical couple, and you're telling me that not one of us remembered to take the fucking house keys?"

The musicians stood silent, awkwardly looking around. They knew full well that it was their fault that you were in this current predicament. You had told them you weren't going to take the keys, but they neglected to submit the important piece of information to memory – they had been too busy playing Fortnite.

Now, all three of you were stuck outside in the chilly night air at seventeen minutes past midnight.

"Hey, (Y/N)?"

"What, Dallon?"

"You still want that cuddle?"

"No, you dumbass," you answered aggressively, pacing up and down as you tried to come up with solutions, "What I want is to get into my freaking house!"

"Okay, okay, calm down, baby," Brendon soothed, stepping forward and rubbing his hands up and down your exposed arms. "We'll fix this, alright?"

"How?"

Brendon's face dropped and he turned his head to the side, looking at Dallon with a worried expression. "How?" he whispered.

"Let's book into a hotel for the night," the bassist suggested, speaking the first idea that come to mind, "You know, that really nice one two blocks west of main? Their sheets are made from Egyptian cotton and everything."

You pursed your lips. "That does sound pretty good..." you mumbled.

The guys, elated at the fact that you were on board with the idea, beamed widely at you and immediately began ushering you towards the car. They were beyond happy to keep you distracted and stop you from remembering the fact that this was their fault.

"Yeah, and we can order room service – strawberries and cream and chocolate cake..." Brendon piled on, placing a kiss on your shoulder as he opened the car door for you.

"They even have a spa," Dallon nodded enthusiastically, helping you into the driver's seat.

Smirking to yourself, you buckled up and prepared for the drive. You were well aware what the two of them were doing – trying to distract you from their transgressions was not a new thing – but you let it slide this time because hey, a night in a five star hotel? Who wouldn't?

"You had me sold at the sheets."

~

"You think they're gonna charge us for these?" Brendon queried, gripping the soft sheets between his fingers as he looked around the bed, "And... the rest of the bedding? 'Cause, I mean, they're gonna have to replace them. We kinda made a mess."

"Mmph," you mumbled, closing your eyes and snuggling closer to him, burying your head in the crook of his neck, "tomorrow's problem."

Brendon chuckled, then placed a couple kisses on your head as he pulled you closer into his bare chest.

"I love you, Bren," you said quietly, beginning to drift off into sleep, "Even though you never listen and are an idiot sometimes. Still love you. Very much."

Dallon re-entered the room at that point, drying his hands off on a hand towel from the bathroom. He barely made a sound as he treaded across the carpet, but you sensed his presence nonetheless.

"You too, Dall. I love you," you informed him, the last three words almost cloaked by a yawn.

"I love you more, babygirl," he smiled, crawling onto bed to kiss your forehead.

Brendon hugged you tighter. "Sleep well, baby." Your eyes fluttered shut and you gave in to the sweet embrace of sleep, the singer looking on lovingly as you settled.

Dallon got off of the bed and began tidying up the mess of clothing strewed around the room, folding them all up and placing them on the dresser for the next day. The last item he picked up was his jacket, and as he did so, something fell out of one of the pockets.

The bassist looked down at object and his eyes went wide. Bending down to pick it up, he called out to Brendon in a whisper.

"What?" Brendon looked over, his eyes widening at the sight of the keys in his boyfriend's hand, "Oh, my god."

Dallon stuffed the metal objects back into the pocket. He and Brendon looked at each other, then at your sleeping face.

"Tomorrow's problem?"

"Tomorrow's problem."

_______________________________

Thank you for reading x

[canyousevmyheavydirtysoul]

Cape Town. (Chapter 6.3) (R. Ross x Reader)

Empty food containers littered the picnic blanket, surrounding your group as everyone lounged around lazily, soaking up the sun and looking out across the greens.

Ryan had his head in your lap (after asking for permission first, of course) as you absentmindedly ran your fingers through his dark hair. The conversations were comprised mostly of small talk and random topics, further cementing the lackadaisical feel in the atmosphere of the garden.

All along the lush, grassy expanse, children ran around playing tag or catch, shrieking and laughing in excitement as if they were having the time of their lives. Your group watched with soft smiles.

"Remember when that was us?" Jon asked, readjusting his sunglasses.

Spencer scoffed, rearranging his position on the blanket. "You mean last month?"

Sneaking her hand into your backpack, (Y/B/F) pulled out a frisbee and held it up for everyone to see. "Could be us right now," she shrugged.

As expected, Brendon was first to jump to his feet, eagerly reaching for the plastic disk.

"Yessssss," he laughed happily, handling the frisbee in his hands, "I haven't played with one of these in, like, forever."

Standing up as well, Spencer lowered his sunglasses and looked over them at you and Ryan, arching his brows as he spoke. "Shall we?"

After sharing a shrug with the musician in your lap, you nodded. "We shall."

Ryan raised himself up and scrambled onto his feet as fast as he could, so that he could hold out a hand to you and help you up.

Dispersing yourselves across the grassy expanse, each of you took up positions and formed a circle. Once everyone was ready, Brendon started off – tossing the frisbree toward Jon.

He caught it without hassle and kept the game going, swiftly swinging it in (Y/B/F)'s direction. The cycle continued, with the frisbree being tossed between each of you.

On the frisbree's fourth trip around the group, things got intense. By some unspoken word, everyone made a concious effort to catch the frisbree as quickly as possible, and toss it on to the next person with super-speed.

Unsurprisingly, it was a bad idea.

It was fine for a little while – fun, even – but then it wasn't.

As the plastic disc approached you, it was as if time had regressed to slow motion, and even though you could see the incoming danger as clear as day, you couldn't bring yourself to move out of its way.

The frisbree was only inches away from colliding with your face now, and you opened your mouth to let out a small gasp. Accepting your fate, you shut your eyes and winced, bracing for impact – which never came.

Confused as to why you weren't currently on the ground writhing in pain, you cautiously opened your eyes, only to see Ryan standing in front of you with the frisbree clutched tightly in his right hand.

"Thanks," you smiled weakly, shoulders slumping with relief.

"No worries."

"Uh, if you two are done being disgusting, can we continue with the game please?" Brendon's voice filtered through the air around you.

Irritated, Ryan spun around and hurtled the frisbree, sending it soaring through the air at top speed and tremendous height. Not wanting to lose the game by failing to catch the disc, Brendon immediately began sprinting towards it, head looking up and arms outstretched.

"I got it, I got it, I – AH!"

He did indeed get it... and accidently fell into the huge pond in the process.

With a collective gasp, the rest of you rushed over to the water, being extra careful so as to avoid falling in, too. Teetering on the edge of the soily slope, you peered across the pond at Brendon.

The singer was flapping his arms about erractically, yelps spilling from his lips as he tried to prevent himself from going under.

"I'm drowning!" he yelled, water splashing all around, "I'm drowning! Help!"

Narrowing his eyes, Ryan gazed down at the water. The rest of you followed suit, realisation dawning on everyone.

"Brendon..." the guitarist said calmy, body relaxing.

"Help! Help me!"

"Brendon!" Ryan called again, wanting his friend to calm down and pay attention to what he was trying to say.

"HELP!"

"BRENDON!" all of you yellled in unison, "JUST STAND UP!"

Evidently, five people yelling at him was enough to capture Brendon's focus, and neutralise his chaotic energy long enough for him to realise that he was, in fact, not drowning.

"Oh," Brendon said, standing up and looking at the water, which he could now see only reached his knees. "GUYS, I'M OKAY!" he continued excitedly.

"I'll go fetch the clothes," Ryan sighed, already starting the long walk back to the car.

Confused, you cocked your head to the side. "You just carry a change of clothes around?"

Jon, Spencer and Ryan all turned to stare at you with unblinking, deadly serious faces. "We learned the hard way to always carry extra clothes for Brendon."

You and (Y/B/F) skewed your mouths and nodded in understanding. "Makes sense," she muttered.

"Well, I've got the keys," you pointed out, holding them up, "I'll come too."

"No, I'll go," (Y/B/F) butt in, "I need to fetch my sunglasses, anyway."

You gave her a blank stare. "You're literally wearing them."

"Shut up, (Y/N)," she clicked her tongue at you, then grabbed the keys from your hand and linked her arm with Ryan's, "Let's go, puppy."

"Puppy..." he mumbled, furrowing his brows in puzzlement but not resisting when (Y/B/F) led him away.

Rolling your eyes, you placed your hands on your hips and headed over to help Brendon out of the pond.

~

"What's taking him so long?" Spencer queried, looking over his shoulder at the winding path that led to the restrooms.

You had directed Brendon to them so that he could change clothing close to half an hour ago already, and the fact that he had yet to return was mildly concerning to all of you.

"Maybe he stopped to catch a smoke," Jon suggested with a shrug, helping himself to a piece of candy from the packet on the blanket your group was sitting on.

"Nah, his cigs are in the backpack," Ryan pointed out, moving to stand up, "I'll go look for him."

With what was probably his tenth sigh of the day, Ryan started down the path to look for his friend. The rest of you watched him walk away; almost at the exact moment that he disappeared from view, Brendon reappeared – approaching from the opposite direction to which he left thirty minutes ago, and followed by a hoard of tiny people.

"Guys, look, I made friends," he beamed, proudly looking back at the group of small children hanging around him.

There was utter silence for a good while as all of you stared, unblinking and in complete shock, at the singer. Then, everyone started yelling at once.

"Brendon, what the hell?"

"Where did you get them from?"

"You can't just kidnap a bunch of little kids!"

"You aren't the Pied Piper of Cape Town!"

"Chill out, damn," Brendon pursed his lips, then turned and pointed at a woman that was trailing closely behind them, "Their teacher is right there."

Sure enough, the woman stepped up with a small wave and began guiding the children away. "It was nice meeting you, but we have a bus to catch."

"Okay, see you at the show!" he smiled, waving and hugging the kids goodbye.

"Definitely," she smirked. (Y/B/F) tossed her a filthy look.

Turning back to look at your group, Brendon grinned widely and jutted a thumb over his shoulder. "She's coming to the show."

"Yeah," Jon nodded, "we figured."

"Ryan's been gone a while now," you noted, checking the time on your wristwatch, "You think he got lost?"

"Oh lord," (Y/B/F) groaned, "The last thing we need is a lost puppy in Kirstenbosch."

Clambering to your feet, you slipped on your sunglasses and started for the path. "Alright, I'm gonna go find him."

"Wait!" (Y/B/F) called, struggling to get up, "I'll come with-"

But you were already out of sight.

_______________________________

Thank you for reading x

[emo-fanfics-uwu]

man life is weird

Dan howell x reader

warnings: angst: lots of it, profanities, mentions of depression, LOTS OF FLUFF, literally one kiss.

"dan, i didn't mean to-"

"no y/n. save it."

"please stop yelling dan."

this is where phil chimed in, "dan stop it."

"what the fuck have i done? she's cancelled two interviews with us this week and hasn't gone to her bbc show in a month," dan pushed phil's hand away when he placed it on his shoulder in an attempt to calm him down.

"just let her explain, stop pressuring her-"

"phil stop sticking up for her! she hasn't done anything around here in so long. this is the first conversation either of us have had with her in a week. she's avoiding us phil!"

phil looked taken aback by dan's sudden outburst. you had your laptop open in front of you with a message from youtube you had recieved today.

looking between the two, you said, "i need to film a video. please leave."

"just another opportunity for you to avoid us."

you felt like crying right now. you locked the door, set up your camera, and did what youtube had asked. their email had said:

we understand that you are going through a rough patch. we don't mind your absence from events, we completely understand and don't want you to worry. however, we would like to know if you can make a video on your mental illness for mental illness awareness. we also have an event next thursday for mental illness we would like you to attend. it's interviews, q and a with fans, and meet and greets. we don't want to force you into anything so take all the time you need.

you looked into the camera giving a slight wave. "hey there. i'm so sorry for a lot of things. one, i've been very inactive this month which i will get into in just a minute. and two, i look like absolute trash. yes i know what you're thinking," you spun around in your chair, dramatically throwing up your arms, "i haven't existed in forever!"

you smiled the slightest, "well as you all know, i always make jokes, i love to make others happy like you guys. but sometimes it's hard for me to keep myself happy."

you pulled up a little slip of paper. "this is my doctor's note," you pointed at the camera, "shout out to you doctor margaret! now this is no ordinary doctor's note. for i, the happiest person alive, have depression. yes i know you're thinking, i'm faking it. it's for publicity."

you ran a hand through your greasy hair with a few tears blurring your eyesight, "i'm not. i wish it wasn't there but it is. i've dealt with it for years. none of my friends ever knew and most of my family hasn't known either. just my mom and doctor. well and now you guys of course."

you sighed and thought of what to say next while twirling a bracelet on your wrist.

"i've been seeing my doctor this last month. i haven't exactly left my room much besides that. i will be attending, drum roll please, the mental illness awareness event next thursday that youtube is hosting," a few tears had slipped out but you laighed before continuing, "i hope to see you there. stay alive frens!"

you didn't edit the video, you just posted it, then took a nap.

you awoke to the bed shaking up and down and someone stradding you.

"y/n, y/n, y/n, i'm so sorry. i didn't mean it, i didn't. you know that. please, i'm sorry. you should've told us we could've helped you-"

"shh dan. it's alright."

"no it isn't. you should've told phil and i. we would've helped you. we could've-

"just lay down with me," you mumbled.

"w-what?"

"you heard me. get down here and lay with me," you looked at dan who had his mouth open.

"i literally yelled at you earlier and you want to spend time with me?"

"yes."

"but-"

you grabbed his arm, "it's ok."

he looked at the clock and turned back you with a soft expression. hesistantly he said, "i'm staying the night here, let me change first."

he came back in boxers and a large t-shirt before getting under the comforter with you. at first you were both on your backs, side by side before you turned over and looked at him, dan doing the same.

he gently pressed his forehead to yours before lacing your hands. it was calming.

"i'm really sorry," he whispered.

"it's alright dan. stop worrying," you leaned up to kiss his lips before putting your head against his chest.

"i love you n/n."

"i love you too dan."

that night you both happily fell asleep in each other's arms.

i'm back guys. requests are open again, and i have about 10 fics that are drafted right now. i'm finishing up the part two of the previous dan howell fic. hang tight loves. if you need anything message me (that goes for anyone, i don'f care who you are. please talk to me if you're going theough something.) stay alive💛

XOcourt