inspired by riverdale & the jimmy fallon peanuts sketch comes another edgy reboot of a wholesome childhood favorite. (it's also an au. idk i haven't decided on whether i actually do this, i just like the vibes)
synopsis: the gang is all grown up and have decided to reunite in scenic cousins beach. isabella garcia-shapiro, now a renowned meteorologist/reporter, grapples with past feelings resurfacing once she sees childhood crush phineas flynn. even further complicating things is ferb fletcher, fresh off another breakup with on-off girlfriend vanessa doofenshmirtz and also potentially swatting off advances from isabella's best friend, adyson sweetwater. not the first torrential love story to be hosted by cousins beach, but it would be one for the books once the rest of the gang shuffles in and phineas' latest plan brings them all together -- and maybe tear them apart for good.
fancast: mariel molino as isabella garcia-shapiro / luke newberry as phineas flynn / freddie thorp as ferb fletcher
Lili Reinhart Shares Why She Only Writes Love Letters for Cole Sprouse
Lili Reinhart isn't just an actress. She's a (published) poet now, too.
Lili Reinhart doesn’t write poems for just anybody. There’s one specific person who gets that honor, and it’s none other than her beau and Riverdale costar Cole Sprouse.
“I write poems for Cole. But to be honest, I don’t really write them for anyone else. I think it’s a romantic thing. It can be quite intimate,” the Riverdale actress told InStyle at the Tiffany & Co. Men’s launch party in Los Angeles Friday night.
The 23-year-old actress, who has said she views writing as a form of therapy, penned a poem to Sprouse for his birthday on Instagram in August. Earlier this week, Reinhart announced that she’ll be releasing a poetry book called Swimming Lessons on May 5, 2020. On Wednesday, the book shot to the number one spot on Amazon’s new releases list for American Poetry. Reinhart said she found out about the news on Friday while she was on a plane and could not be more grateful to her fans.
“They don’t even know if I can write. They just put their faith in me, and I couldn’t ask for anything more. It’s very kind,” she said.
Reinhart described her book as a “work of fiction” that will touch upon falling in love, dealing with heartbreak, and coping with mental-health battles in the public eye.
For the event, the actress accessorized with plenty of jewelry from Tiffany & Co., saying that she was happy to support the “iconic brand” during her few days off from work. Tiffany Men’s, which debuted October 1, features men’s jewelry, watches, and home accessories.
a/n: okay okay listen. one: i was gonna do the whole album but my brain shorted out so really it’s about .. six tracks? idk im gonna be listening to this album all season so who knows. um.. two: i got carried away writing them so they’re longer than my usual brief notes and hcs. uh third: i started with my man. i larb him. and without further ado, my second attempt at writing tgm fics.
track one: willow ( aka “wreck my plans, avalone” )
to others, you're a one-track mind from a small town who worked her way into the best law firm in the state. stern, collected, and with nerves of steel that have faced many challenging cases -- and won more than half.
your girlfriends think you're one icicle short of being an actual ice queen, but even they don't know your one weakness. one of the few sources of warmth in your life.
lieutenant billy avalone. well, he was just billy to you.
you've known him for years. your families always crossing paths with each other. you were in the same school district, attended the same church, and even hung out in the same few family friendly spots in town.
there was a part of you that thought that he was the coolest guy you've ever met. not just his looks or what you thought of the people he hung around, but just the way he was.
everything he did always just seemed so..interesting.
you'd told your sister this one time and she just laughed. "i think you like this guy."
you shook your head. you don't do crushes. it was never really your scene.
for most of your life, you've dedicated yourself to working hard and staying on track to success. planners, to-do lists, moodboards, and even watched a ted talk or two.
it was no surprise that you were voted 'most likely to succeed' during your senior year, though you'd pretend to not have peeked into others' yearbooks and saw that some had scribbled 'most snobby' on it too.
but -- and you'd never really admit it to anyone -- for billy, you'd drop it all.
he brought out your silly and your most normal. spending late nights out just to drive around and look at the world differently. photobooth pictures and screaming while on the rides at the town fair.
red exes and erased penciled plans in your planners was what came out of your time with billy. you could always reschedule a meeting or two. could afford to finish homework a few hours later than initially intended.
none of that changed when you would see each other years later.
even with your busy job, you'd call out from work if it meant getting coffee or spending a night in with him to watch movies. block out weekends to go on spontaneous road trips or catch the earliest flight to whatever vacation spot he swore was paradise.
he’d even gotten you into a musical festival or two, even if wasn’t typically your scene.
and you'd really think other people were none the wiser until your sister, of all people, pointed it out when she was staying over at your place one time.
she was over for the weekend and you had agreed upon learning that billy's shore leave was pushed off to a later date.
it was the way you'd look at your phone just a tad bit too much while the two of you were supposed to be gossiping that your sister pushed and pushed for you to talk about one thing and another about him. just enough pieces for the little puzzle she'd eventually piece together to conclude that you were hoping that billy's shore leave would be right as planned.
"i'd be offended if i didn't think it was cute. and also, i called it. years ago!"
again, you refused. though the blush on your face was harder to hide and you grabbed your phone to sit on the couch instead and opted to hide your face behind a pillow.
"i mean, really, what's the worst that could happen if you just..asked?"
and you looked at her, blinking. you've pondered about a confession quite a few times. often concluding that it was best to retain a friendship instead of risking it all. you voiced this to her, though you weren't quite sure you trusted your own voice right now. you sounded vulnerable and my god, did that feel foreign.
"i don't wanna gamble on what we have."
she scoffed, "honey, with all the years i've known you, this is the only person i've seen you take a gamble on. i mean, you don't take days off for me. you don't push plans around when i'm here and again, not offended, just .. kinda means he's special, you know?"
you nod, before feeling the couch shift as your sister joins you on the couch and grabs the remote to look for something to watch. she'd settled on a rerun of this one show.
"when is he free again?"
"he said he'll be coming next weekend." you look down at your phone again.
she hums. "it's time." though she puts a hand up defensively when she sees you staring. "just saying."
'i learned that when something dope comes along, you gotta lock it down!'
"jason's right, you know. you gotta lock that dope man down."
you just shook your head and buried it on your pillow. "what does jason know?"
"well, for starters. he kinda looks like your man. so that oughta count for something."
and while it was ridiculous, it helped you lighten up a little. and while you didn't quite know what would happen next weekend, it didn't matter.
maybe it was really time for him to melt the ice queen down completely, no matter what happens.
a/n: oh this was fun. it was pretty fun. and i love javy so..so much. did u guys know greg’s gonna be in the new mission impossible movie? thats rad. anyway my words got away from me
track three: gold rush ( aka “may y/n be swallowed by a whale before she admits her feelings” )
the story's simple. your mom knew his mom and that's how the two of you met. standing by awkwardly while both of your moms used the moment to catch up with each other at the supermarket.
you were about twelve years old and itching to just go home and delve into this new book you'd borrowed from the library while javy was this punk-looking thirteen year old with a perma-frown, as if his mother just dragged him out of bed for a trip to the grocery store.
she did, but you didn't know that then. you really just wanted to go home; feeling bad for this boy wasn't really at the top of your list.
but when the two of you locked eyes after your mothers have bid goodbye to each other, you'd be lying if you didn't think he was interesting. or cute. or both.
it was both. who knew mrs. machado's son was actually cute if he just, well, stopped frowning?
but then it was your turn to frown when you realized that this was the same boy that your friend had been gushing about the weekend before. apparently, he and his little posse of boys liked to hang around the mall and your friend wanted to see what all the hype was about. you remember refusing to come, thinking that it was a waste of time. you'd rather score tickets at the arcade and come home with something nicer than a boy.
you spent the ride home looking out the window, some old tune about love on the radio that your mother idly sang along to.
it was the first romance-related crisis you've ever had. and you hated that you were placed in this precarious position of having eyes for the same guy your friend did.
and you dreaded the walk to school the morning after.
,
"y/n? hello? earth to my best friend?" your best friend's lips were glossed. hair done up in this beautiful style that you wished to emulate but you were too scared to try. not even - hell, not especially - to gain some guy's attention.
but the pit in your stomach when you think of his face ...
"i feel kinda sick." you groaned.
she rolled her eyes and just grabbed your arm to have you fall in step with her.
"well, don't puke or something. or at least wait until after lunch. we can both call home and get picked up early!"
you wanted to ask about what was so special about lunch, but figured that your question would be answered soon enough.
and the answer wasn't what you wanted.
as relationships went in the precarious teenage years, part of you knew that this wasn't gonna last. you loved your best friend, but she grew tired of boys quicker than you finished your jawbreakers.
and the painfully executed public display of affection you saw between your best friend and javy during lunch over your homemade sandwich was just the first stone in the short paved steps of how your best friend handled life with her paramours. she’d sat on his lap and gave him a kiss or so, but you noticed that when she was distracted with a conversation or two with someone that wasn’t you or javy, he would stare right at you.
you figured that it was just the disbelief that his new girlfriend’s best friend was the same dork he’d met the day before.
you did end up calling your mom after lunch to take you home, your best friend doing the same thing. soon enough, you find yourself walking home together. you felt more queasy than anything else.
"so .. didn't i tell you? he's cute, right?" she inquired, reapplying her lip gloss for the umpteenth time.
"uhh .. yeah. he's ..he's cute."
"so i have your support?"
and when you didn't respond quick enough, she held an arm out to stop you from walking.
you looked at her arm, then at her face.
she wasn't stupid or selfish. sure, you dressed a little plainer than she did and was just a tad bit quieter but you two were attached at the hip. she favored you more than anything. she favored your thoughts and opinions over anyone else's.
your support has always meant everything.
and even if you wanted to put down javy as your first-ever full-blown crush, you favored her too. so you nodded.
"you have my support."
,
years after, you'd think back to that moment with great fondness.
you were right. the two of them didn't last. not that your relationship with either soured after.
it remained the same. you and your best friend continued to live life together. and while she eventually knew of your raging crush on javy, she was all too happy to help you find your own person, just as a supportive best friend does. she does it year in and out; all out of love, really.
your mother and javy's mother also started to hang out more, which meant that javy came over a lot. or you came over to the machado household more.
the two of you started to talk more and you found out that he was more than just the frown he had on his face when you first met. that he was more than the too cool for school posse he hung out with at the mall. that he was a total mama's boy and that, while it was annoying at first, he started to like it when your mothers started hanging out more.
it meant that there would be someone at home to hang out with that was his age. someone new. someone he didn't have to put up some kind of front with.
he was a lot more warm. liked to joke around and play harmless pranks on unsuspecting people. laughed a lot more than you thought he did. a lot more silly than you thought or from how you’ve seen him around his friends or your best friend.
he also didn’t like how trapped he felt in the role he had made for himself. a tough, cool dude who had to keep up appearances and make do with what he had after his father had left him and his mom a year prior. the two of you sat on a plush rug, chips and dip in between the two of you as he had recalled the day his father left. he bit his bottom lip, a nervous tic that you’ve noticed the more you spent time with him.
the lull of the old louis armstrong vinyl playing interwoven with your mothers’ laughter coming from the living room made you all too aware of the room you were in.
seventeen and eighteen years young. basketball posters on the wall. droplets of condensation on the top of your hand from the beer cans that javy had managed to swipe from the garage fridge and tossed at you, swearing that they were just way better than plain old sprites and root beers.
“the beer’s bitter.” you said, finally breaking the silence after you realized that you haven’t spoken up in a while.
“yeah, beer’s like that.” he had laughed, taking a swig from his own drink before nudging you. a gesture encouraging you to drink more.
that particular year went on.
truth is, years after initially meeting javy and his squad, you and your best friend had been unknowingly inducted into one of the cooler social spheres in your school.
so it wasn’t a surprise that for every school event, there would be gaggles of girls just wanting to be asked out by the four young men.
same for you and your best friend, though they were all frivolous little dates. none of them were ever serious; none of them paralleled the crazy feeling you felt when you had first met javy.
the only surprise was how your own best friend wanted javy to ask you out.
“but .. didn’t you guys used to date?”
she scoffed, her glossed lips pouting. “used to. it’s all in the past. we were in middle school! come on, y/n.”
but you were still unsure. that, and to be perfectly honest, competing was never really your thing.
you liked single player games. playing skee ball by yourself. you put your hand down when somebody else already raised theirs and you think that they could give a better answer during the lecture.
and you sure as hell didn’t want to compete with a dozen other girls that would stare daggers at you at the first wind of having another competitor in the arena for javy’s attention.
and that’s if they haven’t already stopped staring daggers and wishing pain on you for even being in his inner social circle.
you were about eighty percent sure that one of your nightmares has been being on ‘the bachelor’, too.
you stared at javy across the way, watching as he leaned against his locker, surrounded by his boys. after a second, he caught your gaze and he waved, flashing a grin.
“you have my support. you know that, please know that.” your best friend whispered right at your ear.
the last thing you remember after was your best friend tapping the back of your shoulder repeatedly.
,
you turned around, holding this big bouquet of flowers and feeling oh so erratic and nervous and all the goddamn synonyms in the entire fucking thesaurus–
“y/n! y/n! where are you?! i need – oh my god, i need my bouquet! hand it over!” it was the shrill voice, such chaos emanating from your best friend.
you cursed your heels as you walked as fast as you could to where she was, handing the bouquet to her.
even while an emotional wreck, her glossed lips and beautiful hair distracted the world, as it always did. her wedding dress was as perfect as it could be; your maid-of-honor one matching but not upstaging.
it was crazy. the two of you almost into your thirties and you get to watch her marry the love of her life. her actual person. the one, that she’s always harped on and on about. and while you had a slight cynical streak, it was pretty hard to keep when you see her with her lover. the two of them loved each other, it was obvious. it almost made you jealous.
before you left the room, she grabs your arm and pulls you close. her lips almost brushing your ear before she speaks up, “so .. this guy.. i have your support, right?”
you pulled back and looked at her, mustering the best smile you could give under stress. “you have my full support. trust me, he’s great.”
after the initial stress, the ceremony goes off without a hitch. soon enough, everyone’s ushered into the reception.
a few dances here, some teary-eyed family speeches there, and you find yourself helping to clean up some of the mess before you would make your way back to your hotel room.
the sound of someone clearing their throat caused you to turn around.
it was javy, dressed in his uniform.
your eyes widened. you saw that he was in the list, but you’ve craned your neck so many times during the ceremony and the reception that you knew that you would’ve seen him if he was there.
“sorry, i was .. really late.” oh, well, there’s that.
“it’s okay. um ..did you say hi to them already?” you craned your neck again. this time, looking for the bride or even, the groom.
“uh, yeah. i gave them my gift and apologized. honestly, i think she’s just glad this whole thing is over. weddings seem..stressful.”
you had to laugh, “yeah, they are. i’ve been busting my ass for about a year now over this engagement.” the year in question was a year you had seen him less. things change. people grow. people get jobs. and javy gains new obligations the further he gets into his career.
“well, seems that this one’s done for. you can breathe now.” he’d joked. you nodded, folding up the tablecloth in your hands. “yeah, finally.”
you took a few steps to the nearest table to set the tablecloth on it before turning back to him. “so .. are you staying long or do you have to leave soon?”
he shrugged, “up to you. i’ll stay as long as you like.”
you hummed, turning back around to fix the tablecloth that didn’t really need any fixing but god, you wanted to scream. only he could say those kind of things to you and have your nerves fraying like a full wig from the static electricity of children’s playgrounds.
“do you wanna get a drink? i’ll pay.” he finally spoke up, finding that while he appreciated the silence around you, this one wasn’t as comfortable.
you glanced back at him and gave a small smile. “well, you are paying.”
as the two of you were about to leave, you saw the dj packing up his equipment.
tapping javy on the chest to get his attention, you told him about your want to tip the man for doing a great job on the event. and that, yes, he was paid, but you were pretty sure that there were so many people that requested songs that you felt a little bad.
“what, you don’t got money?” he asked, though he’s already reaching into his own pocket.
you frowned, “i left it in my hotel room, javy. this dress isn’t really meant for holding stuff, y’know.”
he shrugs, “that’s fair. here, some few dollar bills to spare–” he’d begun before his wallet drops, you rushing to catch it in time but sadly, it drops to the floor.
it’s open when it lands, your eyes skimming through the tiny picture inserted on the side.
it was javy and you. prom night. a tiny printed picture that your best friend had no doubt had developed since you remember the moment fondly.
he had asked you to be his date, right there at the door before the entire group went in. somehow, you found yourself saying yes and amidst the cheers from your shared friend group, he had pulled you in for a picture. your best friend at the ready with her flash film camera.
javy had pulled you close to him, both hands on your waist while you had both of yours on his chest. he had the biggest grin on his face as the click signals a picture taken. it was the happiest you’ve felt in forever, laughing as he never let go of you until you reminded him that the two of you still needed to go inside the building for the actual prom.
“y/n?”
“you still have it.” you stated, picking up the wallet and holding it closer.
while you couldn’t see it, javy broke into a grin. “never left my wallet, actually.”
you looked up at him, only to see that he had already moved. he struck up a short conversation with the dj and gave him the money before making his way back to you.
“so..drinks?” was his only inquiry before he found your arms wrapped around his neck and he was finally being kissed by the woman he liked.
after pulling back, you looked right into his eyes. “it never left your wallet?”
you had said it so softly that javy wasn’t initially sure that you’d said it. he shook his head in response. you tilted your head slightly. “why not? why .. me?”
his hands on your waist pulled you in closer. “why not you?”
this time, you shrugged. “just .. “
and a badly-clipped montage of all the times you’ve seen javy with other people plays in your head. on how he always seemed to look right at you, questioning. how every time you think about taking your chance, you just never wanted to jump in the gold rush that was this man’s appeal.
because after prom, the two of you graduated. then life got in the way. and even with the reassurance that he liked you, wanted you..you just didn’t feel confident enough to take a step towards him.
until now.
“nothing, i guess. i..how..when did you know? that, you know, you…liked me?”
“honestly?”
“honestly.”
he bit his lip, the way he would before he was gonna tell you something that’s been in his mind for a while. “since our moms stopped each other at the grocery store.”
your eyes widened, before you looked down and bit your own lip momentarily.
upon looking back up, you stared right at his eyes again. “i like you too.”
“god, i sure hope so. otherwise, we’ll be making out in an almost empty room for no reason.” javy replied before pulling you in for another kiss.
so the story wasn’t simple in terms of detail. but in the end, all that ever mattered was that you and javy liked each other.
( cue your mothers rejoicing when the news of the two of you dating reached them. clinking glasses of wine over sunday brunch and shit. )
summary: an anthology of concepts featuring select characters from the top gun franchise & songs from the album evermore by taylor swift
a/n: i figured i needed one of these since i’m up to track two already. more on the way! ( at least until six, that is. tbd on the rest as of the time of typing )
track one: willow ( feat. lieutenant billy ‘fritz’ avalone )
a/n: wrote the initial draft after watching an episode of quantum leap. yall raymond is so good in it?? and if i could get myself back to giffing again, i could make logan aus. anyway happy top gun fall! let’s get our hearts broken :)
track two: champagne problems ( aka “i broke my own heart writing this” )
his callsign harkens back to a blissful, serene afternoon back at your shared alma mater. well, it was a blissful, serene afternoon before you had foolishly tripped over something and in a swift second, worksheets and notes flew around you like giant confetti for an incoming pity party. you felt that it disturbed the peaceful scenery you had been enjoying. that, and the glass face of your watch had cracked upon impacting the ground after you’d tripped. great.
you felt that you had disturbed it and you felt a heavy weight in your heart for being such an embarrassment and why were you so clumsy and -- well, your thoughts never did finish when a young man came out of nowhere and offered to help you with your notes. so.. coordinated and orderly and he'd returned most of the papers to you before you could even think about asking for his name.
"i'm logan. logan lee. we have sociology together." he introduced himself anyway. he had a great smile, you thought.
you ended up seeing more of his smile as the two of you became friends, later study buddies, then eventually, lovers.
logan had told you of his dreams to fly. how he thinks that mankind was meant to touch the heavens. you thought it was the most romantic thing in the world. you thought he was the most romantic man in the world.
he’d shown it consistently, not just with his words but his actions. lavish dinners both in his apartment and when you both go out to restaurants. nights spent at his place cuddled together on a plush sofa. he looked after you and made you feel special. in turn, you helped him wherever possible. loved him with what you had.
truth is, there was a part of you that felt like it had to end at some point. logan was nearly perfect in so many ways. the problem was that you didn't think you were.
always feeling like you were two steps behind, lagging in what should be a path that you could be walking in side-by-side with him.
you'd found yourselves perusing through the school archives one day. one of you had some project due for a humanities class when you came across some history about the dorm you had stayed in during your first year at yale.
"huh. turns out it was a mental institution back in the day." logan noted, causing you to give a wry smile and to utter out a reply before you could stop yourself. "well, looks like it's made for me then."
you could feel his eyes boring into you, a suspended smile before he cleared his throat and carried onto other information about other things. the silence from that moment never did leave your mind.
failing a class or two led to you graduating later than him. then the dinners with his family when you finally let him introduce you made you feel out of place. not awful, per se, just....inadequate.
the lee family were nice enough, but they all had that air to them; or maybe it was just amplified insecurity stemming from years of hearing (and listening) to the voices in your head.
that they were better than you, this whole family of overachievers. legacy graduates from well-repute universities and their accomplishments displayed alongside the goofy childhood pictures of logan that both his mom and sister were all too eager to share after dinner. the exchanges were warm, but it stopped there. it was as if you couldn’t quite reach out or connect.
you never did tell logan after that maybe spending more time with his family was in the cards for you. you couldn’t. not after they had been so welcoming and nice. how could you even explain that it might not have been enough?
however, about a month or two before the holidays, logan had planned for the two of you to spend some time somewhere in the mountains. he had rented this gorgeous cabin; something out of a magazine that you'd read at the doctor's office before your sessions.
upon seeing the rest of his family's cars parked outside when you both arrived, you could already tell something was off.
logan's family was fancy. however, they were not throw-a-party-whenever-they-like kind of fancy. strike one.
the bottle of dom perignon on the foyer table meant business and you weren't sure it was the kind of business you liked. you and logan would never splurge for something like that, for whatever reason. strike two.
and while the two of you liked to dance, you usually did it in the privacy of your apartments. this slow tune guiding the two of you into a familiar, yet nervous, dance could almost bring tears to your eyes. and not the happy kind. strike three.
"you had made me the happiest man for all these years we've been together..." was how it started. the rest of it seemed to blur together. his warm smile, his romantic words..
it didn't hit you that the look in his eyes turned from strikingly loving to concerningly desparate until he was on both knees, your hand in one of his and his other one holding a box containing the most beautiful ring you've ever seen laid neatly inside.
"please..i want you to marry me."
you let out a breath you didn't realize you were holding and you pulled your hand back.
your lips quivered, "i'm sorry. i'm..i'm so sorry, logan. i .."
it didn’t register that the heels that clicked against the floor was yours until you realized that you were slowly stepping away from him, his pained expression slowly blurring as tears took over before you turned and all but ran away. "i.. i'm sorry. i’m so, so sorry..."
cinderella was one of your favorite fairy tales as a child. the part where she ran when the clock struck midnight gave you a thrill when you first read it. inwardly cheering her on to get home before the world could find out that she really wasn’t the princess they thought she was. hoping for her to be safe, away from the glaring judgment of the world she lived in. this felt like your cinderella moment, but you were grown enough to know that it wouldn’t have a happy ending.
upon returning to your shared room, you had packed your things and left almost immediately. out the backdoor through the kitchen and you walked. through the winds and the dropping temperatures, you walked until you had reached a convenience store in order to gain your bearings and call a cab to the nearest airport. buy the last ticket for a flight back to your apartment.
no more words needed to be said.
you just weren't ready.
years later, you'd hear about logan again from mutual friends. they said he'd found someone new. admittedly, some of them think that the new one looked like you.
they said he also managed to get into this prestigious program called ‘top gun’. high chance that he had finally flown like he’s always wanted, like he’s always told you he would.
there was a time he promised to fly you; promised he’d make you see the world differently. that the world was so much more beautiful once you’ve seen it from up high. there was a time you would’ve agreed.
sitting on your desk was the watch that had a crack on it, back from the day you two first met. he had offered to get it fixed, but you couldn’t bring yourself to have it done. call it practicality or some weird sense of sentimentality, but the damn thing still functioned. and now, after all these years, it did the double duty of reminding you of him.
you made circles on the fogged up windows of your apartment; light snow in the northern states reminded you of that night. and while it was painful to remember just how much you've hurt and how much he's hurt, you preferred all of this over the what if.
because the what if wasn’t a happy ending. you knew that yourself. it would just be a bandaid to a much bigger problem.
and you knew that you'd rather have him be happy, even if wasn't with you.
