I Think I Have A Type…

DAMN MICK, here we have our new Mr. Ultimate Rizzler (I know it’s not that deep but still) I was bored and came to harass him but apparently he had other plans for me 😭(yeah I still use c.ai and I’m supposed to revise for my exams wtf am I doing.)

Asf

Hell yeah, Brian.

sadly I think it’s my curse, guys, cuz I’m not sure that someone will read my yap (well at least I will Lmao)

“𝑺𝒐𝒓𝒓𝒚 𝒂𝒃𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒃𝒐𝒚𝒇𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒅…𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒔𝒆 “𝒎𝒖𝒔𝒄𝒍𝒆𝒔”𝒅𝒊𝒅𝒏’𝒕 𝒉𝒆𝒍𝒑 𝒎𝒖𝒄𝒉.” - 𝑰𝒛𝒛𝒚 𝑺𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒅𝒍𝒊𝒏(𝒅𝒐𝒆𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒄𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒔)

“𝑵𝒐𝒘 𝑰 𝒔𝒆𝒆 𝒔𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈…𝒓𝒆𝒅.” - 𝑨𝒙𝒍 𝑹𝒐𝒔𝒆(𝒅𝒐𝒆𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒌𝒊𝒍𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈)

“Good swimmer”

(Not really a) Fun fact (nobody asked for): So basically when I was a kid, my dad was driving me somewhere and like there was that one song that came up, it was “Something Special” by De-Phazz. So we were talking about the people mentioned in that song and how funny Pat Appleton used references in it like Doris Day ect. And when the first refrain came up, I heard “Brian jones” and I asked my dad who it was. And he told me “Brian? Brian Jones? Yeah, he was a really good swimmer” (HELP MY DAD-)and like since then I remembered him like this and years later when I grew up a little bit and started listening to The Rolling Stones. I heard Brian jones again, and I was like: what? Isn’t it the swimmer? So I started my search and found out who he is and how he died…and you should have seen my reaction when I realized many years later that Brian Jones isn’t a swimmer, and my dad is clearly the biggest dark humorist of this century.😭😭🔫

That one refrain btw(Brian fans let’s cry together):

“If there's no chance to reach you

No bridge, no boat, no stones

Then I would swim the waters

Just like Brian Jones”

ℚ𝕦𝕖𝕖𝕟 𝕠𝕗 𝕞𝕪 𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕥𝕥𝕪 𝕤𝕔𝕙𝕠𝕠𝕝 𝕡𝕣𝕠𝕞

!Teenage! Izzy stradlin/ reader

(Basically Jeffrey Isbell in that fanfic)

Tags: High School, Prom Night, 1980s, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, First Meetings, Rejection, Popular Kids vs Outcasts, Dancing, Music References, Rolling Stones, Led Zeppelin, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Getting Together, Meet-Cute, One Shot, Happy Ending, Teen Romance, Second Person POV, Reader Insert and just izzy it’s already a tag.

Description: When prom night turns into a disaster of rejection and humiliation, two outcasts meet on a park bench. She in her ruined sequined dress, he with his crumpled bouquet meant for someone else. Both wounded by the popular kids who chose others, they find unexpected comfort in each other's company. What starts as shared misery becomes an impromptu dance under the stars, proving that sometimes the best moments happen when you least expect them.

a/n: My exams are eating my ass now and I’m tweaking out for them as if I’m going to fight with a literal dragon wtf. This fanfic came to me when I was looking at my old prom photos from middle school (yeah we have those) and I was like: hell yeah. Let’s not sleep that night and write something about our man Izzy, cause once again wtf not. My sleep schedule is already ruined because I catch a real inspiration here so enjoy 🫶🏻

May. The month that all graduates hate, and it's not only because the childhood is over and everyone will fly away from their parents nests to build their own lives. No, not because of this. And not even because the exam season begins, but simply because all the losers of school’s society will once again be humiliated in such a special way that every hope of finding happiness is equal to zero. As you understood we are stalking about prom here. Yes, yes, a place for fairy tales and first kisses, but not for your school. You have long outgrown the age where, sitting in your room, you built castles of love stories and fairy-tale myths that any minute now a prince on a white horse will gallop for you and take you away from this Hell. He should have, but he didn't, as usually happens in life.

Derek is a prince?... no, but the idiot you invited to the prom, the idiot who is the captain of the football team and your date of the night, and the idiot you liked long enough to realize how stupid and naive you were to let your heart beat faster. Every guy you met was idealized, you liked them all simply because they showed their attention to you. You didn't know what love was and probably no one else does, simply because at your age popularity and status are more important than nightly serenades and poetry dedications. So the evening turned into a disaster when Derek accepted your invitation but ended up making out at the prom with one typical and such a stereotypical blonde cheerleader with an open cleavage who was just trying to get the attention of your so-called "boyfriend". Tina. Yes, you noticed this connection between them a long time ago and it didn't make you feel any better when, walking back with drinks, you noticed how they hugged and kissed - it was a low blow. It was like all 206 bones in your body were breaking at once, grinding you into powder, smashing your nose into the dirt and slapping you so hard that a trace of shame would remain forever on your cheek. You remained there as tears welled up and slowly flowed down your cheeks and your heart created a crack in pain. You didn't notice how someone pushed you and all the drinks spilled right on your dress that you had been choosing for months specifically for this event where you were supposed to kiss Derek and wear the crown of the prom. How foolish.

But it looked good, this dress was a bold contradiction of softness and edge, clinging to your figure in rich plum tones that deepened to black at the hem. Those contractions were something that you wanted to prove of yourself, someone you wanted to be for Derek. But it’s not who you are. The fabric shimmered with a galaxy of fuchsia sequins, scattered like stardust across the sheer overlay. Each step made them flicker under the chandeliers, catching the light in flashes that felt almost rebellious that now seemed like nothing with drinks spilled all over it. The bodice hugged you with elegant ruching, sculpting your waist and drawing the eye upward to a halter neckline that hinted at something both vintage and daring. The skirt flared gently into jagged, asymmetrical points, like petals with attitude, brushing just above your knees and swaying like they had their own rhythm. Strapped to your calves were winding black ribbons from your heels, lacing up like something out of a midnight fairytale. On one wrist, a delicate corsage of pale pink and ivory roses sat beside a burst of chiffon. On the other a punch of wild color, thistles and a rose in bruised red and violet, bound in black which gave the impression that maybe you weren’t as soft as you seemed. It wasn’t the kind of dress meant to blend in. It was made to be remembered, but instead you stand there with tears over your eyes and ruined fabric.

You are Cinderella because you lost your carriage and beautiful dress after midnight. Metaphorical confidence and childish naivety clouded your rational mind amidst the rhinestones, sequins and long glitter pendants that read “Prom 1980”. Amongst the crowd of teenagers, drink, fun and sparkly outfits, you felt like a missing piece of the puzzle and like you didn’t belong here. Glasses crashed to the floor and fabric was ruined until you began to realize how stupid you had looked this whole time. “You’re going to lose that girl” by The Beatles in the background didn’t help at all. How all those hours spent in the bathroom had been wasted, how makeup had become unnecessary that all weaknesses had slipped out when someone responded to you after a collision: “Stop standing there like a statue, you bitch. Can’t you see me coming or something?” it only provoked tears, bringing you back to reality. Derek and Tina turned to look you, studying you briefly before turning back with a smirk. You probably looked pathetic. Pathetic little creature. Naive and so stupid like a damn baby. Oh yeah who else you can possibly be than that?

You hate this world. You hate these people and you hate this school. All just to get out of this place, you ran out of the wooden door with a vertical window in the background, slamming it and no longer wanting to return to this damn hall. Everything that was happening around you shook even more, everything around was a trigger for tears and obsessive thoughts. You just don’t understand why all the bad things happened only to you and how you could have been so stupid to fall in love with this bastard? The sound of your heels echoed through the dark corridor as the music in the background disappeared, cracking your skull with memories of what you had seen earlier. Streams of tears ruined your makeup, painting your cheeks in a black stripe of mascara that was inexpensive. Because you were trying to save some money on that fucking dress. In your teenage dreams, you wanted Derek to take it off you. It only hurt more because you believed in yourself so much, preparing and planning everything in advance - speech, words, behavior, smell and appearance. And in the end he chose someone else.

Going outside and quickly walking down the stairs, you sat down on the step and started crying, but louder. You didn't care if anyone saw, those school years were over anyway and those people would leave, forgetting about you and themselves. But honestly you do because you wanted to be remembered as sharp and bright girl just to prove yourself once again that the role you worth for others is definitely not a crybaby. Your teenage hormones didn't help you at all. You're not a child anymore, but you're not an adult either. You're locked between two worlds and nothing can be the same as before. Kaleidoscopes and patterns of different colors blurred in your eyes when you felt the wind blowing your hair away from your bashful face.

Away from the monster you turned into in a matter of seconds after what you saw. You became a laughing stock that they'll hang on the boards of the school stand to ridicule you. It's so stupid and so unfair. But unfortunately you will get everything in this world only if you are popular and have a pretty face like this bitch Tina. Tina Morgan. Now you hate her, although you didn’t like her before either. An arrogant slut who likes to sit on two chairs, just so that all the male attention was on her. And so she oppressed you by receiving Derek and most likely the crown of the prom. Just the thought of this cut off your breath with a sharp pain and you began to feel how tears turn into an excess of air, and your chest can no longer cope. It never even occurred to you that you need to be a bitch to be liked by others. Since childhood, you were taught that princesses who received a crown are kind and beloved women. Not those who behave like Tina. You heard distant footsteps and someone's laughter that was approaching the exit where you were sitting at. Thinking about the bad, you prayed to God or whoever even exists up there, just so that it was not them. But with the door wide open and interested looks, you saw that it was a couple who couldn't tear themselves away from each other until they noticed your intense gaze and turned to ask who you were and what happened. And also why you were crying, which only made it more painful. Fuck you all, you replied, mentally wishing for their lips to stick together and choke them to death. You didn't want to see others happy, especially next to you in a place where it was calm and quiet and no one could possibly disturb you. A place where you could calm down and digest it all.

You stood up again, walking away under intense gazes. Maybe you were weird and that's why no one was interested in you and that's why no one will ever love you. You're an outcast, you're a commoner, you're disgusting, you're lonely, you’re an embarrassment, you’re an attention whore, you’re stupid and... your brain didn't had time to throw up a new insult when you walked outside the school closer to the nearest park and noticed a strange figure sitting on a bench. Some weird guy.

He sits there with a casual, almost defiant slouch, a teenager on the edge of adulthood who wears his confidence like a second skin but he lost it this time. At 17 or 18, he has the lean, wiry build of someone who moves fast and lives faster, with long, inky black hair that falls over his face in tousled layers. His deep-set, dark eyes hint at a restless energy sharp, observant, and constantly sizing up the world around him, were now reduced to thinking mess. He wears a light blazer carelessly over a graphic tee bearing the face of Keith Richards. Stones fan, huh? The contrast between classic rock glam and his gritty, punkish presence is almost ironic. He looked attractive and interesting, which made you stop in your tracks to observe his slouched figure. The shirt hangs a little loose, like everything he owns is either thrifted, stolen, or passed down from someone with better luck. His hands are rested over his knees while he was holding an already ruined bouquet of flowers. Fingers calloused, maybe from playing guitar, maybe from climbing out of too many second-floor windows but you knew that it was altogether for sure. He looked familiar. Everything about him says he doesn’t care, but the way he poses, half-challenging, half-inviting and half-thinking tells you he does. Just not in the way most people do.

You slowly approached him, sincerely not understanding what he was doing here and why you had the feeling as if you had seen him somewhere before. He is surely from your school.

-«Hey... can I sit here?» you called him out with a slightly shaking and hoarse voice after crying, swallowing saliva and already accepting your fate.

The black-haired guy looked up and you recognized him. Jeffrey Isbell, the same guy from your school who everyone calls a “weirdo” because of his strange style and “gay” because of his long hair. And he also loves the Stones, which clearly shows how much worse the situation has gotten since the wave of hate towards this band and how all of their fans immediately became gay. It's hilarious. His chestnut gaze was looking at you and you had already lost your guard for a second while he calmly nodded with a hint of attention, moving away and leaving you a place next to him. Weird guy, he looks so calm and enigmatic as if he were the surface of the ocean. He put the bouquet on the other side of the bench, leaning back while the rustling of leaves played a serenade, letting you both get used to each other. This... Jeffrey is definitely weird but he's dressed cool and his hair looks cool. You had almost forgotten that he was friends with this crazy guy Bill Bailey from your parallel or whatever he was.

-«Tough night?» a hoarse teenage voice soaked in testosterone suddenly sounded somewhere to your left. You were already looking at him, but it didn't matter because he was also looking at you, directly pointing with his gaze at your ruined makeup and obvious dejection.

-«That's an understatement but... yeah you can say that.» You answered with a nervous laugh, looking away and bitterly chuckling, not wanting to feel his intense gaze on you, as if he already knew your entire family tree and also your favorite drink. But it's better to just forget, because the worst thing is if he realizes that you were rejected in front of everyone and you, like a naive fool, cried thinking that it was love. «And you?» you turned the arrows in his direction, not wanting to raise this topic.

-«Tina Morgan.» He answered calmly, which made you raise an eyebrow, realizing that words were not needed here. You were both in the same hole. What a coincidence...

-«Ah...» was the only thing that came out of your mouth, realizing that you absolutely don’t know how to support others, or even yourself. It is such a difficult task and you definitely need to study for at least another 12 years.

-«Yeah... and you as I get it is Derek Henderson?» He turned in your direction with sympathy, also deftly avoiding the main topic, not wanting to bare his wounded soul and deep shame for believing in love. Just as you. It's strange, because this is one of the reasons why humans can be called humans, and they are so embarrassed by this feeling. Like what the heck, dude?

-«Yes.» You nodded, looking at your hands that you placed on your knees, playing with the fabric of your ruined dress. «I take it you were also rejected and replaced by someone better?» You said it with such deep pain feeling that tears were about to flow down again but his voice distracted you.

-«Well yeah... I spent three weeks getting ready and even spent money on a bouquet. The price I could have bought new strings or wires for my guitar for.» Jeff started. Which made you look up understanding his pain, you also spent so much pocket money on a dress, although you could have bought posters of your favorite performers. Even if we talk about Jeffrey, his outfit was most likely borrowed from his father or a relative judging by the quality of the fabric. But he was still irresistible. Well, that's what you thought. Of course.

-«Me too. I spent a month choosing a dress and in the end it's ruined. I could have bought posters or vinyl in that store down the street with that money.» You shook your head feeling your own absurdity and stupidity thinking that it was really so important for your money. «So I came hoping he likes me but he chose Miss Perfect... but I don't blame him, I'm really not good enough for him.» You said, feeling your eyes getting wet again. Damn Derek.

-«Not good enough?» Jeff suddenly said, making you look up at him while he just frowned. There was no pain in his eyes even after Tina, which made you so jealous. How did he do it so easily?

-«Look at me!» You exclaimed, feeling an obsessive sense of injustice fill your soul. This world hates average, which is what you definitely were. «I'm not a cheerleader and I'm definitely not a blondie with perfect curves who just came out of Vogue! Of course, nothing would ever work out between us...» You realized how pathetic you sounded pouring out your soul to a guy you barely knew, who clearly didn't give a damn about you and your problems. Tears started flowing from your already wet eyes again. It simply couldn't be any worse than it already is.

-«I hope it’s a joke.» Jeff replied, from which you looked up at him, clearly not understanding what he wanted to say. He only smiled slightly lifting the corner of his virgin lips in a light form of support. «Wipe your tears, this bastard does not deserve you. Now crying because you can’t buy a poster of your favourite musician is a real problem. I sold my soul for this T-shirt with Keith.. so this is the only thing that supported me this evening. I mean…I could cry over Tina but she’s not Richards.» His velvety and such a boyish voice pleasantly flattered your heart, from which you blinked wiping your eyes, feeling a strange sensation in your lower stomach. He supported so strangely but skillfully, as if thousands of crying girls were sitting next to him and asking for help.

- «....» you simply lost your words listening to him, of course you knew that he was slightly strange and detached guy who almost has no friends except for the rockers with whom he plays behind the garages and this crazy Bailey. But this level of support was definitely something new.

-«See? You have nothing to say because I'm right.» He smiled sarcastically and it gave you such a big explosion somewhere inside, letting the ecstasy spread through the body and the butterflies fly up the stomach and straight to the heart feeling every rhythmic beat. You always wrote it off as hormonal reactions, being a teenager trying to grow up and get some brain. Just because falling in love with every lamppost... is a little weird. «You're not the type of girl who deserves tears, you don't deserve anything related to this at all.» Jeffrey added, which made you have so many questions that no professional who has considered them all will be able to answer them. But the most understandable is where did he suddenly get interested in you? In you...

-«And what do I deserve then?...» you asked, swallowing the lump in your throat and feeling how all the unpleasant feelings accumulated at the level of your dignity.

-«This.» Jeff replied and turned the other way, taking out his crumpled and dirty flower bouquet he earlier left on the other side of the bench. «You deserve it.» He replied with a smile that made you smile back. What a romantic this dude.

-«A dirty bouquet?» You laughed awkwardly, already thinking that if they will ever invent a time machine, you will erase your existence for such a response to elementary flirting.

-«C'mon, think one more time.» He tut his tongue and shook his head. «It's not that bad, even if it was thrown on the floor. I think that next to you, it will shine with new colors ... as cheesy as it sounds.» He looked at you, still holding the bouquet and pointing it at you, with such an enticing face. As if begging you to take it.

-«Is this an invitation?» you asked with some naivety, holding out your hand and intercepting the bouquet that he gave you, lightly touching his fingers, from which the touch went through your body like electricity, causing goosebumps.

- «You're certainly not a cheerleader and you're definitely not a blondie with perfect curves who just came out of Vogue. But I'd be a fool if I didn't give you this bouquet.» Jeff paraphrased you, from which you smiled and the tears were forgotten. That bastard Derek and slut Tina, could suck it. They can bathe in perfectionism as much as they want, but we will always be one step closer to the truth ... simply because we are real and not fake Barbie and Ken.» said the black-haired guy, pushing his body up from the bench and holding out his hand to you.

-«This...» you looked at him in surprise, sincerely not understanding what just happened and what was going on. He was so quiet and aloof almost always, and here his other side of the coin was calling you to forget about this world and accept reality. This introverted guy that you briefly saw in the corridors did not stick out in your memory until this evening.

-«Shall we dance? I don't want to invite artificial blondes anymore. I like humans, not dolls, even if I'm disappointed in them... which I don't think will last long, because you'll fix it.» He smiled and for a second it seemed to you that you were sleeping, that any minute now you would hear the alarm clock and wake up.

-«But... I don't want to go back there and anyway-» you didn't have time to finish as Jeff interrupted you, shaking his head and using all his efforts, all his masculine charm to attract you. Although to be honest, you thought that he didn't even have to try.

-«No. We're not going back there, they can have all the fun they want but we have our own fun here.» Jeff said.

-«It's quite shitty..» you commented pessimistically, reluctantly taking his hand and standing up from the bench holding the bouquet in your hands.

-«Then...we are the king and the queen of our own shitty prom, how does that sound?» he nudged your shoulder before his other hand let go of yours and with permission from your eyes he dropped his hand at your waist.

-«Still shitty.» you smiled letting him catch you while the rustling of leaves distantly carried loud music from a nearby building filled with students who next year will leave, disappear and only the school photo book will remember them. You and Jeff are part of them, but it didn’t affect your dancing at all, as the song reached your ears you grabbed each other twirling and dancing under the night lights. Your arms wrapped around his shoulders while the bouquet hung somewhere behind him. Let time stand still, everyone will forget you and you will forget them.

-«You’re hard to please..» Jeff joked, looking straight into your eyes with sarcasm. That damn smirk was spreading across his face again.

-«You're not Jimmy Page for me to like, but your resemblance attracts me.» you said back.

-«Oh, so... you're also a Zeppelin fan? Welcome to the club. We love black-haired guitarists.» Jeff replied, studying your face with interest, like a painter memorising every detail. «I just hope you're not here with me because I'm a black-haired guitarist and look like a kid of Keith Richards and Jimmy Page.»

-«No.» You shook your head with a laugh. He had a particular sense of humor and you were definitely starting to like it. It wasn't just because he calmed you down so quickly and brought you back to your senses. He was just being himself. «But that could be one of the reasons.»

-«I don't know if that's a compliment or an insult.» Jeff replied, his eyes falling on yours. You wanted to drown in them so much.

-«Neither. I just found your resemblance amusing.» You shrugged, until a barely audible song reached your ears, this one was "Dancing Queen" so ironic.

-«Too bad.. I was hoping for the former.» He grinned with such cheekiness that sometimes you considered the quote don't judge a book by its cover, because there might be a masterpiece behind it. And that masterpiece was most likely standing in front of you, which made you feel weird again.

-«What do you think... I'm weird? Well... I mean..if I think about them?..» You didn't want to specify who, because in any case, you'll come out as a weirdo. Thinking about rock stars is weird because they're a few years older than you and they certainly won't notice you... and thinking about Derek and Tina is also weird. Just because that's what they're waiting for. For you to waste your tears on them.

-«We are all weird in our own way. And I love the way you are weird, because it makes me fell more comfortable being weird with you.» Jeffrey replied, leaving you speechless again. Sometimes this weird guy was such a poet that you wondered if he was from a fairy tale. With a gentle smile, he leaned forward to your ear, letting you smell him. He smelled like….teenager, but better, like a guy who is preparing to become a man, leaving his boyhood behind. It sounds weird, but he looked smarter beyond his years. Jeff hummed the melody of Dancing Queen in your ear, with such a husky and slightly underdeveloped voice, trying to impress you with his singing. Such a gentle and quiet half-whisper, so that only you could hear. So that no one else could enjoy his mini concert for you. He would have been a great musician. «You are the dancing queen...Young and sweet, only seventeen..»

You danced with him to this melody until the very end and until the beginning of the next one, realizing that sometimes the best things happen when you least expect them and don't prepare for them for months. They just come and change your life upside down. Just like this black-haired guy who whispered different songs to you all evening while you danced like an old couple to the hits. Such a stupid thing this life, first it cripples then heals. But you knew that Jeffrey would definitely make you love this little thing called….life.

Me and Izzy girlies be like:

I honestly think that this pookie wookie over here would’ve love vinted if he lived in our generation cause look how proud and happy he is about this shirt omg😭😭🫶🏻🫶🏻 (im just genuinely obsessed with this app that’s why it crossed my mind help)

Me when this part of dumb but instrumental version comes on or just the song in general:

HAPPY ANNIVERSARY TO OUR FAVOURITE BOYS!! I LOVE THEM SM 🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻 WISH THEY COULD TAKE US ALL TO THE PARADISE CITY FR

HAPPY 40TH ANNIVERSARY TO THE BEST BAND IN ROCK N ROLL!!!!