#and the rest is history... fuck. thinking about her teenage and ya self always makes me cry. she was so much like suiren it's heartbreaking

[fuckingdeadbutroyal]

Jasonette July- Soulmate AU- Part 4

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5

!Season 3 spoilers coming right ahead!

A tiny sigh escaped Maris lips as she felt her body filling up with energy. “He ate. I think I’ll be fine in a few”, she told her partner, who was currently swimming next to her. She hadn’t dared to detransform for a day now, knowing that doing so would mean her finally collapsing. The duo hasn’t been wasting time, though. Theyvwere trying to come up with a new plan. Ladybug told him all about her being the new Guardian of the Miraculous, about Chat Blanc and Bunnix. Pointed out how if Bunnix hasn’t turned up yet, that meant that they could handle the situation. Explained why she wouldn’t dare share her identity with him, even though she wanted to, because of how she couldn’t afford to risk him turning into Chat Blanc again. Ladybug told him about her soulmate. Now he finally understood how she had such incredible stamina and... had a hard time agreeing to the two of them staying as nothing more than friends.

Adrien did not disregard their friendship as something unimportant. Knowing that he was Ladybugs best friend and feeling that she was just as well his... best friend, his partner, the person he could rely on the most. It was amazing, unique and so very very important to him.

That didn’t mean he wasn’t hurt, though. He loved her and she liked him, they both knew that. It just was never enough. Not for Adrien.Now was not the time to grieve his broken heart, though. He was used to suppressing his emotions due to Hawkmoths terror. He could keep it together for a little longer.

Now that all their cards were laid out on the table, they were ready to come up with a plan.

“Look. I can’t cast my cure while the akuma is still out there. Creation doesn’t work with destruction working actively against it.”, Ladybug told Chat who, though currently detransformed as Adrien, winced. The word “Destruction” has already intergrated itself as a trigger, setting off a bad reaction in the teenagers mind. Plagg did not like that in the slightest. “Kid, you’ve gotta get it together. Yes I am the god of D-Trigger, but I’m also the God of Chaos and let me tell ya, I can’t sense a hint of chaos on that dusty dirtbag out there.” Adrien smirked, a drained, sarcastical smile forming on his lips. “Are you trying to tell me I have another power you’ve just forgotten to mention?” 

The heroes knew they still weren’t off age and therefore didn’t have access to their full potential. That didn’t stop hope from lighting up in the backs of the duos hearts. They already couldn’t use the other Miraculous power, since all of the previous Miraculous holders were eliminated on day three, due to Hawkmoth already knowing their identities (thanks to what he had done on heroes day two years ago) and him finding the civilian heroes’ hiding places before Ladybug and Chat Noir could even locate their presence in Paris. Searching for new holders was clearly not a good idea. They couldn’t risk throwing someone inexperienced and terrified into a battle they didn’t know how to win yet.

But if Chat could use a new power? 

That would be the element of surprise they needed! Adriens 18th Birthday was just around the corner, there's a chance it could work!

"Nah, he's not in the right condition to try, too young and way too exhausted"

Bye bye little flame of hope.

"But if you were to get some ACTUAL sleep and eat some fucking food? You would totally make it."

"Wait what?", Marinettes eyes were the size of asteroids. They had a chance! She just had to get him to one of those bunkers so he could get some sleep and then..."Then we'll have to go without it. I'm not leaving you alone milady."

Oh, yeah, there was that tiny detail she had forgotten. The two of them were too protective of each other to leave their partner to their own devices and Ladybug entering any building was not an option.The girl let out a frustrated huff, "Cha-" "I understand what you mean, Ladybug.”, Adriens voice was solid and left no room for argument. Batman would have been proud. “But this is not up to debate. I'm not leaving you alone, not while you are in this state nor during any of our battles. It has never ended well in the past and it sure as hell won't end well now."

Plagg' and Maris' annoyed sighs were absolutly identical, which would've made Adrien laugh, if it weren't for their current situation. He knew he was right, though, and he knew she did as well.

Mentally, Marinette was feeling better. Less on edge, more focused. It was surprising to all of them. Of course she still was incredibly tired, even more fatigued than yesterday, which was understandable since she has not slept for about a week now and spent most of her time swinging around Paris, thinking her head off and crying her eyes out while trying to save as many civilians as possible. Nontheless, even though her body was about to shut down, her brain was working at a thousand miles per hour. She knew it was thanks to her soulmate, who was currently fueling the both of them by ingesting loads of energizing substances and getting closer.

Marinette was now certain her soulmate was a man. He was in Paris, in danger and aware of her dependance on him.

Who could he be? How did he get here? Why now? Why hasn’t he ever tried to find her before? 

She didn’t judge him, of couse. Did not expect him to put everything aside just to find her. Who if not Ladybug could understand what it meant to have duties holding you back, chaining you to the ones who claim to love you? (While they only do so because they need her, Marinette believed. Paris didn’t actually love her, no-one cared about her wellbeing unless it was important for their safety. No-one would jump into fire for Ladybug if they wouldn't trust her to sacrifice her sanity to resurrect them. No-one has ever jumped to rescue Marinette in her civilian identity, after all.)

Marinette was spiralling. Memories and repressed emotions suddenly jumping to the surface, reminding her of all the ways she had offered her very self to help anyone in need and receiving nothing in return. She had people who were nice to her, she had friends and family and people who loved her for who she was. Sadly, Mari only just now realised that love wasn't enough. It has never been enough. She would spend many nights awake, working on gifts and projects and helping her friends out or even just simply entertaining them over the phone. What for? Why?!

"Marinette is a saint", her parents would say, "She can do anything." Mari knew that wasn't true. She wasn't almighty. She couldn't even say "No".

That’s where the spiral came to an end. All those thoughts were standing at a cliffs edge, staring down into the abyss right beneath their feet. A tiny step forward, a minimal lean in and she would fall. Where would she go? What would she encounter? Was it okay to do this? Was it okay to change?

For once, Mari felt sure of herself. In a place she would've never thought she'd be, swimming under a god damn Ladybug themed boat in the middle of the Saine. Her mind was clear, certain. She opened her eyes and her mind jumped.

"Well fuck no I can't always do everything.", Mari heard Ladybugs voice, only partly recognizing it as her own.

The black cat duo next to her winced, having been discussing the topic of whether or not Adrien could leave Ladybug alone for a few hours. Not at all have they been expecting the sudden change in the star of their argument.

"Bug...?"

She looked at him, face straight but full of rage. Eyes sharp but full of thought. She didn't need to look around to figure out how to use her lucky charm, instead she had a horrible, unstable and unfinished plan she was absolutely going to follow.

"I have an idea."

------------------

Hawkmoth was nervous. The akuma was stronger than he had expected and definitely much harder to control. He hasn't yet decided whether or not it was a good idea to akumatize a homeless man, especially considering his educational history in architecture and geography.

It was like the Akuma was thinking, not just feeling like all his previous ones did. It could either mean victory or the literal end of the world. Gabriel was hoping for the first option, of course.

Another reason for his nervous state of mind, were the unexpected members of the justice league, who for whatever reason just now decided to enter the battlefield. He hasn't been expecting them anymore, once the first year of his reign had passed without a droplet of attention from Gotham and the rest of the world. If they've never cared before, why now? Did they suddenly have more free time or did they only just realise they were literal vigilantes and could therefore ignore any and all international borders?

Or was Hawkmoth finally on the right track, finally about to win so they sent the last of their forces to come and save his enemies? A grin split his masked face in a horrifying grimace. His secret weapon was still leashed, still waiting for his order. Agreste Senior had the upper hand, this was his time to shine, his time to win.

Finally.

----------

Much clearer air seeped into Jason's lungs. He even went as far as removing his mask, just so he could properly breathe in something that wasn't poisoned with a literal mist of dust and the stench of death. His heart, no, their hearts were beating faster. Jason stood right by the river. He felt the cold water numbing her legs and reaching for her throat. He felt her dizzy fatigue and her clenching stomach. He knew her thoughts were just as clear as his. It felt as though their minds were finally complete, as if their brains could finally grasp the whole situation. Their body's were so close, they could finally function the way they were meant to. Together, helping one another.

"Red Robin. I found her. The boats are meant for shelter, the akuma can't come out in the open and it’s afraid of water. The heroes must be somewhere underneath those fat kanus."

"Copy."

"I'm going in."

"Hood wai-"

Jason was already underwater, hearing but not listening to Tim's voice.

Red Hood was about to find his Red Lady and no one could stop him.

-------------

Marinette had just finished explaining her plan to Adrien, who was now transformed and ready to move, when she felt it. "He's here.", was all she could muster. Chat didn't have to think twice to guess what she had meant and subconsciously started to brace himself. He couldn't help but think that now really wasn't the time for her soulmate to interrupt. They were at war, which meant that her uninvited lover was putting himself and Ladybug at risk. Risking her safety meant risking Paris safety which meant that over all, Adrien felt like they were being royaly fucked by the Kwami of Timing.

The Duo felt the water underneath their feet moving. (The rivers flow has been stopped right at the beginning of the akuma battle. It was a safety precaution the mayor has ordered after a particularly unpleasant spread of akuma poison. Now, whenever the Akuma-alert went of, the city shut down, sealed shut and closed up. Not a single soul could enter and not a single twig could leave.

The heroes had formerly agreed to that being a great idea, now that they were short on everything, though... let's say they have learned that isolation wasn't always the best solution to their problems.)

Ladybug felt him before she heard him, a weird sense of Deja-vu overcoming her.

He came up behind her. Her spine felt like it was buzzing with electricity.

"Pixie?"

Jason didn't know why he called her that, but it sure as hell felt right.

Another shiver went down their spines. Marinettes reaction caused by her soulmates voice, while Jason's body just seemed to mimic hers even more intensely now.

She turned around.

Their eyes met.

Their scars felt like they've lit up in flames.

Two sleeping bodies were sinking towards the floor of the river Saine.

--------------------------------------

Hey ho, friendioh

I am so tired, my eyes are so done, je suis juste come Jasonette in my story.

You comments though? I LOVE YOU. Thank each and every one of you lovely message-leavers, my heart is now full of love and excitement and it’s your fault!

I can’t stress this enough, your feedback is shooing my depressay far far away.

Now back to the content. I am not finished yet, there’s more coming and the end is still uncertain, even to me. I have my plotline and my scenes, but this story has kind of started writing itself (which in my opinion is what makes writing so great). So I guess we’re all looking into a future just as uncertain as Dukes vision :)

My taglist has grown! Message me if you are interested in joining that cute group you are about to read the names of, I’ll be happy to add you ^^

Tag List \o/

@maribat-is-lifeblood @lokilex @amayakans @readingismyoxygen 

Thanks for reading ^^

[angelic-holland]

Stay At My Place // th x fem!reader

Miss Yer Kiss Part Two

Feel free to read Miss Yer Kiss! Feel free to leave comments or asks with feedback! 

Warnings: smut, feelings, actual plot this time, nsfw, 18+ please

Word Count: 12k

Tom checked Instagram the next day, including your page. He was laying in his bed when he clicked your story. He gasped when he saw what was a spitting image of himself in pencil. He took a screenshot of it and almost posted it to his story but decided not to.

He remembered what you told him.

“Let’s agree on one thing. This is a one night stand, that’s it.”

He didn’t want it to be a one night stand. He’s had his share of one night stands, sure. But there was something different about you. Maybe it was your confidence, maybe it was the way you didn’t even care enough to leave your phone number. Maybe it was your tattoos and how he wanted to hear the story behind each and every one of them.

He decided to wait, see if you would DM him since you set out the “only a one night stand” pact.  

He heard his doorbell ring and he got out of bed, he checked his phone, who was at his place at 10:30 at night?

He jogged down the stairs, opening the door.

“Hey mate,” Harry says, pushing his way inside.

“What’s up? Were you planning on coming over?”

“Nah last minute decision,” Harry says, walking up the stairs, Tom following.

“Okay, what’s up?”

“Is she still here?”

“Who?”

“The girl you left the club with last night.”

“No she’s gone,” Tom frowns.

Harry flops down on the sofa, “oh good.”

“Why?”

“You’ve never been caught mid hook up before, by the paps I mean, mom almost had a fucking heart attack when she saw the pictures of you leaving the restroom of the club.”

“Wait why?”

“Cause she doesn’t know about your other hookups, she also wasn’t expecting pictures of her son with lipstick marks and sex hair leaving a fucking club bathroom.”

“We didn’t fuck in there.”

“Sure you didn’t.”

“Not like, not full sex, fuck off it doesn’t matter.”

“Sure, like the stories of people hearing her scream your name aren’t important.”

“Harry! Can it, not like it matters now.”

“Yeah? Do you even remember her name?”

“Course I do, it’s Y/N.”

He smiles, remembering how you made him work for it.

“Stop thinking about it you perv,” Harry says, tossing a pillow at Tom as he sits down.

“Shut up, she only wanted a one night stand so I’m gonna respect that.”

“Sure.”

“What?”

“You always catch up with them after the ‘one night stand’ and see if they want to go on a date, hook up again. It’s your thing.”

“My thing?” Tom scoffs, crossing his arms.

“Yeah.”

“Well whatever if she wants to talk to me she can DM me on Instagram or something.”

“No she can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because you get legit thousands of DMs a day, probably more, you wouldn’t be able to see it.”

“I could search for it? Would that work?”

“Maybe.”

***

You’re lying in bed, suitcase packed for the flight you’ve got early tomorrow. You sigh, pulling out your phone. You know what you said. You know you should just forget about the possibility of seeing Tom again. Of interacting with him again. But you couldn’t get that night out of your head.

“It’s beautiful out,” you say, exhaling the smoke from your lungs.

“Not as-,”

“I swear if you finish that sentence I’ll leave right now,” you groan.

“Okay! I won’t, just, you look so pretty, the moon really lights up your tattoos, they look good.”

Any of your hook ups, you weren’t used to them complimenting you if that compliment wasn’t about loving your tits or something stupid. They never called you beautiful, like Tom was about to. Or pretty. You opened your Instagram, you decided the other day to post the picture you drew of Tom, even going so far as to tag him. Your eyes almost fell out of your head when you saw he liked the post.

Maybe, maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea to send him a message, he’d have a hard time finding it anyways with the probably hundreds of thousands of messages he gets.

You quickly send him a DM.

yourinstagramhandle: thanks for the like, you like the drawing?

You roll your eyes and send a text to Bryce, asking if he wants to go to your graduation.

You go back to Instagram and see you’ve got a DM from none other than Tom.

What the fuck.

***

“wait! She DMed me, holy shit,” Tom says, opening it.

He smiles and responds.

tomholland2013: thought it was okay

tomholland2013: I’m kidding I thought it was great

Yourinstagramhandle: well thanks

Tomholland2013: didn’t think I’d hear from you again

Yourinstagramhandle: almost didn’t DM you but decided I need validation

Tomholland2013: the sex or the drawing?

Yourinstagramhandle: you caught me… both

tomholland2013: well the sex was so good I want to see you again so there’s that. And the portrait is so good I want you to tattoo it on me

Yourinstagramhandle: well damn I’ll take it. Not a tattoo artist yet though, and getting a portrait of yourself tattooed, little self centered don’t you think?

Tomholland2013: just a tad bit.

Tomholland2013: are you still in town?

Yourinstagramhandle: leaving bright and early tomorrow for NYC

Tomholland2013: come over

Yourinstagramhandle: I can’t, I’ll be too busy giving you the time of your life I’ll miss my flight

Tomholland2013: that’s not necessarily a bad thing

Yourinstagramhandle: it is when I’ve got school, finals in two weeks and then I need to beg for a tattoo apprenticeship

Tomholland2013: they’ll be begging you to be their apprentice

Yourinstagramhandle: totally not how it works

Tomholland2013: I fly by New York end of May, can I see you then?

Yourinstagramhandle: sure you won’t have forgotten about me by then?

Tomholland2013: no, already miss your sex, don’t know how I’m gonna go two months without it

Yourinstagramhandle: we could always be horny teenagers and sext. Wanna see my tits?

Tomholland2013: right now?

Yourinstagramhandle: no in two months, yes right now

Tomholland2013: fuck yeah

Tomholland2013: wait send me ur phone number I don’t wanna accidentally save them and have them end up on my Instagram story or something

Yourinstagramhandle: not very good with technology?

Tomholland2013: nope

***

You giggle, pulling off your shirt, you weren’t wearing a bra, so you just waited for him to text you.

Unknown number: Y/N?

You: the one and only

Tom: great now show me your tits

You: I better get a picture of your hard cock immediately following

Tom: my brothers here!

You: kick him out or go to your room, my tits look pretty great right now

Tom: please send them, told him to get lost

You: where are you right now?

Tom: couch

You: take your cock out, play with it a little bit

You position yourself in front of the mirror, pinching your nipples a little so they harden before taking a picture and sending it to him.

Tom: holy fuck, missed ur tits so much

You: I’m waiting

You quickly strip your sweatpants and now soaked panties, laying back on the bed.

You groan at the picture he sends, his hard cock in his hand, thighs spread on his couch.

Tom: can I call u

You: Patience baby, one step at a time. Let’s just sext for now

You can practically hear his whine but you wouldn’t answer his call even if he did. You loved teasing him.

Tom: fuck, send me a picture of your pussy

You: why should I?

Tom: please, know you’re probably dripping for me, come on, lemme see it

You smirk, your fingers moving to lazily move through your folds, gently slipping into your hole, you take a few pics, choosing the best one to send to Tom.

Tom: holy fuck, you sure I can’t come over? Wanna eat your pussy so good

Although you’d love that, you knew it wasn’t possible. You sighed, responding to him as your thumb gently rubbed your clit.

You: positive, now be a good boy and jerk your cock for me until you make a mess

You smile, putting your phone down and fucking yourself down on your fingers.

****

“Shit,” Tom groaned, reading your text before his hand sped up. He closed his eyes, pretending it was your hand, pretending you were there with him.

He came embarrassingly quickly with a whimper of your name.

You: and I expect a picture of the mess

He groans, sending a picture of his stomach painted with his come and his softening cock, sending it to you.

You: beautiful

You send him a video a few minutes later.

He cleans his stomach off with a T-shirt before clicking play, feeling his cock twitch as it starts with you whimpering his name.

“Tommy,” you say, the camera angle showing your fingers fucking in and out of your pussy, making the most delicious sound. Your fingers speed up, thumb rubbing your clit as the only noise he hears is his name and the sound of your fingers fucking in and out of you.

You come with a grunt of his name, and he thinks the video is going to cut off but you trail your fingers from your clit up your body, stopping to make gentle circles around your nipples before sucking them into your mouth. He groans as the video stops, right as you moan around your fingers.

Tom: you’ll send me that and not let me come over?

You: gotta keep ya on your toes

Tom: trust me I most certainly am

He sighs, grimacing as he picks up his sticky shirt, tucking his cock back into his shorts.

Tom: we need to do this again

You: I fully intend on it

***

You make it to your flight, Lily talking nonstop the entire trip back to New York about Tom, about if you’re going to meet up with him. How good he was in bed.

“Listen, Lily, I love you, but give it a rest. I’m sure the rest of the people on the plane don’t want to hear about it. I’ll tell you more when we get back to our place. Sound good? Also, you’re gay, you shouldn’t care about this.”

You roll your eyes as she grumbles, turning on a movie as you try to sleep.

When you arrive at your apartment, all you want to do is collapse on your bed and sleep for days. You only have one before you have to be back at work and school, however.

This next week was hectic, you had to finish your final for your portrait class, then you had to finish your oil painting final. The only final you would have to sit for was Art History IV.

You saw a text from Tom that you decided to open.

Tom: hope your flight was nice, good luck with finals

Jesus, you needed a smoke. You begrudgingly got up, grabbing your pack and lighter from your bedside table you pushed open the balcony door, taking your phone with you.

You: thanks, can’t believe I graduate so soon, been a whirlwind

Tom: what’s ur address

You: what

You light your cigarette, waiting for his reply.

Tom: wanna send you a graduation gift

You: like what

Tom: just something

Tom: on a completely different note what size bra and panties do you wear

You: I like the way you think.

You send him all the information he asked for, finishing your cigarette and lighting up another one. It was a bad habit of yours, you were well aware, but you started smoking with your ex when you first started college and you were, like most people who smoke, addicted. You planned to stop eventually, they drained money from your account and you’d need to start saving more for a chair at a tattoo shop anyways.

Tom: What are you up to now?

You: having a smoke then going to take a nap

Tom: oh

You: what?

Tom: just was gonna say we can call or video chat if you wanted to

You: although the idea of getting off together over the phone sounds amazing baby, I needa take a nap

Tom: after?

You: I’d want nothing more

You finish your other cigarette before going back inside, flopping down on your bed and closing your eyes.

You wake up to Lily shaking you awake, “Y/N, it’s been like so long you should get up.”

“What time is it?”

“It’s Sunday, like 2pm.”

“Oh shit,” you say, getting up.

You check your phone, a few missed calls from Tom, one text from Bryce asking if you wanted to work tonight around 6. The shop was closed but there was going to be a small cleaning day according to him.

You quickly text Bryce back, telling him you’ll be there. You send a message to Tom as well, unsure of what time it was over there.

You: sorry I totally suck but I’ll make it up to you. I’m going into work into work at 6pm my time, call me before then.

You lock your door, quickly shutting the door and curtains that lead to your balcony.

You jump back into bed and see your phone buzz, Tom. You quickly pick up.

“Thought you were gonna ghost me,” he laughs.

“Nah, like your dick too much.”

“Y/N, don’t say things like that.”

“Why?”

“Cause.”

“Oh, are you hard right now?”

“Maybe.”

“Are you free?”

“Course.”

“Good, are you naked?”

You hear him suck in a deep breath, “not yet.”

“Okay so get naked.”

“Are you?”

“I’m about to be baby, like I said, gotta work on your patience.”

It’s silent other than the sound of both of you taking your clothes off. You put the phone on speaker and lay it down next to you.

“You naked?” He asks, panting.

“Are you touching yourself?”

“Yes?”

“Did I say you could?” You grin, hearing him swear.

“What’s this game we’re playing Y/N?”

“Just listen to my instructions baby, gonna make you feel so good.”

“Fine,” you hear him grumble.

“You don’t haveta, you can hang up and get yourself off if you wanna.”

“No, no, okay I’m not touching myself, what do you want?”

“Want you to tease yourself, lick your palm, rub it down your chest, don’t touch your cock yet.”

He swears but does what you say, waiting patiently for your next instruction.

“Good, go ahead, wrap your hand around your cock, but don’t move, just feel the weight of yourself in your palm, feel good? Wish it was me, my hand wrapped around you?” You ask, letting your fingers pinch your nipples.

“Fuck, wish it was something else.”

“Yeah? What do you wish it was?” You ask, biting your lip, knowing exactly what he’s going to say.

“You’re, fuck, can I move my hand? Please?” You hear him whine.

“What do you wish it was Tom?”

“Your lips, wish your lips were wrapped around me right now.”

“Wish I was there right now, wish I could suck you off, maybe if you were being good I’d let you fuck my mouth, you’d like that wouldn’t you?”

“Fuck, yes, wanna fuck your mouth so bad.”

You loved how worked up he got just from being told what to do. You hand slipped down to your pussy, slipping a finger into your wet heat as you gave him his next instruction.

“Go ahead baby, jerk your cock for me.”

“Fuck, Y/N,” he grunts and you can hear him start to move, his bed moving beneath him.

“Feel good? Wish it was my pussy wrapped around your cock?” You ask, slipping another finger into yourself, moaning.

“Are you, you touching yourself too?”

“Course, not nearly as good as you touching me,” you groan, thumb rubbing your clit.

“Wish, fuck, wish I could see you right now.”

“Tom, feels so good, wish these were your fingers fucking into me, wish you were getting me off,” you whine, fingers speeding up.

“Yeah? Wish I could eat that pretty pussy of yours, make you come undone over and over again on my tongue,” he groans your name several times.

“Gonna come? You wanna come for me baby?”

“Yes, fuck, don’t stop please, wanna come, can I come?” he grunts and you grin. You were surprised he was asking permission and you let out a throaty groan as his moans get higher and higher pitched.

“Yes, come on baby, come all over yourself for me, take a picture when you’re done, wanna see how much of a mess you made for me.”

“Fuck, y/n, I’m coming, fuck,” he whimpers your name a few times and that’s all it takes for you to come undone.

“Shit,” you laugh, fingers slipping out from you.

“Yeah?”

“That was fun,” you giggle, before wiping your fingers off on your sheets.

“Agreed.”

You hear your phone buzz and you check it.

Another picture, this time Tom’s face was included. He was biting his lip, hand not holding the phone was in his hair, your eyes wandered down to his chest, red and sweaty, his stomach covered in his come, cock softening against his hip.

“Look so pretty baby,” you say, taking off your phone speaker.

“Thank you,” he laughs.

“Okay I gotta go get ready for work, talk to you later?”

“Great plan.”

“Bye.”

“You know your phone was on speaker right?” You hear Lily shout and you laugh so hard you’re almost in tears.

“Sorry!”

“Well at least I know what he’s like in bed now.”

***

You arrive at Tattoo Dice and the doors are locked, lights off. Maybe you were the first to get there, your apartment being so close, so you unlocked the door with your copy of the store key.

“SURPRISE!” A chorus of people shout and you’re bombarded by every tattooer, piercer, and front desk assistant holding balloons and streamers and those little things that pop, you couldn’t remember the name.

“Holy shit what’s this for?” You ask, confused.

“Your graduation,” Bryce says, stepping out from the crowd, “we couldn’t find a time when everyone was free after your graduation so now is close enough.”

“Yeah? Wow thank you,” you laugh as he guides you to the sofa in the waiting area, where a cake was waiting.

“What?” You ask, reading it.

“What’s it say?”

“Happy graduation and apprenticeship.”

You look between Bryce and the cake, “you fucking didn’t.”

“I did. I’ve never seen such talent and skill, you’ve been here for 4 years, you’re going to have to start looking for an apprenticeship when you graduate, I don’t want my competition swooping in and stealing you.”

You felt tears in your eyes, this never happened.

“Of course, you’ll have to put in the work and the effort, and pay for your chair but I have no doubt in my mind you can do that.”

“Thank you Bryce. Really,” you say, hugging him.

“Alright, no more crying, it’s cake time.”

***

You were anxiously awaiting the grade for your portrait. It took like every waking moment, the theme was “two sides of every story”. You knew exactly what to do.

You had called Tom after your party, shocked he was still awake.

“So, my portrait final, I was wondering if one of your buddies could take a photo of you sitting on a stool, like positioned in a corner, so your shadow is still in the shot.”

“Want me naked?”

You roll your eyes, “no, it’s, the theme is two sides of every story, so I want to draw you, maybe as Peter Parker, then your shadow will be Spiderman.”

“Holy fuck that’s awesome.”

“Yeah, do you think you could do it tomorrow morning? So the light hits you just right?”

“Course.”

“Thank you Tom,” you sigh, laying down.

“No problem. Keep your eye out for your mail.”

“Huh?”

“Your present.”

“Oh you know you don’t haveta get me anything. Don’t even know if anyone is going to my graduation,” you laugh.

“Wait what?”

“Nothing.”

“Nobody’s going to your graduation?”

“It’s, I mean, Bryce is going to try, not like I have anyone else.”

Shit fuck, fuck. You didn’t need to share personal shit with him.

“What about, you don’t haveta, I don’t know if this is a touchy subject for you, if you don’t wanna talk about it you don’t have to.”

“Why nobody’s going to my graduation?”

“Yeah.”

“See how easy it was? Anyways, don’t know who my dad is, mom left me on a police station’s doorstep when I was three like I was a newborn baby and it was the 1950s.”

“She did What now?”

“She had really bad postpartum depression, couldn’t handle having a kid I guess, left me on the police doorstep and I bounced around different foster homes. Never stayed in one place for more than a year.”

“I’m sorry.”

“What’re you sorry for?”

“For all that, for how you hadta grow up.”

“It was fine really, Art was what kept me going, it was the only thing I really had from home to home, only school subject I was able to do well in since it didn’t require previous knowledge.”

“Well I’m glad you got something good out of everything that happened.”

“Yeah,” you sigh, closing your eyes.

“When is it again?”

“When’s what?”

“Your graduation.”

“Oh, April 15th.”

“Okay.”

“Anyways, guess what?”

“What?” You can hear he’s more distant now, probably wants to ask why you don’t have anyone going to your graduation, he doesn’t want to know the answer.

“Bryce offered me an apprenticeship.”

“Really? That’s amazing!”

“Yeah, I’ve got just enough saved up to pay for my equipment and chair for the first few months, when I’m tattooing for free, then eventually I’ll get paid, might haveta take out a loan for my apartment or move somewhere cheaper but since I won’t be spending money for the subway to get to school it’ll cut my expenses. Jesus why am I rambling sorry you don’t wanna hear all this.”

“No I do, I do,” He says and you can hear some enthusiasm in his voice.

“It’s late you should go to bed.”

“Maybe we can talk in the morning?”

“I’d like that,” you smile, “goodnight Tom.”

“Night princess.”

You giggle as you hang up, running a hand over your face. You were fucking exhausted. The next morning you woke up to a picture message from Tom.

Holy shit, the picture was perfect, just what you needed.

You: this is legit amazing how’d you make it look so good?

Tom: brother is like an amateur photographer

You: nothing amateur about this. Thanks no I get to stare at your picture for the next 50 hours.

Tom: 50???

You: more or less, for the portrait, then the oil painting, now go away I’m meant to work

Your portrait professor said you could go into the studio to draw, since it was a full color design, but if you wanted to do it in the comfort of your own home you could. You opted to take your work to the tattoo studio, sprawling out in the back office.

“You’ve got it bad dontcha?” Bryce asks, seeing your initial outline of the sketch.

“What?”

“This kid in the drawing, it’s the same one you drew the other day. You sleep with him?”

“None of your business,” you say, “scram I gotta finish this outline.”

“It’s almost done, you’ve been working for 6 hours, you need a break.”

“Fine, wanna grab some coffee?”

“Let’s go kiddo,” Bryce says, helping you off the ground.

Bryce takes you to the coffee shop next door. You know you’re going to have to tell him about Tom.

Most of the time he acted like your fun uncle, wanted to know what you were up to but wouldn’t give you any advice or warnings. Recently he’d been more of a wise father, which you had no problem with, never having one of your own to rely on.

“So, he’s famous right? Does movies? How’d that happen?” He asks as you sit in a booth.

“Met him at a club in London.”

“And you…”

“Yes, we did, thought it was just gonna be, you know, that, but we’ve been talking.”

“Have you seen him since?”

“No, think he’s gonna visit on his way to a press thing.”

“So are you two dating? Messing around? What do kids these days call it?”

You shrug, taking a sip of your coffee, “I don’t know. Like, it would be cool to date him, but at the same time I like what we’ve got now. He’s all over the place all the time, lives in London, while I’m here, how’d that work?”

“Think you could find a way to make it work, if it’s worth it.”

“Well, dunno if it’s worth it.”

“You’re doing your final project on him, I think it’s worth it.”

You shrug, “Yeah.”

“So maybe you should see how he feels?”

“Too soon for that.”

“Whatever you want, I’ll be by your side whatever you chose. Alright let’s get back I’ve got a tattoo to do and you’ve got shading and colors to start.”

“Then I’m working at 6.”

“Yep, got 5 more hours of work to do, let’s get to it lady.”

***

By the time your shift started you had almost finished your outline in black and erased the pencil underneath it.

You were happy with how it looked, sending a photo to Tom. Tomorrow you had to go into school for your art history class, only two more lessons left.

Tom: holy shit looks amazing, and now you have to color it?

You: Yep, most of the time will be color, then my oil painting

Tom: What will be your oil painting?

You: was gonna make an oil painting of the Spiderman mask but I don’t want you to think I’m obsessed with you or something

Tom: I wouldn’t mind, your art blows my mind

Tom: also I’m kinda obsessed with you too

You: good

You smirk at his texts, locking up for the night at 11:30, saying goodnight to Bryce who made his way upstairs to his apartment. 

“See you tomorrow,” you wave, sending him one more.

The next day is filled with rushing to class, your professor telling you that the final class period was optional, knowing you all had plenty of work to do for other classes. You almost cheered.

When class wrapped up you made your way to the studio, working a mid to close shift, you weren’t going to have much time to work on your portrait.

You were able to use your colored pencils to get the color of his shirt, a blue button up, and his khaki pants done. You wanted to save the details of the Spiderman suit and his face for when you had more time.

By the time 1pm rolled around you were satisfied with how much work you had left and the time you had to do it.

You spent the rest of the day greeting customers, helping them pick out jewelry, copying their consent forms. You had fun as the front desk assistant and would no doubt do it for as long as they wanted you, but you were dying to have a turn with the tattoo machine.

The phone rings, and you answer.

“Hello, Tattoo Dice by Bryce, this is Y/N, how can I help you today?” You ask, pen and paper in hand.

“Hello, is Bryce in?” A low voice asks.

“He is, doing some paperwork in his office. Can I help you?”

“Was hoping to talk to him.”

“Sure, I’ll check to see if he’s taking calls,” you frown, clearly they’ve never stepped foot in a tattoo shop before or understand any etiquette of tattoo shops.

You put the person on hold and ring the back office, “someone wants to speak to you? Do I tell them off or let them through?”

“Feel like being nice, put them through.”

You transfer the line to the back office and look back at your portrait, taking out your skin tone set of colored pencils. There was a lull in the shop around dinner time and you decided to color his body in while there was some silence.

****

“Hello, this is Bryce, how can I help you?”

“Hi, you’re, you’re Y/N’s boss right?”

“Yes, who’s this, Wait, are you that Tom fella? No distracting her at work.”

“Of course not sir, I wouldn’t. I was just wondering, she told me you might go to her graduation.”

“That’s right.”

“I was wondering if maybe, maybe you could get a second ticket? I wanted to surprise her, but I wouldn’t know how to get a ticket.”

“Do you think she would want you there?”

“I don’t, I would hope so, I mean, I don’t know how to ask her without giving away that I want to surprise her.”

“Well I’ll ask her, hold on.”

“Right now?!”

“Yes, just you wait a minute.”

****

Bryce strolls out of his office rolling his eyes, “some random asshole who doesn’t know what our cancellation policy is. Trying to cancel our appointment for tomorrow and get his money back at the same time.”

“Huh, weird that he asked for you.”

“Well I’m his artist, makes sense.”

“Yeah, totally,” you nod, eyeing Bryce as he sits on the stool next to you.

“Looks good so far,” he nods as you shade in his neck.

“Thanks,” you hum, changing the color for his face, slightly darker color to contrast the light from the window you would add later.

“So, your graduation.”

Your face drops and you stop coloring. He doesn’t want to go. Or he is too busy.

“You don’t haveta go, stupid for me to invite you, it’s whatever,” you sigh.

“No, no I was going to ask if I could get two tickets, for Adrien and I.”

“He’d wanna come?”

“What’s my husband gonna do? Sit and look pretty? We’re not open on Sundays he won’t have work.”

“I’d love to get you two tickets.”

****

“Do you like your presents?”

You giggled, looking through the box of lingerie.

“You didn’t need to get me all these.”

“But I want a photo shoot,” he whines.

You pick up a small handwritten card.

For you princess, I expect photos of you in all of them. Xx Tom

“You’ll get a photo shoot mister,” you laugh, putting your phone on speaker and taking off your clothes.

They were from an online store, all in the sizes you sent him. There were more elaborate pieces but you picked up a lacy red bralette with matching red lace panties. Most of the lingerie was red.

“Is red your favorite color?”

“How’d you know?”

“Just a guess.”

“You look so fucking good in red princess. Wait FaceTime me.”

“Okay okay,” you say, hanging up and moving to FaceTime.

“Fuck I didn’t know you’d be naked for me,” Tom groans, laying on his bed, you could see he was shirtless and were hoping there was nothing on underneath.

“Go ahead baby, put on those pretty little numbers on for me,” he says as you prop your phone up on your bedside table.

You put on the first red lacy set, posing for Tom. The camera slowly moves lower to his hand gripping his cock as he jerks off.

“Don’t come too soon, got lots more to show you.”

You show him the same set in black, causing him to bite his lip and thrust into his hand.

The next bit is a little more elaborate, lots of tiny hooks to clip in the back, and you struggle for a bit, laughing when you trip over your own two feet and Tom sits up, concerned you hurt yourself.

“I’m fine,” you laugh, getting the last hook done. You turn back to him, showing off the red lace corset that made your tits look so good, right down to where it trailed off into a lace trim hanging right above your bare pussy.

“Love this one, wanna leave marks all over your chest, tease those hard nipples of yours, shit, so pretty,” he says, hand moving faster.

“Have 911 on hold while I take this off,” you joke, fingers struggling again to unhook it. Once you do you put your hands on your knees and mock being out of breath.

“Are you okay? You don’t gotta try the others on, it’s fine,” Tom starts but you cut him off.

“Are these crotchless panties?” You gasp and look up at him. He’s blushing a little and nods.

“You don’t needa wear them, thought they’d be fun, I don’t know, don’t worry about it.”

“No Tom, I fucking love them, holy shit I could come just thinking about how useful these could be.”

You quickly slide them up your legs, fingers spreading your lips, loving how snug the fabric felt around your hips and ass but how bare and exposed your pussy was.

“Look so pretty, come on, go lie on the bed and play with your pussy,” he says, camera shaking a little as his hand speeds up.

“In these?” You ask, laying on the bed and tilting your phone so he could see your fingers move down your chest, pinching each of your nipples.

“Yes, fuck yourself with those panties, wanna see if they work,” he grunts and you follow through, fingers dipping lightly into yourself, the hole in the panties perfect for this.

“Go ahead princess stuff yourself full for me.

“Shit,” you whine, fucking yourself with your fingers.

You could hear his moans get throatier, you knew he was going to come.

“Fuck, touch your clit, come on baby,” he whines and you do just that, feeling yourself get closer and closer.

“Tom, fuck,” you groan.

“Come for me princess,” he says, his voice deep and gravelly.

Your fingers speed up and you come like a horny teenager with a cry of his name.

He comes right after, and you bring the phone up to your face, giggling a little as he licks his lips.

“Feel like a fucking teenager right now.”

“Yeah?”

“Hella horny all the time, sexting.”

“Wish you were here,” he sighs, hand running through his hair.

“Me too,” you yawn.

“How are you tired it’s like 6pm there.”

“Been working nonstop on your projects, finally finished them today after pulling an all-nighter. Gotta pass them in tomorrow.”

“Can I see them?”

“Course. But I’m gonna sleep now. And you should too! It’s late over there.”

“You’re right.”

“Goodnight Tom.”

“Night princess.”

***

“You should try juuling,” Tom says nonchalantly.

“What?” You almost choke, smoke exhaling out of your nostrils, you cough for the first time while smoking in three years.

“To help you stop smoking, you told me you wanted to stop, eventually, heard juuling helps.”

You roll your eyes at the boy on the other end of the FaceTime call.

“Sure,” you say, “just, I’m graduating today, got some nerves to shake out.”

“But you did it, and your portrait professor said yours was the best work she’s seen this year.”

“Yeah, thank you for your pretty face.”

“Of course,” he grins.

“Where are you right now?” You ask, the bed behind him not his own, he never said he had any filming or press. His next press thing was a week from now in Mexico according to him. Your heart nearly falls out of your chest, what if he’s at another girl’s place? You know you never said anything about seeing other people, you were just messing around, why did what he did in his free time matter to you?

Sure you texted every day, not just sexted. You learned about his friends, his likes, his dislikes, anything and everything, all the little fun facts about him. But that was just getting to know the person you’re sleeping with, right?

He must’ve seen the look of confusion mixed with hurt on your face because he sat up and his eyes widened.

“Nevermind, doesn’t matter, I haveta, I gotta go.”

You were going to wait for him to answer but you didn’t want to embarrass yourself even more so you hung up quickly.

“Fuck,” you say, tears stinging your eyes as you finish your cigarette and immediately start another one.

“Hey! Y/N, we gotta get going- fuck, what’s wrong?” Lily asks as she joins you on your balcony.

“Nothing, I’m fine,” you say, sniffling as you take a long drag.

“Clearly you’re not fine you’re crying, what’s wrong?”

“I just, I’m an idiot.”

“What?”

You silently finish your cigarette, Lilly rubbing your back as you stub the end into your ashtray.

“I think Tom was at someone else’s place, like in someone else’s bed.”

“Oh.”

“It’s stupid, we never said we were a thing this was just, we’re just fooling around so it doesn’t matter what he does in his free time.”

“Did you hear what he had to say?”

“No, feel like a fucking idiot, didn’t wanna embarrass myself in front of him anymore.”

“You should ask him out.”

“Huh?”

“Tell him you wanna be official, wanna be boyfriend girlfriend or whatever. It’s obvious you’ve got feelings for him.”

“Nah, he’s, he's famous, he’d never be around,” you shrug.

“Okay, But doesn’t change how you feel. So put on your big girl panties, stop crying, we’ve got a graduation to get to.”

“Don’t gotta leave for a few hours.”

“Two.”

“Okay, so I’m going to smoke this entire pack of cigarettes then we can graduate.”

“You’re seriously going to stand here and chain smoke?”

“Yep,” you nod, grabbing another cigarette.

“Just call him back, call him once and see what’s up, okay? Don’t be stupid and sound like an old lady for graduation.”

“Fuck off,” you groan.

“Fine, but just, call him okay?”

“Whatever,” you grumble.

Lily sighs and leaves you on the balcony alone. You look back at your phone. Nothing. It didn’t matter anyways, maybe you scared him off enough that you wouldn’t have to deal with the messiness that came with feelings.

You shrugged, wiping the stupid fucking tears from your eyes, grabbing another cigarette. Maybe you would get a juul or whatever they were called, cigarettes were fucking expensive and as your apprenticeship got closer you realized how fucked you were. It only made her angrier.

You couldn’t think about that now. Instead, you focused on the ring of smoke you blew from your mouth, the burning sensation you felt in your lungs.

You don’t know how long you stood there, smoking as the sun got higher in the sky and the bustling life of Queens began to start. It was a Sunday so everyone was going to church or catching up on errands.

You heard a knock on the door to your tiny apartment and the door swing open. You ignore it, thinking it might be Lily’s girlfriend here so you all could travel to graduation together.

You finish your cigarette, the knocking on the door starting up again.

“Who the fuck, Lily, who is it?” You shout, making your way back inside, closing your balcony door. You toss your pack and lighter on your bedside table before walking the very few steps to your front door.

“Lily, where the fuck are you?” You groan before unlocking the door and swinging it open.

“Who the fuck-,”

“Surprise?”

Tom was standing in front of you, wearing a really nice suit, eyes red.

“Oh. Oh!” Him in a different bed, acting sort of weird over the past few days made sense.

“I’m sorry. I, I was going to surprise you at your graduation but when you asked where I was I didn’t want you to think that I was with someone else or something, and I’m sorry if you don’t want me to be here I just thought I didn’t wanna wait until May to-,”

You cut him off pressing your lips against his, taking him off guard he stumbles back, arms wrapping around your body to draw you tight against him.

“I want to see you too,” you mumble against his lips, shutting the door behind him.

“Hey, glad you liked your surprise,” Lily says, breaking the two of you apart.

His hands were still tight on your waist, your hands cupping his face, you just nodded, looking at Tom who stared right back at you.

“I’m glad you’re here,” you say, smiling.

“I think I’m even happier that I’m here.”

“Yeah?”

“Yep.”

“Prove it,” his eyes dart between your lips and your own eyes.

“Okay, so I’m going to meet Lexie downstairs for coffee, if I don’t see the both of you down there in 30 minutes so we can get to graduation on time I swear to god I’ll kill you,” Lily interrupts and you sigh, forehead pressed against Tom’s.

“Bye Lily,” you shout as she slams the front door.

“Missed you,” you say as you lead him the short way past your kitchen into your bedroom.

“Missed you too princess,” he says, kissing down your neck.

“Now it’s your turn not to leave any marks,” you say, “don’t wanna look trashy when I walk the stage.”

“So I can leave marks here?” He asks, hands moving to grope your breasts.

“Fuck, please,” you whimper, tugging at his suit coat.

“Missed yer kiss,” Tom says, lips meeting yours again as you both struggle to undress each other.

“Don’t have lotsa time,” you say, pushing him back so you can quickly slip out of your sundress.

“Fuck, that’s one of the sets that I gotcha, you like it?”

You nod as he quickly gets out of his clothes, watching as you toss your bra and panties to the side.

“Fuck, Missed yer tits,” he groans, accent thicker, voice rougher.

“Touch me, come on, no time,” you say, moving to grab a condom from your bedside table.

“How are we gonna,” he says gesturing to your bed.

“I know it’s not as good as your king bed. Actually it’s garbage compared to your bed but it’s all that’ll fit in this fucking room,” you say, pushing him down on your twin bed.

You straddle his hips, grinding down on his hard cock as he plays with your tits, sucking and marking them as much as he can.

You hurriedly slip the condom onto his cock and sit on his cock, his teeth gliding against your nipple as you do.

“Fuck, Tom,” you whine as his hands grip your ass, encouraging you to move.

“Come on, not much time,” he says as you start to bounce on his lap.

“Fuck,” you groan, your fingers digging into his shoulders as you move quicker.

“That’s what we’re doing.”

“Shhh,” you whimper, a finger moving to your clit, rubbing it eagerly. He kisses you hard, his lips telling you something without words.

You didn’t want to admit it but you were so excited he was here, if you had to sext one more time you would lose your mind. And whether you would say it out loud or not, you didn’t really want to sleep with someone else to relieve the tension you felt since that night. Your tongue met his in your mouth, his touches softer tonight than a little bit ago, tender. You both reached your highs pretty quickly and Tom would’ve been embarrassed save for the fact that he’s waited so long for this and the sight of you on top of him, the way your lips felt against his, he was a goner, in every sense of the word.

“Wow,” you say as Tom helps you off of him.

“Missed yer sex,” he laughs, taking the condom off as you start to get dressed.

“I’m very grateful you’re here.”

“I think that Manhattan could hear your box spring.”

“Well now they all know how good I’m getting it.”

“What’re your plans later tonight?”

“Well, was gonna go out to like an early dinner late lunch with Bryce and Adrien. Wait how did you even get a ticket to my graduation?”

“Asked Bryce actually.”

“Yeah? How is Adrien going?”

“That’s his husband right? Not sure,” he says, getting dressed as well.

“Hmm, well we’ll see him there. I’ll be right back gonna run to the bathroom make sure I look presentable.”

“I think you look beautiful.”

“Thanks buddy, but we just fucked so I’d like to make sure it doesn’t look like that at my graduation.”

“Good plan,” he laughs, buttoning his shirt.

You make your way to the bathroom, peeing before brushing through your hair. Your sundress showed off your sleeves and upper back tattoos so you grabbed the sunscreen.

“Lather me up,” you say, handing Tom the sunscreen.

“Aren’t you going to be wearing a gown?”

“Nah, it’s art school, we have the hat things, whatever they’re called, but we just wear those and call it a day.”

Tom shrugs, pulling you down onto his lap, he leaves gentle kisses along your tattoos before applying the sunscreen to it, rubbing it into your skin.

“Ready to go?” You ask, about to move from your position on his lap.

He shakes his head and you frown, tilting your head curiously, “wha-,”

He kisses you, hands cupping your face, thumb rubbing your cheek. You swipe your tongue across his lips but he pulls back, “nuh uh.”

“What?”

“Lily is going to kill us, let’s go, I’ve got a special lady to cheer on.”

“Oh? Special?”

He nods as you reluctantly get off his lap, “she’s pretty great, I’ll have to introduce her to ya eventually.”

“Eventually,” you nod, pulling him out of your room. You grab your purse and your grad cap from the kitchen counter.

***

“Y/N, Y/L/N,” the dean of the college says and you grin as you walk on stage, shaking his hand and taking your diploma. The crowd is cheering and you definitely couldn’t seen Bryce, Tom or Adrien in it but you knew they were there. Cheering you on, somewhere.

The ceremony ended a little while after all the names were called and you all threw up your grad caps in the air, you felt cheesy doing it but here you were, a wide smile on your face as you tossed it up in the air with the rest of your class.

***

“So Tom, you’ve been acting since you were little?” Bryce asks as you all sit at the booth of a small diner near Tattoo Dice, the same shop you and Bryce got coffee at a little bit ago.

“Yes,” he nods, hand resting on your thigh.

“What’s your favorite thing you’ve ever acted in?” Adrien asks.

“I know people probably expect me to say the MCU and Spiderman but I quite enjoyed doing Billy Elliot when I was younger.”

“Would you ever do musical theater again? Or theater? Or will you stick to the big screen?”

“You know, I really loved theater, so who knows maybe I’ll make a musical theater revival. I’d haveta work on my voice first but yeah, maybe.”

“And your new movie comes out soon right? The new Spiderman?” Bryce asks.

“Yep, I start the press tour in like a week? Just about.”

“So you travel a lot?”

“Okay, let’s cool it with the 20 questions,” you laugh, “let’s not scare him away.”

“Oh I don’t scare easily,” Tom smiles, his thumb rubbing soothing circles into your thigh.

This was the first time any of your hooks up or, you didn’t want to say this and jinx it, any of your boyfriends met Bryce and Adrien, the closest you’d ever come to actual parents.

Maybe Tom knew you were nervous, hell everything about you gave it away. Your leg was bouncing up and down, his hand didn’t stop your leg from moving, just rested it there, which was comforting.

“So, you own the shop is that right?” Tom asks, “and Adrien, you’re the shop’s piercer?”

“Yep, opened Tattoo Dice 19 years ago.”

“And Y/N will be, what’s it called, she’ll learn how to tattoo from you?”

“Yeah, she’ll be my apprentice, she’s going to get started on synthetic skin first, so she gets the feel of the tattoo needle, then she’ll learn basic health and safety of tattooing, stuff she’s already learned since she’s gotten so many tattoos and is the front desk attendant but she’ll get certified officially while apprenticing.”

“So it’s a lot of work huh?”

“She’ll be working hard but that’s what she’s always done so I’m not worried.”

“You’re too kind Bryce,” you say, blushing a little.

“I’ve got no doubt you’ll be fantastic,” Tom says, kissing your cheek.

“So, we start my training tomorrow?” You ask as the four of you stand outside the coffee shop. Tom had got you both a taxi back to your place, Bryce and Adrien would head back to their apartment above the shop.

“Actually, why don’t we start next Monday?”

“Monday? What will I do until then?”

“Relax? Have a little break? You’ve trained the person taking your place, you can still work your evening shifts if you want, but you don’t have to.”

“Gotta pay rent so yeah I think I’ll work this week.”

“Don’t be afraid to take some time off, relax, you deserve it.”

“I will, promise.” “Alright, there’s your taxi, get lost, and congrats kid,” Bryce says, pulling you into a hug. You relax in his arms, and laugh as Adrien hugs the both of you.

“Okay, okay, relax, rest, get lost,” you say, pushing out of their hug.

“Congrats,” Adrien says as you slip into the taxi with Tom.

“Congrats grad,” Tom says, lips gently kissing right below your ear.

“Cheeseball,” you say, his fingers intertwining with your own.  

“That does not sound tasty.”

“No it really doesn’t,” you laugh.

The ride back to your apartment was quiet, save for a few comments from Tom about the other driver’s here, how terrifying they all were, with little care for pedestrians or other cars.

“Guess that’s what it’s like in New York,” you shrug as Tom pays the taxi driver.

“So, nightcap?” He asks as you bring him up to your apartment.

“It’s like 6pm it’s way too early for a nightcap,” you laugh, “but I can, I can think of other things we can do to occupy our time.”

“Oh yeah? What did ya have in mind princess?” he asks, his mouth ghosting over your neck.

“Why don’t we go to my room and find out?”

“Your friend isn’t home?”

“Nah her and Lexi will be with their families and then at Lexi’s place, we’ve got a whole 500 square feet to ourselves.”

“You don’t even have a living room.”

“Hey, I’ve got a twin bed and a balcony that’s all I’ll ever need.”

“Whatever you say,” he sighs.

“Come here,” you say, pulling him close, lips meeting his.

You stumble back towards your room, fumbling with the door as Tom’s hands glide under your dress, gripping your ass.

“Missed your hands,” you say as he slaps your ass, your dress bunched at your waist as he pushes you down onto your bed.

You pull your dress over your head as you move up your bed, watching as Tom gets undressed.

You start to take off your bra but he stops you, hand wrapping around your wrist.

“Lemme undress you baby,” he says, straddling your hips and kissing up your stomach. He kisses the tops of your breasts before making his way back to your lips, leaving as many marks as he can on the way up.

“Tom, fuck,” you groan as his hands move to unclip your bra, tossing it to the side.

“Lemme make ya feel good princess,” he says before taking a nipple into his mouth, eyes watching your face contort in pleasure as his fingers play with the other one before switching sides. His hips grind down against yours and you so desperately wanted to get his underwear off, so you could feel him but you decided to be patient, decided it would be worth the wait.

He makes his way back down your body, fingers tugging down your panties, “practically dripping for me, you excited to see me or something?”

“As if you aren’t,” you huff, growing impatient as he breathes against you, so close to where you want him.

“Be patient for me, okay? Almost there,” he says, before kneeling on the floor in front of the bed, tugging you down so your legs are propped up on his shoulders.

You immediately moan at the sensation of his tongue against your clit, slowly lapping at it before moving to your entrance, licking through your folds.

“Fuck come on,” you groan, hands flying to his hair.

“Tug away baby, won’t give you what you want until you’re patient for me.”

You whine, hands tugging at him, frustrated, you lay your head against your bed and let him tease you.

He grins against you and you feel his finger push inside you, tongue making gentle strokes against your clit.

“Good girl,” he says, another finger pushing into you, he starts to pick up the pace, fucking you with his fingers in earnest.

“Fuck come on Tom, make me come,” you say, the knot in your stomach forming way too quickly.

His lips wrap around your clit, sucking gently while fucking into you harder.

His teeth graze your clit and you come with a cry of his name, pulsing against him. His fingers slip out of you as he kisses your thighs, dropping them to the side of his shoulders.

“Missed you,” he says, kissing his way back up your body.

You’re still horny as fuck, you wanted him to get a move on so you grabbed his shoulders tugging him on top of you, “fuck me, please.”

“It’d be my pleasure,” Tom smiles, kissing you softly, too soft for what you’re about to do.

“Come on,” you say, reaching for your bedside table grabbing a condom from the drawer.

“Those been sitting there waiting for me?”

“I was getting ready for the end of May, gotta stock up.”

“So smart,” he says, pushing his underwear down his legs and tosses them to the side.

You rip open the condom and help him slide it down his cock, he groans as you jerk him off, kissing down your neck as he hikes your thigh up around his waist.

“Come on, fuck me,” you whimper as his cock rubs against your folds.

“This what you want princess?” He asks, bottoming out, smirking as you cry out his name.

“Let’s go,” you say, your hips moving up to grind against his.

“All yours tonight princess,” he says, one hand holding himself up while the other cups your face, kissing you as he begins to move.

Tonight wasn’t any less pleasurable than the night a few weeks ago, although the way he made you feel was very different.

He wasn’t any gentler with his thrusts, but his movement was more deliberate, more meaningful.

“Come on, make me come, baby,” you say, arms wrapped around his neck, playing with the curls at the nape of his neck.

“Gotcha princess,” he says, hand moving between the two of you to rub your clit, pushing you closer to the edge.

“Yes, fuck, make me come around your cock, please,” you whine and his lips capture yours, swallowing your moans as you come.

His thrusts get faster and sloppier, your legs wrapped around his waist.

“Feel so, feel so fucking good,” he says, voice deeper.

“Come for me, please, wanna feel you Tommy,” you whine and he groans, face tucked into your neck as he comes, hips slowing to a stop.

“Wow,” you laugh as he pulls out of you, sitting up and taking the condom off.

“Still good?”

“Don’t know how long I’ve been waiting for that.”

“Hmmm, three weeks? Give or take?” He asks, sticking his tongue out at you.

“Shut up,” you laugh, sitting up and kissing him. Something about the way he kissed you, it wasn’t needy like he would never see you again, but just his lips, soft and warm and against yours.

“Needa smoke, hop off me Holland,” you say against his lips and he nods, getting off the bed.

You open your closet grabbing two t-shirts and slipping one over your head, tossing the other one at Tom.

“The view from the balcony is really pretty, I’ll be right back,” you say, kissing his cheek before grabbing your panties.

You wink at him before going to the bathroom, peeing and splashing some water on your face. When you go back to your room you grab your smokes and lighter from your bedside table. You watch Tom lean against your small balcony railing, feet crossed and head tilted towards the sunset.

You grab sleep shorts and pull them up before stepping onto the balcony.

“Hey handsome,” you say, arms wrapping around his waist from behind, kissing his neck.

“Hey to you too,” he says, relaxing into your arms.

“Told ya the view is pretty,” you say, face tucked into his neck.

You feel Tom pause, unsure of his next words.

“My favorite is when it’s late out, not all the lights are off, obviously, it’s New York, but when most of them are off, past midnight usually, you can see all the stars in the sky.”

“We should do that,” he mumbles, hands resting over yours.

“Good idea,” you nod, unwrapping your arms and slipping next to him.

He watches as your black acrylics tap against the railing, one hand fiddling with your pack of cigarettes and lighter.

“What is it?”

“I should quit these things.”

“I mean, I’m not going to tell you no, but if that’s what you want, that’s what you should do.”

“Maybe I’ll get that juul or the gum or patch or whatever, cigarettes cost so fucking much anyways, gotta cut costs somewhere and I’d rather not live off of ramen and popcorn for the next few months.”

“Up to you,” he says, watching you get a cigarette and hold up your lighter.

“Tomorrow, tomorrow’s another day, I’ll finish off the rest of my cigarettes and then I’ll stop.”

Tom raises his eyebrows at you and you shake your head, “I’m not every other smoker who says they’ll quit tomorrow and then tomorrow becomes the next day and the next day and so on, never said I was gonna quit before. But I think, I don’t know, it’s stupid really.”

“No, go ahead, what is it?”

“I feel like I’m opening a new chapter, art school is done, I’m gonna be a tattoo artist soon, hopefully, and-,”

“And you’ve got me.”

“Hmmm?” you ask, turning towards him.

“I mean, if you want, I just, I figured, I’d like to be a part of this new chapter of your life.”

“Yeah?”

“Sorry, I- if you don’t wanna, I can do, it’s,”

“Tom?”

“Yes?”

“Will you, fuck, this is so dumb, do you want to be my boyfriend?”

“I uh, sort of already assumed we were, you know, an item. So yes. I’ll be your boyfriend.”

“Dork.”

Before you realize what you’re doing you’re hugging him, arms tight around his neck, body as close as you could be to him in this moment. His arms wrap around your back almost immediately after you hug him. You stay in each other’s arms, just breathing, for some amount of time, time with Tom felt all too quick but drawn out at the same time. But you also really needed to smoke. You pulled away from him and pull out a cigarette.  

“Let me,” He says, nodding towards the lighter in your hand.

You quirk your eyebrow at him, handing it over. He attempts to flick the lighter on a few times, biting his lip in concentration.

You put your thumb over his, showing him how to pull the safety tab down to spark the lighter.

The two of you stare at the small flame of your lighter between you, illuminating each of his freckles and each of your tattoos as the sun sets over the balcony.

“Here,” he says as you slip the cigarette between your lips. He holds the lighter to it and you nod when it’s lit, taking a drag before turning away from Tom and blowing the smoke out of your lungs.

“I had to smoke cigars, for a movie once, but I wasn’t very good at it.”

“Not something you want to be good at,” you laugh.

His hands wrap around your waist from behind, chin resting on your shoulder as you finish your cigarette.  

“What do ya wanna do tomorrow?”

“Hmm, you don’t have somewhere to run off to? Your press thingy, what’s it called? In Mexico?”

“That’s next week, I uhm I’ve got my hotel for the week. We can go there if you want. It’ll be like a staycation for you.”

“Stay here tonight.”

“Huh?”

“Stay at my place, tonight, there’s a little breakfast place I want to take you to, about a block from here. Only if you wanna.”

“Of course I wanna girlfriend.”

“Oh my god shut up,” you laugh, finishing your cigarette.

“Okay, can I call you princess?” He says, lips pressing against your neck.

“Of course,” you say, “call me something else too,” you grind back against him.

“Oh yeah?”

“Come inside,” you say, putting your cigarette out in the ashtray as Tom kisses down the back of your neck.

He pulls you back in, closing the balcony door. You drop your lighter and cigarettes on the bedside table.

His hands are quick to tug your shirt over your head, planting kisses down your chest, smirking at the marks he left earlier.

“Gonna be a good slut for me and suck my cock?” He asks, hand cupping your pussy.

“Please,” you groan as his palm gently rubs against your clothed clit.

He guides you to your knees, one hand firm on your shoulder while the other tugs off his shirt.

His hands pull your hair out of your face as you push down his underwear, hand wrapping around his cock.

“Go ahead, be a good slutty princess for me,” he says, not pushing your head down but just watching as you wrap your lips around the head of his cock.

You gently lick up and down his cock, before starting to bob your head, his hips start to move against you and you can’t tell if it’s deliberate or not but you moan when you choke around him, breathing deeply through your nose.

“Look so pretty down on your knees for me, gonna make me come like a good girl?”

You moan again, feeling him twitch in your mouth as you still, letting his hips do all the work.

“Such a good slut for me, fuck, gonna come in your mouth princess,” he groans, hips stilling with your lips wrapped around the head of his cock.

He comes with a groan of your name followed by princess, and you couldn’t help but smile as he helped you up. You fucking loved that nickname.

“Your turn,” he grins as you pull your panties down and off your legs, “do ya, do you still have mine from- from,” you try to finish your question but he’s pushing you down on the bed, one hand wrapping around your wrists and pinned them to the bed, the other running up and down your side.

“God princess I used those to jerk off so many times, had to wash them eventually, still kinda smell like you, I’ll need a new pair when I leave this week.”

“Don’t think that’ll be a problem,” you giggle as he leaves butterfly kisses against your cheek.

“What are you, what are you doing?” you laugh.

“Kissing you, duh,” he says, before his lips meet your hot skin.

“Go on, eat me out baby, please,” you whine, hips moving to meet his own.

“I’m going princess, relax for me okay?” he asks, hand leaving your wrists, which you keep above your head.

He makes his way down your body, kissing as his hands spread your legs wide, he situates himself between them, kissing along your thighs as his fingers slip into your pussy.

“Fuck Tom,” you groan. He quickly brings his lips to your entrance, licking and kissing and just making you feel everything. He brings you to orgasm with his lips wrapped around your clit and three fingers pressing against your sweet spot.

“Taste so good princess,” he says, fingers still moving slowly inside of you as he makes his way up to your face, kissing up. You moaned at the taste of yourself on his lips, arms wrapping around his neck.

***

“I would love to shower with you but my shower is lucky to fit one person, the mere idea of two people in this shower will break it,” you laugh as Tom brushes his teeth.

“Fine, guess I’ll just haveta watch you shower.”

“Okay perv,” you joke as you wait for the water to warm up.

He’s wearing the t-shirt you gave him earlier, he’s small enough that it fits well, the only part that stretches is the sleeves, his biceps bigger than your own.

Once you showered you dried your hair, about to walk back to your room with the towel wrapped around you.

“You don’t wanna watch me shower?”

“No you weirdo,” you laugh and you hear him laugh in return, stepping into the shower.

You sit on your bed, drying your hair as best you can. You tried to think about how this all came to be. When all you wanted was to hook up with someone during your trip to London. You never, ever would have expected this, not in a million years.

“Whatcha thinking about?” he asks from your door and you almost jump off your bed, heart racing.

“Shit, how long’ve you been standing there?” “Just got outta the shower, not as fun as if we were in there together, gonna haveta try that at my hotel.”

“I’d like that,” you say, “come here, help me put lotion on my tattoos.”

“What?”

“Lotion. Gotta moisturize them so they still look good in 50 years.”

“Didn’t know that.”

“Well of course you wouldn’t.”

“Actually,” he starts, pulling you up to stand with him.

“What?” you laugh as he sits down in your place, tugging your towel off and sitting you down between his legs, your back to his chest.

“I’ve got a tattoo.”

“What?! Where?” you ask, turning your head to look for a tattoo somewhere that for some reason you didn’t notice before.

“Don’t laugh.”

“Why would I laugh? I wanna see it!”

“Here,” he says, his leg moving to rest on top of yours as he points to the bottom of his foot.

“You- you got a, what is that, is that a spider?! On the bottom of your foot?” You’re trying your best not to laugh.

“Told ya you’d laugh, yes, I’ve got a spider, had to get it done over twice, it hurt like a bitch.”

“Why would you, why,” you start before giggling.

“Hush and let me lotion you up,” he says, dropping his leg.

“Why the bottom of your foot? That’s like such a bad place for a tattoo, it’ll never last!”

“Well that’s kinda why, and because I’m an actor. Don’t want tattoos to get in the way of my work.”

“What- other actors have tattoos. But you’re very brave for getting the bottom of your foot tattooed, that must be painful.”

“You’d never get the bottom of your foot tattooed?”

“Fuck no, you kidding? No thank you, that’s a no zone for me.”

“Mhm,” he hums as his hands rub the lotion into the skin of your upper back and arms, taking his time to catch every part of each of your tattoos.

“Making me sleepy,” you say as his hands move to massage your shoulders. “Then let’s sleep,” he says, kissing your cheek.

“Gotta get dressed,” you mumble.

“Meh, it’s hot in here, we can sleep naked.”

“How’re we gonna fit here again?”

“Here,” Tom says, pushing your comforter and sheets down, moving the two of you so he’s laying on his back and you’re on your side, practically on top of him.

“This is comfortable for you?” you ask, hand resting on his chest.

“Mhm, you good?”

“Very comfy,” you say, yawning as his hand runs up and down your arm.

“Goodnight princess.”

“Night baby,” you say as sleep overtakes you.

***

“So, you do this a lot?” He asks as you curl up at his side on the bench in Central Park.

“Only when I’ve got free time and it’s nice out, it’s the perfect day for it,” you say, opening your sketchpad to a new page.

“And you just find someone to draw?”

“Normally I draw some of the people who live here, sometimes people sitting on benches around us, like to people watch, ever done it?”

“I’m sorry, people watch?”

“Yeah, sit somewhere and just observe people in their natural habitat, it’s fascinating.”

“Whatever you say,” he laughs, arm around your shoulder.

“It’ll be worth it, promise.” “I don’t doubt that,” he nods as you look around.

There’s a man who was sleeping peacefully on the bench across from you and you glance over his features, your pencil starting to sketch on the page.

“Him?”

“Yep, I think I’ve sketched him before, he’s normally running around everywhere, asking people for hugs, so I only got a quick sketch of his face, but this’ll be perfect,” you say, drawing out the bench.

You can feel Tom’s eyes on your sketchbook as you draw and if it were anyone else you’d be uncomfortable, not wanting them to see anything but a final product. But with him it was different. You were okay with showing him bits and pieces of your life you kept hidden.

“If you were to get tattooed by anyone, who would you want to tattoo you?”

“Probably Ryan Ashley.” “Who’s that?”

“Famous tattoo artist, she’s the first female winner of Ink Master, sorta paving the way for female artists in the mainstream. She does these amazing realistic jewelry pieces, always sort of wanted a chest piece, I’ve been saving it on the very rare chance that she’d ever tattoo me,” you ramble as you start to sketch the outline of the man’s body.

“You wouldn’t want to get tattooed by me?” “Are you telling me you’ve tattooed someone before?” You feel him nod against your head and you gasp, “Tom, you’re just full of surprises huh?”

“Yep, tattooed a little spiderman spider on someone’s leg, he let’s celebrities tattoo him all the time.”

“Fucking jealous you’ve gotten the chance to tattoo someone before I have.”

“I can guarantee you’d be a million times better than me.”

“Hope so, I’ve put all my time and effort into working at Tattoo Dice, I hope it pays off, hope that I put art on people’s skin that they appreciate.”

“I believe in you,” he says, eyes watching as people walk past, feeling comforted by the fact that nobody knows he’s here, none of his fans or paparazzi will be looking for him. He can spend time with you in public without worrying about being stopped every few feet for an autograph or a photo.

Someone looked at the both of you as they walked past, eyes pausing on Tom, who was just wearing sunglasses.

“to hide my unruly brow,” he explained when he put them on this morning.

“Is that like your disguise?” you asked him.

“Course, now nobody can tell it’s me.”

“Sure baby,” you shrugged, blushing a little when his hand slipped down to hold your own as you left your apartment.

You felt him tense and you looked up, “What’s wrong?”

The person kept walking. “Nothing, was scared they noticed who I was,” he whispers as you relax back against him, working more on the arms of the man on the bench.

“But you’ve got your sunglasses on, you’re Clark Kent,” you say.

“Wrong universe,” Tom smirks.

“You know what I mean,” you poke his side before concentrating back on the sketch.

It had to be at least an hour when you were satisfied with how it looked, sitting up to brush away some eraser shavings.

“How’s it look?” You ask, looking up at Tom.

“Pretty damn good,” he says, grinning back at you.

The man on the bench wakes up with a start, grumbling to himself. You quickly rip the page off your sketchbook and get up.

“Want me to-,”

“I’m fine,” you tell Tom before moving the few feet to the man’s bench.

“Whaddya want?” He asks, voice rough.

“I uh, I’m an artist. Draw people, and well, here,” you say, awkwardly holding out the sketch of the man to him.

“What the- is this me? This is me! Wow,” the man says and your brows furrow with worry when his eyes start to tear up.

“I’m sorry I didn’t ask permission before drawing you, just looked so peaceful sleeping there and- oh!” You smile as he pulls you into a tight hug.

“This is, this is the best thing I’ve ever seen, I’ll keep it forever, and I mean that,” he says as he let’s you go.

“Well, I’m glad you like it, have a good day,” you smile as he picks up his backpack and shopping cart full of belongings.

“You too dear,” he smiles, wiping a tear from his eyes before walking away, holding the sketch tight to his chest.

You turn back to Tom, sure your face is lit up with a smile.

“You’ve done it yet again princess.”

“Huh?” you ask, sitting down next to him.

“You’re gonna change lives with that art of yours.”

“Sucha dork,” you giggle.

“Cm’ere, miss yer kiss,” he says, kissing you gently as his fingers intertwined with your own.

***

“Gonna miss you,” you mumble, face tucked into his shoulder as he hugs you.

“Already miss you.”

“Dork,” you giggle.

You were standing outside your apartment waiting for Tom’s taxi to take him to the airport.

“I wanna see the first tattoo you do okay?”

“Obviously, I’ll see if Adrien can video it for me.”

The taxi pulls up and Tom pulls you tighter against him, like he didn’t want to let go. And to be fair, neither did you.

“Okay, go before they charge you extra for making them wait.”

“Alright,” He says, kissing you, it wasn’t a soft sweet kiss, or a desperate I want you kiss. But a this is the last time I’ll see you for a little bit and I’ll miss you kiss. And honestly? You think you loved those kisses the most. You pulled away first.

“Get outta here Holland,” you say and he laughs, tossing his suitcase into the backseat with him. As the taxi drives away his hand presses against the window and he mouths “I’ll miss you.”

____________________________________

Tag list (tagged people who asked for a part two/asked to be tagged): @hcllander @spideyyeet @particularspider @wooowsworld @ruefulposts @screeching-student-unknown @jennypizzaholland @april-14-blog @asphalt-cocktail @rageyoudamnednerd @superherosthings 

[hopeaterart]

The shittiest family reunion in the history of ever: chapter 6

This was supposed to be the chapter where Holly kicks Polnareff’s ass, but I changed plans at the last second. I also sprinkled in some soft Jotaro/Kakyoin content because this fic is nothing if not self-indulgent. And including Bandanaboi’s ‘Jotaro is accidentally a banchou’ idea.

Jotaro quickly made his way out of the classroom, making his way through the sea of students with Kakyoin not far behind him, holding hands and making sure that he wouldn’t lose the redhead. Kakyoin simply followed him, visibly uncomfortable with all the attention he had gained as ‘the new transfer student with red hair’.

Jotaro slowed down as they came outside, slowing down so Kakyoin could stand next to him and getting his phone out. The redhead stood close, reading the text messages between the taller boy and his mother. “What’s Kitahara?” He asked, turning his head toward Jotaro.

He shrugged, putting his phone back in his back pocket. “She’s talking about a family sushi restaurant. It’s not right next to our street, but you can easily walk there. And beside their sushi, they also make ramen, kaisendon, udon, and kare raisu. I don’t eat the kare raisu I think it tastes like shit, but the sushis are good, the rest is okay, and apparently I have a ‘difficult palate’.” He then did air quotes to emphasize his point, and Kakyoin snorted.

“Oi, Kujo!” The two boys turned toward the voice, seeing a bunch of other students come toward them, all looking like delinquents.

Jotaro groaned, and Kakyoin turned toward him. “You know them?”

“Yeah. They’re a bunch of punks I helped win a fight once, and now they won’t leave me alone. Come on, let’s go-” Jotaro had the time to grab Kakyoin’s hand and turn away, the redhead in tow, before a guy with way two many ear piercings was next to Kakyoin with a hand on Jotaro’s shoulder.

“How ya doin’, Kujo?” He asked. Kakyoin heard Jotaro take a deep breath, his shoulders rising with it, followed by a hiss of ‘five-foot rule, Sugawara’, and the boy’s hand shot off his shoulder, taking a few steps back as Jotaro turned his head toward the group.

“What.” He finally said, and a small girl with bleach blond walked up. The face-mask covering the lower part of her face, the dark eyeshadow around her eyes and the very long-skirt reminded Kakyoin of old-style sukebans. “The punks from Karasuno are starting to act up again. What do we do?”

Jotaro narrowed his eyes. “Are they harassing anyone from school? And is Noguchi back on his bullshit?”

“No, and no.” The small girl answered.

“Then don’t do anything. If they come anywhere near the school, you guys can handle it. If Noguchi comes back with re-enforcement, don’t try anything and come get me as fast as possible. Got it, Sakurai?”

The girl groaned. “It’d be easier to ‘get you’ if you actually gave one of us your phone number!”

“Fuck off!”

“Hum, excuse me?” Kakyoin suddenly said, gaining the attention of the small group. “I’m currently living with Jotaro-san. If you have a message you want to relay to him, I could probably help.” He then got out his own phone, pointing at it as if to emphasize his point.

The group looked at him as if he had grown a second head. “And who are you supposed to be?” A guy with a pompadour and bandage over one of his eyes asked, and Kakyoin nearly dropped his phone in surprise.

It was the guy he had puppeted the nurse to stab in the eye on his first day, back when he was being mind-controlled.

“... Kakyoin Noriaki. I’m new.” He finally answered in a small voice, looking to the ground as he felt shame well up. He looked up at Jotaro as he felt the taller boy squeeze his hand.

“If any of you know what’s good for you, you’ll leave Kakyoin-kun out of this shit.” He hissed, looming over the group of teenagers. The only one who didn’t back down was the diminutive blond (Sakurai, her name was Sakurai), who simply nodded and got her notebook out, turning toward the redhead.

“Alright, but I still need to be able to contact you fast. Kakyoin?” The redhead raised his head, and after exchanging numbers with Sakurai, the two boys parted way with the group of thugs.

Jotaro pulled his hat over his face. “Yare yare daze...” 

Kakyoin looked up at him, lifting an eyebrow. “Didn’t know you were in a gang.”

“I’m not.”

“They seemed pretty convinced you were in charge.”

“If I don’t help them beat up the delinquents from the other schools, they always end up coming after me. If I help them, they both leave me alone, and I get to punch out assholes.” Jotaro explained, Kakyoin nodding slowly.

“What’s the deal with this Noguchi person?” He asked, tilting his head. Jotaro groaned.

“My bully until I snapped in 2nd grade and started beating up people. We regularly had fist fights until 9th grade, and then he asked his parents to put him in a different school because I ended up putting a teacher in the hospital for being a creep. He still tries to harass me sometimes, and ” Kakyoin blinked in surprise.

“You put a teacher in the hospital?”

“I put several teachers in the hospital. Some of them are still recovering.” Jotaro told him, shrugging nonchalantly. “I hate people who try to use the weak for their own gain. My dad made sure to teach me that.”

-

“Alright, so we’ll have the usual family-size plate of sushi, with a bowl of ramen on the side for my brother.” Holly told the waitress, who nodded before walking off. Holly turned toward Jotaro. “Maybe you could-”

“No.”

“You didn’t even let me finish!”

“I’m not going to pay for that one time I ordered kare raisu. It tasted like shit anyway.”

“It’s basic decency and not going against the law!”

“It was bad and they should feel bad for serving it!”

“So... uh... Kujo-san.” Kakyoin started, turning toward Sadao and trying to avoid the argument. “You’re a musician?”

Sadao blinked. “Uh... yeah. Pianist and song writer, but I can also play the guitar and drums.”

“Are you a solo artist?”

“No, me and my group have been together for... over twenty years, now that I think about it.”

“Uh.” Joey noted, joining the conversation. “You’ve been with your group for longer than you’ve been married to my sister.”

“Your group has also stayed together for longer than the Beatles.” Kakyoin noted, and Sadao laughed nervously.

“Yes, well... we’re practically partners in crime at this point. And we take breaks when we need to.” He noted. “We... used to be pretty infamous in our first few years. Shoko’s change from teen idol to jazz singer did ripples, and Yuichi and Kaede did not know how to stay out of trouble. Add to that our difficulties with agents...”

“What difficulties with agents?” Jotaro asked his father, turning toward him with a confused expression. “They all- all three of them- you guys always end up with cocaine addicts for agents, somehow!”

“Jotaro, being addicted to drugs isn’t a moral failing on their part.” Holly told her son, and Sadao nodded in agreement.

“No, but treating us like producing music is the only thing we’re good at is.” Sadao hissed. “Personally, I couldn’t be happier to never see these fuckers ever again.”

“You’re... surprisingly amoral.” Kakyoin noted, and the shorter man shrugged.

“I’ve been told that.” The discussion ended as their sushi and ramen was brought to the table, everyone thanking the waiter (Joey slightly behind the other four) before they started digging in.

“Anyway, Jotaro.” Holly piped up, turning toward her son. “Anything new happening at school?” The teenager shook his head between stuffing two sushis in his mouth.

“Any girlfriend?” Joey asked teasingly. Jotaro rolled his eyes. “A boyfriend, then?”

Jotaro shook his head, swallowing his bite. “I don’t. I’m not...”

“Jotaro, I’m sure we told you before, but your father and I don’t care whether or not you like boys instead of girls-”

“It’s not that.” The teen cut his mother off, shaking his head. “Can we talk about it at home? When we’re not in public?”

“Of course.” Holly reassured him, and the group resumed with eating their food, this time in silence.

About half-way through the dinner, a man with tall with hair and blue eyes approached them. “Excusez-moi,” He started, “j’ai besoin d’aide avec le menu, et je me demandais si vous pouviez m’aider?” Everyone looked at each other with confusion in their eyes, trying to decipher what the strange man had just said.

Holly finally took the reins. “Sorry, I didn’t understand... do you speak English?”

“Right! My apologies, mademoiselle, I didn’t realize.” The man excused himself with a smile that was just forced enough to put Kakyoin on edge. “I was asking if you could help me with the menu?”

“Literally the only good thing this restaurant serves is sushi, how difficult can it be read the menu- what?” Jotaro turned toward Kakyoin, who had put a hand on his shoulder. The redhead shook his head, a frown on his face.

“I have a bad feeling about this guy, like I saw him back when I... wasn’t myself. Just stay back, and be ready to call out your Stand.” The redhead muttered to him. Jotaro’s eyes widened, before nodding gravely as his mother invented the stranger to sit down at their table.

“My my, what a lovely little group we have here!” The man started. “Family, I suppose?”

“Why, yes! Well, beside Kakyoin-kun, he’s my son’s friend.” Holly declared cheerfully as said friend grabbed a napkin, cutting a strip of it with a knife he got out from his pocket. She blinked. “Kakyoin-kun, what are you doing?”

The redhead blinked, before smiling awkwardly. “Don’t worry, Ho- Seiko-san,” he remembered in the nick of time she liked to be called a different name in public. “Just making some origami.”

“Alright! Tell me when you’re finished, please?” Holly asked, and Kakyoin nodded. He quickly folded the paper, the discussions between the rst of the table’s occupants fading to background noises. If this guy really is on Dio’s side, then he won’t resist...

“Aaaaand ta-da~” Kakyoin exclaimed, showing off the small origami star to everyone at the table. Impressed sounds came up for everyone, Holly taking the star and passing it around.

“You did this with a napkin?” Sadao asked as the star ended up in his hand, an inquisitive expression on his face. Kakyoin nodded, and the older man flashed him a surprisingly cute smile. “You’ve got some talent, then.” The teenager blushed at the praise, but quickly snapped out of it as the paper was passed to the stranger. Moment of truth.

“Indeed, this is impressive!” He started, slowly lifting the little paper star to his neck. “You know... I know someone with a mark shaped just like that on the back of his neck...”

Called it. 

“STAND BACK, HE’S AN ENEMY STAND USER!” Kakyoin yelled, summoning Hierophant in a shower of watery green sparkles. Jotaro and Joey followed suit, the purple warrior appearing in a burst of stardust and a being with multiple fanged mouth in what looked like a sound’s wavelength.

At the same time, a strange knight-like being shimmered into existence next to the stranger, who clapped as if he was congratulating Kakyoin. “Bravo! How did you guess I was after them?”

The redhead’s mouth turned into a snarl, a watery hiss coming from Hierophant. “With DIO parading around naked every chances he gets, it’s kind of hard not to notice the literal tattoo on his ne-”

“Birth mark.” Joey suddenly said, his head turned toward Kakyoin with his eyes round like saucers. “It’s a birthmark, it’s not his, and we’re gonna have to talk about that later.”

“Oh? Awfully bold of you to assume there’s gonna be a later, Monsieur Joestar.” The stranger mocked Joey. A growl built up in the taller man’s throat, echoed and amplified by his Stand’s.

“Alright, alright, everyone calm down.” Holly called out, getting up and gesturing with her hands. “Let’s not fight inside of the restaurant. Causing a scene is the last thing we want. Kakyoin-kun?” She turned toward the redhead with an unusual harsh expression. When she saw the redhead flinch back in surprise, it softened. “We’ll talk about this... Dio person later, alright?”

“... Alright.”

“As for you,” the only woman in their group turned backtoward the stranger, glaring.”What is your name?”

“Why, it’s Jean-Pierre Polnareff!” He answered. 

Holly nodded, a forced smile appearing on her face as she folded her hands, slowly making her way to Polnareff. “Well then, Polnareff-san, I am Holly Kujo. And I-” She suddenly cracked her knuckles, yellow light and darks vines wrapping around her hands and forearms. “Will be your opponent.”

[jennycalendar]

2019 fic roundup

december was INSANE and i spent most of january dealing with the aftermath of Terrible Parents, but i am finally doing this! in nearly-february! good grief!

tagged by @catty-words​! always a delight, cori <3

Total 2019 Word Count: 541,906 Total 2019 Hits: 29,555 Other 2019 AO3 Stats: Kudos: 3,184; Comment threads: 787; Bookmarks: 509; Subscriptions: 223.

Total 2018 Word Count: 338,835 Total 2018 Hits: 22,374 Other 2018 AO3 Stats: Kudos: 2,192; Comment threads: 453; Bookmarks: 280; Subscriptions: 69.

links and titles to 2019 works (buckle up, folks.)

[btvs] imperfections (148,374 words) y’all know about the braveryverse already but i’ll bring up some good points: jenny and giles accidentally adopt the entire scooby gang. also faith gets some actual support and is actually eventually stable enough to date buffy. good times.

[btvs] deliberate obstruction (5,492 words) the one where jenny is petty as fuck and attempts to sabotage every single one of giles’s dates after their breakup. not her best look, but it was really fun to write jenny being Not Great. she deserves to have that option.

[btvs] arch-nemeses (2,171 words) who doesn’t love some of that good old-fashioned ripper au nonsense? particularly when it’s spike and ripper being confusing nemeses who sometimes drunkenly make out (jenny thinks this is very funny).

[btvs] sick day (3,097 words) written because someone should take care of giles, damnit! probably not jenny, tho. she’s not the best at it. lucky for her giles loves her so much.

[btvs] simpatico (10,096 words) sister fic to the grieving process! set circa btvs season six! jenny is connor’s awkward aunt! giles is a repressed disaster who’s still pining but refuses to admit it! 

[btvs] honesty’s the best policy (3,830 words) that one where giles and buffy are hit with a Truth Spell that means they say exactly what they’re thinking. is that all that bad for buffy? not too much. is it a little iffy when you’re a repressed watcher man who still haven’t told your girlfriend how much you love her? uh.

[btvs comics] i router, you giles (1,111 words) GOD this was written BEFORE i knew that giles and jenny were dating in the reboot comics and isn’t that a concept? a snarky-cute first meeting! ok not really that cute bc they just yell at each other a lot! but definitely snarky!

[btvs] transitional (3,152 words) good golly this is cute and i honestly forgot that i wrote it. which makes sense, bc there is a lot of stuff on this list. set in between season one and season two, in an attempt to bridge the giles/jenny gap between “awkwardly friendly coworkers” and “oh my god i think i like you”

[btvs] across the pond (5,323 words) FUN FACT this got nominated for a headline award and i’m SO PROUD OF THAT?! epistolary fic! giles leaves for england in s6 but without his wife! his wife is very mad and writes him VERY MANY LETTERS TO YELL AT HIM! perfect for those people who sometimes think “god, i wish jenny had been in s6 to yell at giles.” 

[btvs] very really married (66,987 words) giles and jenny got drunk-married in las vegas and are keeping the marriage going so they don’t look like terrible authority figures. giles does not want buffy to know about his fake wife. giles does not want his fake wife to know about his real slayer. giles has a lot of problems and it doesn’t help that he might be catching feelings. big mess.

[btvs] bad dreams (2,267 words) GILES/JENNY/ANYA IS BEST SHIP NEXT QUESTION

[btvs comics] an open mic enthusiast (2,250 words) yet another giles/jenny comic-reboot meet-cute written before i knew they were dating!!! this time: jenny gets to see giles playing guitar. repeatedly. because she keeps going back to watch him at the open mic.

[btvs comics] blindsided (2,024 words) my first (and definitely not last) giles/anya fic! a shorter version of a plot bunny i hope to chase down in 2020 (ahaha did i say that WHOOPS)

[btvs] uncharted (16,469 words) my jenny calendar day fic! also known as “jenny calendar has a guilt complex: a novella.” no prophecy dream outs jenny to the group -- but she tells them anyway. and blames herself. and breaks up with giles while she’s trying to Fix Things. absolute mess. (thank god there’s a happy ending, right?)

[btvs] on the mending of hearts (9,236 words) that giles/anya fic where giles shows up at anya’s failed wedding and sweeps her off her feet and they have sex in his hotel room! except uhhh there’s a lot more drama and crying and anya really just needs some cuddles, tbh.

[btvs] extracurricular activities (1,003 words) straight up this one BARELY counts as a 2019 fic. i wrote it back in 2016 and forgot about it and found it on my hard drive and wrote an ending to it. it’s tiny, but it’s cute! lots of early-relationship calendiles fluff, as is My Brand.

[btvs] cookie dough and boy talk (a remix) (3,976 words) dawn, but in the ripper au! she’s a precocious little bab and ripper babysits her and gets semi-adopted by joyce. it’s a thing.

[btvs] a history lesson (698 words) a brief ripper au interlude between jenny and dru. dru tries to point out that jenny and ripper are in love. jenny very unconvincingly denies it.

[btvs] faith, hope, and pancakes (3,236 words) ripper au, now with faith! and she gets to hang with college-age jenny! who is dating her idiot boyfriend ripper! the Most Fun of times.

[btvs] compromises (750 words) this....was supposed to be a three-sentence prompt but I Can’t Do That. giles and jenny discuss (read: jenny yells at giles about) giles attempting to attack angel on sight.

[btvs] valentine buzz (3,422 words) i wrote this in may lmao but i just REALLY WANTED to write fluffy braveryverse valentine’s day nonsense!!! lots of cuddles and kisses and softness abound in this fic.

[btvs] days in goodness spent (5,893 words) this fic's point was a little more abstract and a little less blunt than most of the rest of these, but i wanted to explore the concept of giles slowly going from idealizing jenny to genuinely loving her. i hope i did it justice.

[btvs] to have and to hold (7,861 words) giles and jenny get married in the braveryverse. that’s really all there is. also i posted this on my birthday (may 23rd) AND it is the 23rd fic on this list!!!! WILD!!!!!)

[btvs] saw her in the streetlight, making all the world bright (5,738 words) took me like a year and a half to write the first fic in the ripper au, lmao. in which jenny is a snarky eighteen-year-old, ripper is a snarky college dropout in a band, and neither of them are at ALL good at communicating. especially not ripper.

[btvs] perfect (1,465 words) ripper au: it’s revealed that jenny hasn’t had sex before. ripper handles this with his characteristic maturity and grace (just kidding lmao he FREAKS. but it’s bc he loves her.)

[btvs] respite (1,106 words) i wrote this after issue 5 of the reboot dropped bc i was very emotional about canon power couple giles and jenny. in retrospect, i gave giles’s emotional maturity WAY too much credit--esp. given what’s going on now--but it was still fun as heck to write.

[btvs] shouldn’t we be getting together (3,193 words) this fic’s existence is a combo of me reading a summer camp ya novel and liking the Aesthetic but not the Culture & me talking endlessly w/ @jackalopingintothevoid​ about ripper and jenny’s teenage dynamic. so many of these fics have her galaxy brain takes woven in and i KNOW she knows that. lov u, jack.

[btvs] fragmented (6,158 words) written because of that one time my brain was like “but what if jenny WAS haunting the school?” happy ending because it’s me and g/j deserve some kisses.

[btvs/hp crossover] buffy summers, muggle-born (22,070 words) i CAME BACK TO THIS in 2019 and wrote a few chapters and DROPPED IT LIKE A HOT POTATO. hopefully 2020 will bring me the courage to pick it up again!!!!!! who DOESN’T want a carelessly-mashed-together crossover where the scoobies and the golden trio are all going to hogwarts together for some reason????

[btvs] in bloom (8,452 words) this was SUPPOSED to be the end of the jenny-anya-tara trilogy. it was not. (more on that later.) this was also supposed to be a fic where giles and jenny get together. jenny and anya got together. writing things is wild sometimes.

[btvs] i still want to be your girl (35,165 words) straight up i am so proud of this fic! s7 au: jenny was chased out of town by angelus. giles does not know this. jenny has been working with angel in la, but left with faith to try and help defeat the first. giles is not the guy she remembers. (but jenny’s not exactly the lady giles remembers, either. so maybe things might work out.)

[btvs/leverage crossover] what’s in a name (4,421 words) sophie’s & jenny’s relationship to their names & identities always so totally fascinated me! this fic was my way of exploring that. (also i got to give giles and jenny a toddler. that was fun too.)

[btvs comics] live a little (6,700 words) i had so much fun coming up with a backstory for giles and jenny in the comics that i am kinda tempted to eventually try and do it again. this one was fun to write, tho.

[btvs] kind of like hydrogen peroxide (7,501 words) THIS was FUN. ripper au, but it explores both jenny’s longing for High School Normalcy AND ripper’s fucked-up relationship to magic. also senior prom is a thing.

[btvs] mending fences (6,093 words) sequel to the aforementioned epistolary fic! lots of first-person self-loathing from giles, but also a LOT of love for jenny and his kids. also the man really truly needs to stop repressing.

[btvs] her father’s daughter (1,982 words) 2020 will bring us another chapter of this fic i swear to GOD. literally there’s only one chapter up so i cannot even TALK about my plans for it but uhhh if you want giles and jenny and their three daughters pls feel free to go to that prologue and check it out.

[btvs] a thousand different ways we fell apart (4,888 words) the au fic to encompass all au fics! inspired by the comic reboot and me being like. christ. do they go through this ridiculous shit in EVERY universe? ....and then i wrote a fic where jenny was a space traveler looking through multiple universe to try and fix her marriage with giles. extra fun.

[btvs] no such roses (4,814 words) this one turned out a TINY bit rushed, but the concept of jenny bringing giles back from the dead is always something that i love exploring. i might come back and rewrite this, someday.

[btvs comics] no perfect choice (4,801 words) OOF. wrote this one after issue 8 dropped. a lot softer and more tender than what actually happened, tbh. maybe i will reread it again to make myself feel better about comic calendiles and their brutal split.

[btvs] family (3,545 words) wrote this one p early in the year and came up with an ending to it much later! ripper au: the story of how xander came to live with giles and leave his parents. angst-with-a-happy-ending abounds.

[btvs] a california january (2,206 words) jenny and giles attend a funeral together. that’s pretty much it. this is defs one of the best things i wrote this year, tho.

[btvs] how i survived my summer vacation (volume two) (25,027 words) swear to god this is gonna be the next thing i update. the braveryverse NEEDS to continue. it’s got married calendiles, for god’s sake.

[btvs] clear and impartial judgment (3,977 words) that fic i wrote when i got mad at a lack of resolution wrt helpless. like!!! giles drugged buffy!!! do we not get to talk about the psychological ramifications that would have on her???? (well. canon doesn’t. but i do.)

[btvs] sunshine ladies (10,188 words) THIS FIC WAS NOT SUPPOSED TO HAPPEN and i say that with incandescent love in my heart. i intended for the ‘verse to be giles/jenny, and then i intended it to be jenny/anya, and then i was like....jenny has two goddamn hands, and there’s foreshadowing here for endgame giles/jenny, and i wanna write some giles/anya. let’s fuckin go. (DEFINITELY writing another installment in 2020 about this iconic ot3 of mine.) 

[btvs] spirit-touched (4,769 words) the first smut i write and it’s calendiles ghost sex. i really think this is on brand for me, esp. considering that swath of asks in 2016ish where everyone wanted to know if ghosts could jack off. incredible.

[btvs] dear friend (28,865 words) this fic had such a rushed ending :( it’s a cute premise (you’ve got mail giles/jenny au!!!!!), but i lost interest halfway through, and as a writer i can rlly see that when i read it. another thing i might like to go back and rewrite at some point, tbh!

[btvs] familiar (2,034 words) AUGH i am SO proud of this fic. SO SO PROUD. it’s a concept i really can’t explain and the little twist at the end is something i really really like, so...just read it.

[miss fisher’s murder mysteries] unbearable (5,670 words) i need to write more mfmm in 2020 but the amount of good fic out there is deeply intimidating/delightful. this one was my little “what if it was phryne who thought jack was dead” and tbqh i had a lot of fun with it? bc pining phryne (who makes brief but extremely poignant appearances throughout the series) is an awkwardly, heart-meltingly sincere lady.

[ace attorney] man’s duty to society (544 words) wrote this as my first foray into aa fic while getting emo about miles edgeworth. would absolutely still die for that man.

[ace attorney] fancy running into you (5,887 words) lots of schmoopy narumitsu fluff! gregory edgeworth is alive! miles is trauma-free! phoenix is an artist! just!!! goodness!!!!!!!

[ace attorney] big sister (2,741 words) set in the same gregory-edgeworth-is-alive ‘verse: babey franziska comes to live with miles and his dad. she is a little impossible but miles kinda does love her.

[ace attorney] prince charming edgeworth and his incredible tux (8,042 words) this fic came from me being like “i want to write phoenix swooning over miles in a tuxedo and being like HE LOOKS LIKE A DISNEY PRINCE” and spiraled into something much longer!

[ace attorney] fate, choice, and everything in between (4,384 words) SOULMATE AU. nothing i love more than deconstructing soulmate aus. but like. in a romantic way. also phoenix and miles ARE soulmates and that is JUST facts.

Favorite Fic: I WROTE SO MUCH STUFF THO LIKE !?!??! how can one expect me to distill it to just one fic? i’ll make it my top threeL

a california january (I AM SO PROUD OF THIS FIC. it is soft and angsty and silly and devastating and tender. all the calendiles feels.)

i still want to be your girl (same mood!!! i’ve wanted to write this fic for literal years, and it’s one of those rare occasions where the picture in my head actually turned out BETTER when written out!)

sunshine ladies (this is like my giles/jenny/anya ship manifesto and it still makes me happy to think about them all co-running the magic box together and smooching a lot.)

Hardest Fic: OOF uh i went through a rocky period of writing when transitioning into college? no such roses and dear friend were hit the hardest by my insecurity & my desire to Finish Things rather than actually spend time on the craft. but i’m much more settled in now and my writing is DEFINITELY in an upward swing (as my newest fic -- as day follows night -- attests to quite nicely, imo)

Do You Plan to Take Prompts in 2020? always always yes! (i’m bad at following through with them, but am ALWAYS accepting them.)

What was the best thing about 2019? there were almost too many good things to COUNT, but i think all of them were made possible by me working extremely hard to get myself the FUCK out of my abusive parents’ house and into my first choice college!! i’m thriving, y’all.

What was the worst thing about 2019? realizing that both of my parents are fundamentally terrible people. that part kinda sucked.

Any last thoughts for 2019? i finally understand what it’s like to fall asleep feeling safe, and to notice the way the leaves change color, and to get excited about self-indulgent things like food and cuddly stuffed animals and my own fic and art. 2019 brought a lot of happiness into my life, and oh yeah also i’m in love! lots of cool stuff going on.

Goals for 2020

finish the latest braveryverse installment!

MORE ART JUST IN GENERAL. i love drawing, but there’s not a lot of free time for artsy celia when they prioritize writing so often!

write one of the many incredible longfic ideas that’s floating around in my head. it’s honestly probably only like two or three big ones, but at least DECIDE which one i’m gonna focus my energy on.

more giles/anya this year!

more giles/jenny/anya this year!

diversify! still gonna be writing about jenny forever, but like. it might be fun to write about a few new things here and there.

maybe some more ace attorney fic? maybe even some mfmm fic again? phryne and jack are never far from my heart.

not tagging anyone bc this is....january. but if you wanna do it, feel free!

[nervousgaylaughter]

how'd we end up on a road we never took (chapter 2)

read on ao3

this turning out to be a slowburn sorry gays but i had to do it

Kate grabs her phone and looks at the text she just received.

Unknown Number: Hey, this is Eva. My friend Patricia told me her plan.

Of course she has a name like Patricia, is all Kate thinks

Kate: yeah, it’s kinda crazy isn’t it

Eva: Kinda is being nice about it.

Eva: But it could work for both of us.

Kate: that’s true

Eva: Do you want to meet up tomorrow in person to talk about it? I feel a bit weird discussing all this over text.

Kate: sure, when and where

Eva: How about right after school at Boston’s Coffee Shop? I think our schools get out at the same time.

Kate: they do

Eva: Oh cool, how do you know?

Kate: my captain is obsessed with you

She realizes this sounds stalkerish to the stranger, and sends another text.

Kate: i meant to say your team my bad

Eva: Oh haha gotcha. See you tomorrow!

Kate: see ya

And she doesn’t know exactly how, but Kate falls asleep a lot more peacefully than she had anticipated with all the anxiety of today’s events.

For some reason, school started on a Wednesday and Riley decided it would be a good idea to have a preliminary practice on Thursday. Kate had complained asking why have practice when they haven’t even conducted tryouts yet, but Riley simply said ‘check your vibes Kate’ so the girl relented.

Today is Friday, the third day of school and the jamboree football game. It’s not a real game so the team isn’t expected to be prepared yet, they are required to go, but they’re allowed to sit in the stands and watch to get a feel for the crowd this year. Riley wants the team to eat lunch together so they can bond before the game, which is the last thing Kate wants to do.

The day goes by dreadfully long. She mopes through her first period math with Chess and Annleigh as Annleigh somehow answers every question. She hides under the bleachers during gym as she sees Cairo looking a little too hard at Riley in her gym uniform. Then she actually attempts to pay attention in English until lunch, when she goes to her usual spot and waits for Chess. The girl comes running up to Kate and grabs her arm.

“C’mon Kate.”

“Where are we going Chess?” Kate asks not at all amused with being taken from her spot.

“We’re eating lunch with the team today.” Chess doesn’t look Kate in the eyes.

“Why the fuck would we ever do that?”

“It’ll be good to do some team bonding,” Chess says, but Kate is unconvinced.

“You know you have nothing to prove to them right? I know you’re ok, you know you’re ok and that’s all that should matter.” Chess doesn’t answer as she just pulls Kate towards the table where the rest of the girls are waiting.

Kate wishes Chess wouldn’t care so much about what the team thinks of her. Chess made a few mistakes last year, but she’s clean now. Kate has spent many late nights on the phone with Chess, just talking about nothing, trying to make sure her best friend would fall asleep on the phone rather than by self-medication. But none of that is the team’s business. All they need to know is that Chess is better now.

“Welcome everyone, I’m glad you all showed up for our weekly Cheer Lunch,” Riley says as Kate and Chess sit down.

“Weekly?” Kate mouths to Chess to which Chess hits Kate on the leg.

“You look so pleased that your little girlfriend dragged you here Kate,” Cairo says, but Kate doesn’t fail to notice that Cairo places her hand mere centimeters away from Riley’s on the table.

“You know I’m actually taller than Kate-” Chess begins to say.

“Really that’s the part you’re focused on?” Kate asks her friend.

“Aww look at the lovers’ quarrel,” Cairo says sarcastically.

“Shut up Cai, and I’ll have you know that I actually do have a girlfriend. And no it’s not Chess.”

“Who is it?” Reese says as she approaches the table and sits down before anyone could tell her not to.

“She goes to West High. Her name is Eva Sanchez.”

“EVA SANCHEZ THE HIGHEST RANKED FLYER IN THE STATE?” Riley asks extremely excitedly as the rest of the girls flinch at the sudden exclamation. Cairo stares at the redhead as she shifts her jaw uncomfortably. Kate makes a mental note of Cairo’s obvious jealousy.

“The one and the same,” Chess responds for her as Kate’s mind begins to rush.

Oh my God I haven’t even spoken to Eva yet and I just committed us to this relationship.

Just as Riley is about to ask a million questions about Eva, Farrah asks, “So how was everyone’s summer?” Kate notices the girl isn’t drunk, which is good considering it’s the middle of the school day. The thought just makes Kate sad about the fact that she thought it in the first place. She’s not Farrah’s biggest fan after everything she has said to Chess, but she wishes the girl wasn’t already so messed up at fifteen.

Luckily Annleigh takes up most of lunch talking about church camp despite Farrah’s protests that she was asking everyone else but Annleigh since she had heard enough about it at home. Instead of listening to anecdotes about ‘Noah’s Art’ and ‘Capture the Bible’ (man these Christians really love their religious puns), Kate is entering a thought spiral about her situation.

Oh my god I’ve already crossed a line we haven’t even made yet, Kate thinks, and she’s completely panicking. Chess notices her friend in distress, and gives her a comforting squeeze on her knee. Luckily, the lunch bell rings and gives Kate her much needed escape to art class.

Thankfully, she has art with just Chess and none of the other girls, and the girls have a hushed conversation as the teacher is rambling on about shading.

“So you talked to Eva?” Chess asks.

“Uh… not yet.”

“So you just lied.”

“Technically it’s going to be lying whether Eva is on board or not.” Chess rolls her eyes as Kate continues, “But I’m meeting with Eva right after school before the game today.”

The teacher notices their conversation and says, “Girls. Do we have to do this every year?” Kate and Chess have had art together every year. Originally Chess took it her sophomore year to fulfill her art credit, but Kate convinced her to keep taking it with her, so Chess made the sacrifice of being in art class to be with her best friend.

“Sorry Miss,” Chess says. Chess was always far too kind about these things, but that’s why they had each other. Kate was there when a bit of anger was involved and Chess was there when politeness was needed. They balanced each other out.

The rest of the class Kate spends actually taking notes on various artistic styles until she goes to her next class. US History is a bore, especially considering she has both Annleigh and Clark in that class, so she practically fled from the classroom to get to Earth and Space Science. Kate didn’t necessarily enjoy science, but it was better than being with Christians R Us for an hour. She sat next to Farrah in this class, which neither girl was particularly happy about, but they sat in an agreed science, so Kate actually had some peace of mind.

Her last period was the most stressful. Not because of the class itself, AP Art History was bound to be incredibly hard, but she was so excited for it. Especially because the class takes a trip to France in the spring to see the art they study. She has this class with Reese who for once doesn’t try and engage Kate in conversation after she receives a very angry stare.

When the final bell rings, Kate realizes she has no way to get to the coffee shop. Shit I didn’t think this one through.

She shoots a text to Chess asking for a ride, and already starts making her way towards the girl’s car, but gets a very unexpected response.

chess ♟️: I have a meeting but Cairo says she can give you a ride.

Kate: Cairo???

But before Kate can get clarification she sees Cairo waiting in her car. Kate approaches the passenger window and knocks, startling Cairo who unlocks the door. Cairo is putting her mascara as Kate sits awkwardly in silence.

“I’m only giving your ass a ride because Boston’s is on my way to the movie theater,” Cairo says pulling out of the student parking lot.

“Gotcha. Thanks,” Kate says hoping it would be the end of the conversation. Unfortunately, about five minutes later Cairo begins to talk again.

“So Chess says you’re meeting Eva?”

“Yup.” Kate’s really trying to end this, but for some reason Cairo is unrelenting.

“I’m happy that you finally got over Chess and can move on-”

“I never had a crush on Chess, you do know that right?”

“Whatever you say,” Cairo says with a raise of her eyebrows. Kate has had enough of Cairo’s projection and decides she might as well confront the girl.

“Just cause I wasn’t in love with my best friend doesn’t mean anything about your situation though.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean Kate?” Cairo says with a quiver in her voice.

“I’m not oblivious Cairo.” They arrive at Boston’s but before Kate closes the door she says, “You’re clearly in love with Riley. Do us all a favor and tell her before it’s too late,” and she slams the door shut and makes her way into the coffee shop, not looking back at Cairo.

As Kate walks into Boston’s, she sees groups of teenagers studying or just hanging out, since Boston’s was halfway between Giles Corey High and West High it was considered neutral grounds for the rival schools. She looks around trying to find Eva when someone taps her shoulder.

“Uh hey are you Kate?”

“Yeah. You must be Eva.”

“The one and only. Wow Patricia's description of you was really accurate,” Eva says as they step in line together.

Kate is worried about what the girl said and asks, “What would that be?”

“Short. Dark hair. Choker. Slightly angry demeanor.” Why is my height a common theme today?

“That’s actually kind of fair,” Kate decides not to be a complete asshole to this girl she is supposed to pretend to be dating.

They get to the front of the line and order their drinks, a peach tea for Eva and a Pumpkin Spice Latte for Kate.

Kate brings out her credit card to pay for them as Eva says, “I can venmo you my half later-”

“Don’t worry about it,” Kate interrupts.

"Really-"

"It's fine, you'll soon discover I'm quite chivalrous actually," Kate says which isn't a total lie. When Kate really cares about someone, she would go to the ends of the Earth for them.

“I didn’t know they sell Pumpkin Spice Lattes in August,” Eva says as they sit down.

“Oh they don’t. I forced it on the menu,” Kate responds.

“What…”

“I said what I said. PSL season should be every season.”

“But how did you make them do it?” Eva asks concerned for the poor minimum wage baristas.

“That’s a story for another time I think,” Kate says not wanting Eva to judge her too harshly quite yet. Eva chuckles at the girl’s mysterious answer and says, “So this whole pretend relationship thing.”

“Yeah. Having a girlfriend would kinda fix a few things in my life, but I cant get a real one because everyone at Giles sucks.” Eva nods along.

“Same situation here. My ex Amy keeps trying to get me back and is threatening any girl in school who tries to approach me.”

“Oh wow should I be worried?”

“I don’t think so, you seem like you can hold your own.” Kate almost thinks the girl is flirting but puts those thoughts aside. Nope nope nope too much right now it's pretend just chill Kate.

“So I guess we’re on the same page?” Kate asks.

“Yeah. And we only really have to date until Homecoming. After that everyone should be off our backs.” Homecoming is in October, Kate thinks, I can do that it’s only two months.

“We should probably set up some ground rules though,” Eva offers.

“True. Where should we begin?”

“Well first off are you ok with holding hands in public?” Kate thinks the innocence and genuine nature of Eva’s question is adorable.

“Yeah that’s cool with me. I think it’s safe to say no kissing though. That’d be kinda awkward.” And it’s not like Kate is going to tell this to Eva, but she really doesn’t want her first kiss to be fake. Somewhere deep down, Kate is a cheesy romantic, but no one has unlocked that side of her yet.

“Yeah that’d be weird,” Eva laughs it off, “So we draw the PDA line at holding hands. What’s our backstory how did we meet?”

“Backstory?” Kate asks amused, “We’re not fictional characters.”

“You know what I mean. People are gonna ask how we got together.”

“Well what if we met while you were delivering pizza.”

“Really?” Eva asks.

“It’s the most plausible explanation. Don’t you wear that jacket when you’re working too?” Kate asks pointing to the familiar jean jacket.

“Yeah, and?”

“So what if I saw your rainbow button and asked you out?” Kate says as if she would have ever acted on her ideas about the cute delivery girl.

“That’s actually pretty smart. What was our first date? The movies?”

“That’s basic as fuck Eva.”

“Well what do you propose?”

“We go rollerskating,” Kate says matter of factually.

“I don’t know how to rollerskate though.”

“Even better. I teach you and we hold hands and it’s cute as shit,” Kate says, thinking about her long-time first date idea with a smile.

“Fair enough. We also should probably know some basic stuff about each other.”

So the girls lose track of time as they get to know each other.

They go over their favorite colors (Kate’s is green and Eva’s is yellow), their allergies (Eva’s is peanuts and Kate’s is cats), and they share anecdotes about their lives. Kate learns that Eva started cheerleading by accident when she walked into cheer auditions thinking it was volleyball tryouts and was too embarrassed to leave. Eva learns Kate broke her arm in three different places when she was six and thought she could fly so she jumped off her roof. The two talk about life as if they’ve known each other for years.

It’s 5:45 when Kate looks at her phone and realizes she has to be at school in 15 minutes and once again doesn’t have a ride. I really need to start either thinking these things through or get my license.

“Eva I am so sorry but I have to be at school for our jamboree game at 6:00.”

“Oh no worries I didn’t realize we’ve been here so long.” Kate doesn’t want to ask her new friend slash fake girlfriend for a ride so she figures inviting her to the game would be easiest.

“Would you want to come? We’re not cheering just watching,” Kate says standing up.

“Oh sure, I’m always down to see the Tigers lose,” Eva teases, nudging Kate’s shoulder.

"Rude," Kate responds even though she knows it's true.

They continue chatting as they get into Eva’s car when Kate realizes she never changed into her cheer shirt.

“I forgot I have to put this on I hope you don’t mind,” Kate says unbuckling her seatbelt.

“At least wait until we get to a stoplight!” Eva begs. Kate concedes and changes at the light while Eva is clutching the steering wheel looking straight ahead. Once Kate is done, she feels her cheeks flush as she says, “Sorry about that.”

“It’s all good,” Eva says still not looking Kate in the eyes. They continue with a somewhat more awkward than before conversation until they finally arrive at Giles Corey High. As they get closer and closer to the cheerleader’s designated spot on the bleachers, Eva grabs Kate’s hand.

“Gotta sell the act,” she says with a wink, making Kate flustered.

As they get approach their seats, all the girls take notice of Eva. Kate whispers to her, “Oh just a heads up my captain is your biggest fangirl.”

“Is that what you meant over text-” Eva begins to ask when Riley yells, “EVA SANCHEZ IT REALLY IS YOU!” Kate looks over to Riley who is sitting next to Cairo. Cairo and Kate make eye contact, but Cairo quickly looks away from Kate’s implicative gaze.

Kate sits down next to Chess who leans in towards her friend, “So you guys agreed to this mess?”

“Yeah but just until October. Then we’re gonna stage a breakup or whatever.”

“If you say so. Just be careful ok?”

“It’s gonna be fine Chess,” Kate says and that’s when Farrah and Annleigh show up.

“Hey squad!” Annleigh says excitedly. Farrah says nothing and plops down next to her step-sister. Kate notices Riley incessantly interrogating Eva and realizes it’s going to be a long, long night.

[gotatext]

PREFERRED NAME — nora. i think i started going by it in like, 2009?? my full name is eleanor but i hated it n thought it was way too pretentious n i never felt like it fitted me so when i started writing on forums i decided i’d be a nora rather than eleanor and then my school friends called me it and it just kinda stuck, the only person who calls me eleanor is my mum

PRONOUNS — she / her / ethereal being beyond comprehension

AGE — 23 but i tell everyone im 21 because even tho time is literally fake im desperately clinging to that fleeting thing we call youth trying to catch it like smoke in my hands

PINTEREST — i actually have two. this one is my main one where i just cram all my shit n i’ve had it for years and some of its super unorganised. then i also have this one which is one i made for exclusively female characters. it started as mythological figures but now its like, women in literature and the occasional oc as well. variety is the spice of life!

DISCORD — lindsay lohan’s meth#8664

TUMBLR (PERSONAL/MUSE/RPH) — i used to be froseths but now im pvrscphones cos ya gal is a fucking whore for mythology 

OTHER SOCIAL MEDIA YOU’D LIKE TO SHARE — oi oi guvna ere’s me twitta. also here’s my letterboxd n my goodreads if anyone still uses tht

MYER-BRIGGS — enfp / infp border .... the classic profile of a lit student

HP HOUSE — hufflepuff, am fuckin mad. 

ZODIAC — libra which is a joke because i am in no way balanced but i guess i AM indecisive and a peacekeeper so?

DO YOU BELIEVE IN ASTROLOGY? — i believe it when it says good shits gonna happen in my life and blame it if bad shit happens but i don’t strongly follow it i just find it interesting

HOW OLD WERE YOU WHEN YOU STARTED RPING ON TUMBLR — maybe like 14?? my first rp blog here is literally so embarassing i wrote as clove from the hunger games n my best friend irl wrote cato :/ it was wild

WHAT YEAR WAS IT? — like 9 years ago?? 2010 maybs

NAME A RANDOM ROLEPLAY THAT STICKS OUT IN YOUR MEMORY — me n my friend ellie made this really cool group the summer before we left for uni which was loosely based on a concept mentioned mayb once in the divergent series, but it gave us loads of freedom to make it our own thing. it was called the fringe n it was like..... this dystopian society where people with different genes were cut off from the rest of society n lived in overrun slum cities where different groups had like, a monopoly over weapons, produce, etc.... my character jack was the leader of this lost-boy-esque tribe called the wolf pack who were hunters n used to run across the rooftops wearing the skins of animals they’d killed and engage in tribal rituals with sacrifices to the gods n shit. sounds lame but everyone there was so invested in their character arcs that it was a shame to see it go. but ! it kind of reached its end point so we blew it up w nukes n they all died. tragic.

WHAT WEIRD ANIMAL WOULD YOU HAVE AS A PET IF IT WAS REALISTIC — a fox?? do ppl keep foxes? idk i’ve always just felt a sense of connection w them like when a fox stares at me im like this shit is life i am living and breathing in this bitch.... visceral

NAME THE FIRST SONG ON YOUR DISCOVER WEEKLY ON SPOTIFY OR THE FIRST SONG THAT COMES ON APPLE MUSIC / ITUNES SHUFFLE — everbody party tonight by cobra man n summer girl by haim..... not my usual stuff but big summer chillin vibes,.....

NAME A BOOK THAT YOU READ IN SCHOOL THAT YOU SURPRISINGLY LIKED — lord of the flies and also the handmaid’s tale. one of assignments was to write a chapter from another character’s perspective n i chose moira

NAME A BOOK YOU HATED THAT MOST PEOPLE LIKED — skellig. fuck off with ur asprin ugly bat man i don’t care. also of mice and men. don’t care about the rabbits or curley’s goddamn wife.

WHAT TV SHOW DID YOU RECENTLY BINGE? — im not a big binger bc i find it jst makes me depressed if i watch tv all day but im nearly finished stranger things season 3 n i recently finished euphoria (big rec but proceed w caution as quite triggering content)

FAVOURITE QUOTE — cool girl speech from gone girl. but also “there’s something dangerous about the boredom of teenage girls” i know its like.... such an overused quote but it really encapsulates this kind of feral girlhood that a few of my characters like bridget n greta have tapped into. i also loved the line “i feel like i could eat the world raw” from song of achilles, that really captures this kind of.... pure n childlike enthusiasm tht i wanna achieve w rory 

LINK TO A VINE THAT EXUDES YOUR ‘ENERGY’ — this is my energy completely am always covered in glitter n staring broodily out of the windows of ubers at 4am like im in the sad bit of an indie film 

DO YOU WRITE OUTSIDE OF RP? WHAT DO YOU WRITE? — uhh.... not as much as i shd.... i want to be a writer so i shd be makin some effort to get my stuff Out Into The World but im just not.... lol. ive done a lot of poetry collections . i wnt to finish a novel @ some point too.

THREE YOUTUBERS YOU STILL TRUST — bold of you to assume i trust any youtubers

A CELEBRITY CRUSH THAT JUST WON’T QUIT — id literally die for saoirse ronan n timothee chalamet :/ chance perdomo also owns my ass. 

EVER MEET A CELEBRITY? SHARE YOUR STORY — i once high-fived dani harmer, the actress who played tracy beaker. today my sister text me tryin to make me guess what celebrity she just saw on holiday in wales and for ages she let me think it was timmothee but it was actually bradley walsh from the chase :/

WHAT’S YOUR PICTURE-PERFECT NIGHT? — i am in a bomb ass crop top and mini skirt, several scrunchies in my hair, glitter all over my face, wearing cowboy boots. we eat dinner in a trendy but affordable pub that doubles up as a cocktail bar n then we drink zombies or sex on the beaches n go to a rave where everyone is on the same wavelength n i share drugs with girls in the toilets and we swap numbers knowing we will never text each other but its ok bc in that moment we feel like we are soulmates and everyone is super drunk n touching everyone else n its all very visceral and we walk through the woods when the rave ends and lie in the grass because we wish to suck out all the marrow of life 

A CONSPIRACY THEORY YOU KINDA BELIEVE IN — princess diana was murdered 

ARE ALIENS REAL? — maybe the real aliens are the friends we made along the way

PLAY ANY PHONE GAMES? WHICH ONES? — love island game im addicted and way too invested in my fictional relationship with bobby, a cartoon

WHAT’S A FILM YOU LOVED WHEN YOU WERE YOUNG AND RECENTLY WATCHED, ONLY TO FIND OUT YOU DON’T ANYMORE — bold of u to assume i remember my childhood. but if we’re talking last 10 years angust, thongs n perfect snogging is so so cringe 

DO YOU COLLECT ANYTHING? — pairs of glasses belonging to other ppl when they break / get new ones even though i can see perfectly well. 

WHAT’S SOMETHING YOU WANT TO LEARN MORE ABOUT BUT YOU’RE TOO LAZY? — mythology...... always a craving and a wish i’d read like ancient texts but my school wasn’t good enough to do greek or latin or any of that shit n even tho i could read english translations i cant be bothered. also criminal psychology

THREE LANGUAGES YOU DON’T SPEAK, BUT WISH YOU COULD — italian, french and latin

MOVIE YOU’VE WATCHED MORE THAN 5 TIMES — ladybird, about time, angus thongs, shrek 2, what we do in the shadows, the history boys, atonement, coraline, the breakfast club, ferris bueller’s day off

NAME A FICTIONAL CHARACTER FROM TV/FILM/MOVIE/GAME/BOOK THAT YOU FIND YOURSELF PROJECTING ON / YOU RELATE TO — cecilia lisbon. rue in euphoria. alison brie in glow. adam parrish in the raven cycle. richard papen. olivia cooke’s character in thoroughbreds. allen ginsberg in kill your darlings. lily in sex education. holliday grainger’s character in the film animals --- i too am an aspiring writer who never writes and just gets drunk instead .

DO YOU FOLLOW ANY SPORTS? WHO DO YOU ROOT FOR? — no. cba

HOBBIES BESIDES WASTING AWAY HERE? — i go to the movies basically every day bcos i work in a cinema. im also a voracious reader n i occasionally do theatre or costume making

PLUG A TV SHOW / MOVIE / BOOK / VIDEO GAME / ETC… YOU WISH MORE PEOPLE WOULD CHECK OUT — where the wild things are (film by spike jonze).  animals. beats. the book fen by daisy johnson and a girl is a half formed thing by eimar mcbride. andy warhol’s biography from a to b and back again

WHOSE BRAIN WOULD YOU LIKE TO PICK, ALIVE OR DEAD? — phoebe waller-bridge on how i get her life. carey mulligan on how she got to be such a good actress n how i can become her. maybs wes anderson. maybs gillian flynn. i tend to listen to podcasts w the ppl i really wanna pick the brains of.

TEAM EDWARD OR JACOB? — edward :/

LAST MOVIE SEEN IN THEATRE — blinded by the light n i lovd it

DO YOU STILL READ? — when i finished uni i kinda got out of the habit but this week i finished two books so ive set myself the challenge of a book a week.

IF SO, WHAT ARE YOU CURRENTLY READING? — i finished song of achilles yesterday n i also finished call me by your name yesterday. started circe by madeline miller today, im also partway through milkman by anna burns and the plays of annie barker

ON A SCALE OF 1-10, HOW MUCH DID YOU HATE FILLING THIS OUT? – 3 i didnt hate it bcos at heart i am self-indulgent and love fashioning some sense of self when i feel lost in a world that is scary and constantly changing 

[muertawrites]

Immunity (or Make It Work, Part 2) [Loki x Reader] {nsfw}

Summary: Reader reveals the dress she made for the gala, causing Loki to lose all his shit at once. When Loki spies his half brother taking a liking to her during the midst of the party, he gets hella possessive and makes a point of showing her how much he cares (... with a rough quickie in a hallway. You know, romantic stuff).

Word Count: 3,300

Author’s Note: I thought I was done with the first draft of this until I read it over and absolutely hated it, so I rewrote the middle part and now it’s better and my sleep schedule is totally fucked. As if it wasn’t already fucked before, tho. Also, this installment of Make It Work is lowkey (Loki, lol) inspired by @maiden-of-asgard‘s Frostbite series, which is super great and I’m addicted to it and you should 100% go check it out if you love yourself or even if you don’t love yourself, it can be your first step in learning to love yourself. I’m starting to get delirious with lack of sleep, so I’m gonna post this and hope that I can be a functional adult tomorrow. Goodnight, ya horny bastards, I love you.

                                              ~ Muerta 🌸💀🌸

(Part 1)

You had always believed that the key to sex appeal was subtlety. This was apparent in everything you designed, each garment focusing on the suggestion of a person’s body without ever showing too much of it. A bit of mesh or lace, a slight peeking of skin, a cinch in the waist that revealed what sins lie just beneath the fabric; these were all your weapons in making a piece of clothing maddeningly sexy, and you had applied all of them to the dress you’d made at Loki’s request for the gala he was hosting.

You stood in the hall just outside the reception room of the Asgardian royal palace, smoothing out the fabric of your gown and swallowing the lump that had formed in your throat over the last few minutes as you anticipated the arrival of your escort. Hours ago, a hoard of beauticians had been sent to your apartment within the palace, styling your hair and makeup to suit the dress you’d crafted for the evening. Your hair had been pulled back into a tight, plaited bun that fanned out at the base of your head, with a few loose tendrils falling elegantly over your cheeks. Your lips had been painted in a dark berry shade, and you were adorned with large golden earrings and a matching collier and headdress, chosen from a selection that Loki had sent for you. You were stunning, the picture of an Asgardian goddess, and you had grinned smugly at your reflection as you’d inspected your final look. You had transformed your mortal self into a creature that could put the otherworldly beings of the realm you now called your home to shame, and were endlessly proud of what you had done. You only hoped that Loki would be just as impressed.

The god’s footsteps coming down the hall startled you, pulling you abruptly from your thoughts as you turned to face the direction he was coming from, your heart slamming against your ribs. He turned the corner to where you were standing, and when you came into view, he stopped dead in his tracks. His frozen blue eyes drank you in, scanning your body up and down so that no inch of you was left unseen. He had given you a challenge, and you’d obliterated his expectations; the gown you had designed was absolutely breathtaking, made of a silk so deeply evergreen that it was almost black, shifting and changing hues with the light. The neckline was cut into a severe plunge, stopping just below the space where your breasts met, leaving him thirsting to see more of your skin. Mesh panels mirrored each other on either side of the dress’s bodice, extending down into the skirt until they where lost within its cascade of lush fabric, and a belt cast in gold hugged your waist to accentuate the voluptuous curves of your body. The gown’s sleeves were long, laden with more panels of mesh and accented with lace decorated in Nordic patterns, matching those etched into Loki’s helmet. You were exposed to him, but only just, and the promises of what was hidden beneath your latest work had his mind racing. He swallowed, clearing his throat and bowing politely to you.

“I see you took our conversation to heart,” he said as greeted you with a devilish smirk. You grinned back, offering a shallow curtsey in return.

“I was hoping I’d stun you enough to shut you up for once,” you replied.

Loki held his arm out to you, allowing you curl your fingers around the crook of his elbow as he led you to the doors of the reception room.

“Almost, darling,” he hummed. “Almost.”

As the twin doors swung open towards you, you were greeted with the sight of an entire room populated by the lofty, vexing creatures known as the Jotun. You had never seen them in person, but you knew from the history books in the palace’s library that they had a rocky past with the people of Asgard, characterized by war and bloodshed, and Loki was attempting to pose a sort of treaty between the two realms by hosting their royal family. They were enormous, some of them spanning over ten feet tall, and entirely blue in color, their skin patterned with grooves that supposedly meant different things and were unique to each creature. Not a single one of them was clothed in full, each of them sporting various levels of exposure to supposedly assert dominance and status (as you had read), and you noticed as Loki led you further into the room that many of them had their teeth filed into vicious, shark-like points. You looked up at the king standing beside you, shuddering at the fact that his lean, rangy stature was dwarfed by theirs, finding it hard to remind yourself that he was, under his alabaster skin, one of them. You pulled him a bit closer to you, thinking of how tiny your human form must have looked to the giants. Didn’t you read somewhere that they used to keep Midgardians as pets?

“My kin,” Loki addressed the room as he came to stand in the center of it, your shivering self still huddled beside him, “I welcome you to my adoptive home. Being of Jotun blood, raised by the hands of Asgard, I hope to bridge the gap between our two peoples and move our realms toward a peaceful future. Enjoy your time here. Indulge in our culture and our warm hospitality. We are happy to have you.”

He bowed to the crowd before him, and as the band in the mezzanines circling the reception room began to play, he spun you about and led you away from the fray, raising your hand to his lips in a gentle kiss.

“I thought you were fearless,” he murmured into your skin, teasing you. “I can feel you shaking like a leaf.”

“These people are the size of small buildings,” you quipped back at him, giving the hand holding yours a light squeeze and digging your nails into the back of his palm. “I also don’t think I need to remind you that they used to keep humans as playthings in their recent past.”

Loki smirked.

“Reading up on your history?” he mused. “What a good little thing you are.”

For a significant portion of the evening, Loki paraded you around to his guests, showing you off as if you were a prized trophy. His Jotun visitors poked and prodded at you, intrigued by your soft mortal body, the women toying with your hair, petting it and admiring its silkiness, while the men inspected your figure, some of them getting a bit handsy and groping at your breasts and backside with fervent interest. Their touches made you wildly uncomfortable, wanting nothing more than to slap their hands away and inform them that you were, in fact, a sentient being and not just the dumb little pet they perceived you to be, but their intimidating stature and the shaky relationship they had with your employer made you wary, reminding you that they could literally dismember you if they had a reason to – or even if they didn’t have a reason to. Loki stayed at your side throughout the ordeal, however, skirting you away when his guests got too intimate for you to tolerate.

After two hours of being handled by what could easily have been every single frost giant in Jotunheim, you were able to steal away to the large banquet table that had been set up on one side of the reception room, pouring yourself a strong glass of Asgardian mead and stuffing a few hors d’oeuvres into your mouth, trying to regain some of your calm. You had just scarfed your fifth mini quiche when your indulgent stress eating was interrupted by a soft voice addressing you from behind.

“Miss?”

You turned, coming face to face with yet another giant, but noticing that this one was considerably younger than the others, probably only a teenager in Jotun years. He was also more sparsely dressed than the rest of them, leading you to believe that he was a member of the royal family. He gave you a slight bow, his eyes wide and nervous, not leaving yours.

“I am Prince Býleistr,” he introduced himself, straightening his back once again. “King Laufeyson’s half-brother.”

You had heard of Býleistr fleetingly before, knowing him only as the child of Loki’s biological father, Laufey, and the current Queen of Jotunheim. You brushed a few crumbs from your fingers and onto the skirt of your gown, attempting to maintain what little dignity you had left as you dipped into a curtsey.

“It is an honor to meet you, Your Highness” you addressed him.

Býleistr looked you up and down, his eyes gaping as he took in the sight of you.

“King Laufeyson says you are mortal,” the young prince said, sounding almost breathless. “Is that true?”

You nodded, unconsciously taking a step back from him as you prepared yourself for more unwanted contact.

“Yes,” you replied. “I’m from Midgard.”

Býleistr’s eyes widened in wonder at the confirmation, and you couldn’t help but feel slightly endeared by him. He was just a kid, after all, and it was very likely he’d never seen a mortal in person.

“May I…” the prince lingered on his words a bit, as if unsure they were the right ones. He swallowed, then held his hand out to you.

“May I touch you?” he asked.

Shocked by his considerate act of asking for your consent, you silently gave him permission, raising a bewildered hand for him to take. He grinned excitedly, clasping his massive fingers around your much smaller ones and raising your arm above your head, being cautious in his movements as if afraid he would break you. You smiled faintly back as you allowed him to twirl you, spinning so he could take in your foreign appearance.

From across the room, Loki’s eyes fell upon the scene that was unfolding. He watched, indignant, as his sniveling little weasel of a relative spun you about, laying his grubby fingers on your cheeks, your hair, your waist, your back, and Loki felt the searing sting of envy rising in his chest as you allowed it. You actually allowed him to touch you without any of the hesitation you’d had with the other frost giants. Loki slammed down the rest of his drink and glided furiously over to the two of you, fueled by rage and the alcohol in his blood.

Býleistr was holding your hand, marveling at the minute size of your fingers when Loki interrupted the two of you, clearing his throat and causing you both to jump, startled.

“Dear younger brother,” Loki crooned, his lips spread into a malicious grin and words dripping with acrimony, “as much as it pleases me to see you making such diverse connections of friendship, I am afraid I have come to retrieve my favorite toy.”

Loki took you by the arm, not waiting for Býleistr’s response as he wrapped his arm around you protectively, skillfully maneuvering you through the reception room and slipping with you through a hidden side door, into one of the palace’s many empty corridors. You wheeled on him as soon as you were alone, smacking him hard in the chest with the side of your closed fist.

“What. The. Fuck. Loki!” you snapped, hitting him with each word and glaring up at him. He glowered down at you, his mouth turned downward into a furious grimace.

“How could you?” he growled, taking you by the wrists to stop you from beating him.

“How could I?” you exclaimed, incredulous. “How could you, you piece of shit! Why the hell would you let them molest me like that?!”

Loki smirked, his eyes lazily drifting down to where your chest met his as he held you against him, then back up to meet yours.

“I wanted to see your scared little face, my dear,” he chided. “I am the god of jokes and trickery, after all.”

“You’re the god of some kind of fucking bullshit,” you spat at him.

A guttural hiss escaped Loki’s throat as he pushed you forward, pinning you to the wall on the other side of the corridor. His hands splayed out on either side of your head, and he kept you in place by pressing his body against yours, his hips pinning you harshly to the surface behind you. If your senses didn’t fool you, you were certain you could feel him harden beneath the leather material of his pants.

“I tire of your games, my sweet little pet,” he growled mockingly, his lips pressed to your ear. “You have always been such a tease to me, even when you haven’t meant it.”

You simpered, tilting your head back so that you could stare up into his eyes, your hands pressed firmly to his chest.

“I thought you had an immunity to my mortal charms,” you taunted him, mocking him right back.

Loki shook his head slowly, one of the hands beside your head moving to capture your chin between his fingers as he fervidly licked his lips.

“My darling, you are the one thing that makes me weak…” he purred as he leaned in, taking your lips in a heated, passionate kiss that left your body burning and your lungs gasping for air. You immediately kissed back, your mouth opening and tongue clashing with his as your hands moved upward to clasp the sides of his face, fingers tangling in the abyss of his black hair. You could feel him in full now, his erect cock pressing up against your heat through the fabric of your dress, straining against the crotch of his trousers. He was going to fuck you, right then, right there against that wall, and you barely had time to worry about one of his guests stumbling in and interrupting you, as he was already lifting your skirt above your knees, desperate to be inside you.

Your lips didn’t leave his as you reached one of your hands down to palm at his member through the leather dividing you, the corners of your mouth curling into a smug grin at the needy whimper that escaped from his throat at your touch. You could feel the wetness that had been pooling between your legs start to drip down the insides of your thighs, thankful for once for Asgardians’ aversion to undergarments, as it would make the task at hand much easier and much, much more savory. You continued to work Loki as his hands kept traveling up your legs until every bit of skin below your waist was exposed to him, two of his fingers moving to stroke tentatively at the lips of your pussy, letting out a deep growl when he found you soaked and ready for him. He broke the kiss then, moving his lips to knead at your neck, leaving red marks where he sank his teeth hungrily into your flesh.

“Oh, how long I’ve wanted you, my sweet girl…” he purred against your skin, the fingers that had been stroking you gently slipping inside you, working you tenderly as he marked you as his own with is mouth. You let out a soft moan into his ear, the hand that had been resting on his cheek falling to grip lightly at his shoulders.

“Loki…” you murmured wantonly, your lips pressed into the shell of his ear.

As if halted by some greater power, Loki stopped everything he was doing and fell perfectly still. He pulled away from you, just enough to glare down at you, frozen in place as every muscle in his body stiffened. You gazed up at him, wondering if you’d done something wrong, when you noticed the blood red hue that suddenly flooded his eyes, his blanched skin taking on a deep cerulean tone as he gazed at you like he was going to rip you limb from limb. You swallowed, fearing what would come next as Loki let out a guttural snarl and reached down to where you had been stroking him, shredding the material of his pants so that his cock sprang free from them, promptly wrapping one of your legs around his hip and thrusting inside you without ceremony, groaning at the sublime feeling of your silken walls closing around him.

You yelped as he stretched you to your limits, never having had such a considerable width inside you and savoring the feeling of nearly being split in two. It was painful – so, so painful – but in the most delicious way, and you bit down into the meat of Loki’s slender, glacial hand as he pressed it to your lips to silence you.

Loki wasted no time being delicate with you, immediately slamming his hips into yours as he worked himself in and out of you at a beastly, rapid pace, his monstrous groans filling your ears like heavenly music. You were totally and utterly consumed by him, gazing up lustfully into his crimson eyes as his clawlike nails buried themselves in the plush flesh of your thigh so harshly they drew blood. His stare met yours, cutting into you as he took you without mercy or remorse, pounding into you so deeply you could almost feel him in your chest. You peaked within moments, the current of divine electricity swallowing the whole of your being under a veil of carnal bliss. Loki followed soon after, his cum filling you until it began to spill out, his own cry of absolute pleasure echoing through the hall. He leaned over you for a long moment, keeping you propped against the wall as his forehead rested in the crook of your neck, his chest heaving against yours as he panted with the exertion of having given you the quickest, yet most mind-blowing orgasm you’d ever experienced. You were dazed in the aftermath of his sex, uncertain you were still on the same astral plane as you had been just minutes before.

Once Loki had collected himself, the shade of his skin and eyes returning to their Asgardian palette, he slid out of you, clearing his throat as his hands followed the folds of your skirt as it cascaded down your legs once more, his nimble fingers smoothing out the fabric to hide the remnants of the delicious sin you’d just shared. You dragged yourself back to reality, reaching up with trembling hands to adjust the lapels of his coat, fixing his extravagant horned helmet where your touch had set it askew.

You sighed in defeat as your eyes fell on the tattered fabric of his trousers, tugging and clasping his coat closed to hide the damage.

“I spend a month killing myself to make clothes for you and look what you do to them,” you huffed.

Loki chuckled, the sound rumbling in his chest as he leaned forward and kissed your forehead.

“I suggest making the seams more durable next time,” he teased.

“Fuck you,” you mumbled, your words swallowed by his lips as you pulled him into a heated, affectionate kiss. Loki hummed, smirking as you parted.

“Later, my love,” he promised you, taking you by the arm and leading you back into the reception room, lips pressing to your knuckles as he did. “We still have a party to host.”

[virginiacreepervine]

A body washed up on Bell Isle this morning. Average height, average build. White guy with pierced ears, a few tattoos, shoulder length hair. Wouldn’t stand out in a Richmond crowd. Calloused hands and the slight beer gut suggest a blue collar job...in fact, he was a plumber. He was my brother. In a sense. People always looked at us funny when I told them; there’s no resemblance whatsoever, and we’re clearly pretty close in age. When you’ve been close with someone for twenty years, I figure you’re either family, or lovers, and our parents being married would’ve made the latter more than a little awkward. People hate it when I make that joke, makes ‘em real uncomfortable, but hey, that just makes it funnier for me.  The cops are ruling it a suicide on account of him being full of liquor, with no other wounds to speak of, and my idiot mother admitted he had a history of self harm. Now I know the guy had some troubles earlier in life, but getting drunk, driving to a bridge and throwing himself off? Not his style. Dude was impatient, and I’ve had to take guns from him before. Drowning is too slow, especially in that part of the river this time of year. Dude could have stood up and stumbled to drunken safety, right next to the moonshine distillery. Shouldn’t he have broken something in a fall like that? People tell me denial is just part of the grieving process, but I know bullshit when I smell it. My grandpa has a farm.  Steph is just beside herself. Literally. Ever since that accident with truck filled with ooze of dubious origin she’s had a double inches from her at all times. It doesn’t speak and it isn’t fully corporeal, but its there, standing, mimicking Steph’s expressions and movements. She’s real easy to see driving down the street too, but people learned to deal with it. Anyway, she’s (they’re?) in my bar, saying she believes me. I tell her what everyone tells me, its the grief, but she says that he hadn’t drank anything that night. More importantly, he fell asleep on top of her and she would’ve noticed if he moved. That’s not what I’ve heard, but I didn’t say that out loud. What kind of guy would tell a grieving widow her deceased husband was hung like a field mouse? Don’t answer that, I know. He was my brother though, so I couldn’t bring myself to shit on him, lest his angry ghost fuck up my bar. “So,” I muttered, “what do you want me to do about it? The fuzz had their say, case closed. This ain’t a mystery I can solve. What do I look like, Scooby Doo? Don’t answer that.”  “No, asshole, you don’t look like a fucking cartoon dog. But I know when weird shit happens, you’re the guy to talk to.” She starts crying something fierce before continuing. “That’s what Mike always said at least” “Alright, fuck you. First of all, Scoobert Doobert is a legend, beloved by all, and I will not have you reducing his existence to ‘cartoon dog’ in my establishment. Second, how DARE you come at me while I grieve, trying to use my dead brother’s name to guilt trip me into something.” We stared at each other a long while. She’s crying, I’m crying, it’s a mess. I don’t know if it was the grief or the extreme need to get this crying woman (women?) out of my bar before the usual drunks start wandering in, but I caved. “Fine. Fuck it, fine. Let me make sure I have the facts straight; Y’all do the deed, he passes out on top of you. Next, he gets up and has a little drink, drives down Belvedere and parks by the memorial center, and jumps off a bridge.” “Yeah, but we know that last part didn’t happen, I would’ve noticed him move.” “Okay, fine, but that just makes it sound like you did it. How long until you woke up and noticed he wasn’t there?” She doesn’t look happy at that one. I’m a real charmer, I know. She goes on. “Around 11 A.M., when I got the call about...” she drifts off, starts crying again. Either a great actress killed my brother, or she’s trying really hard to keep it together. Her double hovers by, a mourning mirror making me feel even worse about not trying harder sooner. I interrupt, eager to get this over with. “And what time did you fall asleep?” A solid minute later, she wipes away the snot and tears. How come its always snot? Really makes a person feel worse about themselves when a booger is sliding down their face with the tears. “Oh, about ten p.m.” “You laid there for thirteen hours and still think you would’ve noticed? I’ll level with you, this whole thing seems fishier by the minute. You’re wrong, or lying, but I’m gonna be a fool and believe you for his sake. Go home and get some rest, I’m gonna head out and ask a few questions.” She thanks me and heads out, leaving a trail of tears and snot in her wake. I call my staff, tell them not to come in tonight. After the final “Fuck you, I need my hours!”, I head into the storage closet where I keep my “Closed on account of Some Bullshit” sign, grab it and walk towards the door to hang it up. Only I don’t. There’s someone behind the bar, and they’re naked. “Not again,” I think, before  getting a closer look at the creep. There he is, tiny pecker and all. My brother.

“Man if you’re gonna haunt me could you at least haunt me with some clothes on? I don’t need ghost pubes around the joint if a health inspector shows up. Don’t you dead assholes usually have, like, some rags or a sheet or something?” Much to my annoyance, he responds. “Nah, the sheets look too much like the KKK getup. Makes people uncomfortable.” A startling realization. Old timey ghosts are super racist. Also, he’s very clearly alive. Ghosts ain’t got much of a sense of humor. “You asshole, you’re fucking alive?! Tell ya what, after I whip your naked ass, you’re gonna call everyone and apologize. This is ridiculous.” The supposedly dead streaker backs into the shelf behind the bar, hands up. In a shaky, scared voice he says “N-no, you can’t. No one can know I’m alive! I got people after me, Conner, I had to fake my death.” I pinch the bridge of my nose so hard that I’m sure I’ve left a bruise. “Fuckin’ okay, what the hell was the body they found?” “I had that hoodoo woman that was always screaming at people on Broad Street hook me up with a little something. You don’t know what its made of, but the people at the morgue are gonna be in for a surprise tomorrow.” I don’t ask any questions about that part, everyone knows that old bat had some weird shit going on. “Sure, but whoever is after you is gonna find out too. Now to the important question, why in the fuck are you naked in my bar?” “I put my clothes on the thing so it’d look authentic, then I creeped in here through that back window you always forget to lock.” “So,” I start, pinching the bridge of my nose again. “You managed to creep two and a half miles in the dead of night, through downtown Richmond? And no one saw you?”  “Oh some people saw me. I’m just too fast, the cops could never catch me.” As he explains, I hang the sign up. Can’t have some poor customer catch me arguing with a naked ghost, would really hurt the business. Then, I lay into him for a good twenty minutes about what a moron he is, as this plan is garbage from start to finish, almost like some hack writer couldn’t think of anything better. I also hand him some clothes I keep in storage in a bin labeled “lost and found”, as if anyone ever comes looking for the stuff. You’d be amazed at the shit people leave lying around here and never come looking for. Clothes, wallets, a weird book with a lock on it that I haven’t had the balls to crack open yet. Sometimes guns, sometimes pictures of people I’ve never seen. All doomed to life in a closet. He tells me the people after him are part of the same gang I ran with as a teenager, the Pale Horse Motorcycle Club. That makes things less complicated. I’d talk to John, the boss of the gang, and get it all sorted out. That asshole owes me a few times over anyway. I let the dead prick use a few padded bras from the lost and found (seriously, who in the fuck leaves those on the ground and how didn’t I notice?) for a pillow and let him rest. My apartment is only a few blocks down the street, so I walk on home. I open the door and notice something feels off. The place is smoky, which isn’t super out of the ordinary, but the smell is way worse than normal. I take a deep breath and place the heavy, cloying scent as cigar smoke. “Look,” I say to the black abyss that is my home this time of night, “if you’re that guy from the other night, I’m sorry I didn’t call you back. You just seemed like you’re into freakier shit than I can deal with.” The person in my armchair strikes a match. I catch a few features; Bushy black beard, oily tan skin, glasses. “Hey John, thought you’d be stopping by. Didn’t have to-” “I did have to. You know we’re all about imagery. Now sit down, lets talk.” Instead of humoring him, I pull a knife on him. This isn’t some Hollywood picture, can’t take any chances. Mistake on my end though, as the last thing I remember of that night is getting hit in the head, hard, and feeling my carpet rush up to meet me.

[beadonovans]

talk about dumbass bitch energy...now posting from the correct blog, its ya girl LARA with nobody’s favorite trash baby BEA. she’s a lot. so i’ll keep this short and just say she’s the worst and leave it at that.

( BENEDETTA GARGARI, CISFEMALE, SHE/HER ) i hear that BEATRICE DONOVAN has a link to CRASHING CORNERS. rumor has it, the TWENTY-ONE year old is RYAN DONOVAN’S SISTER. her life is sure to change now that the band’s fame is rising. she is said to be FUN-LOVING but also UNAMBITIOUS. i wonder how they’ll handle it ?

— ☁ HISTORY

you are the SECOND child, which is to say the baby. which is to say, a reason to stay TOGETHER. you had a mission, a quest assigned to you without your consent from the moment you were born. you were set up for failure, so FAILURE shadows you for the rest of your life.

you’re a normal kid with BEAUTIFUL green eyes ( which no one forgets to point out ). nothing else about you stands out. there’s no other reason for anyone to look your way.

your BROTHER is a bright boy and a fast talker who’s words bounce off the walls of his mouth and out of his lips in an melody you can’t quite understand, but enjoy listening to.

perhaps because of this, it’s your brother gets all the ATTENTION. good or bad, it’s his. you’re just a girl who lives in the shadows and blindspots. you don’t mind too much.

you’re EIGHT when your failure is confirmed. your parents SEPARATE. you leave your childhood home with your brother and mother. having failed your mission, you realize not WORTH much more. you’re always on the sidelines, so you make the best of it.

you have the ability to slip in and out of focus; no one is EVER watching you too closely. you always find ways to entertain YOURSELF. you learn that you can do WHATEVER you want.

you’re an AVERAGE kid at school. always come in the middle of the pack. you never excel, but your shortcomings are never a cause for concern. not even your failure is spectacular.

as a TEENAGER, you learn how to touch people, and let them TOUCH you. you learn that boys will LOOK with their fingertips on your skin and your green eyes SHINE once more. teenage boys can marvel at you. you mistake EYES for hands, windows, mirrors.

the boys at school all know your NAME. you’re almost proud of that.

you finish high school EMPTY handed. even your friends are TEMPORARY. you don’t even take a stab at UNIVERSITY, and it doesn’t matter. no one expected you to.

as you GROW, men continue to curl themselves into a question mark around you. you BELIEVE yourself the answer.

your BROTHER leaves your hometown. leaves the country. you look at him with STARS in your eyes, and think he’s just fucking COOL.

you work odd jobs here and there. you live with your MOM who still doesn’t think much of you. you find a few MEN who think you’re just oh so PRETTY. they give you cash to buy yourself something NICE.

LOS ANGELES calls to you with the banging of drums and electric guitars, you follow your brother, because his friends are cool. you VISIT as much as you can, familiarizing yourself with the city of ANGELS. you have FUN with his friends, his band and everyone that surrounds him.

LA equals fun, and parties, and music, and everything you’ve always reached for. so you move. you pack up everything. you land in LA. you’re here to stay.

— ☁ PERSONALITY

❝ i destroy myself repeatedly then wonder why i’m the way i am. ❞

ZODIAC SIGN: scorpio ( october 29th ) PERSONALITY TYPE: esfp – the entertainer ENNEAGRAM: type 7 – the epicure TEMPERAMENT: choleric HOGWARTS HOUSE: slytherin MORAL ALIGNMENT: chaotic neutral PRIMARY VICE: sloth PRIMARY VIRTUE: n/a ELEMENT: earth MORE STATS HERE !!

ok so let me tell you about my trash daughter beatrice. let’s start with this:

that single text tells you pretty much everything about bea.

i’m not gonna beat around the bush, finding positive traits for bea was a struggle. other than being generally fun to be around, kinda funny sometimes, and kinda resourceful, she doesn’t have a lot going for her.

she’s loud, obnoxious, not very smart, capable of fucking her way in and out of any mess. she’s lazy, unmotivated, unambitious, irresponsible, reckless, tactless, selfish, and i could definitely keep going. she’s an unapologetic disaster who’s coming to la to steal her brother’s cool friends, flash a few bands and score free tickets and backstage passes.

she’s a trainwreck. she’s trashy. she’s messy. if the song tik tok were a person, it would be beatrice donovan.

she functions on survival mode 24/7, she only does what she’s required to do to survive. not really a passionate person. she’d save herself above anyone else ( except ryan ). she doesn’t like relying on other people, except she kinda does because she has sugar daddies in la and in england who pretty much paid for her move to los angeles. still. she did get those sugar daddies on her own. i guess.

she doesn’t care about anyone but herself and ryan. and she doesn’t even care that much about herself. she’ll put herself in dangerous situations all the time, because she lives for that sort of thrill.

she’s extremely apathetic, just kind of coasting through life. just here to have a good time. at least that’s what’s written about her in the bathroom stalls at the satellite.

she smokes like a chimney and drinks pbr like it’s water.

currently crashing on ryan’s couch, but she’s ready to start looking for a job, and her own place.

— ☁ EXTRAS

THEME SONGS: you know i’m no good – amy winehouse | don’t threaten me with a good time – panic! at the disco | cigarettes & alcohol – oasis | fluorescent adolescent – arctic monkeys | tik tok – kesha | PINTEREST: xx PLAYLIST: xx

here’s a bonus picture of bea in her natural habitat:

— ☁ CONNECTIONS

your character and bea dated for a pretty long time, at least by her standards. they both fell pretty hard for each other, enough to power through the distance every time she went back to england. eventually bea’s self-destructive tendencies kicked in, and she ended things in the worst possible way [ taken: orion / harley’s 2nd character ]

your character can’t stand bea. for whatever reason, they abhor bea. they think she’s obnoxious, annoying, and gross. bea knows, and just doesn’t care, and won’t waste any opportunity to make this person feel even more uncomfortable around her [ open 0/1 ]

your character is, just like bea, at a crossroads at their life. for one reason or another, they need a place to live. just like bea. already friends through the la music scene, they’ve decided to find a place together [ taken: macy rhyes ]

your character kind of has a crush on bea ( for whatever reason ), but she has no idea [ open 0/1 ]

your character and bea are just good friends. she doesn’t have a lot of friendships who are purely platonic, so bea values this friendship very much, even if she doesn’t say it [ open 0/1 ]

your character cares enough about bea to help her get her shit together. they’re a positive influence in her life. sometimes they can take on a role of savior because, well, bea’s a disaster who sometimes can’t stand on her own two feet [ taken 0/1 ]

your character and bea haven’t slept together yet ( shocker ), but whenever they’re in the same room everyone can feel the sexual tension. for now, they’re just enjoying flirting incessantly [ taken: ben odell ]

your character and bea work together ( or will, eventually, once she gets a job ) [ open 0/?? ]

your character and bea hooked up once, or more than once, or they still hook up every once in a while [ open 0/?? ]

your character and bea dated for a few months, but ended things before she moved to la. they always had fun together, and despite having a bit of unfinished business, they still enjoy each other’s company. they still sleep together sometimes, but they’re not together anymore [ taken: knox kennedy ]

your character is an artist bea’s been a fan of for a while. she went to a show once, while she was visiting ryan, and found her way backstage, as she always does, where she made a friend for life [ taken: isis ]

literally anything else you can think of, i’m open to any and all connections !!!

[shamelessly4shameless-blog]

The Sand In Your Shoe (pt. 20 - Final)

Thank you to everyone who has read this fic and stayed with it since the beginning. This is the final chapter and I would really love to hear your thoughts so please do stop by and say hi. It’s been such a great journey to take with you all xxxx

Mickey is rocking up onto the balls of his feet, trying to peer over the crowd.

“Can you see them yet?”

“No, but they’ll be here.”

“Where the fuck are they?”

“Relax.”

Ian squeezes his fingers, their wedding bands clinking together. Mickey is anxiously worrying at the corner of his mouth with his incisors and Ian ducks down to press a kiss against the corner of his mouth. Mickey jerks his head irritably but stops fidgeting, a little more at ease.

“There! I see them!”

Ian waves and grins as Mickey freezes to the spot.

“Mick, they’re by the Starbucks, just over …”

“Yeah. I see. Do I look OK?”

Mickey is tugging at his collar and looking very much like he is about to be sick. Ian rests his hands lightly on Mickey’s upper arms, smoothing the fabric of his shirt and giving him an earnest smile that calms Mickey’s nerves instantly.

“You look great and this is going to be fine. If he didn’t want to meet you, he wouldn’t be here.”

“What the fuck am I gonna say, man?”

“Start off with ‘Hello’ and take it from there.”

Ian grins, giving Mickey’s arms and encouraging squeeze before letting go and stepping back out of the way. Mickey’s breath catches and stammers out of him as his eyes light on the young man walking towards them, Svetlana at his side. He is taller than Mickey, and a slimmer build.

*More like Ian.*

Mickey thinks automatically before berating himself for being stupid. He has his teeth set firmly in his lower lip and his bright blue eyes are looking Mickey up and down with obvious eager curiosity. There is a slight swagger in his step but it is tempered by the way he hovers at Svetlana’s elbow, not quite bold enough to break away and walk alone.

“He looks just like you, Mick.”

Ian murmurs behind him and Mickey nods, not quite trusting his voice. He realises he is scowling a bit and thumbs his upper lip, making a conscious effort to neutralise his expression.

Ian waits for Mickey to say something, to call out a greeting or wave. When it doesn’t happen he nudges him pointedly and Mickey clears his throat as if waking from a trance.

“Hello!”

The word sounds weird and kind of final and Mickey winces slightly

“Fuck.”

Yevgeny grins, his mother has told him that his father swears almost compulsively and it is nice to have a fact confirmed.

“Hey. So which of you is my dad?”

Mickey looks momentarily at a loss and then Svetlana slaps her son’s shoulder and rolls her eyes

“Ignore him, he is as stupid as his father.”

“Hey!”

Father and son glare at her as one, twin sets of blue eyes narrowing and then widening when they notice the similarity and hastily looking away. Svetlana gives Ian a small knowing smile and they share a look of mutual understanding. Apparently, Yevgeny has inherited his father’s love of new social situations.

Ian decides a small rescue is needed and steps forward, embracing Svetlana and then holding out his hand to Yevgeny.

“It is so good to see you both! Welcome to Mexico!”

“Thanks, it’s Ian, right?”

Yevgeny shakes his hand firmly and Ian gets a tiny thrill of pride

*Mickey made this kid. This sharp, beautiful boy. He’s Mickeys!*

“Yeah, can I take your bag? We parked right out front.”

Ian takes the rucksack from Yev’s hands and the kid immediately stuffs them into his pockets and switches his gaze back to Mickey, although both are doing their best not to appear too interested.

“Shall we go?”

Svetlana hoists her own bag onto her shoulder impatiently.

“I need a cigarette and fresh air.”

“Yeah let’s fuckin’ go.”

Mickey nods and turns on his heel, grabbing Yev’s backpack from Ian and holding it protectively as he leads the way.

“I must sit in the front, my travel sickness is very bad.”

Svetlana announces as they are loading the bags into the trunk of Ian’s old Ford. Yev shrugs and gets into the back of the car, closing the door behind him.

“I’ll drive.”

“What? No! Talk to your kid!”

“I can’t talk to him for that long! Jesus! I can’t even talk to you for that long!”

Mickey whispers furiously, looking up at Ian with wild, pleading eyes and Ian sighs in exasperation but quietly hands the car keys over.

*

Ian chats away happily as they make their way home. He fills Yevgeny and Svetlana in on local sites and local facts and makes Mickey stop to show them an old fountain outside a church that was apparently blessed by a saint.

Mickey leans against the car door and lights up a cigarette as Ian drags Svetlana closer to look at the inscription but Yev manages to dodge around a pale palm tree and loop back to the car before Ian can snag him.

“Can I bum a cigarette?”

He asks Mickey, looking up from under lowered brows, his voice unnaturally deep as he tries to be what he thinks his father will want a son to be.

“You smoke?”

“Psshh. Yeah! All the time. I fuckin’ love it.”

Yev licks his lip and stands up a little straighter. Mickey smirks slightly and nods to Svetlana

“Your Mom gonna tear me a new one if she sees you doin’ it?”

“Nah, man. She just has to deal.”

Yev puffs his chest out and mirrors Mickey’s posture, holding out his hand for the packet. Mickey snorts and hands it over, watching as Yev fumbles the lighter but finally manages to get it lit and inhales enthusiastically before doubling over coughing. Mickey grins to himself and claps a hand on Yevgeny’s shoulder, as the boy looks up utterly humiliated. Mickey hasn’t forgotten how fragile the ego is at sixteen, nor has he forgotten just how desperate he was to please Terry at every turn.

“Don’t worry about it, Mexican cigarettes are stronger. I should’ve warned you.”

“Oh. Yeah. No it’s cool. Thanks.”

Yev is blushing furiously and Mickey tries to think of a point of reference that they might share. He nods his head toward Ian and Svetlana

“You into history at all? Ian likes it.”

“Nah. What are you into?”

Mickey thinks for a moment. He can’t really say cigarettes, guns, pot, beer and sex. Well … maybe he could but he doesn’t want to. He tries to think of something Yev might approve of.

“I got a canoe a couple years ago, I like to take that out on the ocean.”

“Cool!”

Yev nods enthusiastically and Mickey grins, then clicks his head left and right, noticing with a faint touch of pride that Yev does the same. He begins to wonder if having a kid is really just like having a big puppy that follows you around adoringly and occasionally shits on the rug.

“I went on a boat once, it wasn’t a canoe but it was cool.”

“Cooler than a fuckin’ fountain?”

Mickey arches his eyebrows and nods toward Ian who is in full flow and Svetlana who looks bored to tears. Yev grins shyly and shrugs, scratching the bridge of his nose.

“Yeah, like, no offence to your husband though.”

“Ah, none taken, man. He’s not normally this much of a dork, just really excited to see you I think.”

“Yeah?”

Yev looks suddenly hopeful and Mickey isn’t sure why so he hedges his bets and changes the subject

“Doin’ good in school?”

“I guess. Mom writes you though, right? Tells you about school and stuff? She said she did that…”

“Oh yeah, I mean she does, I was just … I dunno. Just askin’ I guess.”

Mickey draws deeply on his cigarette and looks away and Yev mistakes his discomfort for annoyance

“You can ask! I mean, you paid for, like, more than half of it right? Mom says you always send money…”

Put like that Mickey realises just how flimsy his involvement has been and clears his throat self-consciously.

“Yeah.”

“Thank you by the way. You didn’t have to.”

Mickey has no idea what to do with being thanked for that and awkwardly pats Yevgeny’s shoulder, giving him a small smile.

“You’re welcome.”

The two stand in silence then until Ian finally releases Svetlana and they all resume their journey.

*

Evidently Yevgeny is feeling a little emboldened by having his first proper (sort of) conversation with his father because he is more chatty on the second leg of the journey. Ian can’t get enough of hearing the kid talk. He sounds just like Mickey! They both grew up in South Side so the inflections are the same but it’s more than that. Listening to Yev speak is like hearing Mickey as a teenager but with less threats and swearing. If Mickey had been into football and playing piano (fucking piano! Ian squeals internally) he would have sounded just like this.

“I prefer to compose my own stuff now, ya know? I mean, playing other people’s stuff is great but it is awesome to hear something you’ve imagined coming to life. Do you guys play any instruments?”

Mickey peers at Yev in the mirror and shakes his head

“A little guitar maybe but I suck. Never had the patience to learn.”

“None at all.”

Ian smiles guiltily at Yev, who shrugs and smiles.

“Mom wasn’t sure who I got my music talent from.”

“Not true, all your fine qualities come from me.”

Svetlana laughs, nudging Mickey with her elbow. Mickey tongues his lip and grins at her

“Hey, I changed a few diapers, that probably had positive impact, right?”

“Me too actually!”

Ian pipes up.

“So everyone in this car has seen my ass?”

“Pretty much. Yeah.”

Ian nods cheerfully and Yev sighs, a very familiar long-suffering sigh, blue eyes rolling wearily.

“Great.”

*

Yevgeny nods off about thirty minutes away from Galagers. Mickey checks in the mirror a couple of times, checking the gentle rise and fall of his sons chest.

“Anything I should keep my mouth shut about?”

He asks, looking pointedly at Svetlana. She shrugs and shakes her head

“He knows all there is to know.”

“Could you be a bit more fuckin’ specific?”

Mickey snaps irritably and Svetlana blinks languidly at him.

“He knows he is the product of unwanted sex between his homosexual father and hooker mother, forced by his paternal grandfather who has spent most of his life in prison. He knows his father is a fugitive who married the man who kidnapped him as a baby and lives in Mexico. He knows to keep his mouth shut about these things as well.”

Svetlana ducks her head, lighting a cigarette and then narrows her eyes at the dawning look of incredulous horror Mickey is giving her

“What?”

“ ‘What’? Are you fuckin’ kidding me? Those are fuckin horrible things for the kid to know!”

Mickey turns to look at Ian for reassurance and Ian nods grimly

“Yeah, that’s pretty fucked up, Svet.”

“What part of it is untrue?”

She snaps back at both men and Mickey frowns, shifting in his seat uncomfortably.

“None of it but, you know, I don’t want him thinkin’ he’s a rape baby. That’s a heavy thing for a kid his age to find out.”

“He has known since he was eight.”

“EIGHT?”

Mickey and Ian cry in unison and Svetlana shrugs a little defensively

“He asked why his father never calls or visits. What would you have rather I told him?”

“That I’m a fuckin’ asshole not worth his time! Jesus, Svetlana. Hey, did you let him believe in Santa or did you just slice that one right off the bat too?”

Mickey shakes his head angrily and Svetlana sighs heavily.

“Of course we had Santa, Idiot! But truth is important for children. Yevgeny is a sensitive boy, it is important for him to understand his existence.”

“It’s fucked up, that’s what it is.”

Mickey huffs and turns his attention completely to the road. Ian takes in the tense set of his husband’s shoulders and clears his throat tentatively.

“Perhaps it is good that he knows the truth. Means he gets it, Mick.”

Mickey grunts in response and the three of them lapse into silence.

“I’m sorry if it makes you angry. I thought it for the best.”

Svetlana ventures finally and Mickey flicks his eyes towards her, scanning for sarcasm and finding none.

“It’s fine. It sucks but yeah … it is the truth and … he seems happy enough.”

It is a question but he won’t allow himself to phrase it like one, just in case the answer is not what he desperately hopes to hear.

“He has always been a very happy boy. He wanted for nothing and grew up loved.”

Mickey rolls his shoulders and then sighs

“Well then… thank you, I guess.”

“Life is funny, yes?”

“Yeah. Fuckin’ hilarious.”

Mickey says dryly and Ian smiles slightly as Svetlana gives Mickey’s arm a very light squeeze.

*

For the first week, Yevgeny follows Mickey around constantly. He helps stock the bar, he goes to the store, he is into everything Mickey does and in turn Mickey swallows his natural inclination toward running errands in solitude and does his best to embrace Yev’s interest.

He takes Yev out in the canoe and after basically wrestling the kid into a life preserver, allows him to take it out by himself a few times, though he paces the shore anxiously each time until Yev is safely back.

Yev shadows him so faithfully that Mickey get’s kind of used to it so when Yev doesn’t appear one morning to drive into town, Mickey is a little disappointed. Not surprised, because getting booze and groceries with your dad can only be interesting for so long, right? But still, he has come to value the quiet thirty minute round trip and the easy flow of conversation.

He figures Yev must have gone down to the beach early because he isn’t on the sofa bed and Mickey runs the errand on his own. When he gets back, Svet has gone shopping in town and Ian is in the kitchen making coffee.

“You seen Yev?”

“No, we thought he was with you?”

“Nah. He never showed up.”

Mickey frowns and drums his fingers against his leg, instantly worried. Ian shrugs and smiles, handing Mickey a steaming mug.

“Probably just gone for a wander.”

“Yeah. Hey, the canoe ain’t on the porch, did you store it?”

“No. But that probably answers where Yev is.”

Ian’s cheery lack of concern grates on Mickey’s nerves and he scowls at his husband.

“Well he ain’t supposed to go out without telling me. What if a fuckin’ freak wave catches him?”

“Oh, you mean like all those ‘freak waves’ that we get warned about around here? Relax. He’s fine.”

Ian smirks and Mickey shoots him a withering look

“A freak wave would be a fuckin’ random occurrence, smart ass.”

“Maybe Yev put it away for you? Have you checked the lock-up?”

Mickey admits he hasn’t and Ian ruffles his hair affectionately, ignoring the impatient flapping as Mickey shoos him away

“I like seeing you in protective dad mode, it’s kinda hot.”

“I’m not in … shut the fuck up!”

Mickey allows a small grin to curl the corner of his mouth and takes his coffee and dignity outside, Ian trailing in his wake as he strides around the back of Galagers.

“So if the canoe is in there, are we going to calm down or shall we call the coast guard?”

Ian teases and Mickey is about to retort but a sound catches his attention and he holds up a stilling hand, setting his coffee cup on the ground. There is a muffled thumping coming from the lock-up and what sounds like crying.

Ian clearly hears it to because his eyes narrow and he grabs a plank of drift wood at his feet, nodding to Mickey. Mickey nods back and makes a ‘wait here’ gesture as he takes a firm grip on the door. One … two … three …

Mickey wrenches the door open ready to start swinging fists at the same moment as Ian lunges forward, plank of wood held high. There is a flash of dark skinned calve wrapped around a pale ass and then two high, guilty gasps of shock as the couple roll apart and hastily adjust their dishevelled clothing, scrabbling to their feet as the adults stare at them in horrified amusement.

“Hey Dad! Uh...”

Yevgeny gives his father a wonky smile as colour floods his face and he glances sideways at Christina, who is grimacing back at him.

Mickey glances down between the young couple and his eyebrows, which had shot up to his hairline, lower as he throws out his hands in a ‘what the fuck’ gesture

“Oh come on, man! On my fuckin’ canoe?”

“Sorry.”

Yev hunches his shoulders defensively. For a moment there is silence and then a strangled snort to Mickey’s right cuts through the air. Ian’s whole body is vibrating with suppressed laughter, his chin quivering helplessly.

“Really? You can’t hold your shit together for two fuckin’ minutes and be a grown up?”

Mickey looks up at him, shaking his head in exasperation but his own lip is trembling precariously. Christina grabs Yev’s hand and tugs him forward

“We’ll go ...”

“Oh really, Tina? You don’t wanna finish?”

Mickey quips but there is no heat to his words at all and he is rapidly losing the battle against his laughter.

“Um… No. It’s okay. We can go somewhere else.”

Yev mumbles and as Christina slaps her boyfriends arm, Ian loses his shit completely, doubling over and clutching his middle as he laughs.

“Oh Yev! Oh my God! No paternity test is ever going to be needed, kid. Oh my God!”

Mickey rolls his eyes at his husband before pointing a finger at his son

“I want it spotless in here, and learn to lock the fuckin’ door.”

He catches Ian by the collar and tugs him out

“Hey! Be safe! Condoms are in the bathr...”

“Not now!”

Mickey snaps at his husband, kicking the door shut behind them. Yev and Christina grin guiltily at each other and then have to smother laughs of their own as Ian happily asks when could possibly be a better time.

*

Mickey is scrolling through his phone on the porch a little while later and he glances up at the sound of footsteps.

“Hey.”

Yev approaches Mickey sheepishly, not sure whether he is actually in trouble or not.

“Hey. You walk Tina home?”

“Yeah. I mean, like, it’s the middle of the day but yeah, I did.”

“Good. She’s a nice girl. You treat her right, you hear me?”

Mickey fixes Yev with a stern blue eyed stare but his expression clears as soon as the boy nods.

“Alright.”

Yev scratches the back of his neck awkwardly and takes a deep breath

“You can yell if you want? I fucked up.”

“Nah, you’re fine. My dad caught me fuckin’ someone once, it happens.”

Mickey shrugs and Yev grins at him

“Yeah look how that ended up.”

He gestures at himself and Mickey snorts, amused. It’s a lame joke and kind of distasteful but that’s Mickey’s sense of humour too so how can he blame Yevgeny for having it?

“True.”

They are quiet for a minute and then Mickey coughs and ducks his head, looking up at his son from beneath gently swept brows. He has been thinking about when he would say something since Svetlana told him about Yevgeny’s knowledge of his conception and now seems as good a time as any.

“Hey listen, I … ah … I know you know how all that shit when down, how me and your Mom … anywya you know your Mom loves you?”

Yevgeny nods, his eyes huge and round, waiting for his father to continue.

“Well I want you to know that I love you too. If things had been different, I would have stuck around, Yevgeny. I would have been there. I never held any of that shit against you. You’re the one good thing to come out of it and I’m really glad you’re here. Me and Ian both are. I shouldn’t have left it so long.”

Mickey finishes and straightens to his full height waiting patiently for whatever Yevgeny might want to get off his chest. He owes him that much.

“Thank you but it’s fine. I’m here now and you and Ian are both being really cool to me. And I am sorry I had sex on the canoe.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

Mickey laughs as both of them grin, the tension draining from the atmosphere to be replaced with an easy companionship that is more than Mickey had ever dared hope for.

*

Yevgeny visits most school breaks and after high school he arrives in a battered old pick up to collect Christina for a tour of the USA, with a ring in his top pocket and a smile that melts Ian’s heart. He is young, beautiful and full of determined courage. Mickey hugs his son tightly and then steps back to let Ian in.

“I’m doing it, guys! I’m gonna ask her.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah Dad. I’m gonna wait until we get to New York and then I’m doing it.”

“Alright.”

Mickey nods and nudges Ian who slips Yev an envelope. Yev frowns and peers inside

“Guys, this is too much!”

“It’s a border crossing tradition in this family. When you start a new life, you get a wad of cash.”

Mickey grins and Ian shakes his head with a long suffering sigh, though a small smile is tugging at the corner of his own mouth.

*

Time winds onwards and soon Svetlana is stood in a beautiful Mexican church, cradling baby Miguel in her arms, utterly besotted with her first grandson.

“Ah! We have another set of those blue eyes in the world.”

She coos happily, glancing at her own blue eyed boy who is deep conversation with his aunt and uncle who have come to the church for the celebration.

“Yeah, he’s beautiful isn’t he?”

Ian smiles indulgently down at his grandson and carefully traces one chubby pink cheek with his finger. Yev makes his way over to them, looking at his watch.

“Do you think we should start? The priest is getting antsy”

“No, we must wait for your father.”

“Or what? It didn’t happen?”

Yev quips irritably, oblivious to the startle his words give his mother. Svetlana smothers her smile in the sweet smelling lace of Miguel’s gown.

The church doors open and all present turn to watch Mickey dash up the flagstones, waving his apologies

“Sorry! I had to pick something up.”

He takes the steps up to the font two at a time and produces a sleek box from his pants pocket, handing it to Yevgeny with another grimaced apology and then taking his place beside Ian and Svetlana who jabs him and whispers.

“Do you enjoy being late to christenings or is it just habit?”

“You always ask the weirdest fuckin’ questions.”

Mickey frowns as she happily passes his name sake into his arms. Mickey jiggles his grandson, looking down at him with a mixture of awe and pride.

“He’s perfect, isn’t he? I mean, I know I’m supposed to think that, but look at him!”

Ian kisses the greying hair at Mickey’s temple and nods

“He is. Milkovich’s make very pretty babies.”

Mickey smirks and hands Miguel over to Christina.

“Thanks Dad, and thank you both for the gift.”

She kisses his cheek gratefully and Mickey nods, blushing a little.

“You’re welcome.”

The ceremony is held in the same church as Mandy and Juan married in all those years before and Mickey and Ian take the same seats, their hands linked just as tightly.

The future which has always stretched so far before them zooms into focus and then expands beyond them, the legacy of their love carried on the lips and in the memories of their family.

They walk home from the ceremony, pausing to kick off their shoes when they reach the beach and strolling across the warm sand barefoot, hand in hand. They have walked home this way for nearly twenty years and despite being careful, there is still sand in their shoes at the end of every trip. Neither of them mind and neither could be happier.

[arielmagicesi]

Hi, sorry. So I am new to the st/efvater world, and I've only read one of her books (raven boys), and like I see you posting stuff about her a lot, but only like little bits and pieces, and I feel like I'm missing something and don't understand what's going on cause I'm not really in the fandom; I've just read one book, and don't really know anything about her. I'm sorry, this is rambling mess, but if you could enlighten me a little bit I would appreciate it.

OK I took a while to respond and I’m gonna try to be objective and polite but there isn’t a whole lot of objective politeness in this soul of mine, but I will try.

Maggie St/efvater (I only spell it that way so it doesn’t show up in her tag and annoy people, I’ll just call her Maggie for the rest of this post) is this fairly popular YA author, and she wrote the Wolves of Mercy Falls series, the Scorpio Races, and the Raven Cycle. Her writing is very good (I have some bones to pick about it as a writer but mostly it’s pretty good) and the Raven Cycle in particular has gained a big fandom because it’s an excellent series. I guess you would know cause you’ve read TRB- the concept is unique, it has cool magic stuff, there’s fascinating character concepts, and the teenagers do a lot of realistic teenager stuff like being annoying and cursing and either doing their homework or not, etc. And if I haven’t made it abundantly clear with my posts, a lot of us in the fandom fell in love with the main characters for many reasons, but especially because they represent parts of ourselves that aren’t often represented. Abuse victims who don’t react in a Good Abuse Victim way, poor teenagers who scrape and claw to get out of their shitty towns, mentally ill kids who have ugly unpleasant symptoms, girls who are feminists but whose feminism is a little messy because they grow up in a terrible small town, etc.

Unfortunately, the development of the Raven Cycle fandom online, like the development of ANY goddamn fandom on the accursed Internet, led to some gross pockets of fandom. In the second book, an abusive character called Ka/vinsky shows up, and some heavy subtext suggests that he’s gay and into one of the main characters, Ronan. He’s absolutely awful and monstrous to Ronan and the others, but you know how fandom is, they started shipping it and being like “Ka/vinsky’s just a misunderstood cinnamon roll uwu” and generally being the worst about it. Additionally, some parts of fandom started hating on the two lower-class characters, Adam and Blue, for not always being sweet and nice about the class privilege of all their wealthy friends, and for reacting "badly” to literal abuse and sexism.  so the fandom is a mess, yeah

In the second and third books, also, (spoiler alert I guess? I mean if you follow my blog you can’t avoid knowing this haha) it’s suggested and then made all but direct canon, that Ronan is gay and has a crush on Adam. So, like, everyone shipped it because they’re a great ship and it was pretty obvious it was gonna be made canon in book four.

But Maggie interacts a lot with the fandom online, and obviously the clashing of fandom issues like this with any author would lead to some mess, but the way she treated it was....... terrible. She would make jokes about Ronan being Gansey’s “dog” and things like that. She milked the whole “writing a gay character” thing for all it was worth, and would never really say “hey, Adam and Ronan are a romantic thing” but would hint at it constantly, which, if you don’t know, is agonizing to watch when you’re desperate for any representation of your identity. She eventually said “I realize you guys are used to being baited, so don’t worry, the ‘other kiss’ will be between the people you hope it’ll be between” or something like that. And she would talk about Ronan being gay, but never address whether Adam was bi, and god forbid those words were used in the books. In the fourth book, although they do actually kiss and presumably get together, they don’t talk about it, and they never use the words “gay” or “bisexual.” Her excuse was that she’s writing for a world without labels. Leaving aside that that’s bullshit and a straight* woman doesn’t get to say that when we are out here in a homophobic world and saying our labels out loud is a sign of pride, she actually didn’t write a world without labels. The aforementioned Ka/vinsky is constantly using homophobic slurs to describe Ronan, boys at the private school make homophobic jokes, Adam’s dad makes lowkey homophobic remarks, etc. So labels are OK if they’re nasty and negative and used against you, but you’re never allowed to say who you are out loud.

When she gets called out on this whole mess- or a number of other things**- her response is to block people, tell people “if you are hostile one more time you’ll be blocked,” to reply to private posts by teenagers, to sic her army of clueless fans on young LGBT mentally ill readers, to claim that she’s being bullied and attacked, to make vague posts talking about “callout culture” and how it’s mature to avoid “discourse,” etc. I talked a while back about how I’ve made several fully thought-out posts critiquing her, but when I sent her a polite ask about her next book, she replied linking me to one of my own joke posts about “hating” her, making it clear that she apparently has me down on some sort of list of haters or something. And at least she responded privately, so that her other fans didn’t attack me, which has happened to other younger fans before.

She claims to be an ally, but she only really wants the ally points. She’ll talk your ear off about how brave she is for “writing an on-page queer relationship” as a straight woman, but when actual queer teenagers critique her for the way she writes it, she throws a fit and absolutely refuses to listen. She doesn’t want to do the work.

Additionally, she is writing a follow-up series called “the dreamer trilogy” which she drops constant hints about on her social media. It will center on Ronan (naturally, because she’s admitted Ronan is her self-insert and has butchered his character development for the sake of giving him a life identical to hers and fulfilling her fantasies of driving fast cars 24/7 and being an asshole with no consequences) and she’s making it increasingly obvious that none of the other characters we all fell in love with will feature at all. And basically any plotllines we enjoyed, she scraps (often out of spite?), and any plotlines we hate, she makes sure to write tons about (I’m talking about the magical artifact community. No one cares. We started reading for the house of psychics and Glendower and Gwenllian, not the fucking Greenmantles and their haunted doll babies or whatever).

The fandom obviously responded with like “ooh! more Pynch!” because like, fandoms like ships, but ALSO BECAUSE some of us are goddamn LGBT teenagers who are starving for representation and we want to see that “on page queer relationship” she brags about. And yet, at every opportunity, she makes remarks like, “This won’t be a romance. It won’t be the cuddle trilogy. It won’t have relationship drama, that doesn’t interest me. It won’t be fanservice. It won’t be lovey dovey, it won’t be cute, etc.” No, I don’t want fanservice or drama or the cuddle trilogy. But given her history, when Maggie says shit like that, I get worried, as someone who’s been baited a thousand times before. Doesn’t anyone see how awful it is to dangle representation like this? To say “ooh, look, someone who has the same identity as you? Juuuust kidding I’m not writing about it?” She can’t just say what we want to hear, which is “Adam will be there. I’ll say the word gay. I’ll say the word bisexual. Their relationship will be treated as real as Blue and Gansey’s or as any other relationship I write. Not the main focus of the plot, but THERE.” Because she’s not GOING to do any of those things, because writing actual gay relationships makes her uncomfortable. But she can’t say that or she’ll lose her sales.

And when she says all this bullshit about “I won’t write a romance” she gets so much FUCKING praise from her straight readers who think she’s the sun and fucking stars because their shit brand of feminism thinks all romances are equal and romance is insipid drivel and that a feminist book, apparently, is one token white girl who has a pink switchblade being sort-of in the background of a bunch of rich boys fucking around. I’m not saying I didn’t like that very book and that I don’t love that girl and her switchblade, but Maggie has to actually LEARN and IMPROVE and not go backwards. If she wants all this credit for gay representation, she has to actually write gay representation. And if not, I’m not congratulating her for “not writing relationship drama!!!!” because all that says to me is “yuck, I’m not writing gay stuff.” She says “relationship drama doesn’t interest me” and yet she wrote pages upon pages of Blue’s mother making out with a hit man. Relationship drama sure does seem to interest her. This isn’t her taking a Stand against romance, it’s her finding a way to make homophobia seem cool and progressive.

So yeah. That’s why she pisses me off.

*I know I know, “she’s never said her sexuality! How can you call her straight?” On the off chance she’s bisexual (she’s married to a man with kids), that doesn’t excuse her homophobic bullshit. She’s acting like an asshole straight person so yeah I’m gonna call her straight.

**Here are some other problems she’s been called out for and her bullshit reactions:

-Blue is basically the only female character and has no female friends or anything. Maggie says “well none of them had friends!” OK so why isn’t there another girl in the group? Why is her family the only other women who have page time besides villains and other relatives of main characters?

-Gansey gives Adam a lot of grief for not being fond of Gansey’s wealth, but Adam never makes Gansey apologize for blaming Adam for the abuse he endured? Maggie doesn’t have a comment on this, I don’t think.

-In book four, Ronan and Adam make racist jokes at the expense of the One (1) character of color, Henry Cheng. Maggie didn’t address this outright because “spoilers” but made a post about it saying that it wasn’t meant to be a racist joke, it was a throwback to some random joke from book one, and any good reader would know that.

-Blue isn’t a very intersectional feminist, which is fine, but it’s never really addressed, apparently because “all the characters are damn fools!” Who never get any character development except for Adam whose development essentially consists of “I stopped being prejudiced against the rich!” (and lots of other personal things but still)

Yeah, that’s about all I can think of. This didn’t end up being very neutral but I have class in 10 minutes and yeah this is hella long I just wanted to get it all out. I hope I don’t get shit for this, but you know what, anons? Go ahead, send me stuff saying I’m a nasty bitch and should stay away from fandom for criticizing poor Maggie. I don’t even care.

OH AND THEBROKENBREAKINGSEAS: THANK YOU FOR YOUR QUESTION. I know I answered in a horrifically mean tone but that ISN’T directed towards you, you were just asking! Don’t take my words at face value, I’m super biased. If you’re interested, you can go read Maggie’s blog and Twitter account, or other fans’ essays on this, etc. I’m glad you asked! And thanks for still following me after all this stuff haha. I’m normally... nicer? I think? Thanks again.