#and they slowly start to realize that andrew really is just a person

[be-queer-do-arson]

"Baltimore reunion scene" this "shower scene" that you know what the actual best, most underrated andreil scene is? The scene on the bus in the kings men where Neil and Andrew sit together and spend three hours just talking. Neil, the pathological liar, spent three hours giving Andrew truthful information for free. Andrew, who's so withdrawn he quit taking for days and no one noticed, gave out details of his life, for free, for three hours. No games or trades involved.

[coffee-system-uwu]

After Andrew started making Neil hold his hand, Neil decided he loved it. A month or so later, he was trying to figure out how to take it a step further. He was scared less of embarrassing himself, and more of upsetting Andrew. Finding a comfortable next step might be a little difficult.

It hit him one lazy morning. He woke up first, which is to be expected. (Andrew wasn't a morning person and often grumbled about Neil's tendencies to be up at the cracks of dawn.) He was watching Andrew sleep, admiring his only slightly more peaceful face.

The only parts of them that was touching were the arm Andrew had stretched out under the pillow Neil was laying on, and the arm Andrew had thrown across Neil's waist sometime during the night. Neither one of them ever moved much while they were sleeping, so they were both still facing eachother.

Today he found himself staring at Andrew's lips. His mouth was so fascinating for Neil, because of the words he spewed like venom, and the kisses that he covered Neil in despite claiming indifference.

Neil was a little bit more selective of where he kissed Andrew, there were boundaries. But while he was admiring Andrew, he came to a bit of a realization once again, that as long as he asked, he might just be able to do the same, outside of the bedroom even.

A couple days later, the Foxes took a pitstop for coffee on the way to a game, they weren't particularly worried about their opponent, it'd be an easy win and everyone knew it. It was almost unfair how much of an advantage the Foxes had.

While they were waiting in line, Andrew grabbed Neil's hand. It wasn't really romantic, Andrew was still stiff about it, but it sent a shiver down Neil's spine regardless. Now would be a good time.

"Yes or no?" His voice might've cracked, but Andrew thankfully didn't mention it, he just raised an eyebrow and considered him slowly.

"Yes."

Neil took a deep breath and turned towards Andrew, leaning down. Andrew started to tilt his head up, seemingly expecting a peck on the mouth. But Neil carefully raised a hand to Andrew's head and turned it so he could place a kiss on Andrew's forehead.

The reaction when Neil pulled away was immediate. Andrew's face flushed and his eyes widened as he stared at Neil in disbelief. A couple seconds later he regained his composure. He jabbed Neil in the side with his free hand, and squeezed the hand that was holding Neils so hard Neil wouldn't have been suprised if bones broke.

"You're a fucking Junkie." He hissed.

"You liked it."

"I hate you."

[bipanicoverthegravessiblings]

Spare a little Yandere Ashley, please?

Isn’t that just canon? Oh well!

TW: Possessive Behaviors, Swearing, and Suicide Mentioned

Yandere!Ashley Graves x GN!Reader

Ashley couldn’t explain why she felt so strongly towards you

Maybe it was your looks. The way your eyes lit up when talking about your interests. Your voice. Or…maybe it was cause you were the only person (who wasn’t Andrew) to make her feel cared about

It started with small, insignificant things. A hello in the morning when you crossed paths. Compliments on her hair or outfit that day. A look of pure adoration when she spoked.

It wasn’t until your actions became more noticeable did she truly realize you cared about her.

“Ah shit!” Ashley hissed under her breath at the falling droplets of water.

Of course it had to rain, the one day she didn’t bring a stupid umbrella- or have Andrew to shield her- it rained. She stomped her foot in frustration, her face puffing up in fury towards Mother Nature. She sighed and was about to step forward and seal her fate with the cold and wet when—

“Here,” a familiar voice called to her, “We can share my umbrella.”

Ashley blinked, surprised. Her head slowly turned to look back at the source of the voice. Her assumptions were correct, as you smiled at her- umbrella in hand.

“Uh-…thanks-“ wearily, Ashley stepped closer to you- her arms hugging her body cautiously.

She stayed close to you, her body practically pressed against yours as you both shared the safety of the umbrella. A small blush painted her cheeks as she felt…safe pressed against your form. You always were so kind to her…

From there, she noticed your kindness more and more. And each time it made her heart melt. She felt so loved. So cherished.

…but then she saw that you treated everyone that way. Basic human decency to everyone you came into contact with. She especially hated it when it was other women.

She wasn’t special- she wasn’t as important as she thought. And that pissed her the fuck off.

She ignored you at first- thinking the silent treatment would do you some good. Teach you a lesson.

But then…it hit her-

You’re so kind. And these hussies would do nothing but take advantage of you. That’s what they were doing….taking advantage of you.

Obviously she’d have to protect you.

Ashley clung to your arm, holding you back from chasing after the woman who just ran off. You stared off, wide eyed, before turning to look at Ashley.

“Wh- What was that about?” You sounded dumbfounded, “Why did you scare her off?”

“You couldn’t see it?” She replied, her head tilting slightly.

“See what?”

“She was taking advantage of you, Y/N!” She extended an arm out in the woman’s general direction.

No. She- she wasn’t. Right? How could Ashley know that?

“How do you know that?” Your eyes dared to leave Ashley’s as you looked off towards the fleeing woman again.

“Wow, you really are too nice for your own good.” Ashley grabbed your chin and turned your head to face her once again, “It was so obvious! Cold-hearted hussies like that see a good person like you and want to drain you for everything you’ve got. You’re just too sweet to see that hun.”

Ashley’s nails dug into your arm. You winced from the pain, but didn’t object.

“You need someone like me to help you see that..” her voice was low, her knuckles white from how hard she dug her nails into your arm, “To protect you.”

And protect you she did

You began gaining a reputation in the area, and not a good one.

“Stay away from Y/N, or their girlfriend will bite your head clean off!” “That crazy chick always hangs around them- best stay away.” “I heard their friend harassed a girl into jumping off a bridge.”

Your own friends became scared of you. They slowly stopped answering your calls- all until you confronted them and they gave you their official goodbyes

“Look it’s just..” your friend shoved their hands into their pockets, eyes glued to the ground to avoid your hurt expression, “I think it’s best if we just take some time apart.”

You felt like they had more to say…but you didn’t prod as they walked away from you.

You were now completely alone

Well…except for Ashley.

She comforted you when your friends left. She was protecting you against the people taking advantage of your kindness. She was there for you when everyone left.

You were hers. Forever.

[jadededge]

Siren | Christian Yu - Ch. 2

Pairing: Christian x You

Genre: Demon AU, Romance, Smut, slight Horror

Rating: M

Summary: That voice. It started calling me during the darkest moments of the night, like a siren luring me further into the deep and it has continued for weeks.

Wattpad | AO3   (will likely always update these 2 places first)  

Navigation: Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3

I'm awake. "I'm awake. What was that?" My heart was racing as I tried to cling to the details of what I'm sure was just a dream. A very vivid dream. But it felt so real. As I tried to sit up, I wince. My body is sore all over but I can't remember what happened to me.

After laying for what felt like hours, I got up to get ready for work. I slowly make my way to the mirror and take a look at myself. "What is that?!" I zero in on a strange bruise just below my right breast. It's got a funny shape, but I cant remember exactly how it got there.

In the distance of my mind I vaguely recall bits of what happened in the dream but with every passing moment I forget more and more, including his name. I can only see clearly his eye, his eyes. And that voice.

Shrugging off the unease that crept up my spine, I continued my routine, inspecting my body for anymore abnormalities. I wasn't looking forward to going to sleep that night but I told myself, just get through today and worry about that later.

Though, since that day, I stopped hearing the voice. The first couple of nights, I was afraid to fall asleep. I was afraid I would be lured back into his or its lair. But nothing. I slept peacefully for quite a few days. On the sixth day, I chalked it up to my imagination. The bruise disappeared, and I slowly began to go back to normal. His eye, his eyes, and that voice were the only memories of the dream that remained.

On the 7th day, however, my literal world turned upside down.

"I'm exhausted. How much longer must we carry this load." My coworker Kira laments as we chat during lunch at a café near the office. "It's been 3 weeks since Jason got fired and we're still carrying these extra assignments."

"I know. I didn't think he was the type to steal. He's honestly the best director I've worked for. You know, other than the stealing thing." I add.

She nods, "Same! I heard they may be close to finding someone. They need to hurry it along. We've got a deadline and a butt load to go."

I nod in agreement.

Once we arrived back at the office, we noticed quite a few people up and gathering around one of the manager's door. Another coworker Andrew is hanging back and looking on.

"What's going on?" I ask.

"Boss found a replacement for Jason. Guess they finalized everything over lunch." He whispers to Kira and I.

"Oh wow! I wonder if he's cute." Kira says excitedly causing Jason to roll his eyes.

I can't clearly see the new person from where we're standing. But just as the crowd parts slightly, I get a clear view, and my heart stops.

I gasp and freeze in place. "You okay?" Kira asks.

I can't answer and my vision tunnels. As if he sensed me, he turns to me and stares directly into my eyes and smiles slowly, a bright devious smile. I start to panic.

"I'm uh. I'm okay. I just need to sit down for a second." I retreat to my office quickly and shut the door.

"It's him. I- I can't remember what he did but it's him. How?" I start panicking. I really wanted to go home. I can't think straight and there's no way I'm going to get any work done. "Let me at least email Kira and let her know I'm working from home the rest of the day." And tomorrow.

As I'm packing my things to go, a knock at my door broke me out of my thoughts. "Come in."

I don't know why I didn't expect him to walk in, because of course.

"Hi." He steps in smiling brightly at me. Something about it was sinister. "You must be..."

"You." It slips out before I'm able to contain myself.

He tilts his head to the side, still smiling. "Me?"

"Yes. Y- you" I'm stuttering I never stutter. I realized I'm scared, but I cant scream. I can't ask for help. His voice sounds similar but not the same. It's not as deep. Am I imagining things?

"Yes I'm Christian. Your new supervisor." He steps further into my office, not closing the door completely. That does little to comfort me. "You must be..." he extends his hand to shake mine.

The way he sounds when he says my name makes my head spin. It was much deeper. Guttural. Just like that voice. Deep down, I know it's him. But he shows no signs of skipping a beat. I feel like I'm losing it again. I quickly stand trying to grasp my sanity. I place my hand in his and it all comes back to me. The dream I had mostly forgotten. I've got to get away from him. I pull my hand back quickly.

"I'm uh-sorry, I was leaving early for the day. I'm not feeling well and I really need to leave."

"Oh I'm sorry to hear that. I hope you get some rest." He's just smiling.

[dvrcos]

Aaron Minyard is a dick yes but he’s a dick because he’s a scared ex-addict kid who’s desperately clawing at anything he can to be “normal” and not a Fox™.

Date the sweet cheerleader who also wants to be a doctor, get the 4.0 gpa, become a surgeon, Stay Away From The Foxes because association means he’s damaged and he’s Not Damaged anymore and definitely don’t talk to the therapist because that means he needs help which he Does Not Need. Keep the appearance of the “normal Minyard”.

He grew up in an abusive home with an addict mother who made him into an addict. Keeping up the normal appearance has been the name of the game his entire life, it’s second nature. Don’t let anyone suspect anything. Being apart of the Foxes comes with a reputation and that scares Aaron, it threatens a rickety appearance he’s oh so carefully built to protect himself from others (and mostly himself tbh).

Being an asshole and outwardly a dick is his trauma response. It’s the result of his refusal to process and come to terms with his past. He’s a dick to others because he’s the biggest dick to himself.

(Me personally, I also think his homophobia comes from a place of internalized shame and homophobia. Once again, he grew up with it drilled into him that he Needs to be “normal” and put together and I assume he probably also grew up religious ((his uncles a homophobic pastor who boarder line hates his own son)). Aaron grew up seeing how Nicky was treated for being openly gay. If he started having any thoughts about being anything other than straight, his first response would be anger and shame that’s expressed outwardly.)

His response to his internal shame and anger is to lash outwards at others rather than process it. (which isn’t an excuse, I just don’t think he’s an asshole because he’s an asshole at his core but because he carries a lot of shame.)

I think him rooming with Matt is what would really help him improve his ability to process his shit. (Along with more joint therapy with Bee and Andrew). Seeing Matt, another ex addict, who is fiercely kind and protective of the Foxes, who’s unashamed of his past and how it affects him now would be an eye opener for Aaron. His past doesn’t define him but it’s not something he can deny either.

Matt helps him see the Foxes as a group who has overcome their struggles. Who are helping eachother continue to over come their struggles. And he slowly starts to realize he can let them in and he can accept his past and still be successful and have the life he wants. And start to process and change the way he reacts the way he does.

(And process his not straight thoughts bc bi Aaron is real in my heart)

[indecisivemuch]

Time wasn't in our favor - Prologue

Pairing: TASM Peter Parker (Andrew Garfield) x Female!Reader

Summary: What if...your soulmate is from another universe but you didn't know? Soulmate AU. Set during NWH, fluff.

Note: Hi, this is the first piece I've ever published and it's part of a series (to be fair, part 1 and 2 is more exciting, but this establishes the background). It slightly won't match with MCU's timeline. Based on 'See you later' (ten years) by Jenna Raine.

Word count: 2.8k

Series Masterlist: Prologue, Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Happy Ending, Sad Ending.

Soulmates were something that only came by recently. Nevertheless, it was something that Y/N wasn’t very fond of, unfortunately.

Hopelessly staring at the spider tattoo on her wrist, Y/N bitterly wrapped her black bandana over it.

After careful observation, scientists declared that upon turning 16, teenagers worldwide would discover a mark on their right wrist: an unremovable symbol identical to one single person in the universe. Those already above the age would miraculously receive it on the same day of establishment. This was also, unfortunately, established during the snap. So many who found their soul mark during that time never found their person. Some thought that their soulmate was dead, until people were resurrected.

It wasn’t that Y/N hated her soulmate. She just didn’t like the concept of it. To fall in love with somebody just because you knew they were the one, and nothing else. Where’s the thrill of knowing uncertainty? Where was the risk? And mostly, the reason she grew bitter about it was: what's to say your feelings for the person were genuine rather than a manifestation of the concept?

This came from Y/N’s personal experience, one that she wished she could forget.

She met Peter and Ned two years ago. Being the second most intelligent student in school, she thought they would have had the stereotypical rivalry. However, that wasn’t the case. They got along just fine. The two clicked straight away - too quickly, in fact.

That was the beginning of the trio.

It didn’t take long for her to realize that the boy was Spiderman, either. After all, the signs were clear as day if anybody had looked into it. Especially with her intelligence, it was bound to happen. From then, the three became even closer, to the point where she saw Peter and Ned as family. This meant that things were all great for Y/N. She was living the life she had always dreamt of: an amazing friend group, a well-paid internship, and good grades.

However, everything went downhill that day, and she remembered every detail.

12th October.

Well, hard to forget, really. It was the "Blip" day, known as the resurrection of those who were victims of Thanos' snap.

Y/N remembered lying on her bed, staring at the ceiling. One second, the fan above her was spinning. The next, it was standing still and covered in spider webs. Her bedroom felt a lot dustier, too. 

It was strange for her because merely seconds had passed. But something felt wrong, so the girl called out to her parents. However, no replies rang through the house.

An itching feeling took over Y/N’s right wrist. She scratched and thought nothing of it until it started to sting. Then Y/N saw it: the tattoo etching on her wrist slowly, forming into something.

Her eyes widened when the formation finished.

"A spider?" she questioned out loud, grimacing at the sound of her scratchy voice.

Just then, she got a text from Ned. Peter's text came a few moments later. She skimmed through them, realizing that the boys were on their way to her house.

"What did you get, Y/N?" Y/N screamed when she heard a voice asking. Upon realizing it was Spiderman on her window, relief took over her.

"Gosh, you have to stop doing that," she complained, fully convinced that she would die from a heart attack caused by Peter someday.

"But "get" what?" the girl asked, slightly confused.

"Your soulmate mark? Apparently, it came about during the five years of me being snapped," Peter took his mask off, climbing fully into her room rather than sitting on the window.

“Snapped?”

“Oh...I didn’t know you were part of it. Right. Long story short, Thanos snapped his fingers and half of the universe vanished...it’s been five years, and we just got back.”

“What the fuc-”

"Look what I got," the boy spoke up, hoping to distract his best friend from panicking. 

“Are we just gonna skip over what you s-” Y/N paused mid-sentence when her eyes landed on the mark on her best friend’s wrist.

That was the moment.

Y/N snapped her head from the young hero of Queens's wrist to his face.

Suddenly, those plain brown eyes belonging to Peter Parker seemed to hold a glimmer of autumn firewood warmth in them. They looked prettier and so innocent. Something about it had made her body freeze, but everything within her was melting.

Little things she didn’t notice before, they were made aware of.

But then her heart ached for some reason - it was wrong, but she didn't know. The girl thought her heart was reminding that while, seemingly, her heart was beating for Peter, his was beating for Michelle Jones, the kind-hearted beauty who stole his heart from just a couple of words and exchanges.

So Y/N did what she thought was best then: to step away. If the concept was real, someday, he would realize that MJ was not the one for him.

Oh, how wrong Y/N was. Before she knew it, the class trip had come along. The girl helplessly watched Ned become Peter’s wingman. Of course, she didn’t tell Ned, as much as she adored him. The boy wasn’t really good at keeping secrets. Besides, Ned was Peter’s 'bestest' of friends. There was no doubt where his loyalty would stand if the two turned against each other.

Y/N watched as they attempted again and again for MJ and Peter to get together during the trip. And failed again and again.

Maybe he would give up now?

Oh, how wrong she was, again.

“Peter!” Y/N yelled, concern etching every inch of her face. She ran towards Peter. The battle against Mysterio was now over. Throughout the event, her heart barely had time to rest, always thumping against her chest, worrying about the teenager who wore a superhero costume that attracted him to danger.

Her arms wrapped around his weakened body, breathing heavily.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine Y/N,” and before she could mutter another word, the boy limped towards MJ.

Y/N turned around, thinking that the little pain couldn’t get worse.

That was when she saw it: the sheer look of adoration on Peter's face. It signified something a lot bigger, something that tore Y/N down - love. He was looking at MJ the way she wished her soulmate would look at her.

Peter nodded eagerly at what MJ said. Her hands were on each side of his face. MJ had the same expression of concern that was once on Y/N’s face.

Before Y/N could register the scene in front of her, the two teenagers started kissing amidst the mess. Yet, that wasn't the last strike. All Y/N saw at that moment was the tattoo on MJ's wrist, slowly shifting colour.

Identical to hers, MJ’s wrist also sported a spider tattoo. The only difference then was MJ's ink, which was in a colour Y/N now hated: Red.

As cliché as it was, upon the first kiss with your soulmate, your tattoo would turn red. It signified commitment and love.

Y/N waited.

She waited for the pain, the heartbreak, the sorrow, yet none came.

She stood there. Her heart dull, as if the scene produced no effect. Her brain, however, was screaming and yelling at herself and Peter. It couldn't comprehend the situation - did Peter have two soulmates? Or was he not hers?

That was when she caught onto the small difference between their tattoos, the way hers had two slightly shorter spider legs.

Realization dawned on the girl, as Y/N realized she had just experienced a roller coaster ride called false hope. It shattered her faith in the whole concept. She ridiculed the fact that she fell in love with Peter simply because she thought he was her “the one” instead of, perhaps, actually falling for him. She blamed the concept of soulmate for blinding her.

So she shunned it. The girl bought numerous bandanas, determined to cover away the tattoo that had familiarized itself into her memory.

Peter Parker was her first heartbreak, yet he never knew.

Both him and Ned wondered why Y/N started despising her tattoo. Did she find out who it was and wasn’t pleased with it?

They asked. She shook them off. Either shrugging or brushing the question away seamlessly. Both the boys assumed that perhaps it would be better to stop interrogating the girl. So they stopped, and she was glad.

Days later, the world learnt of Spider-man’s identity. Despite being the smartest person in his school, Peter decided to mess with a time spell to revert the damage.

The result was detrimental.

The next thing Peter knew, he was fighting a man with robot octopus legs on a bridge while trying to convince the 'MIT lady' to give MJ, Ned, and Y/N a fair chance to be considered for MIT. Several days later came the death of Aunt May.

Meanwhile, Y/N was forbidden to associate with her friend group. Her mother was worried upon receiving letter after letter of University rejections. 

After taking on the duty of Spiderman, Peter's grades barely slipped, but it was enough for Y/N to surpass him and become the top student at Midtown high school. Despite liking Peter, her mother was delighted with this development. However, right now she couldn't be more disapproving of the young superhero. Because of him, Y/N could potentially not get into any university.

So here Y/N was, sitting on her bed, preparing a speech so she could plead her case to universities who had rejected her - which were all of them. Not long after, she sensed a gush of wind in her room. The girl looked at her window, which was shut.

"Y/N!" she snapped her head at the voice of Ned yell-whispering at her. Standing next to him was MJ, while between Y/N and the other two teenagers was a portal similar to the ones Doctor Strange summoned before.

"Ned?" she matched the same tone, not wanting to catch her mother’s attention in the room next to hers.

"Come, hurry!"

"I can't just leave."

"We really need your help, please. Peter needs us."

She froze at their pleading. It was obvious that they were desperate, but what kind of help did they need her to supply with?

"Alright..." she trailed off, hoping that she would not regret this decision. It was most probable that her mom would ground her for life after this.

Running through the portal, she saw Ned making finger motions which shut the magic circle behind her.

Little did she know the things ahead of her.

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

Thank you for reading the Prologue!

Continue: Part 1

[socially-awkward-skeleton]

All Along the Watchtower (Chapter 9)

[Can also be read on AO3]

Pairing: Captain John Price x Fem!OC (3rd person POV)

Word count: 3K

Warnings: Minors DNI - no major warnings. Alcohol, swearing

Summary: Rory heads to Helios to ensnare Zorokov and capture him for questioning. Dangling herself like bait, leaving herself open to danger.

A/N: Rory Sinclair is a dual citizen (both Canada and the UK) who's been living in the UK since she was 14. She is 28 at the time of this fic, Price is 32. This series is set in 2017 before the events of the first MW game. Rory's thoughts are bold and italicized, other italics are used for emphasis

October 20, 2017 21:20 - Helios 

The chill of the night bit into her flesh as she stood in line to enter the club. Black straps and poles keeping her, and the others corralled in a regimented line. Christ, even waiting to get into a club felt like a military exercise. An all too unkind reminder of the fact that her and Price had just spent an exorbitant amount of time eye fucking each other back at the safe house, breaking all proper conduct and protocol between an enlisted soldier and an officer completely. In the moment, it felt like the most natural thing to do, led by old feelings and anything but sense. But like a bucket of cold water being splashed upon her, she had sobered up and now faced the dawning realization that she was speeding towards another awkward encounter and conversation with the captain causing her knees to wobble gently and her stomach to twist. 

A shiver coursed through her, the coat she wore doing little to hold back the wind that nipped at the swaths of exposed flesh underneath, the silky material of her dress thin enough to let the air blow right through to her bones. Thinking back on Price's reaction to her, and on what she had volunteered to do as part of the mission caused Rory’s breathing to become a little more strained, the stress of the situation not lost on her. What she’d give for a cigarette right about now. Just a hint of nicotine to stave off the lingering doubt that hung around her neck. That little thunder that clouded her mind and shook like metal sheeting against her temples. Her wind bitten knuckles clenched tighter as she squeezed her clutch bag in her hand. Her eyes kept on the front of the line as the queue slowly started to filter forward towards the very large, burly bouncer at the front doors. Her stomach cramping ever so slightly more at the thought of having to flirt with a bastard like Zorokov. Maybe she could just picture Price instead…

“ How are we doin’, Sinclair? ” Andrew’s voice rang as clear as a bell in her ear through the nearly imperceptible earpiece hidden by her hair, and she was pulled from her wandering thoughts. Quick to turn away from the sight of the bouncer, Rory hid the fact she was muttering under her breath, “Freezing my arse off. I’ll be lucky if my lips aren’t blue by the time I get to Zorokov.” Her whispers were a quiet hiss as she pulled her coat a little tighter to her body, despite the draft blowing up it. 

“ The things we suffer through for our jobs, eh? ” Andrew's tone was jovial, enjoying her being stuck like this a little too much. The arsehole . “Shut it, you,” Rory replied. “You’ve no right to say that to me from the comfort of a warm vehicle.”

“ Only a matter of time till you're inside, Sergeant. Thought you went through SAS survival training?” Price's low chuckle was pleasing in her ear, she didn't even mind the fact that he was clearly ribbing her.

“You're going to tease me too, eh?” She cracked a grin as another shiver wracked her. 

“ You can handle it, sweetheart .”

Her brows lifted. That was new. A pet name while they were supposed to be working…a pet name at all really beyond saying ‘good girl’ seemed even more out of place. She said nothing about it and instead smiled to herself, a comforting warmth filling her cheeks despite the cold already turning them pink. “I can, doesn’t mean I have to like it, sir. ”

The queue shuffled forward, and she was now just a few heads away from entering the building, the thumping music steadily growing louder. The beating electronic music matched the rhythm of her heart as it began to increase. Finally reaching the front rope, the bouncer gave her the nod of approval to enter, and she was hit by the flurry of lights and sounds that filled the large, darkened, industrial designed nightclub. Black leather furniture, chrome and neon – she felt like she was walking into a set from Blade Runner. Her first stop was the coat check, sliding the long coat off her arms and handing it to the girl behind the counter, she moved further in and the heat of the bodies crowded in together hit her like a wave. Strobe lights flashed, the music blared, and she did her best to scan the area looking out for the target. Snaking her way through the crowd towards the bar, she waved her hand to get the attention of one of the bartenders as she stood at the counter. It had been some time since she had done this sort of thing, often opting for an actual bar rather than clubs even in her youth. She still had one trick up her sleeve however, putting two fingers in her mouth she whistled over one of the bartenders and finally was served. 

“могу я получить виски?” <Russian: Can I get a scotch?>

She was thankful Price taught her enough Russian to at least allow her to order her drink of choice. A little dutch courage to keep herself focused, to keep her calm. As she waited, she tried to simulate being relaxed as possible, not looking around too much to make her appear suspicious but keeping her wits about her to stay on the lookout for trouble. 

“ Any sign of him, Sergeant? ” Price’s rumbling timbre vibrated through her. 

“Not visual yet, but my eyes are peeled.” 

Glancing over her shoulder, she looked back at the stairs that led to the VIP section. It was her goal to get up there with Zorokov and get him alone for the takedown. She had memorized the layout of this place from the plans that Laswell had dug up and knew where every security camera was placed and every possible exit, anything to give her the upper hand in this meeting as she dangled herself like a mouse on a string. At this point, his scheduled appointments had already begun, and it was just a matter of time before he would come down and make his presence known – she just had to try and win his attention.   

A few moments passed and the tumbler glass of scotch was slid along the bar on a black paper napkin and placed in front of her by the bartender. Quick to pick up the glass, she sipped on the amber liquid, letting its warmth fill her from the inside out. Hints of sherry from the oak barrels it was aged in hit her tongue first, then the spicy notes of black pepper and the sweetness of vanilla. Just one drink of this could put her at ease. She swirled the liquid around and around, the weight of the sloshing scotch seeming to relax her as she waited for her first sight of Zorokov. Turning to rest her elbows back on the bar, arching her back just a little so her chest pressed forward, she kept an eye on as much as she could. 

It didn’t take long before the first suitor came to her side, his eyes dragging over her like she was a buffet table and he was famished. Making a comment to her in Russian, she was quite sure after she responded in what was supposed to be a polite decline of his advances that the captain had taught her something rather the opposite, especially as the man stormed off with more choice words for her in Russian.

“Fucking hell, what did you teach me to say, Price?” she whispered harshly. 

A quiet snicker came through her earpiece, broken by his husky voice, “ Never you mind, just keep saying it and you shouldn’t get any cling ons. Can’t have you getting distracted. ”

“Bastard,” she muttered under her breath. 

“ I heard that .”

Rory chuckled to herself and took another sip of her drink, scanning the area, her eyes flicking back up towards the VIP area searching for a hint of that slicked blonde hair she had seen before, but all remained quiet. Taking a deep breath, she gave her neck a little stretch from side to side, trying to lean into the patience she had honed as a sniper. After her SSC training was completed, she was no longer pushed into the action of the front lines and instead she had to learn the pace that required her to be forced to camp out for hours, sometimes days at a time, in a nest to get the shot she needed. This was no different. The target was more important than her comfort, that was something she had quickly discovered in her time as a soldier, and despite the fact that she was using herself as bait, this was still more attractive an idea than having to sit in the burning hot heat, sweat dripping down her arse crack or in puddles of murky standing water being bitten by God knows what. This – for all intents and purposes – was easy.

Time passed, she ordered a second drink, several more men showed interest in her and she blew them off the same way Price had taught her. It was practically clockwork now. At least she knew the outfit was working for her. It was just a matter of time for the big man himself to come down the stairs, and just like that – speak of the devil – the door to VIP access opened and Zorokov in his trim, black sharkskin suit stepped out still chatting away with his legion of “colleagues”. 

Her eyes narrowed for just a moment, that warrior’s instinct in her revealing itself. “Head’s up, got eyes on the target now. He’s just stepped out from his meeting.”

“ Keep on him, Sergeant .”

“Copy.”

Zorokov moved like he was king of the castle. Untouchable . Pulling on the fronts of his suit jacket, buttoning it up as he slithered his way past the patrons and made his way to the bar. 

“He’s headed in my direction now.”

“ Just keep it together, yeah? ”

She took a deep breath and took a quick swig of her drink. Now or never. As the oligarch drew near, she did her best to draw his attention, focusing on the way she posed while maintaining a relaxed aura about her, the last thing she needed was him figuring out this was a sting. His dark eyes landed on her, and she pretended not to notice him, glancing away – a simple lure to pull him in. Just like a fisher’s fly in the water, she’d snare the big fish in the little pond. His stare roamed over her as she nonchalantly continued to work on her drink and he was quick to pull up a spot beside her at the bar, his arm brushing against hers. Something like regret already began coiling in her gut, everything about the presence of this man was oily and slimy to her, like she could taste his venom in the air around him.  

“Хотите еще?” <Russian: Would you like another?>

She glanced over sideways towards him, putting on her softest, most innocent smile. Her eyes went wide as she batted her lashes up at him. “Oh, I’m sorry. I’m a tourist. I don’t speak a lick of Russian. Or at least nothing beyond yes, no, and hello.”

“ God, you’re good at this ,” Andrew whispered in her ear. 

“Quite alright.” Zorokov’s smile widened like a snake about to strike. “Lovely accent by the way.”

She could already picture Price either smugly smirking or growling over that reaction, it was what he had expected after all, but she wasn’t quite so sure he would actually enjoy the fact that his prediction was correct. “Thank you.” She faked the blush to her cheeks as she smiled by thinking about the Captain’s reaction to her earlier, his wandering eyes, that subtle bite to the inside of his lower lip. 

“You sound much too good for a place like this.” Zorokov’s dark chuckle was menacing despite this being his attempt to flirt with her. 

“Do I?” Her voice was sultry and smooth as she asked the question, looking up at the target with large doe eyes. 

“Like a proper Englishwoman. Good manners, good upbringing. Very attractive.” He leaned in towards her, stepping just a little too far into her personal space, his nostrils flaring as he breathed in her perfume. “You said you were a tourist, yes? What brings you to the motherland?”

“Traveling across Europe. I’ve already been to France and Spain, seen Germany and the Netherlands. Figured it was time to see the Big. Red. Bear .” She smirked, making sure to emphasize each word. 

“And have you enjoyed your stay so far?”

A slow smile creeped across her lips. “It has certainly had its high points.”

“Has it?” Zorokov leaned in even closer, his gaze lowering down the neckline of her dress.  “Perhaps I can make it even better for you?”

Her brows lifted, eyes widening, remaining coy. “Oh?”

Nodding his head in the direction of the upstairs VIP area, he gave her a knowing grin. “I might be able to give you reason to extend your stay.”

Rory hummed, sipping on her drink. Swallowing her scotch, she smiled and licked the few drops off her lower lip.  “You can certainly try.”

He held out his hand in the direction of the stairs, a clear invitation to lead the way and she took a deep breath, whispering as she moved out of Zorokov’s sights should he try to lip read, “Heading into the VIP area now.”

“ Copy. Break a leg ,” Andrew replied.

Each step up the stairs sent a shiver down her back; she was marching right into the viper’s nest. Get him alone. Get close. Place the bug on him. And then wait for the cavalry to arrive to bring him in for questioning. It was simple enough, foolproof even. But that churning in her gut wouldn’t stop. The heightened awareness, battle readiness, caused every little nerve in her to want to flinch, feeling like she had eyes growing on the back of her head. 

Upon reaching the door to the upper floor, Zorokov moved up behind her, placing his hand on the small of her back, and Rory had to hold back the bile that rose up her throat. Slipping a card from his pants pocket, he placed it to the security panel and it beeped allowing them access. The door opened wide, and the upstairs looked like something out of a Bond villain’s penthouse. All black marble polished to perfection and gold filigree, Roman columns and furniture that was far more plush than what was on the floor below. This was a room designed for the powerful to play and Rory’s gut wrenched at the thought of the things that might have happened up here before.  

He held out his hand, directing her in, and she stepped inside, her heels clicking on the marble floor. The faint chemical, clinical scent of bleach was in the air. Freshly cleaned . She had no interest in wanting to know why. Keeping her breathing controlled, she crossed the room to sit in one of the tufted leather couches, crossing her legs and stretching her arms out along the back, remaining the picture of grace, confidence and elegance – exactly the woman Igor Zorokov expected her to be. Rory’s eyes scanned the room, but just as had been in the plans, there was no sight of security measures in here. No cameras whatsoever. That didn’t help settle the growing pit in her gut at all. As the door shut behind him, the blond man looked at her as if she were prey. Locked in, with nowhere to go, her pupils dilated with aggression but to a man like Zorokov it would only mean the opposite. 

The Russian moved closer, striding towards her as he took a seat on the opposite side of the couch, the leather giving way to his weight. His fingers brushed over hers as his hand traveled over her wrist and up the length of her forearm resting against the back of the couch. 

“You are a very lovely woman.”

“You’re a charming man. I’m sure you’ve had your fair share,” she said, turning to tuck herself into the corner and face him. 

“I have only the most expensive taste.”

“That’s quite the compliment.”

“It is,” he hummed. 

He slid over towards her on the couch, sitting closer, leaning in towards her. Forcing herself to drag her eyes up to meet his, Rory looked up at him through a fan of dark lashes. His dark stare flicking from her chest to her lips, not bothering to meet her eyes at all. She found herself clenching her jaw, the sickening twist in her abdomen squeezing tighter. He was going to try and kiss her…she could feel it coming. A shuddering breath slipped from her, and she knew he’d read into it exactly the way he wanted to. Interest. Attraction. Arousal. The exact opposite of the disgust that grew inside her. 

Leaning further towards her, rubbing his hands along the curve of her neck, following it along as it met her shoulders, he tilted his head so his lips were just a hair away from her ear, breathing heavily into the earpiece that sat hidden below her dark brown tresses, whispering through gritted teeth in a sharp hiss, “Just how stupid do you think I am?”

Rory’s eyes widened, her breath hitching. Her body reflexively sent itself into survival mode, every muscle tensing, knowing it was time to fight. She slowly opened her clutch, not wanting to attract his attention as she carefully slipped her fingers into the opening and slid them into the grips of her brass knuckles. 

“Didn’t think I’d recognize you?”

Zorokov’s smile widened like a hungry animal, he had her exactly where he wanted her. Believing her cornered. Trapped. Just another woman in a cage for him. He might have recognized her, but he didn’t know just how savage she could be. Her will to live was stronger than the violence he most assuredly aimed to use against her. In that moment Price’s words echoed in her head: The world needs more wolves in it, Rory. Maybe it's about time you took that lambskin off. 

That time was now. 

[softtdaisy]

🌷 Andrew Garfield x female reader

My home by The Change

❤️❤️

_my home

andrew garfield x fem!reader

based on: my home by the change

summary: just Andrew realising you are his home

words: 499

a/n: pretty short one I hope you will love it 💛

join my secret garden for my 1k celebration 🌸

It’s been six months.

Six months since Andrew left home to shoot his new movie. Six months since you barely see each other except for weekends when you flyed to him. Six months that you both spent on empty beds with the other side remaining cold. Six months that you called each other every night to get some love.

And now he was coming back.

In the plane, all he could think about was the minute he was going to see you. The minute his eyes would land on you and how, for the first time in six months, he will feel at home.

He talked about it with his co-stars during the shooting. What makes you feel at home? Some said their home, simply. The smell of their home when they open the door. Some said the landscape, when they start to recognize the buildings, the shops or even the trees around their place. And some, like Andrew, said their loved ones.

You could be living here, in New York, in London or anywhere in the world it wouldn’t matter. Home was where you were. You were all Andrew needed to feel safe. No matter what was going on in his life, as long as you were by his side, he knew nothing could really happen to him. You were his other half.

So when Andrew finally arrived at your place and saw you, with the door opened, reading to jump in his arms. He knew he was home. “Hello love,” he said calmly before running to you while you were doing just the same. He caught you and hugged like he never did before. Maybe those six months helped him realize how much you were his safe place and how he could never, ever, let you go. “You look so beautiful” he whispered in your ear before you buried your face into his neck.

You spend the whole evening together. You started to cook Andrew’s favorite meal and he happily helped you. Those were the moments that mattered the most for him, the moments where he was Andy, just a random guy having fun with his girlfriend. Not the superstar. He could easily forget about his celebrity when he was with you.

“You’re my home,” Andrew told you once you were in bed together. You were cuddling under the cover, your leg over his. He was caressing your arm slowly while you were laying with your head on his chest. You looked at him with curious eyes. “You’re always there for me, in bad and good moments. You’re the only person that can make me happy like that.”

You leaned over him to kiss his mouth with softness. “I’m glad to know that. I hope I’m a beautiful house.” You laughed against his lips.

“The most beautiful one.” He replied, taking you in his arms a little more. You were his home.

And Andrew was finally ready to use the ring that was sleeping in his drawer.

[comphy-and-cozy]

writer asks!!! 🕯️🛼🍄

send me writer asks!

🕯️⇢ on a scale from 1 to 10, how much do you enjoy editing? why is that? generally between 6 and 8, depending on my mood and how the fic is going. I like reading through and finding better words, phrases, descriptions, etc. to convey the point and seeing the piece slowly start to come into its final form. but towards the end, like on the final few read-throughs it can get really tedious and at that point I'm usually kind of sick of reading the fic over and over again lol.

🛼 ⇢ describe your latest wip with five emojis 🧑🏻👩🏽👱🏼‍♂️💦🪽 why isn't there an eiffel tower emoji

🍄🍄 ⇢ share a head canon for one of your favourite ships or pairings okay this is not going to come as a surprise to anyone that i'm gonna write about a dream come true but this is something i've been wanting to incorporate and just haven't really found the place to do so yet so what better time than now

putting this below a cut!

as your relationship has developed from primarily physical into something more substantial (never just a booty call, though), your name has slowly trickled in to locker room talk

at first no one really knew enough to ask, save for dylan and andrew and shayne, who were there the night jt left with you—the only acknowledgement at practice afterward was a knowing smirk and a hearty pat on the back

but as time went on and he began to spend more time with you, little, sporadic mentions of you would filter into conversation

"comph, you going out later?" "nah, already have plans"

"who you texting?" "oh, just a friend"

until enough evidence had been gathered and it became all but spoken word: comphy had a girl.

he wasn't sure why, but he was hesitant to bring you around—not because he was ashamed of you, or unwilling to commit to you; in fact, it was quite the opposite, but he didn't want to scare you away by throwing you into something like that so quickly

so it started small: a double date with andrew and jenny, then a second with dylan and kenzy

and slowly, you met more and more of his circle—eventually attending your first wings event as his girl—and even began to form your own bonds and friendships with those around him

one of them, unexpectedly, is lucas raymond

several years your junior, it's an unlikely friendship, but you find a stride with him that feels so natural very early on

it started when jt asked you to meet him at the rink so he could take you to lunch after practice, and you ran into lucas trying to figure out where you were supposed to meet him

he introduced himself and explained jt was running late, deep in the throes of a conversation with newsy about the penalty kill

when jt finally made it down the corridor 30 minutes later, an apology waiting on his lips, he's quickly taken over by surprise at the sight of you and lucas laughing hysterically

soon, you're following each other on instagram and he's almost always the first person you greet at team events, offering girl advice and razzing him for being, well, a 21-year-old idiot

it progresses to the point where you find yourself paying more attention to him on the ice, too, #23 the second number you look for behind #37, elation filling your heart when he scores (even better when jt's involved)

and those times where he gets hit, knocked over, shoved into the boards, you're on your feet, heart frozen for the milliseconds before he stands up, brushes it off, and you breathe a sigh of relief

one time, the hit is particularly nasty, and before you have a chance to shriek, jt's there, his face contorted into rage, shoving the offender in defense of the young winger kneeling on the ice, getting into a nasty scrum that's inches away from a fight if not for the linesmen who interfered

needless to say, the emotions are high and later that night, and after some coaxing, jt manages to get it out of you—and realizes that you practically imprinted upon his teammate, maternally

his smile is slow, morphing into a grin, and you feel your cheeks go hot, ready to shove him for making fun of you

but instead, he says, "did we just adopt a kid together?"

[heliads]

Andrew!Peter x male reader… reader and Peter have been best friends since childhood and the reader always had a crush on Peter. But Peter got with Gwen and after she died reader was there to comfort him and Peter would make a move on reader which would cause the reader to blow up on him cause he thinks he just wants to distract himself from loosing Gwen but it turns out he does really like the reader 🤭😗 (there’s more coming)

back to back fics for the sole purpose of making sure they come out on odd numbered days

masterlist

Peter Parker has been quiet as of late. He has been quiet for quite some time now, ever since Gwen died, but this is something else. You’ve long since learned to cope with Peter’s silence, how to tell the shifting of his emotions from the barest of sighs or nonverbal cues, and today is no exception.

It’s not hard to learn it, you know. It’s not hard to see Peter as someone who needs saving, or at least someone trying to run himself into the ground in an attempt to make penance for the fact that he failed Gwen twice:  once in killing her father, once in killing her. No matter how many times you tell him that neither of the recent deaths in the Stacy family are truly Peter’s fault, he won’t pay attention. Peter bears the weight of his grief in full, calling it responsibility and duty and obligation, anything to keep it around that much longer.

That’s what Peter is afraid of most, you think. He’s terrified that he’ll wake up one day and be alright. If Gwen can’t do that, why should he? Peter will bind himself to his grief until the end of time if you’d let him, and never have a life outside of it.

You don’t let him, though. You understand that he needs to mourn, you all do– you can’t throw a stone down one of the shifting streets of New York City without hitting someone that’s been affected by Gwen Stacy in some way. Her work in science, her easy laughter, her kind spirits, they’ve all been parceled out to somebody or other throughout the years. You don’t know that you’ve seen a funeral with such a massive attendance in quite some time.

What Peter is doing to himself is different from the normal sort of mourning. You know what it’s like to grieve Gwen– if it didn’t kill you, hearing about her death for the first time, it certainly felt like that. Soon enough, however, the worst of the despair started to leave you. It takes a shorter amount of time than you would think. You swear to yourself that this loss will never be anything but constant, but it isn’t. At some point, you realize that you’ve gone a few days, a few weeks, without locking yourself into a trance of hurt and nothing more. At some point, you start to move on.

Peter hasn’t. He visits Gwen’s grave almost every day, leaving flowers that join the other bouquets in piling up in mountains of pink and white and red. He always comes to school with his hands smelling that same sickly sweet of rotting petals to let you know where he’d been in the morning, how his nightmares of that one time he couldn’t save the person he cared most about have haunted him to the point of having to visit the cemetery as soon as he could.

You’ve tried to talk him through it. You’ve lost track of the amount of times you’ve shown up at the Parker household with food or movies or something, anything to help take Peter’s mind off of how it felt to descend to the base of that ruined clock tower and realize that he hadn’t done it, he hadn’t saved her. Peter has told you the story of that awful discovery so many times that you almost think that you must have been there for it yourself instead of just hearing it through word of mouth.

May Parker is grateful for your presence, you can tell that. Peter’s grateful too, even if he refuses to admit it to himself. During the first few weeks, he would hardly say a word, just sit there beside you staring out into nothingness. He came back slowly, though, slowly but surely into someone whose only words were about. Gwen, and only Gwen.

If you were feeling particularly selfish, you would admit to yourself that you hate it. You are Peter Parker’s oldest friend, the one who’s stuck with him through everything. Back when you and Peter were just two boys in grade school, when kindergarten hide and seek partners on the playground were the only sure sign of a camaraderie that would last more than a week, you swore you’d never leave him. Best friends forever does have a certain ring to it, doesn’t it?

You haven’t given up on that promise, either. There’s another reason for it too, you know. This isn’t just you being a truly excellent friend, why you’re here for Peter day in and day out. No, you’re worse than that. Peter has always been the saint. You’re just the one in his shadow, watching as the sun casts a halo around his head and leaves you staring hopelessly after him.

You don’t entirely remember when you fell in love with Peter. There’s a year you associate with it– eighth grade, certainly, if not earlier– but no specific time. Some part of you thinks that you should be able to nail it down to the date, that you should have had some moment of great and terrible gravity when you looked up and just knew it, but you don’t. At one point in your life, you were content with just friendship. Seasons later, you weren’t.

Peter doesn’t know, of course, but if he does he’s kind enough to pretend he doesn’t notice. It’s hard not to love Peter. He gives you reasons for it every day. Still, Peter has loved Gwen Stacy for even longer than you’ve loved him. You knew that he would be able to get with her at some point, just like you knew that losing her would end him. You can’t possibly think that he would ever look at you now that he’s forced to live without his one great love, but for some reason your foolish heart still keeps beating, conjuring up fantasies in which he finally realizes.

Obviously, it’s not going to happen. You learned a long time ago to content yourself with quiet moments when you’re thinking of everything the two of you could have had while Peter had no idea. You’re going to go about your life and perhaps even to your grave while harboring this all encompassing secret, and that is okay. You have no choice but to make it okay.

On days like this, though, when you knock on Peter’s door for yet another check in, you find yourself wishing in spite of yourself that maybe this wouldn’t be the case. Peter answers within about half a second, leaning against the doorframe as he gestures for you to come inside. Even after you plunk your backpack down into a corner of the room that’s been unofficially dubbed yours after the months you’ve spent dropping in, Peter stays there, still looking at you. Arms folded across his chest, Peter just stares. As someone who’s done their fair share of hopeless thinking, you know how to recognize a lost cause when you see it.

You jerk your chin towards him. “Everything good?”

Peter lifts a shoulder absentmindedly. “Just as good as ever.”

It’s a lie, of course. Peter Parker has not been good since Gwen died. He had been doing better, though, in inches clawed back from rock bottom. He’d almost gotten to a point in which you thought he could get out of this, then something happened in the last few weeks. All of a sudden, Peter was quiet again, like he was testing out the truth in a mental laboratory with a procedure only he could understand. Just like that, you weren’t privy to his innermost thoughts again. You can freely admit that it hurts– after all this, surely you don’t deserve to be cut out of his mind once more?

What you want doesn’t matter in the end. If this is what it takes to make Peter feel better, you’d do anything to keep his spirits up. You accepted that a long time ago.

Peter starts moving at last, slinging an arm around your shoulder as he heads towards his room. “Let’s do something fun.”

You arch a brow. “Fun?”

“Yeah,” Peter says, “fun. I think we both deserve that.”

You’re certainly not going to deny that, but it is a little out of character. Peter hasn’t been in the mood for fun in what could be months. If he wants to start acting as he had before the accident, though, who are you to stop him?

You make eye contact with his aunt May as the two of you cross through the kitchen. She’s sitting by herself at the table, a mug of tea held in her hand as she eyes the day’s newspaper. You do your best to send her a quizzical look, but even though you’ve long since mastered telepathy with May Parker when it comes to concerns about Peter, she seems just as at a loss for explanations as you are.

That leaves only Peter to clarify whatever is going on with him. You can sense some sort of reasoning hovering on the tip of his tongue, weighing down Peter’s normal restless chatter with the burden of not knowing how to quite put his thoughts into words.

Peter’s idea of fun ends up being channel surfing until you find something interesting. It’s an activity that the two of you have enjoyed for years now. No entertainment could ever match up to the sheer thrill of skipping to some random show and teasing it mercilessly until you run out of complaints and have to move to the next channel. Cruelty never tasted so sweet as when you make Peter laugh so hard he almost cries from insulting some poor woman’s cooking show.

Raising a hand to wipe the beginnings of tears from his eyes, Peter stills. The two of you are sitting side by side on the edge of his bed, crowded together to avoid falling off. You’ve done this a thousand times and you’ve been the only one to ever overthink it, but now you swear that Peter might be joining you in that camp. The sun is in his eyes as he looks at you, tinting the brown of his gaze into a gold that even kings would covet.

Peter leans forward slowly, tentatively. Only when he’s barely an inch away from you and his eyelashes flutter shut, at last releasing you from that immobilizing power of his stare, are you able to come to your senses and jerk away.

Peter looks hurt. It makes no sense, of course, because Peter reacts like you’ve rejected him and that can’t be so, because Peter Parker would never do something like try to kiss you, not in a million years.

The words rise to your tongue, excuses and defenses to clear you away from whatever this is, the raw ache in Peter’s eyes that cuts you as surely as it does him.

“This isn’t right.”

Peter shakes his head. “Why not?”

You pause for a moment, incredulous, before you manage to continue. “Because it isn’t, that’s why. We’re friends.”

“Just friends?” Peter asks slowly, “have you really believed that all this time?”

It’s your turn to be at a total loss for words. At last, you manage to get yourself together long enough to continue.

“No. No, I’m not going to do this. Let me tell you what you’re trying to do here, because it’s not love me.”

Peter scoffs. “What, because you know me so well that you can read my mind?”

“Yes, Peter,” you say exhaustedly, “when have I not?”

Peter looks away. “If you know me that well, you’d know that I do love you. I have for a while, and–”

You cut him off, unable to entertain another of those terrible syllables. It’s exactly what you’ve wanted to hear for so long, yet now that it’s actually upon you, you cannot allow it to exist.

“No, you don’t. You’re reeling from Gwen and you’re looking for someone to make you feel better. I’m not doing this.”

Peter blinks dazedly up at you. “You don’t love me back?”

You sigh. “Of course I love you, Peter, that’s not the point. I just deserve better than this, that’s all. I have loved you for so long that I’ve let it consume me, yes, but I want somebody who actually loves me for who I am rather than because they’re so lonely that they’d convince themselves they could love me. You don’t love me, Peter. You never have. You just like that I love you, and you’re sure that’s better than feeling nothing again.”

Peter flinches. “That’s not true,” he begins.

“Yes, it is,” you argue, “you have been miserable for months. I’ve watched it happen. You’re wonderful with words. You could talk yourself into thinking that you loved me if you thought it would make you feel better. I want you to have the world, but I want you loving me to be real. Don’t break my heart like this.”

You stand, ready to leave and clear your head. Peter jumps up after you, flinging himself between you and the door.

“Wait,” he says, “hear me out. I have loved you, I swear it. I just didn’t know how to put it into words. I mean, Gwen was dead and all I could think about was you. Doesn’t that make me a terrible person?”

He takes a shaky breath. “Do you think that if I hadn’t loved you then, if I had loved only Gwen and no one else, I could have saved her? Maybe I would have been faster. It would have mattered more. Do you think it would have been different?”

At last, you understand. There’s a reason Peter has been beating himself up so badly over Gwen’s death. It’s not just because he loved her, it’s because he’s certain he’s to blame just as much as that deathly fall for snapping her neck. Peter has been caught up in enough guilt to kill any lesser man. It’s a miracle he survived it.

You take a slow breath. “It’s true, then?”

Peter nods solemnly. “All of it.”

The two of you stand there for a moment, the weight of that awful truth wrapping around you, and then you give in at last. You don’t kiss Peter, not yet. Not today. Both of you are still too fragile for such a thing. Instead, you pull him close in an embrace you’ve been wanting to give him for quite some time. He smells like he always has, like the boy you knew before Gwen died and his entire life fell out of control. Wood smoke and a sharp winter breeze. The same sweater he wears every fall without fail. Honey in your tea.

All yours, all familiar. Peter will never forgive himself, not entirely. No one in that position could. He knows what you know, though, which is that he has the means of healing. You’ve seen trees that grow around fences or bits of metal, enclosing those painful pieces within themselves to keep on going. Peter is capable of such a future, all because he knows he has something to grow towards. You, his sun. His reason to look ahead. No one has ever needed someone more.

marvel tag list: @namoreno, @thatfangirl42, @rogueanschel, @mycosmicparadise, @ellobruv, @caswinchester2000, @with-inked-solace, @sher-lok7d, @amortensie, @23victoria, @watchreadfangirlrepeat, @gods-fools-heroes, @w1shes43

[weird-kid-maxx]

A Lifeguard's Loyalty (Bondi Rescue)

Third Person POV

Once a member of the notorious Bra Boys, Jesse had finally decided to turn his back on the gang and start a new life. Little did he know that leaving the Bra Boys would come at a high cost.

It was a sunny afternoon at Bondi Beach, with the waves crashing against the shore and the moon turning the sand silver. It was five in the morning, and Jesse was opening. Jesse, now a full-time lifeguard, was about to start his shift at the lifeguard tower. As he approached the tower door, he sensed an eerie presence behind him.

Before he could react, three angry Bra Boys surrounded him, their faces contorted with rage. One was Koby Abberton's brother, Jai. Another was a kid named Andrew, and the other a 23 year old kid named Jordan. Jesse's heart raced as he realized the consequences of his decision. The gang members unleashed their fury upon him, leaving him beaten and bloodied right in front of the lifeguard tower door. They didn't stop until his blood was pooling over the cement, his eyesight fading, and his breath rattling in his chest, and they fled, not looking back and laughing, "That's what blood traitors get!"

As Jesse lay on the ground, struggling to regain his composure, it was Singlets, his fellow lifeguard and friend, who discovered him. Singlets gasped in shock, his worry for Jesse evident in his eyes. Without hesitation, he scooped Jesse up and rushed him to the nearest emergency room. "Shit, shit, shit," He kept repeating, scrambling for the phone as he took a sharp turn, hearing Jesse whine. "Hello?" Hoppo asked. "Emergency, Jesse's out, someone attacked him. I'm taking him to the ER." "What? Shit, I'll gave Reidy and Mouse open, then, and meet you there." Hoppo hung up.

Time Skip...

Singlets' heart pounded with fear as he watched the medical team attend to Jesse's injuries. He couldn't bear to see his young team member in such a state. Thoughts of revenge against the Bra Boys (because really, who else would it be? Everyone loved Jesse) filled his mind, but he knew that Jesse's well-being was the priority.

Hours passed, and the medical team worked tirelessly to mend Jesse's wounds. Singlets never left his side (when allowed to stay, anyway), providing comfort and support throughout the ordeal. As the night wore on, Jesse slowly regained consciousness, his battered body a testament to the price he had paid for leaving the Bra Boys.

The first time he woke up, it was only six=thirty and still dark outside. Hoppo was at his bedside, reading a thick book, and Jesse felt safe enough to drift off. When he woke up again, it was around noon, he guessed, and Harrison and Maxi were sitting in chairs, facing each other with a tiny table between them, playing cards. "Shit." Harrison sighed, making Maxi giggle.

The third and final time Jesse woke up, he saw Mouse in the hall, talking to the doctor, and Jethro and Joel on the small couch, fast asleep. Or, he thought they were, until Joel glanced up, dark eyes shining in the minimal light, and smiled, gently easing from under Jethro's legs and sitting beside Jesse. "Hey, how you feel?" He asked, and Jesse didn't reply, just grabbed his hand, eyes fluttering shut. He heard Joel whisper, "Okay, I'll stay right here."

In that moment, Jesse realized the true value of loyalty and friendship. Singlets' unwavering dedication had saved him from a fate worse than he could have imagined. Maxi and Harrison had come to visit, knowing Jesse didn't really like hospitals. Hoppo cared, Mouse cared. The team cared.

Plus, Joel let Jesse hold his hand. That was an upside for sure.

From that day forward, Jesse vowed to leave his past behind and embrace the new family he had found among the lifeguards of Bondi Beach.

[pretensesoup]

Queer books, day 26/30

Oh boy okay hot off the presses with this one, here we go.

Nick and Andy are newspaper reporters in 1958 New York. The historical writing here is GORGEOUS, I just want to say. There are beatniks, there's Brooklyn, there's uptown. It's a richly imagined place and I feel like I could walk around in it. But okay, Nick and Andy meet at the newspaper and become best friends.

Nick is gay and very invested in hiding that fact from absolutely everyone else--he won't even talk to another gay man who works at the paper. He has good reason to be this way, having once been picked up on "vagrancy" charges (i.e. having gay sex in public) and having to have his older brother (who is a cop) bail him out. Nick doesn't like his older brother and he is deeply, deeply worried that everyone he loves will hate him if they find out he's gay, so he just keeps it quiet and lives this bifurcated life.

Andy, on the other hand, is the son of the paper's owner/publisher who is working as a reporter to gain experience before taking over. He's also a giant pile of abandonment issues and anxiety. He starts the novel ostensibly straight. After his fiancée leaves him (her name is Emily! and she's actually not a terrible person, so I forgive this), he moves in with Nick because he kind of hates being alone. And eventually, between reading the Village Voice and going to Some Like It Hot and Nick making him soup and a lot of self-examination, Andy realizes that he's actually bisexual, and what he really wants is…Nick.

A lot of this novel is about homophobia, surveillance, and coming out. Sometimes, coming out means telling friends about your desires, and sometimes, coming out is coming out to yourself. Admitting that you have been making specific choices that made your life easier, when maybe there were other choices that might make you happier. (Wow, that didn't strike a chord with me and my recent life at all, geez.)

Interestingly, for all the discussion of homophobia (and there is a lot, it's kind of a bummer), almost everything we see is related to self-surveillance. Yes, Nick talks about having been arrested and his fears of losing his job, but he doesn't really experience any negative repercussions during the story from any of the things he's afraid of (there are threats but no follow-through). It's also clear how limiting this anxiety is for him—how even when he is surrounded by Andy, Andy's father (who knows they're together), and his own nephew (who he just came out to), he still feels the need to come up with a work-related excuse to talk to Andy. And, like, that's realistic, but also a little heartbreaking, in among how sweet this book is, that Nick can't see his way through this forest. But he gets slowly better as the book goes along, and it seems like maybe, someday, he's going to get there. And for the time being, we wind up with characters who are both out in specific ways and respect each other's boundaries on that, which is nice.

To parallel this self-surveillance theme, there's also a plot about police surveillance and corruption. Just to remind you that ACAB. Even Nick's brother, who is at least trying to be decent to his son and even to Nick, is still kind of a bastard.

Key quote:

"Do you have a copy of Phaedrus?" he calls out. "Do I have a what?" "Plato's Phaedrus." "Oh yeah. Sure, it's right over by the-- No, I fucking don't have any Plato in my apartment, for fuck's sake, Andrew."

This book has non-explicit open-door sex scenes (really, they're sweet but tame). It also contains period-typical homophobia and reference to child abuse (off page and not explicit). It's also incredibly sweet and hopeful and funny. 10/10, go read it.

[upindreamland]

Mother’s Day - Jonah Marais

Jonah Marais x fem!reader (she/her pronouns) oneshot

Summary: Husband!Jonah and your kids surprise you on Mother’s Day. What I imagine Mother’s Day with him would be like (fluff)

Warnings: Cursing (not really). Fluff and Jonah being really in love. (Let me know if I missed anything)

Y/C/E: Your color eyes Y/F/M: Your favorite movie

Italics: Flashback

AN: MY SECOND POST!!! When you’re done reading come and talk to me if you want!! Please enjoy!

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Jonah’s POV

Waking up next to my beautiful sleeping wife, I can’t help but smile. It only grows bigger when I realize what today is. It’s Saturday and today’s Mother’s Day. Y/N and I have four kids together and another one on the way. Our oldest Benjamin, or Ben, is seven years old. Next is Andrew who is five years old. The two youngest kids are twins Hayden and Amanda. They are only one years old. The little pea my wife is carrying has only been there for six weeks.

When I first met Y/N, I knew she was the one. We met at a movie theater. I was walking out of the bathroom looking for my band mates when I ran into something, better yet, someone. Popcorn flew all around us, and when I looked up, I swear my heart stopped for a second. Y/N was the most gorgeous woman I have ever seen. I could get lost in her Y/C/E eyes if given the chance.

When I snapped out of my gaze, I started to apologize. Smiling, she told me that it was alright.

“It’s alright, it’s not like everyday I bump into a handsome stranger.”

Blushing, I quickly responded with:

“You’re right. I can’t believe I just ran into a literal goddess. You know what would make this even better?” I say gathering up courage to ask for her phone number.

“No… what is it?” She asked, eyeing me slightly.

“Your phone number….”

Needless to say, it worked out perfectly. I asked her out, and six years later we got married. Now we have this incredible family.

Quickly getting out of bed, but making sure I didn’t wake up Y/N, I walked over to each of our children’s rooms. Waking them up with the same phrase:

“Wake up bubs, we have to go make mama’s breakfast. It’s Mother’s Day.”

Going downstairs, I strap the twins into their seats so they can watch me and their big brothers work. Halfway through making Y/N’s favorite breakfast meal, I get a text. Before I even see the screen I know it’s my wife.

After finishing up Y/N’s breakfast and putting it on a tray for breakfast in bed, I go to grab her gift. I also tell the kids to get their presents for her. When we have everything we need, we head upstairs. Like I told her to do, Y/N is asleep snuggling my pillow. Softly shaking her, her eyes start to open.

Y/N’s POV

Feeling someone softly shake me, I slowly open my eyes. In front of me are my three boys, daughter, and husband. A smile quickly appears on my face. Sitting up and leaning against the headboard I ask:

“Hello my loves. What is all of this?”

They all break into a smile. As if they’re one person, they say in sync:

“Happy Mother’s Day!”

Jonah’s POV

Seeing Y/N’s eyes light up when she looks at us, makes my heart swell. She loves all of us so much and will do anything for us.

Walking over to her, I put the tray of food on her lap.

“We made you your favorite breakfast and we each have gifts to give you after we watch a movie together while you eat.” I inform her. Leaning over to kiss her, I can’t help but smile. After all of these years her kisses still make me have butterflies in my stomach.

She nods and I beckon the kids over to the bed. Putting on Y/F/M, we all snuggle together while she eats her breakfast.

*after the movie is done*

“Alright kids let’s give momma her presents. Like always, the youngest goes first.” I excitedly tell our kids.

Amanda gives Y/N a little drawing with her handprints that she probably did at school.

Hayden gives her a rock that has a face, clothes and hair.

Andrew gives Y/N a tiny jar with positive words that describe her.

Ben gives her a photo album full of his favorite images.

After each gift, Y/N gives each kid a kiss on the cheek. Thanking them, she pulls them into a group hug. Squealing they hug back. When they let go she turns to me.

“And what about you mister?” She teasingly asks.

Laughing, I pick up a basket full of things Y/N loves. Giving it to her, I wonder how it’s even possible that her smile gets bigger. Looking through everything, she puts the gift with the other ones and pulls me in for a kiss. It’s passionate and lovely until we have to pull away hearing our kids fake gagging. Y/N not being able to hold in her giggle let’s it out.

“Sorry kiddos. I just love your daddy very much. Thank you for such an amazing surprise.” She exclaims happily.

“Oh there’s more to come honey. It’s only the morning. Come on let’s go get ready so we can go to the next surprise.”

The expression on her face makes me chuckle. I couldn’t be happier with my wife and kids. This is exactly how I want to spend the rest of my life. I can’t describe the emotion I’m feeling, but I know I love my family so fucking much.

Instagram

jonahmarais

Liked by yourinstagram, corbynbesson, jackaverymusic, imzachherron, seaveydaniel, jonah_yn_lover, and 95,786 others

jonahmarais: Happy Mother's Day to Y/N and all of the amazing mothers out there. All you mothers are such incredible and strong women. Y/N thank you so much for giving me such a wonderful family. I couldn't ask for anything better. I love you so much. Hope you all have a great day!

tagged: yourinstagram

view all comments

yourinstagram: Thank you so much baby! I love you. You are the best husband ever!

corbynbesson: Awww, you guys are so cute. Happy Mother’s Day Y/N!!

jonah_yn_lover: Ahhhhh!!! Omg the content we fucking deserve. Did Amanda make this? Y'all are just so cute.

↳ yourinstagram: jonah_yn_lover yes she did! I think she made it at school

seaveydaniel: You're making me want to have a child of my own. I don't know how you guys handle four and one more coming 😫

jackaverymusic: Lav misses you guys. Especially Amanda. Btw Lav says hi. She literally started smiling when I showed her this post

↳ yourinstagram: jackaverymusic AWWWW Amanda says hi too ☺️

imzachherron: HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY BEST FRIEND!!! Okay sorry for yelling. I'm just very excited for no reason at all.

_limelight_fan: Ahh it's so weird to see Jonah as a dad of almost five. He was just a little baby a couple of years ago. I'm going to cry

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yourinstagram

Liked by jonahmarais, imzachherron, seaveydaniel, corbynbesson, jackaverymusic, _limelight_fan, and 85,466 others

yourinstagram: I have such a wonderful family. Thank you to Jonah and my kids for making this day extra special. Thanks all of you for the wishes. I got some amazing gifts from my four children and husband. This is just one of them Love you all!

tagged: jonahmarais

view all comments

jonah_yn_lover: I'm so jealous. You have such a great family. I love you both so much. Have a great day Y/N.

jonahmarais: I love you too baby. It's the least that I can do to thank you for pushing four kids out of you and one more to come.

imzachherron: Those are some pretty flowers… but not as cute as my niece and nephews

seaveydaniel: Y/N can I come over and play with my niece and nephews? I also want to wish you a happy Mother's Day in person.

↳ yourinstagram: seaveydaniel of course. They want to see you too.

↳ jackaverymusic: yourinstagram seaveydaniel I'm coming too. Daniel might need some help watching them. Plus they're all so cute and squishable.

↳ _limelight_fan: seaveydaniel I love how cute and supportive the boys comments are. Hope you have a wonderful Mother's Day today Y/N. You deserve it.

corbynbesson: Dang it Jonah you beat me. I wanted to comment before you did. Oh never mind. All I can see is flowers but I can feel the love through the screen. Love you both.

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AN: THE END!! I hope you enjoyed. If you can’t tell I have a little bit of an obsession with fake Instagram posts lol. More posts to come. If you have any requests feel free to let me know!! Have a great day.

-Kara (upindreamland)

[axellis-archv-2]

confession, hugs, and love letters for ANDREW CHRIST

sorry in advance if this starts bleeding into nortdrew kin shenanigans its not my fault donnie i hope the wizard weed makes you a master linguist when you answer MY ask

confession — how’d the confession happen, and looking back on it, what are your (and f/o’s) thoughts abt how you both were back then?

jeeesus christ. like jesus christ. no pun intended when i say this but andrew would take his feelings to the grave than actually say anything so itd have to be genuinely life-or-death that anything got said. likeim talking hes about to be launched and im trying to save him kind of life-or-death. hes slowly bleeding out life-or-death. im cradling his face and hes hiccuping and sobbing because despite how much hes been told that he doesnt deserve to live and how much he thinks he believes it he doesnt want to die kind of life-or-death.

so when he inevitably breathes in again and realizes hes alive and back at the manor again and he confessed his love hes like. okay. im going to pretend this never happened. and i Will Not Let Him. i am actively gripping at his wrists as hes trying to walk away from me and im telling him "please listen to me." and hes not looking at me because he'll start crying again if he does but also he's not actively bolting so he wants to stay? hopefully? and im like fumbling my words trying to tell him that i wouldnt be trying to acknowledge what he said if i didnt also feel the same. that i didnt also love him.

i think afterwards i dont even know if hed like. i think sometimes he'll have moments where he thinks he made up that whole confession and he's somehow conning me into liking him but it washes away the moment i unprompted go and give him a little kissy. i think my only 'regret' so to speak is i wish the confession wasn't soo like. sad . i wouldve wanted a celebration. i almost typed fireworks and then deleted that so you can imagine the norton is kicking in

hugs — are you and f/o affectionate / open about your relationship in public?

ohhrhhghh god we got another person who holds pinkies but this time i think its because andrew gets pretty overwhelmed easily which doesnt help that im #goldenretreivermode sometimes on him so i like tackle hug him and kiss him bunches and he just kind of freezes. he doesnt HATE it or anything he just responds like that . i think theres definitely a couple times where he asks very quietly if he can kiss and i always say yes and half of the time he asks if i can close my eyes because "i can't handle the way you look at me like that" .

but once he kind of warms up and gets used to just...someone actively wanting to be physically affectionate i think he really really really really loves hugs. a good strong hug has him melting and gripping back like hes worried im going to get swept away in the wind. and it becomes something he actively starts seeking out way more and (!!!!!!) eventually its something he just kind of does. not really necessarily a hug but he does like wrap himself around one of my arms a lot of the time. especially when he asks for kisses.

but as for publicity. he would sooner die than have someone witnessing a very private and intimate moment like that. at MOST in public is a very tender hug after a tough match, especially if he really really needs it. but everything else is in the comfort of our own shared space

love letters — are they good at expressing how they feel? what’s their best way of letting you know they love you?

short answer: NAUR

long answer: hes really bad at getting to sort of the root of how he feels. he tends to layer everything he says with a sense of "but only if you feel the same and i understand if you dont, im a monster" so thankfully im kind of already aware that he does, in fact, love me.

his best way of actually relaying how he feels is moreso his actions, which is sooo its something considering hes really shy and cant even really bring himself to kiss but i guess i mean more like what he does outside of physical affection. i truly think his love language is acts of service and it kills me every time. :AGONY:

he lets you vent out frustrations, bodyblocking attacks to make sure youre safe, sewing things....the sewing especially gets me i think he likes doing it a lot and its one thing you especially notice when he starts taking a shine to you. i could assume a shirt is ruined for good only to find the next day its in pristine condition neatly folded in a little basket that has some bread because hes noticed i hadnt left to go to the eating hall in a while.

[ruminate88]

No One Told Me

I never knew what a Narcissistic Personality was, never knew someone could be manipulative. I had heard a few horror stories growing up of some guys either having controlling moms or wives but I always believed I’d be smart enough when it came to dating…. I was quite the opposite though. Growing up in an extremely empathetic home where I was the family care taker and I ALWAYS put other’s needs before my own, it was only natural to date a narcissist and I had NO IDEA!

Worse, I never knew what trauma bond was and that when you connect with a narcissist, you’re the one obsessed and attached with them but they’re not attached to you at all. Oh they’re obsessed with you for a quick moment but it’s fleeting and they’re moved on while you’re stuck believing you’re in this loving relationship with them but as they start to act weird with you, you get nervous and therefore, you only try to love them harder…… I made the mistake of continuing to shower my ex, Andrew with so much love and attention, trying to impress him and make him pay me attention. After the love bomb phase, it was just so confusing, the way he turned so cold that I just pushed and pushed, continuing to work so hard to get back that person I saw in the love bomb phase, but that person could never ever come back!!!

The break up with Andrew, was not only super confusing, but my heart was very broken and I was suicidal and depressed for months! It did NOT make sense why somebody would say they do not want to break up with me over and over but yet, when I break up with them, they’re not even upset or have any emotions towards me and not only that, they already have a new girlfriend so fast, which I did not realize they don’t go for someone better, they go for someone weaker but in my eyes at the time I did not think they were going for someone weaker… I felt like they were going for someone prettier, and it really tore me up and made me super jealous of her and I didn’t even know her or her story! Nor do I know what Andrew told her about me, if anything he might have not even told her I exist … she may have thought she was the only girl in his life just like I thought that prior to her!! 🥺 I went from thinking I’m his whole focus to does he even remember my name?!!

I was so incredibly hurt by Andrew and the pain was overwhelmingly poisoning. I HAD to get away from him which was very hard to do and when I did, I found myself just desperate to move on and get over him. I met my husband and married him quickly! I was only trying to push away my feelings and pain for Andrew BUT I didn’t understand what even happened. I didn’t know what narcissism was or trauma bond. After I got married, I’ve found its VERY difficult not to think of Andrew alllllllll the time. I tried to ignore it so many times and it’s gotten worse! I was confused to what happened but afraid to talk about it with my new husband because he would be hurt and jealous to hear I’m still thinking of my ex. I prayed and prayed for answers to what’s going on and BAM! One night I saw a random video on TikTok explaining what narcissism is and wow…. It hit me like a ton of bricks!!!! I quickly knew then Andrew and Cody and Jake were all narcissists and they all lied and manipulated me to use me. It made so much sense and I began to slowly put pieces together. It’s now been a little over a year that I’ve been learning about narcissistic abuse and what happened to me.

Knowing doesn’t fix what happened, doesn’t change anything, nor does it break the mental attachment my brain has towards Andrew. My brain simply can not accept what happened and my heart continues to break whenever I think of Andrew yet I’ve never been able to stop. Since I first met Andrew, I was totally obsessed with him in a bad way and it’s only gotten worse. It’s not love, it’s this creepy attachment that I can’t escape.

So not too long ago, I was really praying hard to break this strong-hold Andrew has had on my mind, as if I’m his prisoner and I felt so good about it too. I went home with a clear head but when I slept, I had the most sad dream of him!!! I dreamed first he’s sitting with me on a couch asking to make out with me and I felt a rush but then I dream he’s giving me all these “gifts” that he claims his mom helped him pick out but when he lays them all out on a table, it’s nothing but a bunch of random little items, looked like little Russian dolls(the kind you stack) or something…. And the rest I couldn’t identify!!! It was random and weird but I was thinking in the dream “Why is he giving me so much stuff??” And I’m showing someone in the dream and they’re saying “Oh he must care about you some or why else would he give you all this stuff??” Then I dream I’m sitting with Andrew on another couch at some random family’s house neither of us know them, it’s Christmas time and I see a Christmas tree against the wall. Andrew had what looked like a possible wedding ring in his hand and this random family in dream thinks he’s proposing to me, they’re congratulating me and I’m super excited BUT then Andrew looks at me and says, “oh no, I’m so sorry…. I didn’t mean to make you think I was proposing to you but you do know I think of us as just good friends.” And I’m thinking in the dream “but what about us making out and all the gifts you gave me??” THEN I dream I’m on this random family’s staircase, crying my eyes out with my face in my arms!!!! It was soo sad and I dreamt Andrew walked up and stood there awhile just watching me cry but never asked if I was okay or said anything to me, just stood there and I was thinking in my head, “Why doesn’t he care about me at all? How can he just watch me cry???” Then Andrew walked off and the wife of the random family came over to me to see if I was ok….. THEN I WOKE UP!!! I felt very VERY sad and felt like I’m still very trapped forever thinking about Andrew. Whenever I try to stop, I just think of him more!!!! I see his face constantly day and night! I pray for him but it doesn’t change.

I know you have to grieve the loss of the narcissist because the image they showed you during the “love bomb phase” is false. You don’t really know who they are and your brain is so confused. I’ve tried so hard to really grieve Andrew and then let it all go but some days it feels very difficult. I don’t hate Andrew but yet I get angry towards him. He made me feel so stupid!!!! Also I don’t talk about it all with anyone because who is going to understand me?? That’s partly the reason I started this account and started writing down my story. I’m trying to understand it all!!! 🤔

[sodascherrycola]

Full Name: Taylor Ellerson Wood (nee Retting) DOB: September 12th 1976 Age: 47 years old Parents: Archibald and Ruby Retting Siblings: Only Child Blood Status: Half-Blood House: Gryffindor Married: November 13th 2000 (24 years old) Children: Beckham, Callum, Mackenzie, Andrew, and Ariana

Appearance: - Light Brown Hair - Green Eyes - Full Lips and Covered in Freckles - Very classy and Long Lashes

Nicknames: - Tay - Mo Ghràdh (My Love) - Leannan (Lover / Sweetheart)

Job: Stay at Home Mother

Personality: Taylor is a very nurturing woman, loves her children and builds her life around them. When she and Oliver were broken up is when she realized that all she wanted in life was to be a mother. That's why when they eventually got back together, Beckham was born 9 months later. She has always taken her children's friends under her wing and was a mother figure to the ones with no mother at all.

Special Talent: She is an excellent seamstress. When her and Oliver were in Fourth Year he had ripped his robe during practice and was going to throw it out and she had taken the opportunity to fix herself. She knew that she could easily just use her magic to make it brand new, but her mother had been a muggle and taught her how to sew. She didn't have a lot of things to show off, but she knew how to sew, so any chance she could she would. When her and Oliver were in Sixth year, they were making out and he had torn her shirt to practically shreds. He felt terrible, offered to pay for a new one, but she stopped him. Taylor had reminded him of that day in the Fourth year and sewed it right up.

Relationship: Taylor and Oliver met in 1988 when they were 12 years old. They slowly became best friends and were seen everywhere together. She was never interested in Quidditch but was at every single game to support him. When they were 16, Oliver had gotten into a terrible accident during a game and was left in the Hospital Wing for 2 weeks. Taylor had visited every day even when he was asleep or unresponsive. When he woke up she was there and sobbed into his arms. That was the day she had confessed her love for him. In 1995 a year after they had graduated, they broke up. It was mutual, however neither really wanted to. He had just started playing professionally and was stressed out and never home. This put a strain on their relationship, but they pushed through and got back together in 1998. Like previously mentioned, the break up let them think about their futures and what they truly wanted in life. They had both thought about starting a family, though with war going on it wasn't ideal. When Taylor had found out she was pregnant with Beckham she cried to Oliver's mums about it. She didn't know what to do. Oliver was thrilled though, and they managed to raise 5 lovely children together. Many people were jealous of her relationship with Oliver. She got to live a lavish life due to her husband being a famous quidditch star, and they always seemed more in love as the days go on. No one knows how they do it, but they do.