#fuck i wish tumblr told us on laptop when we run out of tags because i just lost like 4 of them. good thing i got screenies those were FUNN

[ao3-sucks]

An Archive of Someone’s Own: my experiences being groomed in fandom circles on AO3

TW: Childhood sexual abuse, grooming, mentions of incest and rape.

I used to be a big writer of fanfiction. It was the logical choice for me. I loved to write and create bold and immersive worlds, and I craved an audience who would enjoy my work as much as I did. Since my writing wasn’t actually good, I needed a community of other amateurs who wouldn’t mind that, and by tweaking my characters and settings into ones from canonical media, I got the audience I so craved.

I started writing fanfiction online when I was 14, posting initially on FanFiction.net and then moving to AO3 a few months later. As I got back into writing original fiction towards the end of high school, I lost interest in this community, and it’s been a long time since I posted anything much on AO3.

I’ve always struggled with the fact I display a lot of symptoms of CSA, and for the longest time, I couldn’t figure out why. Throughout my teen years, I refused to get changed or bathe when anyone was even vaguely nearby, constantly paranoid about being spied on; I developed a severe touch phobia, and would have frequent panic attacks from something as small as brushing arms with a passerby; I resolutely identified as asexual and refused to get into anything resembling a relationship with others because the very concept disgusted and repulsed me.

Weird, considering I had grown up pretty normal and all of these symptoms had started around my early teens. It was only when I told my friends about my friendship with a 30 year old I had met online that the pieces started falling into place for me.

Child grooming is usually discussed in the context of one adult going out of their way to befriend a child with the goal of lowering their resistance to sexual abuse, through normalisation and friendliness. I’d like to talk about how that worked on the fanfiction website AO3. Since it’s an open website and most communication takes place between anonymous users or accounts in the comments section of a work, there is very little delineation between spaces for adults to discuss whatever dark topics they like and spaces for kids to do the same.

This frequently leads to pretty inappropriate conversations between people of widely varying ages and life experiences, which is how I ended up talking sex as a fourteen year old with people ranging from a couple of years older than me, who were generally okay, to more than twice my age. The 30 year old in question listed on her profile how many pedophilic ships she loved, and she knew my age but pushed me to keep discussing sexual topics with her. Sounds like a red flag, yeah? Well. I was 14, and very stupid.

This 30 year old woman, who I will call Aku (because it’s similar to her screen name and because it’s funny to name her after the bad guy from Samurai Jack) would start conversations with me whenever I posted anything to AO3 and would refuse to take no for an answer when I tried to back out of conversations with her, and since these conversations were public and occurring within comments, I didn’t want to be rude to her since this was taking place on content I was trying to promote.

I told her my age multiple times and she would either pretend she forgot from last time (saying her memory is super bad) or continue as though it was just trivia about me and not a sign she shouldn’t have been pushing me. My primary objection to what she would say to me (since most of it was just her being annoying) was her insistence on sexualising everything I wrote, and her determination to push me into writing pornographic content, which I eventually gave in to.

Yes, she was a terrible person. She emailed me using her personal email address, so I know her full name and place of residence, because she’s an idiot. These emails also contain sexually explicit materials. Nothing much ever happened between us except for these very creepy interactions and the fact we remained online friends for a few years. But here’s the thing: she wasn’t the only person pushing me into creating sexual content. Lots of people would comment on my writing demanding that I show explicit sexual content when I really didn’t want to.

After a while it felt like I couldn’t write a longer, romantic fanfiction without including explicit sexual content. Like my work wasn’t valid without it. Other, more popular writers were usually sexual in their content, and I wanted to be like them and bring in the views, right? So, when I look at my back catalog of works, I can see how my content moved from completely non-sexual to featuring sexual content over time, and the views usually came with. In this way, I was in an environment that was encouraging me on many levels to sexualise my own work, which impacted the way I thought about my creative process.

Here’s another example I remember. When I was a young sprout, I remember reading down someone’s list of fanfiction recommendations and seeing a work called Hug Therapy, which I promptly read. While the work is marked as explicit and containing the Loki/Thor pairing, the use of relationship and rating tags on AO3 is so poorly regulated that it didn’t really mean anything to me to see either of those. People tag hardcore material as non-explicit and tag friendships as relationships, because there’s no motivation to tag properly. Plus, someone I followed here on Tumblr had recommended it to me.

Now, you wouldn’t know from the listing, but while this piece starts out as comedy, it turns out in the end to include rape, incest, and BDSM in very explicit terms. The fact it was tagged as being explicit didn’t slow me down, because the liberal use of these tags could mean that an explicit tag was just there because sexual content was implied or mentioned, which I thought would be the case based on the rest of the listing. Out of curiosity, I recently tried to report this work to the moderators for containing no warnings about incest or rape, and I got this in response:

“Selecting “Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings” satisfies a creator’s obligation under the warnings policy. Users who wish to avoid specific elements entirely should not access fanworks marked with “Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings”. Our Terms of Service note: “You understand that using the Archive may expose you to material that is offensive, triggering, erroneous, sexually explicit, indecent, blasphemous, objectionable, grammatically incorrect, or badly spelled. ….. This decision is in accordance with our policy of maximum inclusiveness; we have therefore closed this case and will not be investigating further.”

Which, yeah, I guess. The frustration comes from how ‘Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings’ is an extremely commonly used tag, and most things that it’s used on are totally harmless.

This fanfiction, which I was recommended by a friend, is hugely popular, in the top 60 most read fanfictions in the entire fandom. You wanna hear the kicker? The author, Astolat, is one of the founders of AO3. They’re not just some random author who isn’t following the rules. They’re a creator of the whole website, and they made the rules. This is pretty telling about how seriously the website actually takes protecting their users.

My final example I want to give is one of fetish content. People in fetish communities generally (not always) say that fetishes are probably something one should work up to after the onset of sexual activity, especially potentially harmful stuff like BDSM. In the circles I was running in, if you weren’t sporting a fetish or two (no matter your age) you were a boring bitch.

Maybe this isn’t true of everywhere in the fanfiction community, but I used to feel that bizarre pressure until I got out. Bear in mind that my main time in this community was from ages 14 to 17. I never made my age a secret, either. I told people outright I was that age, I was in high school, I was playing hockey and studying The Great Gatsby when I wasn’t online.

Since I was in the Avengers fandom and I liked Loki and the Asgardians, I was frequently exposed to incestuous content between Loki and Thor, and a lot of it came out of nowhere or was poorly tagged. This was considered the norm, and while I at first felt completely horrified and repulsed, within a year or two I no longer gave a shit. It’s only in the last few years as I’ve begun to unpack everything that I’ve started to get that strong revulsion reaction to incestuous content.

In the circles I was in, it was relentlessly normal. Normal to the point that people who disliked it were usually shouted down. Even to this day, debate rages on in fandom spaces about whether or not content like this normalises this kind of abuse. In my own personal experience, which I don’t usually like to talk about, it absolutely does.

In real life, this normalisation started to have serious consequences for my mental health and interpersonal relationships. In fanfiction, any occasion when you are alone with someone could become sexual, any familial relationship is possibly sexual, and it doesn’t matter if you like it or not. I became incredibly anxious around male family members for fear of being sexually assaulted, and my OCD, which I had been developing since I was a child, turned from thoughts of physical violence to thoughts of graphically sexually assaulted by anyone and everyone around me.

My fear of being touched got to the point where I would have panic attacks if anyone came anywhere close to touching me. I quit sports, fucked up my romantic relationships, and didn’t hug anyone, not even members of my family, for years. All the while, I had bought my first laptop and was consuming more fanfiction than ever before. I struggled with my sexuality growing up, as I am bisexual, and while fanfiction provided LGBT content to help me, the content was frequently so disturbing that I viewed any expression of sexuality as something evil and predatory.

The community on AO3, whether you like it or not, is often sexual, and provides no barriers between the casual user looking for content and extremely intense fetish material. It’s sometimes called the Pornhub of fanfiction, but considering the wide range of people who use it, it’s more like if you opened Youtube and saw niche hardcore fetish videos just on the front page, recommended and trending.

Sure, you have to click a little button to confirm you’re 18 before you can actually read a story, but the tags and descriptions of readily available works can be extremely explicit. Fanfiction also brings you into close contact with fellow readers and the author, and encourages you to become a content creator, which in some ways makes it more dangerous.

I was affected much more strongly by what I saw than most people would be, because I was already treading shaky ground. But I’m also not the only person out there who has been hurt in this way. Most of my friends who grew up in fandom can report the impact that fanfiction culture had on them. One of my friends from high school knew a panoply of porn terms at age 14 or so due to reading fanfiction, and another of my other friends at high school almost exclusively read rape porn because it was her favourite. I didn’t have friends who watched porn; I had friends who read fanfiction. These are just as troubling to me as any other accounts of young people consuming visual porn from a very early age.

It’s frequently cited that fanfiction gives minority groups the opportunity for creative outlet. It was a great place for me to cut my teeth as a content creator, and a source of acceptance and kindness when times were tough. Fanfiction communities have historically been the domain of women and minorities, and create a space for these people to tell their own stories.

It’s largely because of this that fanfiction communities fear censorship and strict moderation, as they have been attacked in the past on homophobic or misogynistic grounds, resulting in mass deletions of works or the shutdown of websites. But there must be some middle ground between total censorship and the kind of free rein that puts vulnerable people in danger, and I strongly encourage the board of AO3 to seek this middle ground out.

But it’s the community itself that needs to shape up; AO3 is, after all, a community-led website built by fans for fans, so the fact that this website has such issues is a reflection of the issues that run deeply within the people who created it. Aku didn’t talk to me with the intention of doing me harm, or so I believe at this time, and she didn’t pursue me as a lone wolf or in isolation.

She was simply a particularly brazen member of a community that was used to having inappropriate conversations with young people and sexualising everything they did. Even people my own age were jokingly pushing me into discussing and consuming extremely sexual content. It was just normal. That’s what I want to say here. Inside the world of fandom on AO3, the grooming of children with sexual content is normal. And that’s scary.

- Mod Daft

[sinnabonka]

Hey Hun! Lots of love to you. For starters I wanted to say that there should be no cell in your body blaming yself in any way. You and your blog were hope for so many people. You were the "you are not crazy" of the final weeks, and I'm forever grateful to you. Instead of dying of anxiety I managed to have a blast in this time of waiting, thanks to you. I passed my master thesis, because you gave me strength to see past the fear. I laughed in those weeks more than in last 5 years, and all of it because of the hope you gave me.

The rest of the msg is going to be pretty emotional rant about the awfulness of it all, and I know my opinion doesn't matter to anyone but I wanted someone important to me to hear my thoughts, if that's ok. It's also ok if you don't want to read it ofc. It's like my breakup letter to the show.

I hear many people cheering for the finale and i find it really hard to deal with. I always considered myself an open person who fights for healthy love as the only redeeming quality of the universe. I could see people's point of view, even if it didn't sit well with mine, and I would always try to hear them out respectfully until they weren't being respectful themselves. That said, I'm fully unable to understand cheering for this type of spiteful content and hearing those cheers makes me feel like the entire world is listening to "this is how you treat your fans, this is how to abuse your power over naive sheep, this is how to keep dumb, hopeful minorities in check" and taking notes.

It also upsets me that the people who gave this show all of themselves and tried to understand it to the core are given no resolution, are spitted on and buried under the rug for doing their best to appreciate the art and the story it was telling. Yet people, who just hang around and watch the show doing the dishes, with no consideration to it's story or characters, got as nonsensical ending as their whole idea of character development in SPN.

I know people say that it was good enough, because it leaves space for guessing and own interpretation, but I feel it's really undermining the extend to which the finale was awful and hurtful to the fans. There is no end that realistically could stop fanfic writers from finding way around it in the world of Supernatural, so saying it was thoughtful of them Is like excusing abusive partner because "they could hit me harder, but they didn't. That means they care"

Lose ends, characters being written in a way that is totally not true to them and their development (personally my biggest allegation), dismissing years of story development, proving that it was all 'queerbaiting' in big part in the end (hell, even the whole "Cas is in heaven so do with it what you will" is a shameful way of appalling to LGBTQ community after using them so hard.

In the pie scene, the roles should be swapped, it's Dean who should say that Cas is on his mind and Sam explaining him that it's only right to keep on living doing good in their name. That's what Dean told Sam at the beginning of the season, when Sam lost Rowena, so it would be at least a bit poetic. This would at least give us some truth from Dean for once, but he died how he lived, in shadow of his fear to be true towards his feelings and needs. And as he died, he bound his little brother to the hunting till the end of his days, by guilting him into it on his deathbed. Guess Dean took after his father.

Have you realised what that emotional "love speech" from Dean to Sam resulted in? It was writers taking back Cas' confession after they didn't need our viewership anymore.

They basically gave us love confession to get us to follow the finale and when they didn't need us anymore, not only they didn't commit to the confession, but they undermined it by having Dean's speech to Sam go the way it did with obviously higher emotional charge, successfully taking back the value of Cas' confession and making it about a bait for "Tumblr idiots"

Finale killed my feelings towards Destiel, not because it wasn't confirmed canon, but because from what I see in the episode, they canonically confirmed that

- for Dean, Cas was only means to an end, which is such an awful way of ending Cas' character arc. They gave him everything he was scared of and nothing close to consolation price and they dare to tell us he had a happy ending, "because they said so". Well, I didn't see him being happy, and knowing what i textually know i can empathise enough to say that he faced a miserable finish. Even Chuck got an end that was better than Cas' fate.

- Dean, given power to do anything he could dream of, chooses to not even greet Cas, after Cas gave his whole life to Dean, told him he loved him and died for him. I know some people consider the little smirk of Dean confirmation of his feelings, but let's be real for just a second. If someone you deeply loved for years confessed to you, told you they thought you don't love them back, you would be freaking running to see them and tell them how much you love them. That smirk to me reads as "I'm relieved to know you're not going to spend eternity in mega hell that i left you in" and we really need to stop giving credit to writers for scraps like this when it's the last episode ever and we know this isn't going anywhere.

Not to mention that by having Jack bring Cas back behind the scenes it just highlights the fact that Dean didn't ask him to do that in episode 19.

As result, I'm unable to look at any Destiel scene and not think "in here Cas already loved him and in here Dean already abuses the power he had over Cas, because of his one-sided love"

And yet, the episode and endgames for everyone (maybe not Sam, but he was seriously pinning for Dean his entire life. Wincest much?) managed to be so bad, that not even bringing Cas back or following up on Destiel would make a difference in my eyes. I know you believe that Destiel would save it, but for me as much as it would be a redeeming quality, it wouldn't be enough to save this awfulness that writer doomed characters with.

And all the Wincest scenes in the finale... I low key expected them to make out and it made me feel physically sick. Also, cutting Misha out because of coronavirus is a cheap excuse. We all know better than to believe that, so let's not fall for the self pity play from the abuser.

If you managed to stay with me till this point, thank you so much for hearing me out. I hope i didn't anger you with my monologue. I will always think of the lamp when i think of you. The reality is that you were the lamp for so many of us in this darkness.

Love you so much, wish all the best to you, take care of yourself and stay safe!

Oh my god, if I didn’t cry with the final, I definitely am crying now. And now I have to explain my partner why I’m staring at my laptop and sobbing ugly. What have you done? 

First of all, I hear you pain, my friend! I share it! I didn’t spend a second after the final without the feeling of my heart being shuttered into million pieces, being stitched back just to break again, and so on and so on. 

I had my first panic attack in two years yesterday, when I kept thinking about the message the show sent to the fandom via Dean’s fate. I have a few posts in my draft on the matter, but I am not sure I will ever share them, because it is one strong depresso, and I don’t think people following me should see how fucked up it really is (if they didn’t get it by themselves, of course). 

I want to remind you, my gentle soul, that the story belongs to us. We know Dean, we know Cas, we know Sam and others. We know that the final is not who they are! I know it’s hard to ignore the text, the canon, because it’s kinda godsent, but the truth is essential. And the final is not the truth.

The truth: 

Cas loves Dean, he sacrificed himself for him, he saved his life on multiple occasions, he told all those beautiful things and he meant every word.

Dean loves Cas, he was on his lowest every time he lost him, Cas was his “big win”, his best friend, his brother, his white light that lead him out of his anger, hatred and despair. He took a dog and called it Miracle, he was looking for a job to retire from hunting, he didn’t kill Chuck - all of that, because the sacrifice Cas made was not in vain! The message was clear. 

I choose to ignore the “Carry on”, the only attention it is going to get is me creating 20 more mails just to put a one star review there and to drop some more salty or bitter comments with it. Maybe I will read through some reviews, too, add them to my collection. 

Maybe I will one day write here an article from scriptwriting perspective how fucked up in was, because that’s what I can do about it, without throwing up. 

If you can’t ignore it, I understand it. It is painful, it is disrespectful, I hate it as much as you do, probably. 

If there’s anything I can do for you to feel better, just drop me a message, we can talk about it. I am on the lowest, too, but maybe we can help each other.

You say I was your lamp. Let me lead you our of the darkness one more time <3 

CW can suck my metaphorical dick (I’m tagging every angry post with it), but Supernatural is not just the show on CW, it’s a big family. 

And you can’t give up on it! You can’t give up on Dean and Cas, you can’t give up on Destiel! It’s so much bigger then the show itself.

Rediscover the show for yourself, remind yourself that Dean and Cas are real, it was never one sided, it was always something amazing. 

What is real? We are.

Don’t you ever change.

I rather have you, cursed or not.

It’s love, hun, and love always wins. 

[fortisfiliae]

Against the Odds - Part 3 [James Potter x reader]

Prompt: College AU ❃ Jocks are disgusting. Too good looking, too aware of it, too drunk and too dumb. Or so you thought. This is the third part for @marvelcapsicle‘s writing challenge.

A/n:  Since tumblr doesn’t show posts with links in the tags anymore, you can find previous parts on my masterlist, linked in my bio.   If you need to zoom in on the texts just click on the picture to do so. GIF is not mine.

Warnings: Swearing, sexual themes, fluff and a curly devil that will hunt your dreams

Word count: 3.2k

Part 3 - You up?

Thursday:

Half past nine in the evening, you had just typed the last word of your essay for English class and had clicked on the save-symbol when Louise entered your room, along with her boyfriend Mike. He was a frat guy. Jockish as hell. Maybe one of the reasons you hadn’t liked those type of guys.

You weren't sure why they had decided to come to your and Louise’s room – it was certainly too small to miss anything the other person said or did and Louise had told you countless times how lucky Mike was to have a room for himself at the frat. 

Anyway, you weren't going to ask them because they had decided to watch a movie on Louise's laptop and after arguing for twenty minutes, had finally picked something out. 

You were on your phone, texting with Remus, who had just started telling you things about his personal life and that he would go to the cinema with Sirius in a bit when you suddenly heard suspicious huffing from across the room. You turned over and caught Louise and Mike kissing. Vigorously. Not only that, but things were moving underneath their blanket and it didn't look like they were folding their hands to pray.

“Guys,” you said. “You know I can hear and see you from here.”

No answer. They just ignored you.

“Louise! What the fuck are you doing?”

She tore herself away from her boyfriend and took a breath before answering: “Sorry, Y/N. But you must know, I've just gotten off my period and we haven't-”

“Oh my god. Shut up, please. You can't be serious. Why don't you-”

Before you could finish your sentence, her mouth was on his again and now it seemed that she was climbing onto him.

“Hello?”

They ignored you again and now you heard something unzipping.

“That's it,” you said as you got up. “I'm leaving. And fuck you both. Or don't. Whatever.”

You rushed out the room and stood in the hallway, already typing a text to Remus, trying to ask him if he could help you out. Wait. He was going out with Sirius. So that wasn't an option. Shit. You walked over to the common room and sat down on one of the mouldy couches. Looking across the area you stared at the microwave for a minute, contemplating if sleeping here was the only alternative you had. Oh please no. It was gross and cold and people would notice. There was someone else you knew. Not that you preferred that. But it was worth a try, wasn't it?

So, yeah. Awkward.  

Oh god. Stupid. No one would believe that. Was there a way to unsend texts?

Okay, okay. Okay! Keep calm. You took a deep breath, smelling even more of the gunk that had built up on the kitchen counter, and stood up. Everything was better than spending the night between the remnants of pizza and hot pockets. You caught yourself walking in circles and finally brought up the courage to leave the dorm.

It was chilly outside, but you enjoyed the cool breeze as you stood on the pavement and pressed the front of your shoe into the concrete until it hurt. A car turned up on the far end of the street. Blinding headlights came closer with the engine revving until it slowed down and stopped right in front of you. A black and sleek Audi whatever-model. Rich parents – what else had you expected?

Last chance to run back in. He could still be a serial killer, right? But he had brought you a sandwich yesterday. Were you really just using food as refutation?  

The window rolled down and James' curly head poked out. “You coming?”

Well, curly hair and a sub would do as refutation for tonight.

You got in, closed the door and belted up before you finally looked over.

“Hi,” you said hesitantly.

“Hey. So... Drama at the dorm?”

“Yeah. And I’m sorry. That I asked you for this, you know.”

“Nah, it’s fine. I was at the bar and wanted to go home anyway. Actually, I'm glad you did.”

He put in the gear, started driving and looked like he wanted to say something but didn’t. There was a tiny smile on his lips that could only make you guess what he was thinking before you put your eyes on the road.

“So um... Who’s your roommate then? Do I know her boyfriend?” James asked after a while.

“Her name’s Louise. Her boyfriend is Mike. Mike um, Broogler or something? A frat guy, I’m sure you know him.”

“Brockler, yeah I know him. A frat guy, huh?” he grinned.

“He is a guy and part of the fraternity. Frat guy.”

“The way you say it makes it sound like that’s something bad.”

He was obviously joking, the tone of his voice still light and cheery, but there could have been a bit of truth behind his words.

“I didn’t mean it that way. Sorry if I hurt your feelings,” you said. “Frat guy.”

He chuckled as he backed into a parking space in front of the fraternity. “Frat guy is saving your ass tonight, so a bit more respect please.”

“Sorry mister frat guy, sir. I apologize.”

You followed James into the house, which had all the lights off and was empty, contrary to your prior beliefs.

“Boys are all out at the bar. Except for Mike,” he quipped.

The house looked completely different than it had when you were at the party. Classy and strict, a lot of old dark wood embellished the floors and furniture.  You peeked into the living room and it was actually quite cosy without the beer pong table and blaring music.

James walked up to the wide staircase on the end of the hallway and turned around. “Rooms are upstairs.”

“Uh yeah, I figured.”

So there it was. The moment you had to tell him that you hadn’t intended the same thing he maybe had thought of. There was a nasty lump in your throat. How should you bring it up? Maybe he wasn’t even thinking about it and you would just burst in with the unasked-for info that you didn’t want to sleep with him tonight.

“Hey um,” James began. “Just so you know, I won’t try anything. I can sleep in the living room if you want.”

God bless.  

“Thanks,” you said and felt a wave of heat on your cheeks. Where has your confidence gone? Get a grip.  

“Okay, let me show you my room then,” James said and offered his hand.

He led you up to the first floor that had doors to the bedrooms all around. They all had the initials of their names on the doors. His one was the third in line. JP in gold with a little lightning bolt next to it.

You pointed at it and asked: “What does that stand for?”

“I’m fast,” he said and smiled smugly. “Everyone in the team gets a nickname.”

“And yours is Bolt?” you asked as he opened the door.

“Flash,” he winked. “Excuse the mess.”

James went to pick up a bunch of dirty clothes from the floor. “I wasn’t expecting visitors.”

“No big deal, it’s not so bad.”

It really wasn’t so bad. The room was probably the same size as your shared one was, but with a private bathroom. The dream. His bed stood in the corner of the room - white sheets, very chic. On the opposite side was a sideboard with a medium sized TV on it, next to it was the door to the bathroom. His desk stood right by the window, a wardrobe to its left, a small fridge to its right. He’d hung lots of little photos of him and his friends and football fan articles on the walls. It was a bit messy, but it had character.

“Your room is really nice,” you said as you walked around and looked at the pictures.

“Thanks! Make yourself at home. I’m just putting the clothes away and I’m gonna take a shower real quick, I still smell like bar.”

“Sure.”

He closed the door to the bathroom behind himself and left you alone in his room. High level of trust. As you heard him turn on the water you walked over to the other side slowly, letting your fingers run over the sheets of the bed when you went by.

On the sideboard with the TV was his football helmet, freshly cleaned and shiny as a new penny. You noticed a small ball lying right beside it. The one he had gotten at the blood drive yesterday. It still had dents from his fingernails all over it. Looked like he had been more nervous than you’d thought. You smiled and dug your own finger into it, leaving one additional notch, before trying to switch on the TV. It would be nice to have some background sounds and avoid awkward silence later, but the remote was nowhere to be seen.

After looking at the sideboard, his desk and bed you went for the nightstand. Intrusive? Probably, but maybe it was in there.

You sat down on the bed and opened the drawer. No remote. But some other things. A small notebook and a nibbled off pen, as well as a framed picture of two people. They looked like husband and wife - both had grey hair, were probably in their seventies and smiled kindly into the camera. His grandparents? Well, since it was in there and not on the wall, he probably didn't want to talk about it.

You closed the drawer and swung your legs up onto the bed. Sitting, waiting, wishing. Wishing for confidence and poise and that your palms wouldn't start sweating every time James looked at you. Right now it felt like his whole room was staring you down. Like it was eating you up. But not in a bad way, it was a welcoming feeling to sit there and gaze over the bits and bobs of his belongings.

When you noticed that the water had stopped running you took out your phone to try and look like you hadn't been spying. A few moments later James returned in a plain white shirt and grey sweatpants. Quite the look on him admittedly. His hair was still wet, some drops of water running down the side of his face to his jawline and even further down to his chin. God damn, you couldn't take your eyes off him. He must have done this on purpose.

“You good here?” he asked as he ran his hand through the wet mess on his head.

“Uh-huh, I am. Was trying to find the remote, but didn't.”

“Oh um. I think I know where it is,” James said and threw himself onto the bed, half lying, half crawling and stuck his arm under the pillow. “There we go.”

He turned on the TV and switched channels for a while until he stopped on the news. The news?! You both sat in silence pretending to be interested in whatever the reporter was talking about. Note to self: There can be awkward silence even if you have background sound.

Trying to think of something to say turned out to be harder than you'd thought. What do you talk about with a guy that had taken you home because you had asked him to, while he lay next to you, smelling like a pinewood full of sunshine and fairies? The fact that there was an inch of skin showing between his shirt and pants wasn’t helping either.

“So-” - “Do you-”

After minutes of silence, you had both decided to start talking in the same second. Both of you laughed at your mutual awkwardness and James sat up straight.

“Sorry, what did you want to say?” he asked.

“Nothing really,” you admitted. “I was just... I don't know. Go on, please.”

He grinned like he was glad that you were more nervous than him. Looked like it gave him a confidence boost. As if he needed one.

“I wanted to say that I can give you clothes to sleep in. You didn’t bring anything in your handbag, did you?”

“No, I didn't really have time to pack when I was running from the fucking in my room. But it's fine, you don't -”

“Oh, come on,” he said. “You don't want to sleep in jeans. No one wants that.”

“Yeah, I guess I don't.”

He crawled off from the bed and walked over to the wardrobe. “I'm afraid I don't have anything sexy,” he joked. “But a frat shirt will do I think.”

He laid it down next to you before sitting on the bed again.

“Thanks, James. I'm gonna go change in the bathroom.”

“Sure. I put out a toothbrush too if you want to brush your teeth.”

What a mom.

The bathroom was small but still better than one on the hallway. You took off your clothes and put on the shirt James had given you. It looked huge on you. Dark red with the fraternity name Kappa Delta Rho on it, it reached almost down to your knees, like a really unflattering dress. It was soft and smelled nice though. Not like pine wood and fairies, but sweeter. Clean, fresh cotton with a hint of washed out cologne. 

The toothbrush he had been talking about laid next to the sink, still unpacked and new. Did a stock of dental hygiene products mean he had people here often?

After you were done in the bathroom you went back to James' room, where he was lying on his bed again, watching TV with one hand behind his head, the other one tucked into his waistband. This time, it seemed he couldn’t take his eyes off you. A dumbfounded expression on his face as you walked towards him and the way he eyed you up and down made you instantly feel better about yourself. There was your confidence boost and you had very much needed it.

He cleared his throat when you sat down on the bed. “Well. If you want to sleep now I can go downstairs and -”

“No,” you interrupted him, maybe a bit too eagerly.

“Sorry?”

“I… I think you can stay. If you want. I mean, it’s your room. That wouldn’t be fair, to invite myself over and send you down to sleep on the couch.”

“Oh.” He looked more confused now, his hand wandered to the back of his neck. “I mean yeah. I’m glad to stay if you want that.”

You smiled, lifted the blanket to crawl underneath it and lay down sideways to face him. “I think that’s what I want, yes.”

He got under the blanket as well and said: “We can watch a movie if you want.”

Half an hour into “Baby Driver”, you had caught James looking at you twice. But the only reason you caught him was that you had looked over as well. It was absurd really, how every move he made got your heart rate up to 180. Every time he breathed in deeply or stretched out his legs you thought he would reach over and hold your hand. And suddenly, after checking his phone, he did. You were so focused on coming off relaxed that you didn’t even grip it back. It must have felt like you were dead until you remembered that you weren’t. You held his palm tighter and felt his thumb running over the side of your index finger, which made your stomach tingle.

“James?” you asked.

“Yes?”

“You’re really nice. I mean really,” you said even though you didn’t know where those words were coming from. “You know at first I thought you were just this guy, screaming with a beer keg on his shoulder. And I thought you were cocky, which… You are when I think about it.”

He laughed lowly. “That started as a compliment and ended as an insult.”

“I know, sorry” you bantered. “But you’ve been a real gentleman, very sweet and respectful and I didn’t expect that. Thank you for that.”

“You’re welcome,” he said, wearing a smile that showed he was really full of himself right then, but that didn’t matter because his face neared yours now.

A kiss so sweet, it would have literally swept you off your feet if you hadn’t been lying down already. His lips, soft and mellow, skimmed over your own and it felt like listening to music; easy and pleasant as you found your rhythm and moved to the imaginary beat. His damp hair tickled your forehead until a simple peck brought your song to an end and a foolish grin seemed to refine it.

“How does it feel?” he asked after some seconds of silence.

“What do you mean?”

“Being in a frat, wearing a frat-shirt, kissing a frat guy in his frat-bed?”

“Oh shut up,” you laughed pushed him off by his shoulder.

He countered and started tickling you, to which you started screaming, turned around and kicked his legs.

“Whoa, easy Rambo,” James chortled and held you tight.

“No mercy for a tickler,” you answered and let your hand rest on his arm. “You’re a fool, James. I like you.”

The next time you opened your eyes was when a ray of sunshine beamed right into your face. You tried to shift but couldn’t until you noticed that James’ arm was still around your waist and held onto you even in his sleep. His breaths were slow and deep, his skin soft on yours and you could have easily spent the rest of your day in this position.

That was until you took your phone from the nightstand and checked the time. 9:17! Shit. You had forgotten to set an alarm last night and your first class started at 10. You had to leave right now, or you wouldn’t make it on time. So you shuffled away from his grip, got up, put your clothes on and went out the door.

While on your way to the dorm you took the time to shoot James a message:

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[owlespresso]

Expectant

One of the many few times I’ve written Mirio! I experimented with the formatting a little, and think it came out well.  My tip jar is open! I write headcanons in exchange for donations! If you’re interested, check it out HERE. Tips can be as little as three dollars and they mean the world to me! They encourage me and let me know that people really value my work.

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“Mirio, there’s something I want to talk to you about.” The clinkung of silverware against a porcelain bowl comes to a complete stop at your declaration. Drawing Mirio’s attention away from his dinner is an incredible feat, but if anyone can do it, it’s his wife.

“What… what is it?” He places his silverware down and his fingers begin to drum against the kitchen table. “You’re breaking up with me?”

“No, of course not—”

“You’re in love with someone else!” He asks, eyes wide, voice urgent.

“No—”

“You’re ready to have a baby?” He asks and a sly grin curls onto his lips. His hand reaches up to to cup his chin and he wiggles his eyebrows in a clearly facetious manner.

You don’t reply and instead sit back in your chair, light heat rising to your cheeks. Your gaze slants down to the table and it takes everything in you to stop a wide smile from completely covering your face.

“...I mean, you’re the number four hero. You can definitely support us if I have to go on leave.” You say with a sheepish smile, fingers laced together. Across the table, Mirio’s mouth opens and he gapes, uncomprehending for a moment before his lips curl into the widest smile you’ve ever seen from him.

“This isn’t a prank, right? Tamaki’s not hiding under the table with a camera or something?” He shoves his seat out from the table and you wince as the legs squeal against the polished wood. He ducks to look under your kitchen table, before popping back up, onto his feet, like he can’t sit still.

“No, it’s not. I think I’m ready.” You’re unsure why you suddenly feel so shy, but the feeling mixes with joyful giddiness that’s hard to contain. His grin is contagious and you smile from ear-to-ear when he swoops in, effortlessly lifting you from your chair and spinning you around.

Within ten minutes he’s already talking about names, which school they’ll be going to, what their quirk might be. It’s charming and overwhelming at the same time—

“You’re so fucking gorgeous.” He breathes into your ear, a low whine, a plea all at the same time. Three years ago, if someone had told you that you’d be married to Mirio Togata, number four hero, you’d have laughed in their face.

But he’s right here and the pads of his fingers are pressing into your hips, hard enough to bruise. You love those hands, hands that hold and save and caress, but punch and destroy and strangle and gods, you love every inch of him so much. Every muscle in his abdomen bends and flexes with each well-timed thrust, and you wish you could keep your eyes open long enough to burn the image into your mind.

Your hands scramble for purchase on his shoulders and the bed creaks and starts to howl as he amps up his pace, slamming his cock deep inside you. Your head thumps back on one of the many pillows he’d piled onto the bed in preparation for all of this—insisting that you needed only the best and softest of beds.

“You don’t have to butter me up.” You’d said. And here you are, not even fifteen minutes later, left to arch and roll your hips in a feeble, pathetic attempt to meet his frantic movements.

His breath comes out in heavy pants and you feel yourself already sweating, a thin sheet that the glimmers under the dim lighting of your room. You wish you could turn the lamp on, see the beautiful way which his eyebrows contort and his lips open around a loud, shameless moan. But he gives another harsh thrust and all coherent thought vanishes from your mind—

“What’re their names gonna be?” Mirio drums his fingers against the kitchen table and stands up, pacing back and forth. There’s a bounce in his step. “What color is the nursery gonna be? Should we move into a new house?”

“Mirio, I’m not even pregnant yet.” You inform him, standing up and walking over to him. He stops in his tracks when you step in front of him, wrapping your arms around his neck. His arms automatically curl around you, encompass you and you relish in how safe, how protected you feel.

“Being prepared never hurts,” He argues lightly, kissing your forehead. You press your face into his chest and inhale the smell of his cologne, of his freshly-cleaned sweater. “You said that last week! Remember?”

“I was talking about preparing a speech for the award ceremony. Completely different, I assure you.” You press your forehead into his chest and bask in his warmth, surrounded and cocooned by it.

Mirio Togata is going to be the best father ever. They haven’t even been conceived yet and you already know that he’s going to go to the moon and back for them, but first—

His lips brush against your chest, erratic kisses over your heated skin, around your nipples, avoiding where you want to be touched the most. His tongue laves over some of the marks he’s already made, florets of blue and purple beginning to bloom and flourish like early spring. Your nails drag along the backs of his broad shoulders and you feel the shift of his muscles underneath the skin, flexing with every move he makes.

He bears the world on his shoulders and he’s going to make room there for a family. You rest your head back on the pillow and fight to open your eyes, desperate to not be swept under by every surge of violent, lavish pleasure he strikes you with.

Your thighs, wrapped tight around his waist, are beginning to burn and tremble from the strain of it and suddenly there’s just heat, heat, heat as he cums, spilling within you. You feel his release coat your walls and fill you, slicking your cunt and soon your inner thighs.

“God, Mirio!” Your voice raises to a high keen and your eyes squeeze shut, feeling your orgasm beginning to nip at your heels. With a surprising amount of strength and dexterity for someone who’d just cum, Mirio pulled himself out. The motion made your eyes shoot open, a devastated scream spilling from your lips, but it dissolved into a moan when his tongue laved across your clit, three of his fingers filling you up instantly.

They thrust in and out of you, his wrist tensing and working hard with each motion but his pace didn’t die down, refusing to tire in his quest to give you as much pleasure as possible. Left without purchase, your hands reached for the sheets, fingers curling tight around them, knuckles going white—

“I can take off to raise the kids, if you want.” Mirio says suddenly, looking up from the book he’d been reading. From your spot on the sofa, your fingers pause on the keys of your laptop and you fix him with a puzzled expression, unsure if you’d heart him right.

“What?” You tip your head and squint.

“You’re gonna be off duty for nine months. I don’t want to you to have to take off longer,” He absentmindedly brushes his thumb over the page, always a fidgeter. “I’m gonna be out and about for all that time. The least I can do is look after them while you’re tryna get back into the swing of things.”

“Mirio,” The kids haven’t even been conceived and he’s already thinking about how you’ll feel, what you’ll want after their born. Your chest squeezes with how much you love this man. “...Thank you, but you’re the number four hero. And you might go up in the rankings. I don’t want to pull you away from that.”

“Yeah, but I can earn that back!” He insisted and crosses his arms, cheeks puffing up in the cutest pout, “I’m charismatic enough! The people will be unable to resist my charms. I’ll probably be back on the top ten within a week.” His estimates are far-fetched, but you have to consider the fact that he might become incredibly popular with families, mothers especially, if he takes time off to be with his family. It’s no secret that the general populace loves to see gestures of kindness and humility from their heroes, but…

“Are you sure?” No matter how much you want to protest, the idea of being able to head back to work much sooner is incredibly appealing, even though you haven’t left yet. Sure, being a hero is a tough and draining occupation. But you love it. You love saving people and improving lives.

And you know that you’ll likely start to feel left behind after you take off for maternity leave—

“Absolutely.” Mirio nods enthusiastically, attempting to look as serious as possible. His eyebrows turn downwards and his lips press into a thin straight line, but you can see he’s trying to hold a back a smile, a fruitless attempt which ends after about three seconds. “I mean it! You should definitely let me take care of things while you get back on top!”

“Only if you’re sure,” You relented with a small sigh. “We’ll have nine months to think it over. So if you ever change your mind, just say so.”

You reach your breaking point with a high pitched whine, eyes shutting tight as euphoria caused your thighs to quake, your body writhing in the silk sheets. Your warm fluids mix and it’s gross and beautiful and arousing all at the same time, staining the towel you had the foresight to put down before all this started.

When Mirio pulls back, there’s a wet sheen coating his lips. Your cheeks burn as he smiles, your breath heaving in and out of your lungs. The back of your throat is going to be a little sore because of all the screaming, but you forget about it almost immediately when he crawls up the bed and collapses against your side. He cranes around to grab a small towel off the nightstand (also your idea) and wipes off his mouth, his face). A thin sheet of sweat glosses over his body and you take a few, blissful moments to run your fingers along his built abdomen, worshipping every groove and flex of his musculature.

“How are you feeling?” Is the first thing he asks. His lips curl into a gentle smile, one of his hands reaching over to brush against your cheek. Your head lolled to the side to give him more room, smiling drowsily.

“Really good,” You say, closing your eyes as his touch roams down your neck, to the crook and then to your shoulder, before withdrawing.

“Good enough to go another round?” He inquires and you crack an eye open, giving him a mock-scowl.

“Maybeeee,” You draw out.

“We can’t not,” Mirio pouted, “We gotta make sure it sticks.” The cheeky reply nearly makes you choke but you can see his cock already getting hard again, and you don’t suppress the pulse of arousal that rolls through your love-drunk system.

You should get off the bed, clean yourself up a little bit, get a drink of water, but within another minute the tip of his cock is pressed against your cunt and you’re sliding down onto him, eyebrows nettling together, lips parting in a moan.

His hips draw up and your walls squeeze tight around his cock, the both of you settling into a harmonious rhythm. His calloused hands reach up to palm and grope your breasts as they bounce, palms rubbing against and teasing your nipples to full hardness. Your noises pitch up into little squeals and your thighs threaten to give out from under you as you bounce up and down on his dick.

Pants heave in and out of your chest and your muscles squeeze tight with the effort of keeping yourself up. The burn of the exertion coupled with the pleasure curls together, creating an intoxicating, overwhelming pair of sensations. When your pants become gasps, he stills and your eyes fly wide open. Why did he stop? Were you doing something wrong? You whine and clench around him.

“You doing alright?” He asks, concern melting your heart and burning through any possible agitation you could have felt.

“Yeah, I’m good.” Your hands press against his broad shoulders.

He raises an eyebrow, expression skeptical. His hands move from your breasts and down to your hips, settling over your warm skin before he grips, lifting you effortlessly on his cock, before easing you back down.

God, that’s hot—

Knowing that he could just as easily crush your windpipe is much more attractive than it has any right be. And you’d feel a little mad about it if he weren’t lifting you up and down on his cock, his thrusts causing your thighs to tense and your pelvis to briefly brush against his whenever you touch down.

“Mirio—” Your fingers curl into his shoulders, scratching at his skin, drawing angry red paths that’ll settle and stay there for a day or so. “Mmmnh, fuck! Fuck me!” One of your hands reaches down to your folds and frantically rubs in a circular motion. Your thighs twitch as you come dangerously close to overstimulation.

Heat rushes up your spine, dances along your nerves and fuck, fuck, fuck—

“Remind me why we’re in the baby section of the clothing store?” You ask, raising an eyebrow on him. Only yesterday did the two of you decide to start trying for kids, and he’s already wheeled you down to the nearest clothing shop. Well, first he took you to dinner. It’d been a long day at work, so he’d wanted to treat you. Which was incredibly sweet, but you had to wonder if this had been planned all along.

“Just… food for thought,” He says, shifting from foot-to-foot. You really can’t complain. His eagerness to shop for the baby that doesn’t even exist yet is probably the most precious thing you’ve ever seen.

You only hope that none of your, or his fans find you here. The last thing you need is anyone getting wind of and breaking the news before you get a chance to. It’s your job to tell the world about the baby you want to have. Not some half-baked paparazzi desperate to lick the bottom of the barrel for a scoop, a quick buck.

But he’s stepping forward and looking at the little booties, and pointing to ones he likes. His excited chatter is infectious and soon, you’re avidly browsing with him, looking at small hats and knitted caps—

Your back arches and your thoughts jumbled and your lips opened around a cry of his name, one that bounced off the walls and rumbled through your home.

Your walls clenched around his hardness, heart thrumming in your ears as you came dangerously close to the edge.

His pace stuttered, uneven, and the muscles in his arms strained and flexed as he continued to fuck you through it. You bordered oversensitivity, caught between too much and just enough and stop, but also come closer. It blasted your senses and caused hot tears welled up in your eyes and blur your vision.

He came with a final jerk of his hips, teeth hitching in the skin of your shoulder to hold back a moan. Cum filled up the small space inside of you and only when he was finished did he ease you to rest on top of him. Your head rested against his sweaty shoulder and your eyes shut tight, limbs made of jello.

The room is quiet, save the sounds of your roughened inhales and exhales. For all the times you’ve had sex with him, you’ve never quite grown accustomed to just how much he really is. He wears you out, uses you thoroughly, treats you like a princess after, and you love him.

Speaking of being treated like a princess, his hands grab your hips again and you make a small murmur of protest, not wanting to move yet. The only answer you get is a chuckle in your ear as he shifts, making you inhale sharply as he moves inside. A small peak over his shoulder lets you know that he’s heading towards the edge of the bed. Ah, is he taking you to the bathroom? As much as you’d like to lay around and relax after all that, you know that washing off is probably a better idea, before everything settles and dries. The afterglow is great, but cleanliness is better.

Ah, you’re also going to have to throw those sheets in the wash. Dammit. You resist the urge to sigh, but don’t want him to think anything is actually wrong, so you just shut your eyes again and go along for the ride.

“Wrap your legs around me.” He says and you listen, because why not? You trust the man with your life, and the life of a child you don’t eve have yet. You throw your arms around his shoulders for good measure and squeak in surprise as he stands, walking out of the bedroom, making his way into the hallway of your upstairs. The pale blue walls pass in a blur and before you’re in the bathroom. One of his hands splays out on your lower back to keep you tight to him as he leans over to turn the shower on, pulling back just in time to prevent you from getting splashed. Some of the initial spray gets in your hair, but you don’t mind.

While you wait for the water to get warm enough, you press your ear against his chest and listen to the soothing sound of his heartbeat. There aren’t any words, right now. Which is strange, considering Mirio is Mirio, and he’ll talk anyone’s ear off if they let him.

But there really doesn’t need to be a conversation. The two of you can co-exist in a comfortable silence and the fact that he doesn’t feel the need to fill it lets you know that he truly loves you.

[tonydadisbestdad]

Dear Peter Parker - 9 - You Will Be Found

Peter ParkerxReader

Dad!Tony, Mom!Pepper, Brother!Connor

Word Count: 1,714

A/N: Sorry it’s been a while, enjoy!

Previous Next

Peter was surprised when you weren’t at school that day. Or rather, he was disappointed. He was hoping you’d stand on the side while he gave his speech, if anything just for comfort.

He’d read over his speech a hundred times. When it was finally time for everyone to head to the auditorium he was freaking out.

Ned threw an arm around his shoulders. “It’s gonna be fine. It’s not like you’re about to lie to the whole school or something.”

“Thanks,” Peter said, sarcasm falling from his lips.

“Look, you’re doing a good thing. Relax, it’s going to be fine.” He assured.

“Ready?” MJ asked, approaching them.

“This is a bad idea,” Peter said.

The three of them started their journey backstage.

After being introduced by their principal, Peter froze.

Of course, MJ being the saint that she is gave him a shove.

Peter stumbled a little but was glad for the push to get moving. His journey to the microphone was nerve wracking.

“H-hi everyone,” he greeted, he was met with silence and just the bright spotlight on him. He could just about see the first few rows of people before it became a little too dark in the auditorium. He fumbled with his note cards and then pulled gently at his shirt collar. The blue tie around his neck that he’d struggled to figure out how to tie that morning was just a bit too tight.

“Pete,” Connor said, beside him. “Tell them how you feel… tell them about what you want to do. You’ve got this.”

Peter took a breath and nodded. “Have you ever felt like nobody was there? Have you ever felt forgotten or like you could disappear and nobody would even notice? Like you could fall, and no one would hear?”

There were a few murmurs from the crowd.

He nodded, and shifted his cards. He could do this. He could do this for Connor it was the least he could do. “Well, let that lonely feeling wash away. Maybe there's a reason to believe you'll be okay. 'Cause when you don't feel strong enough to stand, you can reach out your hand… and someone will coming running, and I know, they'll take you home. Even when the dark comes crashing through, and when you need a friend to carry you. When you're broken on the ground I can tell you, you will be found. So let the sun come streaming in, because you'll reach up and get up and look around and see that you’re found. Whether it’s in just one person, or a few. Even if you think you have no one, someone will find you.”

He left the podium, applause erupted. MJ actually hugged him as he made it back to the wing. Ned pat his shoulder, as MJ ran out to give her part.

She talked about their plans for The Connor Project and how everyone could participate and be apart of it. As soon as she was done Ned went out to talk about fundraising for it.

Later that night Peter flopped back onto his bed.

“You did great,” Connor said.

“Thanks,” Peter offered, looking at the boys pale face.

“No, thank you, Peter. I know if I hadn’t done what I did things wouldn’t be the same, but I really wish we could have been friends… I wish I wasn’t so fucked up that I didn’t have to follow through with it. Not that I regret it, I’m finally free… but I’m glad it’s given you something good.”

“You’re not going to like, go to the other side now are you?” Peter asked.

Connor chucked. “No, you’re stuck with me until I decide to go. You still have a lot of work ahead of us.” He winked at him before he did disappear.

“Peter,” May said, knocking softly on his door.

“Yeah May?” He asked as she opened the door.

“Don’t forget tomorrow we’re going to visit those school’s you’re looking into for college.” She reminded him.

With everything going on, he did forget about his weekend plans. He just had to hope MJ and Ned could handle things for their first weekend without him. He certainly wasn’t going to get out of going.

MJ ran up to Peter that monday morning. “Have you seen this? Someone put a video of your speech on the Connor Project page.” She handed him her phone to show him.

“M-My speech?” Peter asked, taking her phone to look. There he was up on that stage, looking awkward as ever giving his speech.

“People started sharing it, and now Connor is everywhere. Well more than he was before but for a better reason,” She was happy that their movement was making progress already. She had feared it would flop and they wouldn’t end up helping anyone.

“Your speech is everywhere,” Ned said, approaching them, excitement in his voice. He might not have liked Connor, but he did know this was also for Peter. He was happy that this might help him in the long run. “Saturday morning the Connor Project page only had 62 people following it.”

“How many does it have now?” Peter asked, surprised that they’d gotten even that many.

Ned gave him an answer but MJ spoke right over him. “31,836,” She started hitting Peter’s arm in excitement.

He could only stare between them. “I-I don't understand, what happened?”

“You did,” Ned and MJ stated together.

“This is a place where no one has to feel like they’re no one.” MJ told him. “And everytime someone calls out here they’re less alone.”

“All they have to do is post about it on the page and someone is bound to answer,” Ned added.

“Your voice is being heard,” MJ informed him.

“This is incredible.” Peter said.

Connor appeared beside him, “Yeah, it is.”

Later on at lunch Peter started reading through all the responses on the page with his phone. MJ’s laptop sat in front of them as they watched a news clip. He was amazed that it was on the news, but then again he realized that the Stark’s were pretty well known, especially in New York City.

“Oh my god, everyone needs to see this!”

“I just keep rewatching this video! It’s incredible!”

“Seventeen years old,” the person on the news said. “Take just 5 minutes to watch, it will make your day! Share it with the people you love, repost it. More people need to hear about this.”

There were dozens of reposts already, and the number was climbing.

“The world needs to hear this!”

“A beautiful tribute”

There were as many likes as views which had doubled since they’d checked before homeroom that morning.

“I know someone who really needed to hear this today, so thank you Peter Parker, for doing what you’re doing.”

“I never met you Connor, but coming on here, reading everyone’s posts, you left such an impact.”

“It’s so easy to feel alone, but Peter is exactly right! We’re not alone, none of us are alone!”

“Especially now, with everything that you hear in the news,” the woman in the news continued. “It’s so important to spread this message.”

“Thank you Peter, for giving us a space to remember Connor - a fellow classmate”

There were prayers and messages from all over the country. So many thank you’s.

He couldn’t believe it. He was actually making a difference.

You walked into lunch late that afternoon. You had seen the video practically right after it was posted. You had been watching the page, just in case anyone made any cruel comments about it. You didn’t want Peter to lose this. You watched everything unravel, all weekend. But Peter’s speech, it really hit you. You were so moved by it. Frankly, you were afraid to approach him after how you had acted, but now you knew what you were feeling. It was all thanks to him.

Peter spotted you out of the corner of his eye, he offered an awkward smile.

You offered a half one back and nodded, silently asking him to follow you.

“I’ll be back guys,” Peter told his friends. He followed after you and somehow the two of you ended up outside on a bench. “Hey, everything alright?”

“I finally get it,” You told him. “I think I actually forgive him, and it’s all thanks to you Peter.”

Peter shyly rubbed the back of his neck. “W-well, I mean-”

“Everyone feels some type of darkness in them, maybe not always like Connor did, but it manages to crash through… And I think I was letting that darkness keep me from expressing my grief… I wanted to thank you, because without you here to carry me through it in some way even when I was being cold to you about it. I-I was feeling so broken about this loss and I felt misunderstood because both of my parents feel differently about it. And somehow you managed to pull it all together. You showed me that I can feel other things besides this hate towards Connor. That it’s okay for me to just reach out to people... You helped me find my feelings again. And I just-,”

He’d been nodding along, a small smile on his face. He was glad that you finally came to terms with the loss of your brother, he was happy he could help. His eyes went wide when you stopped mid sentence and pressed your lips to his. That didn’t last long though, his eyes shut, his hand found your cheek. He kissed you back.

“You did so great up there,” you mumbled against his lips. “The help you’ll bring to other people-”

He lightly pecked your lips again, cutting you off.

You chuckled quietly. “You’re doing so much to help others. I really admire you for it.”

“Well, thanks, Y/N,” Peter said, pushing some of your hair behind your ear. “It’s not a big deal, I just… I didn’t want anyone to forget or be forgotten…”

You nodded. “I get that… But as much as I appreciate you doing this advocacy work for people, can we maybe… focus on us for a bit?”

Peter smiled and pulled you in for another kiss.

Things were really starting to look up for him.

Tags: Wanna be tagged? Just ask!

@manchurian-barnes, @marrvelle-fics, @chloe-geoghegan1, @awkwardturtle25, @defenestrate-yourself-please, @3blue-dreams3, @marvellouspengwing, @lesbian-jesus-jr, @valiantelk, @godhateskyleigh, @thepowerstoner, @lou-la-lou, @marvelc00kie35, @lynnskata, @bookgirlunicorn, @buckysendoftheline WOW TUMBLR ACTUALLY LET ME TAG EVERYONE THIS TIME!

[stopforamoment]

TRIGGERS Part Fourteen: Shit Show Rodeo (Series Eleven, Part 14 of 16)

Series Eleven: It’s uh Movin’ Thing, but Still and All (Sixteen Parts) TRIGGERS Part Fourteen: Shit Show Rodeo (Series Eleven, Part 14 of 16)

Masterlist

Book: The Royal Romance (After Book Three)

Pairing: Bastien Lykel x OFC Rinda Parks

Word Count: 2,054

Rating: R for Strong Language, Verbal Fight, Reference to Online Child Predators, Reference to Grief after Death of a Spouse, Reference to Children Affected by Death and Divorce

TRIGGERS: Verbal Fight, Reference to Online Child Predators, Reference to Grief after Death of a Spouse, Reference to Children Affected by Death and Divorce

Author’s Note: Obligatory disclaimer that Pixelberry Studios owns the TRR characters and my pocketbook with those darn diamond scenes. OFC with all of her quirks is all mine. My apologies if Tumblr or I do something stupid when I try to post this. The keep reading link shows up on my laptop but not my phone. Ugh.

Thank you @asherella-is-a-dork-3​ for always being my sounding board! Thank you @liam-rhys​ and @silviasutton1989 for still being a part of the journey!

Triggers: There are going to be some dark themes in this series that deal with the consequences of what happens when parents don’t put their children first. I promise I won’t get graphic, and I’ll tag each section accordingly. This will tie in with future events and another aspect of Bastien and Rinda’s personalities—as individuals and as a couple.

TRIGGERS: Verbal Fight, Reference to Online Child Predators, Reference to Grief after Death of a Spouse, Reference to Children Affected by Death and Divorce

Series Summary: It’s the week of October 14th, the sixth week of the school year. Henry and Rinda are staying in Cordonia, which means that Rinda can now begin to move forward, and backwards, with professional and personal aspects of her life.

One inspiration while I wrote this was a quotation from Zora Neale Hurston’s Their Eyes Were Watching God:

“Love is lak de sea. It’s uh movin’ thing, but still and all, it takes its shape from de shore it meets, and it’s different with every shore.”

The other was these lyrics from the song “I Dreamed a Dream” from Les Misérables:

“But the tigers come at night / With their voices soft as thunder / As they tear your hope apart / As they turn your dream to shame.”

Chapter Summary: This jumps backward to Tuesday night of week six, before Bastien visited Rinda and Henry at their house. Bastien and Drake get into a fight, and Drake points out Bastien’s shortcomings—and dumps out some of the pain he’s experiencing.

Shit Show Rodeo

Tuesday of Week Six, Three Days before the King and Queen’s Visit

They were at the palace, and Bastien found Drake drinking in his room. “Drake, why is Vivian Trakas on the guest list for this Friday’s teacher appreciation dinner?”

“I don’t know, Bastien. Why aren’t you ever able to tell her to just fuck off? She only invited herself because you’re going to be there.”

Bastien pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to be patient. “Why would she do that? Everything was resolved at the block party, and besides, I’ll be working. It’s not like I’ll even have time to talk to her. I know she’s annoying . . .”

Bastien actually flinched when Drake threw his whiskey glass against the wall, shattering it into tiny shards that sailed through the air and settled on the floor. “I’m trying to deal with this goddamn shit show and now you’re here asking me why Vivian Traskas is on the guest list, and all you can say is that ‘she’s annoying’? He slammed his fist into the wall. “You have no fucking clue what’s going on, so just let it go. You’re back to doing palace security, and that guest list is part of your job. I gave you an answer. If you don’t like it, then I suggest you do your job and figure out why she’s on the list. Or better yet, just take her off the list. Having her at a teacher appreciation evening? Fucking priceless, Bastien.”

Bastien sat down. “What’s going on?”

“Do you know how much this entire shit show is hurting Rinda? And Henry? You have no fucking clue, because Rinda won’t tell you. She wants you to be able to focus on security for the King and Queen’s visit. Bastien, all you have to do is take Vivian off the fucking list. You don’t have to deal with her every day anymore. You have no fucking clue . . . You never do. Just like you didn’t know how badly my mom was hurting because she didn’t want to tell you the truth and burden you. Or how badly you fucked over Riley when you helped set her up with the Tariq scandal.”

Bastien stood up, livid because he knew Drake was right. If something was going on, he knew Rinda wouldn’t say anything until the visit was over. And he knew he failed Bianca, even if he did judge her for leaving her children in Cordonia. And God knows he regretted what he did to Riley—probably now more than ever before. “Drake, you’re out of line. And I did everything I could . . .”

Drake cut him off. “Well you didn’t do enough. And you don’t know how badly you’re fucking up now. Do you? Sit down, Bastien. I’m going to tell you. I’m going to fucking tell you what you are too stupid to even realize you’re doing.” Drake stared at Bastien until he sat down.

“Look, Rinda reminds me a lot of my mom—especially how much Rinda loved Jameson. But when dad died, mom just broke and nothing could fix it, and she had to run away. I think Rinda’s different that way. At least she’s trying to be. She stayed in the same school building Jameson died in just so she could be close to Henry and try to protect him, but then she knew when it was getting to be too much and she had to do something different. So she talked with Henry, and they decided to do the exchange program. She needed to run away, but she knew she still had to be a mom.

“And even when it was changed to Cordonia instead of Scotland, she still checked with Henry before they agreed. This position was supposed to be a full year, not one semester. But Rinda fought like hell to make it one semester, for Henry, with the condition that she would stay for the full year if that’s what would be best for her and Henry. She gave Henry the most time she could to make his decision on whether they would stay or not, and you know she was in fucking agony while she waited for him to decide. She was so fucking afraid she was going to tip her hand that she wanted to stay, and she begged me to talk to Henry and keep reminding him that it was HIS choice to make. And when I told her that Henry was asking about what it was like for me when my mom wanted to move back to America? And when I was stupid enough to be honest and tell her that Henry was asking me how I dealt with protecting my mom when she was trying to protect me? Fuck, Bastien. It was horrible to see Rinda in so much pain.”

Bastien closed his eyes, feeling his chest tighten as he listened to Drake tell him how badly Rinda was hurting. Bastien knew it, but really, he had no idea. His Tria . . . But Drake was still talking. There was more.

“And she told me this earlier in the year, after we first met. So I don’t know what’s going on with you two now. She always respects your privacy, Bastien. But she told me that she couldn’t date because she wants Henry to be ready for that step. And she won’t date a guy unless Henry likes him, but she also won’t introduce him to a guy because she doesn’t want to confuse him by introducing a potential dad figure in his life who may not work out.” Suddenly Drake gave an eerie laugh. “Oh, God. I remember I actually joked with her about setting up a Tinder account. And even though we laughed about it, she told me that she could never use a dating service. She knows having a child is something you have to disclose pretty early on, but that would be a predator’s wet dream. To pose as a  . . . Shit. That’s why she’s been talking about internet safety . . .” Drake trailed off for a moment, deep in thought, and Bastien waited for Drake to continue.

“Bastien, it may look like she’s moving forward, but she’s not. She can’t. It’s going to be better now that she’s staying in Cordonia. But otherwise she’s stuck in this holding pattern with all these Catch-22 situations and backup plans, and she knows life is passing her by. She just. Fuck. She told me that she just wishes time could stop so she could catch up. Or that someone would just be patient and wait for her. She’s terrified that she’ll make the wrong decision with Henry and let him down again.”

Drake was frantically running his hand through his hair and he suddenly caught himself and blushed. He grabbed another glass and poured himself another drink, offering the bottle to Bastien.

“Drake, how do you know all of this? And why would she think that she’s letting Henry down? She’s an amazing mother.”

“Look, that first weekend that we met we got drunk and just started talking about stuff and the next day I thought it was pretty amazing that she swam back to shore with me when we went fishing. Then she found out about my dad, and how you thought I could help Henry. Well, you know Rinda. Being part of a team and all that. She’s been really great. I know it’s strange to say she’s been like a mom to me, but maybe like an aunt to me? I don’t know. But she’s also talked to me a lot about ways she can help Henry, and she’s really afraid of letting him down again. You know. When she stayed with Jameson’s body in the school when she should have been with Henry. She’s . . . that decision is always going to haunt her, even though it probably would have been a lot worse if Henry had seen her like that.”

Suddenly Drake looked at Bastien. “Describe Vivian to me.”

“What?”

“Don’t fuck with me, Bastien. Describe her.”

“She’s tall, about 5’10”. Slender build but still curvy, Dark eyes. Dark hair.” Drake kept staring. “Okay, she’s got legs that don’t stop. Huge . . .” Drake arched an eyebrow. “Breasts. Okay? Rinda would joke that they’re made for motorboating.” Drake leaned back in his chair but didn’t say anything. “She’s got long, dark hair that you just want to run your fingers through. Wrap around your hands so you can pull her head back. Is that what you want to hear? Physically, she’s totally my type. And she even loves football.”

“Okay, now describe Rinda.”

“What the fuck, Drake? This isn’t a Friends episode. You don’t compare . . .”

“Yes, Bastien. You do. We all do. Women do too. Why do you think I’m such a fucking insecure mess when it comes to dating? Riley choosing Liam didn’t help. Now describe Rinda.”

Bastien ran his hand through his hair and sighed. “She’s funny. She has the most inappropriate sense of humor. And she’s tough. And brave. And compassionate. An amazing mom. Friendly. She just lights up the room, you know? And her laugh. I once told her that she’s everything and not to ever forget it. Because she is.” Bastien suddenly stopped. “Why?”

“Rinda is all those things, and more. But she’s still . . . Rinda. That loveable insecure mess who can’t order a fucking meal to save her life. Who is a total football disaster. Who questions every parenting decision she makes. Who rambles. She hates how short she is. She thinks she’s overweight because she isn’t as thin as she was before having a kid. She thinks her hair is a troll doll rat’s nest, and she always wears it up because she can’t do anything with it. And you didn’t even mention her looks when you described her. Not one thing about her eyes, hair, smile, body. Nothing, Bastien.”

“I love her hair. I tease her about it, but I’ve told her that I love it. She has beautiful hazel eyes. I can tell what she’s feeling because I can see how her eyes change colors. She knows that. And I love Rinda because she’s . . . her.”

Now Drake leaned in. “But have you ever told her that she’s beautiful? Or that you love her? That she’s more than just a mother or great teacher? Reassured her that it’s okay she’s her—even with the stuff she hates about herself?” He saw the panic in Bastien’s eyes. “I can’t believe I ever got dating advice from you. No wonder I’m still single. No wonder you are, too.” Bastien winced. “Bastien, think about it from Rinda’s perspective. Vivian is the opposite of her in every way possible, and it’s no secret you could have Vivian if you wanted her. Do you know how shitty and inadequate that must make Rinda feel? And Vivian has already moved on since her divorce—a lot. But for Rinda it’s different. She doesn’t even have to say it. You know she hasn’t . . . since Jameson died. She needs to get to know someone really well first, and she knows no one will wait for that, either.” He flushed. “I went too far. I shouldn’t have said anything about that. It’s too personal and I’m sorry I crossed that line. But . . . I get her, Bastien. I get what it’s like to think you aren’t good enough for someone. And Rinda’s been trying to help me with that, and it’s partly because she’s the same way. She doesn’t want me to be a mess like she is. Fuck. Just never mind. Just forget I said any of this. Seriously. There’s some sad stuff going on at school, and I’ve been drinking too much trying to forget it. I don’t know how Rinda and Laura deal with the shit they see every day. I don’t know how you were able to handle it. I’ve only been there a week and I’m already seeing shit that I wish I could forget. And I’m sorry what I said about my mom and Riley. That was out of line. I’m sorry. Just. Go away and let me drink in peace.”

[jestbee]

Ships that pass in the night (Chapter Seventeen)

Title: Ships that Pass in the Night (Chapter Sixteen)

Tags: Alternate Timeline, AU, Slow burn, strangers to friends, friends to lovers Words: 5k Summary: Dan and Phil are YouTubers. The catch? They’ve never met, and Phil doesn’t want them to

Author’s Note: So this could be the final chapter. The story is pretty much wrapped up but I'm going to do a final epilogue chapter with a little smut and some general fluffy bits set a little ways in the future, but if that isn't your thing you don't need to read it in order to get the story. It won't have any more like 'plot' points. Thank you for sticking with me, thank you for voting for this in the 'Universe Augmentation' Phanfic Award 2017 that it won!!

[AO3 Link]   [Tumblr Masterpost]  

He rings his mum on the way back. He feels more awake than he has done for a while and he still has all of the Charlie stuff in his head which means there are now so many things he needs to do, so many things he needs to face up to that he might not be ready for. The least he can do is keep his promise to call.

"Child," she says, customarily.

"Hi mum."

"You sound like you're outside, are you outside?"

"I'm on my way back from seeing PJ," he says, "I told you I would."

There's a clinking sound on the other end and he can imagine her sat at their kitchen table with a warm mug in her hands. He suddenly has a pang of homesickness he wasn't ready for. At times like these it would be nice to have his mum, to give her a hug and make everything else go away like he had when he was little. But his mum can't fight his battles for him anymore, she can't stand up against the demons in his own head, only he can do that.

"Oh Phil. I'm glad."

He hums into the phone and pauses at the top of the stairs to the underground because he'll lose signal if he goes down.

"Are you ready to talk about it?" She asks. Always so careful, always tiptoeing around the conversation. He hates that she needs to do that.

He sighs, mostly to himself.

"It's… complicated."

"Of course it is. I wouldn't expect you to get mixed up over something that wasn't. I know you have… you feel things strongly, but you're not one for getting worked up over nothing."

He bites his bottom lip because that makes something heavy rise in his throat.

"Thanks mum."

"Are you sure you don't want to come home?"

"No… no I think I need to talk to… well, to Dan."

"Dan."

"Yes."

"I see…" she pauses, just for a second, but he hears it. "Well it's good you have a friend."

"Mum."

She knows better than that. She must. But she's giving him room for denial, which is nice. But also another one of those things he wishes she didn't have to do.

She hums down the phone. "I know love, just… be careful."

"I am."

Be careful he isn't the same. Be careful you don't react the same way. Be careful. Be careful. He's been careful, perhaps too careful given how things have worked out. Sometimes you need to take a leap of faith. Like replying to a tweet, or grabbing a coffee, or saying yes to a project. If he doesn't, if he keeps playing it safe and secluded over and over he'll look back and he and Dan will have passed by each other. Like ships that pass in the night he will be merely a story of something that once happened to Phil a long time ago. And Phil isn't sure he wants go settle for that anymore.

"I've got to go," he says, "I…"

"Do what you have to, love."

He says goodbye and finally hangs up. He heads into the underground, shoulders squared and feeling lighter than he has in days. He has hope, buoyant and beautiful hope.

-

The idea comes to him when he's finally checking his emails. There's one from a radio producer at the BBC finalising his booking to appear on the radio show. Dan's radio show.

It isn't ideal, and of course he doesn't expect everything to be fixed at Dan's workplace but it's a first step. A show of willing.

He responds with his confirmation and that's that.

-

The BBC building is all glass. It reflects the sun and the revolving door moves too fast so that he almost gets stuck in it but the lobby is cool and echoing and the visitor badge around his neck makes him feel a little important.

He's amazed that the nerves don't get to him until he's in the lift. He's been riding the adrenaline before this, but it wears out once he follows the girl with the short spiky ponytail down the corridor. They go through a room filled with mismatched sofas and then a sound room with amps he recognises as the live lounge and then they're there. In front of a desk that has hundreds of buttons and dials and lights, engineers in headphones moving them in unison and then--

Dan. On the other side. Head dipped low over his laptop, fringe swinging into his eyes. It takes everything in Phil not to rush through the people, pole vault over the complicated desk, stand amidst the strange array of drawings and posters and celebrity face masks and say-- what?

Something Phil. Think. How has he got this far without knowing what he's going to say?

"Howell," the woman is saying. "Your guest is here."

Dan looks up, slightly confused for a second before their eyes lock. Phil sees the back of his jaw clench, the way his lips purse slightly throwing an annoyed dimple into relief on his cheek.

"Thanks Ros," he says. "I've got it."

Dan comes around the desk. Expertly dodging cables Phil knows he's going to trip on and finally they're face to face. He doesn't look mad, he doesn't look much of anything. His face, the one Phil has grown to know so well, is shockingly blank.

"I didn't think you'd come," Dan says.

"I... " Phil starts, but he still has no idea what to say.

"Come on," Dan says, moving past him but making sure they don't touch. Phil aches. "We've got a half hour, I know where we can get… snacks."

He doesn't say coffee. Phil doesn't get coffee with Dan anymore. That makes him much sadder than it has any right to for something so small.

If he's going to feel this way about anything it should be the way Dan avoids his eyes, or how they walk with a considerable distance between them in the corridors. How everything is different. How much he misses how it used to be. How he doesn't know how to bring up everything that's happened. Where does he even start?

Dan brings them to a vending machine tucked into the corner of a dim grey room, a sofa shoved against a wall and a table with music magazines spread on top of it. There's a coffee machine and a sink but the room looks less polished and modern than the rest of the building.

Dan faces the vending machine and looks at it with a knot in the middle of his brows. His eyes are hard and Phil thinks that the expression is probably for him, rather than the snacks within.

"So… how have you been?"

Dan cocks his head and doesn't meet his eyes. "Fine."

"Good. That's… good.

Phil swallows and feels his tongue thick and cumbersome in his mouth, he can barely speak around how dry his lips feel, how alien the sounds fit behind his teeth.

"I didn't think you'd come," Dan says.

He sounds sad. Phil hates that he sounds sad.

"I… wanted to." it's all he can think to say. "I wanted to talk to you."

"Ha!"

"What?"

"Now you want to talk?" Dan turns, shifting on his heel until he's facing Phil. He looks mad. "You don't just get to pick and choose when you want to talk to me and when you don't. I deserve better than that."

Phil looks down at his shoes, fighting the urge to run away and escape the conversation. He needs to stay, he needs to get some of this out or it will eat at him.

"I know," he says to his Vans, "You do. I just… I didn't--"

He stops, because despite everything he still doesn't know where to start.

Dan sighs and Phil can hear the frustration in it.

"I spoke to Tyler. And Cat. They told me what they said…"

Phil looks up and Dan is staring at him hard.

"You know it's all bullshit, right? They said some shit to me about you ages ago, when I wouldn't stop going on about you." Dan looks sheepish at this. "It was just some dumb joke about hooking up with you for views and… honestly, it never really crossed my mind afterwards. I forgot they even said it once I actually... I should have told them to fuck off when they said it but it was so ludicrous to me that I would even meet you that I… you know… just forgot."

Phil nods, quick and jerky.

"Okay, yeah, I'm stupid I didn't… I'm not sure I ever really…" he lets his shoulders drop from where they've been drawn up, letting the relief flood through him.

He'd pretty much decided that in light of everything that Dan has said to Charlie, how he defended him to his own detriment, that even if Dan had started out wanting to spend time with him for some sort of popularity gain, his feelings must have changed a little. Despite that, it's still nice to hear Dan say out loud that it wasn't like that at all. And Phil can let himself believe it, for once.

"You were right," he says finally, "I was just scared. I don't think I ever really believed it."

Dan bites his bottom lip, chewing a bit on it, the pink flesh turning white. "Last time we spoke you were convinced. What changed your mind, Phil? Why are you here?"

Phil blows out air, makes space for what comes next in his body, like deflating.

"I think I owe you an explanation. For… well, for everything."

Dan's brows lift a little at that, like he's surprised.

"I know," Phil says, forcing a bit of a laugh overtop of his awkwardness, "I don't… I'm not good at doing that. But I want to be… when it comes to you. With you I want to be better."

Dan nods, just once and then beckons him to follow as he makes his way over to the small, beat up couch. He flops down onto it and Phil follows suit, perching on the opposite cushion, suspended and uncomfortable.

"Take your time," Dan says, with far more patience than he has any right to have at this moment.

Phil shakes his head, he had no idea how Dan is like this, how he isn't screaming at Phil to just get on with it. But there he is, all restrained and not pushing him, sitting, waiting, calm and collected. It makes everything crazily zipping around Phil's chest calm, like a flock of birds haphazardly flapping come to a stop, settling in rows.

"So… PJ showed me… um, the things. On Twitter."

"On Twitter?"

Phil nods a little. "Hm, Ch-charlie. The… stuff he's been saying."

"Oh." Dan's mouth purses a little, going tight at the corners. His nostril flare, just ever so slightly. He doesn't look happy. "I didn't realise you didn't know about that."

"I blocked him ages ago."

Phil puts one hand in the other in his lap, squeezing fingers around his palm. He fidgets, nervously. This is difficult, moreso than he'd thought it would be.

"I… I'm not used to talking about this," he says, "I haven't. Not since…"

Dan reaches over and Phil watches his slide his fingers overtop of his, stilling them where he's squeezing over and over. Phil marvels at him, he has every right to stay mad at him, but here he is offering comfort like he always does.

"You don't have to," he whispers.

"I do," Phil insists, not knowing what to do with all of Dan's wonderful patience. "I do. I... "

Phil shifts, turns in his seat until his body is angled towards Dan's. Dan doesn't move his hand, just slips his fingers between Phil's so that they're holding hands. It's a small thing, but it's enough to ground him.

"I had anxiety issues long before I met him," he starts, "I won't credit him with being the be-all-and-end-all of my issues. He doesn't get to claim that."

Dan swipes his thumb over Phil's knuckles. Phil looks down, stunned by the small gesture against his skin, focussing on that instead of on the way his hand is shaking under Dan's palm.

"But I thought I’d found someone who loved me in spite of those issues," Phil croaks, his voice cracking over the words, caught around something in his throat pushing upwards."I thought… It's so stupid, I thought he realised they were a part of me and loved me anyway. But… that's not… he didn't. It's too much. I can understand why."

"I can't," Dan says, "I can't understand that at all. You are not your issues, Phil, but they are a part of who you are. You don't need to be loved in spite of them, you should be loved because of them, including them, because you feel things deeply doesn't mean you're damaged."

Phil looks up, into Dan's serious, sincere expression and he wants to tell him just how much that means, what it is to have someone like Dan telling him these things. How desperately he wants to believe them but how that tiny voice in his head reminds him that they can't possibly be true, or that Dan means them now but won't once he finally sees… once he knows the full extent.

"I think if I’d had someone say that back then… Or had someone who asked me how I am before going into parties or acknowledging when my head gets loud… things might have ended up differently."

"I wish I'd known you then."

Phil closes his eyes and concentrates on Dan's thumb going back and forth over his hand.

"Me too."

"I did…" Dan says, "A bit. I was… well, I was watching your videos at least."

Phil sighs, a little groan escaping him as he thinks of what Dan must have seen, of how it all went down out there in public. How can Dan be sat here now if he saw everything?

"You…"

"I'd like to hear your side of it," Dan says, guessing what it is that is tormenting him. "I never… there was always more to it."

"There was." Phil's voice is tiny, shoved inside of him in that place where he keeps everything. It's cracking open, like something pressured finally released. "He played my insecurities. He… He knew. I told him what I felt like sometimes and he used that to keep me secluded and in the dark about everything that was going on. He said he was trying to push me, to get me to face up to things, but he just didn’t care."

"He was always so... "

"Public," Phil supplies. "Everything was out in the open, and I was just never… comfortable with that. I want to keep it between us, it was personal, you know? Our relationship. But he was so intent on...parading it everywhere."

"I think we all know why."

Phil nods. "Exactly. He used me, Dan. He put our relationship everywhere so that he could be associated with me. I wasn't even… I didn't have like, loads of subscribers then but… YouTube was different. I knew alot of people, we were friends… Charlie never really fit in with all of that. I think there are some people that just shouldn't be online, like in the public space… he's one of them. But he wanted it so much, more than anything else, and he used me to... to…"

Dan slides a little, shuffling up next to him, pressing their hips together. Their hands are still clasped but he's close now. So close Phil can smell the scent of his cologne.

"I just wanted to keep it private," Phil says again, "I didn't know… I was confused. About like, boys and not being straight and navigating the whole… comment section wanting to know my business. You know? But he… he didn't want that."

"Phil…"

"He wanted me to be different," Phil says, his voice a little thick but he's holding on. The warmth from Dan is helping, the rhythmic back and forth of his thumb on his knuckles and the press of his body against his side. This is comfort. This is what he's needed. It hurts, to let it out, to put forth something he's been keeping hidden for all this time. Fear that he wouldn't be understood. "When I didn't want to go along with it, when I had… bad days He thought I could just snap out of it and when I couldn’t he decided I wasn’t worth it, even if it did mean good things for his channel. In the end… he got what he wanted and then moved on."

"I remember… it was just as I started YouTube," Dan says, "I'd been tweeting you alot by then."

Phil nods. "I know that now. I wish… God I wish it had been different. That I'd have seen that or something. But… there was a lot of other stuff going on. I might have seen it, I like to think I'd have seen it. If... you know, everything else hadn't been happening"

"You split up with him."

"Did I?" Phil asks, "That definitely the way he tells it. He spun the story of the victim, like I’d strung him along and was some pompous stuck up big youtuber that hated everyone. He made out like he was the one that had wanted to keep it quiet, but that I'd wanted to… that I made him put it all out in the open. I can't even remember anymore, whether it was me or him. I like to think I did do it, that I did finally break free… but I don't really know."

Phil runs a hand through his hair, dragged his fingers out from between Dan's and standing up. He paces, back and forth in front of the couch, needing to move, to work of some of the rising shake he can feel. It rattles in his chest, his heart beating, pulse pounding in his ears.

"He honestly made it seem like he was the victim, the things he said… the… it was... " he breath in, quick and hard and he squeezes his eyes shuts because he's starting to panic. He can feel it. He has to do this, he has to push through.

Dan rises to his feet, catches his as he walks by, pulling and tugging until Phil is cradled against his chest. His face buried in Dan's shoulder, Dan's large hand smoothing up and down his back.

He feels pathetic. It's just a breakup, something people go through every day. But he knows that his anxiety means his reacts differently, he's heard people tell him time and time again that his reaction is valid. Because Charlie had essentially fucked with his entire career, his whole life, all of his friends. So many of them believed him, he lost a lot of people. But it's hard for Phil to rationalise that when he's feeling small and silly and like he's overacting even though he can't help the way his breath comes in spurts, all bound up in his lungs, sporadic and laboured.

"It's okay…" he says, low in his ear. "I've got you. I know… I saw… it's okay. It's over."

"It was easier to go along with it," Phil sobs, "because then at least I wouldn’t get hurt. At least then… by then I just wanted it over. I didn't want YouTube or anything. It was a really… a really…"

"Shhh," Dan soothes. He flutters a hand to Phil's cheek, lifting to press their foreheads together. "It's okay."

"It was a bad time. I… didn't come out of it very well."

"You disappeared," Dan says. "For a little while."

Phil reaches out, folds his arms around Dan's waist and pulls him close, liking the nearness of him, the familiar shape of him, when he feels like this. His heartbeat is slowing, a little, bit by bit.

"I wanted to quit completely. Some stuff… happened."

"Do you want to…"

"Yes," Phil insists. "I want to tell you all of it. I don't want anything… all of it. I need you to know."

Dan pauses, runs his thumb across Phil's cheekbone. "Can I kiss you? I want to… but not if you're… I don't want to make it worse."

Phil nods, leans forward, bring their mouths together. It's fleeting, a tiny fluttery thing across Phil's lips. He feels himself reset a little. Dan isn't magic, he can't kiss away Phil's panic attack but it does give Phil something to focus on, and it's reassuring to know that Dan is still here. After all of this, after hearing most of it, he's still here.

"When you're ready," Dan says.

"I just… it was stupid. It sounds a lot worse than it was." He pulls away a little bit, needing space to tell his story. Dan lets him go. "I just had some bad days right after. I tried to stay off Twitter and away from what everyone was saying but… it was harder than I thought it would be. I just… went to bed. Honestly, that's all it was I was just so tired of everything, it felt like the world was too bright and too loud and wherever I went there was just… noise. People attacking me. So I went to bed. For about a week."

Dan nods, clearly a little perplexed.

"I didn't eat," Phil clarifies, "I barely drank water I got… I went to bed but I didn't sleep. I was dehydrated and exhausted and having a kind of extended panic attack. Eventually my parents got too worried and ended up taking me to A & E. I guess I was pretty out of it because they admitted me, just a for a little bit while they gave me some fluids and stuff. I wasn't like… crazy or suicidal or… you know, I was… lucky. But it wasn't… good."

"Phil…" Dan says, reaching for him again before deciding not to. "Sorry. God, I'm so sorry that happened to you… I… it's so stupid but I wish I'd been around to… Have you been… since we… I mean... "

"A bit," Phil nods. He isn't going to lie to Dan now. "But I have… while I was at the hospital they had people I talked to. I learned, some stuff. I'm not always the best at remembering but I have… like PJ and my mum and stuff. They know. So they're good about…"

"Would… Could I…" Dan tips his head a little to the side, "I want to help. I want to be there for you like that."

"You're already really great at it," Phil says, "You don't need to do any more than you already do. I don't want to be like a… full time job for people. I don't want you to be... "

"I want to," Dan says, simply.

Phil just looks at him for a moment, shaking his head. "Where did you come from Dan Howell?"

Dan smiles, a bit, Phil watches it unfolding on his face the way that it does, lighting it up until he's glowing.

"Nowhere special."

Phil can't believe that.

"I was… after the hospital I had all these systems in place to function. They weren't the healthiest and I'm sure the people I talked to there wouldn't have recommended them as they mostly entailed keeping everyone and everything at arm's length but… it meant I could rejoin the world a little bit. I could exist in it anyway. I could make videos and talk to my audience, as long as it was all on my terms, as long as I didn't interact too much."

Phil shrugs a tiny smile of his own appearing. He feels a little lighter, and his heart rate is back to normal. He can feel it all like a weight lifted off his chest, he can breathe again.

"Then you came along. And… I couldn't… I tried. God, I tried. But you were something else, Dan. I couldn't help myself. It just got, messy. Because I didn't… I still don't… know how to deal with all of this like a grown up. I'm not… equipped to deal with how I feel about you."

"And how do you feel about me?" Dan asks.

"Dan…"

"It was real, Phil. I don't care what Charlie says, or what the stupid voice in your head has to say. It was real."

"I know. I was happy."

"Me too. You have no idea how happy I was. Can't we just be happy, Phil? Please?"

He wishes it were that simple. He wishes they could just draw a line under everything and go back to how things were before, but it would never be that easy. It can't be.

"There will always be Twitter, and viewers, and people shipping. I'm never going to want to put it all out there, I'm always going to want to… hide."

Dan shakes his head and for a terrifying moment Phil knows that this is it, this is the moment that Dan walks away. He wouldn't blame him.

"Phil, I'll never fucking Tweet again if that's what you want. You think any of that matters to me more than you do?"

"Don't be absurd."

"Okay, okay. That's extreme… but the sentiment is the same. Phil… I don't want people all up in my business either. If you don't want me to mention you at all, or if as far as the world is concerned we're just best friends, then that's fine with me. I mean, if that was all you actually ever wanted from me, I'd be fine with that too. I just care about you. Alot. I don't want to lose you."

"I don't want to lose you either," Phil says, "And I don't want you to have to like, lie. I just… If we were going to… I want to keep it to us."

"I understand that, and I… I never want to do anything that makes you uncomfortable."

"I'm probably never going to be okay," Phil warns, "I'll always be… like this."

"Phil," Dan moves towards him, folding his arms around Phil's waist and pulling him close once again. He's been in and out of Dan's space today but he slides his hands up Dan's arms, over the curve of his bicep and on to his shoulders. He feels settled here, safe. "I don't want you to be anyone you're not. I only… I mean, I just hope that you talk to me. Just… I want to be there for you."

"And if it gets too much for you?"

Dan shakes his head. "I promise I'll talk to you too. I'll tell you when I need space, and you tell me when you need help, or you need space too. Can… I don't want to push you. I really want this to work. But I think… it'll probably only work if we actually talk to each other about this stuff. Not talking is what got us in trouble in the first place. Can you do that? Do you think it's… is that okay?"

It's scary. The prospect of staying this open. Of leaving this place and not closing down that piece of him again, not crawling in to his bed and saying goodbye to world, but remaining a part of it. This is what it means, to care for someone the way he does Dan, to let them in, to be vulnerable. Dan's eyes are warm and they don't demand an answer, Phil knows he could step out of Dan's arms right now and Dan would let him go. He doesn't want to.

"It's okay,I can do that." Phil says. "You know… no one has wanted me for me before."

"I do," Dan say.

"Yeah," Phil nods, "I think… I know. I believe it."

He huffs out a laugh, incredulous at himself. He does. He really believes it.

"I want you too," he says to Dan. "Let's just be happy."

"Okay," Dan smiles and leans in, only half way, waiting for Phil. "Let's be happy."

Phil lets the world shift a bit to accommodate the new way of things, feels the himself smile and lean in, meeting him in the middle.

Dan's lips are soft and welcoming. Phil sighs into his mouth and Dan lets his tongue flick out against the join of his lips. He parts to let him in, tipping his head and moving closer, lifting a hand up to the back of Dan's neck, holding him there. He can feel the way Dan's hand presses against the base of his spine, the warmth of his broad palm seeping through his shirt.

There is a vibration on Phil's hip and they part, Dan laughing.

"Shit," he says, "It's my phone."

"Anyone important?"

"Fuck, Phil! The show! We forgot about the show."

Phil's eyes go wide. He'd been so busy baring his soul that he'd forgotten they were there to do the radio show.

"We have to get upstairs, I mean we have time but they're… we have to go now. I'm sorry."

Phil laughs, "That's okay."

"Will you… after the show. Come back to mine?"

Phil nods. "Yeah, I'd like that."

"I'm glad I met you," Dan says, moving toward the door. "You know, finally. It was getting a little ridiculous that we kept nearly-meeting."

Phil follows him out of the door. "I'm glad too," he says, "but… what if we hadn't?"

Dan holds his hand out and Phil doesn't hesitate to take it, slipping his fingers in between Dan's as they walk the halls. He does drop it as they enter the studio, but they share a warm fond look as he does and Phil knows Dan is okay with him wanting to keep it just to them. He won't push Phil past the point that he's comfortable with. He doesn't know if it will always be that way, but it's what he needs for now.

"I wouldn't have let that happen," Dan says as they get ready to go on air, "I'd have met you eventually."

"Yeah?" Phil says, "We wouldn't just have been ships passing in the night forever?"

"Definitely not," Dan says, "It would have happened. At some point."

And somehow, Phil believes him.

[arcadefloorvibes]

Dear Tumblr

Alright, I’ve been meaning to write this for ages (literally a month) because tumblr wouldn’t let me post this on mobile so now I’m posting this from my laptop

Now, the main reason I announced what was going on with Laurie is because 1) I felt like since you guys have been with me for most of that journey, I should let you know when it ends

And 2) because there’s a really cute guy at my home-school meet up and I’m going to die.

To explain, me and a few of my friends attend a monthly roller-skating event with a bunch of other home schoolers, it’s great, it’s fun, I personally freaking love roller-skating so this whole thing sounded awesome to me

And I’d been to the place since it’s the only goddamn roller-skating rink that isn’t 5 hours away (I wish I was kidding)

This is a long one guys, buckle up

So, we rock up and in my head I did the same thing that happened with Laurie,

“Hey Jordaaaaaan” the stupid romantic part of me said “what if…. You get a datemate here…. In a veeeeeeeeery fanfic fluff scenario place??????? HMMMMMMMMMMMMM???????”

And I’m like “no brain very unlikely”

Which is also what I thought when I met Laurie.

So, we’re waiting outside, eager to go and skate and I start examining the potential datemate candidates.

Because I’m a lonely pan that just wants a FUCKING DATE

Plus, the last mass group meeting thing I did, I didn’t know I was pan. So that meant everyone was an option

I tap my friend who I have mentioned before as BTSfan or if you watch my YT videos you’ll soon find out her name, (I’m not saying it here because I don’t know if she’s cool with her name on tumblr, but you know who you are), and I’m like “Is that (Name of other friend who we haven’t seen in ages and TBH isn’t exactly relevant in this but it makes sense later why I’m mentioning him)” and she’s like “Holy shit, he’s way taller now” and we start talking to him and being like “hey HOLY SHIT YOU’RE TALL” and I stop looking for datemate candidates.

Thank god.

If I noticed the guy I’m about to mention now, I would have died on the spot.

So, we go in and I realise out of the friend group I’m in, four of us, I’M THE ONLY ONE THAT KNOWS HOW TO SKATE

So, I skate on roller-skates because I feel safer on them and I actually own those white 90’s looking ones

Not joking I own this exact pair, fuck rollerblades I’m out here looking old school AF

So, I don’t really know how to teach rollerblades, thankfully my friend BTSfan and her sister Prettyfriend’s mom knew how to skate rollerblades so she taught Prettyfriend and Tallfriend how to do that while I taught BTSfan

And thennnnnnnnn

Cuteboy appeared

Cuteboy (I swear to god I’m obsessed) was wearing like a sans jacket but it looked like denim

Like imagine this but denim

That’s what he was wearing

And I was like HOLY SHIT HE’S REALLY CUTE

And I tap my friend and I’m like “Not to freak you out, but there is a REALLY CUTE GUY SKATING BY US” and she looks at him and literally says “OKAY WOW”

And then he did the most amazing thing that probably isn’t that amazing to people who roller-skate a lot but to a pretty much casual skater this was amazing to me

He skated a FUCKING CROSS STEP TURN

I’M NOT FUCKING KIDDING

I WAS LOSING MY MIND

AND MY FRIEND WAS LOSING HER MIND

AND WE WERE LIKE HOLY SHIT THAT WAS AWESOME!!!!!!!!!!

So, for the whole hour we were there I stared at this boy CONSTANTLY like he would skate past and I would just stop and stare at him until BTSfan was like “Uhhhh Jordan! You’re drifting off!” I would drift away from her, I nearly crashed into a wall, I WOULD NOT STOP STARING AT THIS BOY

I started trying to build up the courage to ask for his name because either I wanted his name or for him to know his cross step looks FUCKING AWESOME

And I just couldn’t ask him, I couldn’t say anything

Then BTSfan needed a break halfway through, (Understandable we’d been skating for half an hour straight and she was a newbie), so I started skating on my own

God, I missed the feeling of just skating

When we did that session in November, I hadn’t skated since January, I hadn’t skated on a driveway, a tennis court, nothing

And it just felt really nice to skate again

Plus, I got to dance skate and dear GOD I MISSED THAT SO MUCH

Dance skating is basically me skating to the tune of the music.

On tennis courts that’s really hard to do, so being on a smooth concrete surface made me move really fast.

And then Cuteboy skated past me at one point and was like fiVE CENTIMETRES AWAY FROM MY ARM

AND THEN I REALISED HE WASN’T WEARING THE JACKET

HE WASN’T WEARING THE JACKET

HE WAS WEARING A CAMO T SHIRT

I WENT INTO FUCKING PANIC MODE

I skated over to BTSfan and just whispered “HE’S NOT WEARING THE JACKET” and she was like “I wondered when you’d notice, are you okay?”

“NO, I'M GOING TO HAVE A HEART ATTACK”

And she was like “do you want me to take a photo?” and I'm like “No, RESPECT PRIVACY” and she’s like “OKaaaaaaaaaaaay” and then I get back to dying

LAURIE WAS NOTHING LIKE THIS

AT ALL

Laurie was cute and he’s still going to have a place in my heart, but my emotions toward him more like extreme butterflies

One thing I say a lot when it comes to my crushes is that I can easily talk to them, meaning they have no clue I like them.

IF THIS BOY HASN’T NOTICED HE IS EXTREMELY BLIND I NEVER BLUSH THIS MUCH

Like I’d look at him, and just—

Everything speeds up and I struggle breathing and just

WHAT IS WITH ME

But then, unfortunately

Time ran out

And I wouldn’t see him for another month

So, I’m taking off my skates, hoping to see him and be like “Hey your cross step looked awesome” but he doesn’t show up.

Because he left the rink through the other gate not facing me to return the skates he borrowed from the rink.

I only know this because afterwards I saw him and my friends talking to him.

Well more specifically, Prettyfriend because she knows how to socialise and talk to other human beings

I know I found one of those “extroverts” I’m amazing

And then just as I’m admiring how fuCKING PRETTY THIS BOY IS

BTSfan comes running over

And I’m like “are you okay—” “I have just done God’s work”

And I’m like ????

“his name is Edward”

Not his real name but equally beautiful

I immediately hug her “I love you and you’re the greatest human being on this planet and don’t you dare think otherwise”

I mean I normally say those things to her but like this was a joyous moment

So, I go over with her to where our other friends are taking off their skates when Cuteboy has to leave

He waves at us and says bye and I inSTINCTIVELY WAVE AND SAY BYE BACK BECAUSE I’M A PERSON WHO’S ETERNALLY AFRAID OF BEING RUDE

He leaves and I just realised that’s the first time I spoke to him

And heard his voice

And I’m just going red and just processing this

“Jordan are you okay?” Prettyfriend totally knew already, “I don’t know” I reply bringing my hands in the fucking anime pose of covering blush

 LIKE EXACTLY THIS 

And so ends the november Rollerskating session

It was when I checked instagram later I realised I left a pretty gaping loophole for BTSfan

I said I didn’t want her to take photos of him for me

I forgot she thought he was cute too

So I open up the tagged photo of all the selfies and right at the end there is a small 20 second video of him skating

I LOST MY MIND

Not in anger at what she did, she had said earlier she has a bit of a stalker side

But more of

HOLY SHIT I CAN LOOK AT HIM WHENEVER I WANT

So yeah

That was the first Rollerskating session

Now you’re probably wondering “why do you wait a month to post this, you said you’d do it after a week!”

Yes I know.

But then before I knew it the december session arrived

Which as I’m writing this at 11pm it is the day of

AND I'M ACTUALLY GOING TO DIE

I JUST

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

Alright a bit of backstory on this,

1)      When the video I recorded with BTSfan comes out everything we talked about at the end of the recording will have already happened

2)      BTSfan was dared by another friend to either use a pickup line on one of the guys there OR ask them to brush her hair which is how her parents met

So…

She was really nervous about it and she was like

“If I do that dare, you have to at least say hi to Edward, I don’t care if that’s all you say and then leave, just say hi to him”

And so that was what I set off to do

And holy shit did I FAIL THAT TASK

What I didn’t expect was that 1) I would really miss him after a month and 2)

I HAVE LIKE A SENSOR ON HIM

We walk in a bit late and BTSfan is like “I wonder if he’s here” and I’m like “No, he’s here.”

WE HAVEN’T EVEN PAID ENTRANCE YET, CAN BARELY SEE THE RINK AND I ALREADY DEFINITELY KNOW HE’S HERE

AND I WAS FUCKING RIGHT TOO

This also happens later when we’re playing a game the roller rink people set up and there’s like 30 people on the rink.

I get eliminated and go sit next to BTSfan who realised that rollerblading actually hurts your feet more

“Is he still in the game?” “Yeah.” “how do you know?” and then without looking told her exactly where on the rink he was standing (the game was like musical chairs) She looks behind me and I'M RIGHT

“I DIDN’T EXPECT YOU TO ACTUALLY KNOW!”

“WAIT WHAT??” I was shocked at myself tbh

But my mission was to talk to him

And goddamn it I couldn’t do it

If you guys have seen that one OZMAFIA episode on my channel where Kyrie finally confesses to us and I have to read out that line IT WAS LIKE THAT BUT IN REAL LIFE

I JUST HAD TO SAY HI ITS NOT THAT FUCKING HARD

I would get the word, make my voice get ready to say it, sense where he was, time it, see him and—

The words die in my throat

Wonderful Jordan fucking brilliant

BTW BTSfan did ask a boy to brush her hair and it WORKED???? Like, he accepted. And then it got awkward and my friend never talked to him again but hey she did it! and she’s shyer than me!

I JUST HAD TO SAY HI

NOT

THAT

FUCKING

HARD

So, it gets to a point, where I tell BTSfan “okay I don’t think I’m going to do this, physically,” and then……

At the worst

And I mean the worst possible timing ever

He destroyed any possible chance that I would be able to say hi to him

God I’m blushing thinking about it

Okay

So, he’s doing his cross-turn thing

And I of course go and look at him

And its when I realise he’s blocked by a bunch of small children

He has only one direction to go

Which is the wall

Its’ safe and he won’t run over children

What he would do is crash into ME

LIKE

I noticed this and started to move out the way, but the children blocked ME

AND SO HE CRASHED INTO ME DOING A FUCKING KABEDON

EXCEPT WAY MORE AWKWARD AND LIKE CRASHING INTO ME

SPECIFICALLY PUTTING HIS HANDS ON MY WAIST IN AN ATTEMPT TO MOVE ME (didn’t work)

HE JUST SAYS “sorry, are you okay?” AND I’M LIKE “yeah I’m fine” AND SKATES OFF NOT REALISING THE EMOTIONAL TRAIN WRECK HE JUST PUT ME THROUGH

And BTSfan is like “are you okay?” I knew she meant physically because you know someone just crashed into me

BUT AT THAT POINT I WAS JUST FREAKING OUT

I'M FREAKING OUT AGAIN JUST WRITING THIS

“Physically, yes. Mentally, no.” I actually could not breathe properly, my heart was pounding out of my chest, I was losing my MIND

The guy I HAVE A CRUSH ON

JUST GRABBED MY WAIST

I WAS NOT EMOTIONALLY OR MENTALLY OKAY WHATSOEVER

“BTSfan, I am having a heart attack and I am not going to be able to speak to him now. At all. Not happening”

And I just skated

And just

Tried to ignore EVERYTHING OR ELSE I WAS GOING TO ACTUALLY DIE

It nears the end

And the final song is playing

And I brace myself for the final song because last time it was a Bruno mars song that I really hated and I so far they were playing nearly the exact same songs

And then….

SOME

BODY

ONCE TOLD ME

And I was like “ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?”

Fun fact: the last time I heard All Star it was Laurie singing it, so yayyyyyy

And I just kept skating and honestly I hated that song before Laurie, it was good for memes but repeatedly and as a song I hated it

But after Laurie I did genuinely start to enjoy the song so I’m singing and skating to this song and I notice Edward dance skating to the song and just

He’s adorable and I really like this boy

So, by this point I’ve accepted the fact I won’t be able to speak to him and thank every god under the sun that the flashing rainbow lights were still on when he crashed into me

I’m skating, I’m singing, I’m trying to ignore the memory in my head—

“Jordan!”

And instantly I turn my head around and

It’s Edward

Its FUCKING EDWARD

“How are you?”

“I’m doing good, how have you been?” “Doing good, only fallen over once so that’s pretty good!” then he waves at me “See you later!” and skates off

I find myself the nearest wall and just process what the EVER-LOVING FUCK JUST HAPPENED

HE SPOKE TO ME

HE KNOWS MY NAME

HIS VOICE IS WAY HOTTER THAN I THOUGHT IT WOULD BE

HE

KNOWS

MY

NAME

AND THEN PRETTY FRIEND COMES OVER AND SHE’S LIKE “How’d go~?” and I’m like “If I die, you know the cause, HOLY SHIT HE KNOWS MY NAME”

So, I just hit blushy mess mode and just

I don’t even remember the rest of what happened

Afterwards I’m putting on my shoes

By myself

Because I’m the only one that actually owns skates and doesn’t have to return them

And then because I’m still sneaking glances at him, he makes eye contact and waves

And just

I wave back because I’m a polite person

And I hope and pray he mistakes the blush for overheating

Just

And then my brother who already knew and came about fifteen minutes earlier comes up to me and is like “I saw you talk to him” “Byakuya I’m going to flip a table help me” To explain his name by the way he’s a reincarnated 9year old Byakuya Togami

In other words, an emotionless bitch.

He has never cried at a movie. We’ve watched Lion King with him

THE FUCKER DIDN’T CRY AT MUFASA’S DEATH HE IS AN EMOTIONLESS HUSK

About an hour after all the roller-skating happened Byakuya told me that Prettyfriend had asked him to talk to me

Which is fine

It’s just that if I die we all know who the murderer behind the scenes is

I did say “thank you for doing that and also thank you for giving me a heart attack”

So then after all that

I’m here

At 12am

Writing this

Because otherwise I will implode from all the emotions

If ya’ll read this whole thing then holy shit you are a legend and I love you you’re amazing thank you for caring enough about my rambles that you read through almost 3000 words when that could be spent on fanfiction

Thank you

Will there be an update next month? Most likely

I will probably be dying then as well

Anyways

I guess this goes under Edward Stories now huh

Or RollerBoy

Eh I’ll do both

Alrighty then I’m going to try and sleep now so yeah

Oooh wait Imma tag @cubedtriangle​ in this, girl this is a ride and half, like I thought Laurie was a ride but damn if this ain’t a fucking death roller coaster then I don’t know what it is

Okay then everything seems to be in order

Have a good night or morning wherever you are!

Maze Girl out

P.S I want “Accept the crazy and the world becomes more fun” on my grave in case I do die from this boy

[saintelauren]

i need to get this out because i’m so fucking tired of it and i feel like i can be honest on this website and it doesn’t matter

i made the mistake 9 years ago of giving someone the time of day because i was naive. they were manipulative and gave me the impression they were this super cool, well liked, and nice person. i was 18 and there’s nothing i could have done to realize what i was getting myself into. i had no experience and they did a good job tricking me.

i proceeded to spend 2 wasted years being emotionally abused to hell by this sad, insecure, person who was desperate for control. by the last year i spent every day wishing i wasn’t in the relationship but i stayed because this person would do and say anything to convince me to think how they wanted me to. they would get drunk and start arguments for absolutely no reason, cry hysterically and run around the campus screaming at me about how i’m a shit girlfriend. scream at me in front of people. their twitter account was open on my laptop once and i went to their dms (already sure something was up) and saw them messaging tons of weird twitter sex bots and real girls trying to fuck. they would go into MY computer history while i was at class and when i came home would mock me for the type of porn i’d clicked on in the past, talking about it for hours. they would tell me that every friend or roommate i had was crazy, and i spent the first 2 years of college missing out on a lot of fun times and friendships because this person would decide if we went out or not, and i could never go alone. they would spend hours screaming at me at the top of their lungs, loud enough for my entire fucking dorm floor to hear. they terrified me. i put up with it. i was afraid. i was weak.

when we finally broke up, the next semester of college consisted of them bombarding me with hundreds of manic as fuck paragraphs insulting me, my friends, my family. long write ups about how they’re going to kill themselves and various threats to burn my house down that i lived in with my best friends. they would show up alone to parties that they knew i would be at, and would talk about me to the people there who were either strangers to this person, or barely knew them, but were of course close to me. once they entered one of my close friend’s apartments uninvited and unannounced, just because the door was unlocked, and because they somehow knew i wasn’t home and that i was there. 

 i would show up to a pool party and they would come up to me and start speaking with the person i was standing with and having a conversation with, as if we weren't 100% not on speaking terms and as if they weren’t extremely disturbed and definitely not allowed to speak with me. they were such a shitshow at this point after months of us not being together, every time i was forced to see them, they were missing teeth from apparently getting beaten up for instigating fights and being crazy like they always were (everyone would tell me about it). to ice the cake, this person told me when we broke up that they had been cheating on me for the entire two years - only after dozens of insane texts demanding i admit i cheated too (which i didnt) just for them to tell me they would go home for breaks, have sex with other people, and come back to our college and have sex with me in the same day. 

fast forward 3 years of not speaking, being 100% broken up and me moving on and being with someone new. i notice someone who lives exactly in the same area of the state they live in looking at my personal tagged pics on tumblr. spending hours scrolling through all the pages. i wasn’t sure it was them, but i was suspicious. i would occasionally get weird anon messages insulting me but i thought it was just regular tumblr bullshit because it was like 2015. 

come 2016, this person goes full out. they sick their underage girlfriend on me and the girlfriend starts tweeting directly at me, insulting me for 0 reason. have never met this girl and never will. the girl eventually reaches out to me and sends me TONS of messages about how my ex was abusing them, threatening suicide by getting knives from their kitchen, threatening to kill her brother, and posting all over social media about how she was addicted to pills and was racist, etc. i tried my best to help her because she seemed super terrified, this person was hacking into all of her social media accounts and trying to message ME on them. she told me she wanted to end it and i tried to give her all the advice i could. her own mother even messaged me asking me for help to protect her from my ex. 

then, only a few days later the girl began attacking me, trying to call me, tweeting obscenities at me, literally losing her mind. her and my ex began nonstop subtweeting horrible shit about me on twitter, inventing crazy stories and creating a hilarious false narrative about how i’m obsessed with my ex. this person CALLED my current boyfriend days after christmas trying to complain to him about how i was obsessed with them. they forced tons of conversations on my boyfriend for days, playing up the narrative that they were this innocent person trying to get by, but that i was attacking their girlfriend and them at all times, trying to ‘warn’ my bf. they would stalk my instagram account to find out where i was whenever i visited home to see my parents. they would tweet about it. the amount of things that went on and the things that were said are too many and too dark to even begin to list. the girlfriend proceeded to stalk me from the moment my ex seemingly spoke to her about me. constantly complaining online about how i’m obsessed with her, getting all of her own friends to attack me even though she doesn’t know me, and she will never ever meet me. she messaged my own friends trying to get their attention through vague, weird texts pretending to be someone else, and tweeted at them multiple times, insulting them for no reason.

we come to now, 2019, where i am still getting constant hits on my tracker that tell me my ex is going from my twitter to my tagged tumblr pics multiple times a week. i can’t do anything except know that after almost a decade this person will never give up on me, even though we haven’t directly spoken since 2012. the only thing that keeps me sane is knowing we live on different continents, or i would be terrified. 

i wish on no one this type of hell, it’s completely ridiculous and immature and has wasted my time for years after attempting to remove this person completely from my life. i don’t know if they will ever stop. and i’m sure if they read this they will go totally insane over it.

[swearronchanel]

and my commentary continues: series 6, episode 2 (if this is now a thing idk what to title it)

You asked for it, my first class isn’t until noon tomorrow so I can sleep in & so, I complied Also the SAG awards finished at like 10pm so even after doing my night routine it’s still early haha here it goes …

- Oh shit I forgot color - ah I really like the new intro - Penny’s outfit is so cute - “Walk don’t run” stfu Sister Ursula this isn’t elementary school - “Have you lost your marbles bubsy” haha that’s cute - UGH I WANNA FIGHT THIS NUN - LET JULIENNE ARRANGE THE DAMN FLOWERS - This is when sister Ursula presses sister Monica Joan about the bon bons lol - “Unlike your sisters” guessing u don’t think u count - You’re damn right - Sister MJ sly af 😏 wish she was my grandma - Aw penny it’s ok sweetie all will be well - AlRight so where is St Cuthberts, is it closer than the London? Idk just wondering - I don’t care that much tbh - Damn this man gonna go blind how sad - I like knowing what happens when I’m watching bc I can’t take so much I get anxious - But are we not going to mention Patsy’s wig anymore? It’s still ugly, lucky emerald is beautiful anyway - - Ugh my bbys are still so hurt about the thalidomide 💔💔 - IT WAS NOT EITHER OF YOUR FAULTS - YES IT IS A MIRACLE PATRICK, YOU SHOULD’VE MENTIONED IT LAST WEEK but it’s all good - HE’S TOUCHING HER STOMACH AH - AND THEY KISSED Lmaoo I bet this will break Tumblr - UgH SUCH A SWEET MOMENT TO MELT MY COLD HEART - Jk this show has made me such an emotional mess, like I rarely ever used to cry or anything - But it could also be because of university diminishing my sanity - “We should really start telling people” - YEA PLS GIVE US A CUTE SCENE TELLING EVERYONE @ NONNATUS - - Buttt, I’m gonna guess it’s either going to be implied that they told them off screen or they won’t find out till she starts bleeding mid inspection ?? idk I’m just guessing, don’t come at me lmaoo - Patrick’s smirk “he’ll certainly understand” 😂😂 - SHELAGH’S CRINGING FACE I LOVE IT - YOU KNOW IM HERE FOR ALL CRINGEY EXPRESSIONS - Plus that’s my bby - - PHYLLIS SAW PATS AND DELIA - SHE KNOWS & IM GLAD IT WAS HER TO FIRST FIND OUT - - alright so let me be annoying real quick - From that clip from the casebook Valerie is problematic/lowkey racist & no estoy aquí para eso PERO I like her in the moment? - One, her outfit is cute - & B, she gets along well with my shelagh and seems nice.. I’m not gonna forget her comment though lol, so I’m going to stay neutral for now - - Ok the Marsh baby is born next - Lol sorry I love when sister Winifred is being cringey or funny but this was just kinda boring but I know it’ll get better later in the episode - BUT SERIOUSLY I WANNA KNOW SISTER WINIFRED’S REAL NAME - Idk why that was capitalized I don’t feel that strongly but I’m very curious !¡! - - Shelagh being all cute and cheeky giving those vaccinations - Penny is so sweet - - Alright this is so irrelevant but still, Shelagh is outside.. so Why would she throw up in a napkin in her hand? lol, all that open space 😭😂 idk I really hate throwing up and will not let my self throw up. Not even vlad can make me😷 - SHIT THAT EXPLOSION THO - what were they doing exactly? - like a bitch over here a lil confused :/ - MY LIL SUPERHERO SPRINGING TO ACTION YES BBY - shit George’s blind for good now it’s sad - and arthur’s gonna die damn - - look at disheveled Shelagh so damn pretty but I wonder when she got that cut lol - Lmaoo @ Valerie, so she knows the Nonnatuns - - Damn I’m only 17 mins in why do I talk so much shit to myself - Sister MJ sneaking that bread during sister Ursula’s prayer is me 😂 - I swear though if Sister Ursula tries to get rid of Sister MJ I will fight - My eyes roll every time this woman is on my screen - Phyllis chewing angrily is also me - “Travel visas there have been canceled” shit pats it’s too relevant right now - “I’m trifle deaf these days” PHYLLIS U ARE A GEM - Penny wins best dressed patient - - Patrick worrying is precious - SHELAGH TRYING TO HINT WHILE SMILING IS SO FUNNY BUT WHY - Lmao why are they acting like Tim is not literally right there? - Also this boy is 15 why is he not ever with friends - Of course he knew, he’s always around and isn’t dumb at all. He basically grew up around pregnant ladies tbh - “.. Good I don’t want to know any other details” lmao 😂 - I knew he’d be pleased but I lowkey wanted him not to upset or annoyed so he could have a good little story line - It’s not realistic that this 15 year old is so pleasant with his parents all the time - Like I was an angsty fright @ 15 - lol I’m acting like I’m old, I’m going to be 19 & I’m still like that^ with my parents a lot of the time - - Why do British people call bandaids “plasters”? Hm. I just think of plaster of Paris for like walls or whatever it’s used for - “I’m a slow healer” lol Shelagh is so precious - “If the baby’s a girl I’m moving out” I think it’ll be a boy. Actually Idk forget I said that - Don’t be nervous bby, speak up you got this - “That’s my girl” yes Patrick that’s our girl protect her at all freaking cost 😭 - I’ve gotten so far without saying “fuck” I’m proud - - “This is the dark before the dawn, but there is always a dawn” thanks sister I needed that - “I’ve committed a crime"😭😭 - I love sister MJ - also not gonna lie I cried a little the first time watching this - - Some mothers of color in the community centre makes me happy - Who’s the model though? 😏 - Someone find him & tag me - Ugh here comes sister “I ruin everything” - Honestly when is sister Julienne just gonna come out and say “you gotta go”? - No that’s not the way you do things - fuck yea sister J - “We must simply sit it out and wait for Churchill” - I HOPE THATS TRIXIE - BUT also I really want Sister Julienne to be the one who saves the day - Lol yea Babs your wardrobe should step it up but it’s okay - - Shelagh don’t be nervous you’re gonna kill it - Does sister Ursula even do anything? She doesn’t see patients does she? Nah she just makes everyone angry - Get up outta here - Lol I’m so Brooklyn for that - “Mrs Turner you look nice” - UM YES, MY BBY, her new dresses & coats slay - She finally took a break from the damn cardigans & I love it. Not that there’s anything wrong with cardigans but you catch my drift - Nah for real I wanted a fabulous wardrobe for Shelagh bc times are changing & Laura Main is literally gorgeous so she needs pretty outfits & got it I did - so here for it, now we wait for another pair of trousers. lets get it 1962 - this first dress had such jackie kennedy vibes, love it - - “Consequences be DAMMED” YES PATS - Phyllis and Sister J are proud, I really want one of them to press Sister Ursula - Look @ Delia actually being a nurse! - ah penny 💔 - - Shelagh’s so nervous at first but then is like YOU KNOW WHAT ASSHAT JUDGE - “Where is nurse Mount?” , “where she is needed” YES SISTER JULIENNE - love the blue coat Shelagh - “I’m not ill, I’m just tired and angry” same - Don’t cry bby - “Our best is worthless bc it won’t change anything” ugh crush my heart, especially that little hug. I need to hug them all - lol who invited Tom to the hospital - he’s so handsome though so it’s ok - TELL THEM, STAND UP - “We need to fight” yes ! - I was worried penny’s baby wouldn’t live - C'mon Pats be pc - okay patsy opening up, crushes my heart she’s so closed off but I feel - Here comes the wicked bitch of the east [end] - Whoops can I call a fictitious nun a bitch - YES PATS YES DONT TAKE HER SHIT - Aw patsy, you two will okay, I mean look sister Bernadette came back as Shelagh because of letters so you never know - - Shelagh’s baby blue outfit >> - she needs to go out in public more with her hair down and slay everyone’s life - “Not today.” Yes Delia - “You did it Mrs Turner, you made em listen!” - Yes tf she did. I’m so proud - the set makeup artist did a crazy good job with the burns - “We never really out grow our parents, we just think we do” aw I should call my mum and dad - mm maybe later it’s midnight lmao - DELIA SAID I LOVE U - I FEEL LIKE NO IMPORTANT COUPLE on here HAS SAID “I LOVE YOU” to each other ?? - They almost kissed aw - Fred just break the door damn - Reminds me a little of when Jenny left - Aw the Marsh fam - Phyllis you are gold - Phyllis is still learning Spanish, please give her an opportunity to use it! - the only Spanish speaking mother was conchita, wasn’t that the first episode ever? lets get another one - Anyway, this was so sad. - “The pain it costs to love..” PHYLLIS I LOVE You. You deserve everything good - Aw all the other mothers with penny! - Alright Lets hear it Vanessa - Aw Delia Bonus: preview for next week - my other bby Trixie is back !! - hope she loses her shit when she realizes sister Ursula is ruining everything + patsy/sister mary cynthia are gone - My bby Shelagh looks so pretty!💕 - BUT I KNOW NO ONE IS SHUTTING DOWN ANYTHING - I will not have it - Phyllis spilling the ever so obvious and boiling tea, sister Ursula is UNFIT - Pls let Sister Julienne say something crazy to her before she goes - Why is babs crying?? - ugh of course that’s the most of a preview we get - Nothing bad will happen to my bbys I won’t have it. Protect them at all costs or I’ll spontaneously combust - Jk but I might flip my shit or throw my laptop - But for real for Shelagh to miscarry 3 episodes in would be a waste of a storyline - Plus it is a drama, we’ll be shook for a while, then we’ll cry, we’ll laugh & then Vanessa Redgrave says something profound and we go on with the week - The End 🙃🙃 - If you read this far, you’re a champ - I did this for u all

[stopforamoment]

Part Fifteen: Wait for You (Series Eleven, Part 15 of 16)

Series Eleven: It’s uh Movin’ Thing, but Still and All (Sixteen Parts)

Part Fifteen: Wait for You (Series Eleven, Part 15 of 16)

Masterlist

Book: The Royal Romance (After Book Three)

Pairing: Bastien Lykel x OFC Rinda Parks

Word Count: 1,287

Rating: M for Language

Author’s Note: Obligatory disclaimer that Pixelberry Studios owns the TRR characters and my pocketbook with those darn diamond scenes. OFC with all of her quirks is all mine. My apologies if Tumblr or I do something stupid when I try to post this. The keep reading link shows up on my laptop but not my phone. Ugh.

Thank you @asherella-is-a-dork-3​ for always being my sounding board! Thank you @liam-rhys​ and @silviasutton1989 for still being a part of the journey!

Please take time to listen to the song at the end. It makes me happy, and I kept listening to it as I wrote the end of this series.

Triggers: There are going to be some dark themes in this series that deal with the consequences of what happens when parents don’t put their children first. I promise I won’t get graphic, and I’ll tag each section accordingly. This will tie in with future events and another aspect of Bastien and Rinda’s personalities—as individuals and as a couple.

Series Summary: It’s the week of October 14th, the sixth week of the school year. Henry and Rinda are staying in Cordonia, which means that Rinda can now begin to move forward, and backwards, with professional and personal aspects of her life.

One inspiration while I wrote this was a quotation from Zora Neale Hurston’s Their Eyes Were Watching God:

“Love is lak de sea. It’s uh movin’ thing, but still and all, it takes its shape from de shore it meets, and it’s different with every shore.”

The other was these lyrics from the song “I Dreamed a Dream” from Les Misérables:

“But the tigers come at night / With their voices soft as thunder / As they tear your hope apart / As they turn your dream to shame.”

Chapter Summary: This jumps back to Friday night after the appreciation dinner. Bastien desperately needs to see Rinda and make sure she knows how much she means to him.

Wait for You

Friday Night after the Appreciation Dinner

When Bastien first met Rinda he could instantly describe her physical features. He could do that with anyone because of his training. But he quickly learned that she was a contradiction of sorts, using her inappropriate sense of humor to diffuse intense situations, appearing insensitive when really she cared too much. Her passion for work, yet she always made sure Henry knew he was her priority. She seemed so professional and confident, yet she had moments of intense insecurity and self-doubt. She could be so shy and so reserved, yet she swore like a sailor and had a wicked sense of humor. She was a loving mother to Henry—and the entire neighborhood of children—yet she had the most chaotic household and laid-back parenting approach when it came to many things. He was still shocked that Rinda was okay with Henry using occasional curse words at home, or watching Rick and Morty, or not making his bed every morning. But if Henry ever spoke rudely to another person or purposely used a word to hurt someone, he immediately felt her wrath. Henry knew to be kind to other people and do his part to protect them, and Rinda always helped Henry talk through ways he could make a difference in his own way.

. . . . .

After Bastien dropped off Drake he drove to Rinda’s house. It was late, and he didn’t even take the time to message that he was coming over. He was still processing, unsure of what to say to her. But he desperately needed to see her.

When he got out of his car, Bastien heard the boys playing in the backyard. The entire neighborhood was in the backyard. Like always. Rinda’s house was the unofficial gathering place for everyone, and right now there were a lot of happy children running around, some playing tag and others playing football. Rinda was sitting in a chair and had a baby monitor next to her—the Manikas boys must be asleep inside—and she was in her banana pajamas, hair down, laughing with Mr. Ariti. But she knew when he was there and she quickly turned around, happy to see him but also ready to tease him. “Bastien, she wasn’t able to retie your tie?” Bastien came over and dropped to his knees. “Tria. I need to talk to you. Please.”

Mr. Ariti quickly spoke. “I’ll stay out here with the kids.” Bastien nodded and stood up. He took Rinda’s hand as he walked inside with her.

Rinda was worried. “Bastien, what’s wrong? Please.”

“We promised we wouldn’t talk about things until the visit was over. And now it is, and I needed to see you right away. Tria, earlier this week Drake yelled at me when we talked about having Vivian on the guest list. Originally he told me to take Vivian off the list, and I didn’t know anything that was going on with her children, and I told him he was overacting. I’m so sorry. And he did tell me something, but he said it to help me realize how badly I fucked up. He told me that when you two first met, you told him that you wished time would stop so you would have time to catch up. Tria, do you still feel that way?”

Rinda shrugged. “No matter how patient you are and how often you reassure me, there’s always going to be someone like Vivian who is more than ready.”

“Tria, you’re the opposite of Vivian in every way.” He saw Rinda tense and he very quickly wrapped his arms around her and kept speaking. “That is one of the highest compliments I could give you. You’re an amazing mother and even though you always put Henry first, you still know how to balance being an incredible teacher and neighbor and friend . . . and Tria. You’re so damn funny and you drive me crazy, and I can’t imagine my life without you. Don’t ever compare yourself to her or anyone else, because you’re my Tria and I love you just the way you are.”

Bastien could feel Rinda’s body start to shake. “I did always wish time would just stop so I could catch up with everyone. Or that there would be someone who would wait for me to get my shit together and who would wait for me to catch up. And you’re doing that, Tiger. But I’m still not there. I’m still not caught up and I still need you to please wait for me, and maybe for Henry too. He loves you, but I don’t know how he would react if . . .” She suddenly stopped, not sure of how she should finish the sentence.

Bastien stared into her hazel eyes. Not dark eyes. Blonde curly hair that was untamable. Not straight, dark hair that was perfect. Someone who needed to step on her tiptoes to hug him, someone he had to lift off the ground or bend down to reach. Not someone who was only a few inches shorter than him and could easily wrap her arms around him. Someone who was clueless about football and needed forever to order a simple meal at a restaurant. Not someone who knew his favorite teams and would watch games with him, who could quickly and competently order a basic meal. Someone who was so generous with her affection, but only when she was ready. Someone who needed the person she was with to earn her trust and love. Someone who hasn’t kissed him on the lips yet, not someone who kissed him on the lips as a casual greeting, as if it meant nothing. Someone who shyly revealed that she wasn’t ready for an intimate relationship yet. Not someone who made it clear she would have sex with him now. Because really, it meant nothing to Vivian. Not everything, like it did for Rinda.

But now Bastien came back to Rinda, who was patiently waiting for him to respond. “You aren’t taking too long. I promise, you’re not.” Bastien gently cupped her face in his hands and looked into her eyes. “Tria, do you want me to keep waiting for you to catch up? Will you let me wait for you, sweetheart? And wait for Henry?”

Rinda looked at Bastien with so much hope in her eyes. They were green eyes that held the promise of new beginnings.

Her voice was a soft whisper. “Yes.”

Then she reached up to gently kiss his forehead. She slowly kissed down his nose, playfully nuzzling the tip of her nose with his. Her left hand cupped his face and he laced his fingers between hers, no ring grazing his skin. Rinda left a trail of kisses down the other side of his face, tracing along his cheekbone, once again nuzzling him with her nose, this time near his mouth.

Then she stopped, her left hand still laced with his, her right hand slowly caressing his face as it moved to his neck, then shoulder. Her lips close to his, she was letting him know that she wanted this, but he was going to be the one to kiss her.

And he did.

Slowly, lovingly. His thumb caressed her cheek as his tongue gently traced her lower lip, seeking permission to deepen their kiss. As Rinda’s fingers ran through his hair and cupped his face again, she gently sucked on his tongue to bring him closer. Bastien heard himself moan as he melted into her kiss, becoming part of that moment where it was only the two of them. Nothing else. And when she gently pulled back from the kiss, she leaned back in so Bastien could rest his forehead against hers.

“I love you, Tria.”

“I love you too, Tiger.”

. . . . .

A/N Take a few minutes to listen to The Crystals “Then He Kissed Me.” 😊