#i have been known to freak out when one of my tumblr crushes follows me

[thal-ent]

( Bastien, Emerens and Kim belong to @hel-phoenyx , Tomyris belongs to @soupedepates , Kate belongs to my sibling who doesn't have tumblr)

"You're staring at him again."

Virgil turns around to say something to the boy next to him, anything that would convince the teenager that he is not staring. But the teen isn't even looking at him, his - no, Tachi had said she wanted to try out she/her today - her science book open on her lap. Something they both know she knows by heart and better than most people when she's barely sixteen.

He huffs, turning his head back where he was looking. They're sitting under a tree, its shade protecting Virgil from overheating in the japanese summer. And on the other side of the courtyard, Virgil's... Friend, that's still the best word for it, he thinks, Bastien. He doesn't do well under the sun either, with his pale skin, but he's sitting next to a wall, its shadow protecting him from the harsh sun.

"Again. How did he never take you for a freak exactly ?"

"I am not staring. He's just in my line of sight."

"Sure, and you're totally not making heart eyes at him, like the whole school knows you do." It's not true, Tachi's not been here long enough to know all the gossip in that school, not that she would usually try.

"I'm not- the whole school ?!"

"I'm joking 'Gil" she doesn't listen to the grumble that sounds like a "don't call me that" from her older friend and turns a page from her book. "I'm pretty sure only Van Heel and his clique know about it. You're not good at hiding your crush y'know ?"

"That's not what it is."

"Yes it is, I'm a teen, not an idiot." She sighs, putting a gloved hand to her cheek and turning to look at Virgil, his eyes switching to her as soon as he feels her look on him. "You like him. Idiot."

"Stop that." He gives her a flicker on her shoulder with his prosthetic hand, making her wince as well as laugh. "What would even make you think that."

"Well I could make a list but we'd still be here tomorrow and I'd probably forget some stuff because I've only known you for like two months but you know." She shrugs, looking at Bastien's figure now. "You dont let people look at you usually."

He doesn't awnser. It's a little embarrassing, truly, that it's the first thing Tachi says that make him unable to bite back. Because they both know it's true. Virgil was the first to explain to Tachi why.

Kill or be killed, look at it before you become its pray. That's how it works, back there.

No one just looks at Virgil without him looking right back at them. Or if he cannot look at multiple people, his hands are always tense, small head mouvements that show he hears you. If she listened to herself, Tachi would sometimes describe him as more of an animal than a human. Virgil never lets you take him by surprise, never lets you get in his back without being sure he can hurt you before you hurt him.

Yet he lets Bastien look.

Tachi saw the sketches on Bastien's sketchbook, a multitude of weird, exagerated faces from the people around them. But also Virgil, again and again, face soft and far from the caricature everyone else gets from Bastien. Sketches that had to be done during long minutes where Virgil allowed Bastien to just look.

"You know you can just tell him you like him."

"It's not that simple."

"Please not another "but we're both boys", if I can have my gender crisis in peace, you can have your sexuality one."

"Never make that voice again. And I know."

"What, about my gender crisis or...?"

"That-" he stops speaking, lips tight. "I wont speak of that with you."

"What, that's "religious talk" only ?" Virgil rolls his eyes and Tachi snorts. "Hey c'mon, it's not like I'm the only catholic you talk to. Or I think tall girl's gonna get sad."

"Tomyris knows things you dont, Tachi. Let it go, please."

And she does. Because Virgil never asks for things.

"I still think you should ask him out."

***

He knows someone is following him. They make too much noise, their gaze not even trying to hide from him. He looks at the girl walking head high up behind him in the windows' reflections, silently hopes she leaves him alone. He's not in the mood for sparring, the air even hotter than yesterday.

" Bluie !" The nickname makes him turn, annoyance already on his face. He almost starts walking again when Kate stops her walk in front of him. "I need to speak to you."

"Don't call me that. What do you need, St-Arnaud ?" Kate rolls her eyes, her face just as closed as Virgil's. They're not really friends. Classmates, yes, but not friends. They fight, sometimes, but that's to be expected of the Ultimate Duellist, and it gives Virgil an opportunity to train.

"Kim found a kitten in a tree and needs someone to take it back down, and Morgan's not here."

He sighs slightly. When did he become a cat rescuer, exactly ? Still, he follows Kate, taking out a glove to put on his prosthetic and avoid getting any cat hair in it. Sao Mai would probably kill him, their last check up was just a week ago.

It's not hard to get the small ball of fur out of the tree, really. He's used to it by now, and it's not like the purring animal didn't deserve some help. It did scratch his nose, but he'll get better soon enough.

"Playing rescue again ?" Virgil almost jumps hearing Bastien's voice from behind him, his friend towering over him.

"As you can see. I think they want to kill me from heat, that's the third this week alone."

"Oh poor you with your little slavic genes, dying of heat stroke in spring."

"It's already summer, Bas'"

"Barely. It's really not that warm."

"You're wearing the summer uniform, of course you'd say that."

"You're the only one wearing the winter one still, no one's going to bite you here, Virg'."

He wants to say something, but his mind blanks over an image, an idea that is so out of character for him. His cheeks get redder before he awnsers Bastien, turning his head away from the other man.

"I mean, there's an ultimate Vampire, you know ? She's in the new class."

It's weak, almost an afterthough. Thankfully, Bastien doesn't pursue the thought.

"She's in Tachi's class, right ? Did you talk to her ?"

"Not yet. I think she avoids me and I dont really look to have a chat either." He turns his head back and sees how Bastien's eyes are on him, partially hidden behind his glasses. "Bas' ? Is there a problem ?"

"No, no !" Bastien gets red, his eyes drifting away slightly. "I was just thinking it suits you, to have your hair like that."

Virgil stays silent a moment, not really thinking. But he smiles, softness hidden where Bastien's not looking. His hand goes to his low bun, feeling more nervous than the compliment should've made him.

"Thank you."

***

For a second, he considers just slamming the door shut in Emerens' face and go to class by climbing down the window. Then he remembers the last time he tried that, he almost fell because of a loose brick that is still missing today. So, for another second, he considers not going to class at all today. But he's already struggling enough with japanese as it is, and he needs the credits to pass the semester.

So he sighs and closes the door behind him, letting the tall blonde smile like he just won a prize at the lottery.

"What do you want. Be quick I have a class in ten minutes."

"Well, a certain friend of yours came to us absolutely desperate about your pining." He stops himself from groaning. More than a month passed since that... Talk, with Tachi and the youngest still managed to get involved in this. "So I came to help my good friend Virgil !~"

"We're not friends, Emerens. I help you with latin and you help me with english."

"Oh ! You hurt me !" The novellist puts a hand to his chest as he walks. "We'll talk about it later though. So, who is it ?"

"What, they didn't tell you ?"

"Oh they did, but that means you know too, at least. Better than most."

Virgil passes a hand on his face. Of course Emerens Van Heel, Ultimate Romance Writer, would be attentive to things like this. This man sees more than most people.

"So what, you're going to give me shitty advice like we're in one of your novels ?"

"My stories are better written than that. No, no, I know what's going on with Bastien too. Thibs' loosing his mind over it, so really I'm helping myself too by helping you."

"Wait why's Thibault-"

"Virgil please dont tell me you didn't see Bastien's massive crush on you."

There's only silence, and it doesn't take a genius to see despair taking over Emerens' face.

"We have work to do, Virgil."

[idy-ll-ique]

Paparazzi.

Pairing: Sebastian Stan x F!Reader

Genre: Fluff, Angst

Warnings: TOO META, m*sturbation, mentions of s*x

Requested: nope

Summary: I'm your biggest fan, I'll follow you until you love me... Y/N Y/L/N writes Marvel fanfictions. One day, Sebastian stumbles upon her account and, unable to help himself, reads all the stuff she has written about him. He didn't mean to fall so hard for her but he does. How can he not? She has shown him parts of himself that he never even knew existed.

Author's Note: Hiya peeps! Okay so a few weeks ago I read a similar (but dark) fanfic and I really wanted to write a softer version of it... Enjoy!

---

Same old, boring routine.

Y/N hit post and slumped against the headrest of her bed, sighing. She waited; a minute, then two passed and she noticed that someone had liked her post. She smiled to herself as she kept her phone away. Though boring, she wouldn't trade her life for the world. Y/N… well, she was a university student first and foremost but she was also a writer.

Being a big fan of the Marvel Cinematic Universe, she had started writing fanfictions a few years ago. She posted them on Tumblr, where her blog, though not very well-known, stood out enough for her posts to get around 800-1000 likes per post. She loved it; she loved writing, she loved posting her stories and especially, she loved the feedback.

Sometimes people were rude, but most times, the reviews she got were fantastic. She read each and every one of them, smiling goofily as people freaked out over her fanfictions. It warmed her heart. A smile automatically blooming on her face, Y/N lay down on the bed and decided to go to sleep, it being almost 3 am.

Unbeknownst to her, someone else was up at the same time, tossing and turning in his bed, restless.

Sebastian sighed as he sat up, running a hand through his hair. He drank some water and lay down again, closing his eyes but it was like sleep was mad at him. Refused to be anywhere near him. He groaned to himself and picked up his phone from the nightstand, deciding to go through Instagram, hoping he'd finally fall asleep to the glare of the screen.

As he logged into his account, he skipped the activity page and went straight to the explore page. Bored, he continued scrolling until his eyes landed on a specific photo. And the breath escaped his lungs when he clicked on it; the woman in the picture was absolutely gorgeous. He just couldn't resist going to her page, smiling widely when he read her bio.

It gave him her basic information; her name, her age, the university she attended. But what caught his eye was the link below the bio. My Marvel Fanfictions Master List. Marvel fanfictions? She was a writer? Smirking, he clicked on the link and it took him to Tumblr. Of course, he'd heard of the site, but didn't have an account on there. At 3 am, his mind sure wasn't working right.

A post popped up on the screen, the same master list she had mentioned earlier. And his eyes bulged out of their sockets; damn, those are a lot of fanfictions. He went through the whole thing, smirking again when he noticed that she had written the most fanfictions about him. Not Bucky Barnes, no, Sebastian Stan.

He clicked on the first one. The date of posting was way back, in 2019. He started reading; nothing about it felt weird to him; he was intrigued, if anything. And as he continued reading, he couldn't help but imagine her being in the stead of the female protagonist. Her, the writer. The woman whose picture had made him end up reading in the first place.

When he finished the story, his heart thudded wildly in his chest. Wow, she really has a way with words. And he had also noticed how in the author's note, she used a lot of slang but reading the story had made him realize that she had an amazing, extensive vocabulary. He went back to the master list and clicked on the latest post under his name.

Posted: 15 minutes ago.

His breath hitched in his throat when he read the warnings: there was going to be sexual intercourse in this one. For one moment, he hesitated; did he really want to read this? "Oh fuck it," he huffed and scrolled, starting to read. The more he read, the more his shaft twitched in his pants. He wasn't really like that during… but oh damn, he wasn't complaining.

"Oh, Seb…"

His hand slid down and he rubbed himself through his boxers, unable to take his eyes off the text in front of him. His strokes got harder and faster as the sex got steamier. "Ungh, I'm gonna cum—" And he suddenly came in his boxers, groaning. Slumping down on the bed, he quickly finished reading the rest of it, going back to the master list.

He took a screenshot with the account's name in it and then went back to her Instagram account to take another screenshot. Keeping his phone away, he slipped out of his boxers, cleaned himself and pulled the covers on top of him, finally feeling tired enough to fall asleep.

---

Y/N was walking across the campus of her university, going to the cafeteria when her phone buzzed in her pocket. Taking it out, she opened Tumblr to read the message someone had sent her just then.

his-username: Hi there! I was binging your account last night, you write really well

your-username: Omg thank you!!!! I really appreciate it, I love getting feedback! 🥺❤

his-username: You're welcome! Especially your latest post, that was really good ;)

your-username: hehe 😈 glad you liked it!

Smiling widely, she kept her phone away and continued walking, not knowing that the person who had texted her was the same man she had written about. Sebastian smiled to himself when he read her text. After getting up in the morning, the first thing he had done was install Tumblr on his phone. Then he made an account for himself.

Figuring out the app was easy; he found out that there was an option to keep your liked posts and the accounts you followed hidden, and selected it immediately. No one needed to know what he did on the app. Then he went back to her account, pressed the follow button and started binge-reading her fanfictions again. Last night had he read only two, and that had left him wanting more.

Funny how much things can change in a night. He liked and reblogged all her posts without a second thought; he even read all her Bucky Barnes posts. She understood his character so well, put him on what he thought was an undeserved pedestal while writing about him. Some of the stories were AUs, which he found out stood for Alternate Universes. Mostly mobster or mafia stuff.

He had the day off, and he spent the entire time cooped up in his apartment, on his bed, reading. The more he read, the more he started fawning over her, over the version of him that she put out to the world. Dominating, suave and just perfect. He loved it. At the end of the day, he decided to text her again, hoping she wouldn't think he was weird or find out the truth.

his-username: do you wanna be friends, maybe? I'm new to the app, don't really have any friends here ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

That was a lie, he knew Mark Ruffalo had an active Tumblr account. But it's not like he could tell him.

your-username: Yes sure!!!! I was also thinking of making some friends on this app lol

his-username: You don't have any on here? But you've been here for years, haven't you?

your-username: haha yeah, but I don't really reach out to people much. Sometimes people leave their feedbacks on my posts, text me but that's that

his-username: Ohhh

his-username: well, let's start with names. Mine's Sebastian

your-username: Really?????? omg that's so cool lmaooooooo (didn't think you were a boy but 😳👀)

his-username: Not a boy, I'm a man 😤😂

your-username: 🤣 im y/n, btw

his-username: Y/N, that's a nice name

your-username: thank you!!!! So, what do you do?

his-username: nothing really that interesting, I'm in theatre

your-username: theatre is nice! I'm studying at [university] in New York lmao

his-username: Wait you're in New York? So am I!

your-username: ASDFHKSHKGF that's awesome!!! also I noticed that you've been going through my account the whole day 😏 notifications upon notifications keeping my phone busy

his-username: Oopsie?

your-username: 😂😂 I really don't mind, it was great! Despite the amount of likes on my posts, I only have a few loyal followers lmao gaining one more felt nice

your-username: You a big fan of Sebastian Stan? Cuz I noticed that you were only reading his and Bucky's fics 👀

Sebastian's face heated up.

his-username: kinda yeah 🤷🏻‍♂️😁

your-username: Cool cool cool, I'm a big fan of his too!!!! also got a crush on him but whatever 😳

Sebastian smirked at his phone. A crush on him, huh? That… was acceptable. He suddenly felt his cocky side coming out; the one she described in nearly all her fanfictions.

his-username: wouldn't blame ya, I mean, look at him. You have also written the most fics about him and Bucky

your-username: right????? damn that man has raised my standards. Anyway, I gtg now, I have to finish a paper before midnight. ttyl!

his-username: Bye! 👋🏻

He kept his phone away and took in a deep breath. This was the most fun he had had in years, and he was not letting her go so easy. He realized he was quickly falling for her; rather unhealthy, but he couldn't help it. Look at her. She looks like a goddamn angel, writes like one, makes him feel like one, do you really expect him not to fall for her? That's insane.

---

Months passed by like a breeze. Y/N and Sebastian had become very good friends, and he knew his way around words just enough to keep her from finding out his identity while not lying to her. Y/N also appreciated his friendship, because he was the one to whom she could rant about her most favorite man in the world— Sebastian Stan.

Sometimes, she thought about how weird of a coincidence it was that her new friend and the actor shared the same names, but then she used to brush it off; that was a common name, right? They talked for hours on end; Sebastian (her friend, not the actor) was extremely witty, smart and fun to talk to, she had to admit. Sebastian felt the same way.

His feelings had worsened. Y/N entirely owned his heart now. Somedays, he'd just go on Instagram, go to her account— her username memorized by him— and stare at her photos until he grew tired; he'd never get tired of looking at her beautiful face but his stiff body afterwards begged to differ. She was just so Elysian. He longed for the moment when he could meet her in real life.

His personality had also changed majorly, and people had caught on. Especially his Marvel co-stars, who knew him to be introverted, shy and, in Anthony Mackie's words, "boring". They were surprised at his sudden change in attitude; he knew his worth and Y/N had helped tremendously in finding it. Now, all those adjectives that she used in her fanfictions fit him perfectly.

Sebastian was never tempted to read fanfictions about himself from authors other than Y/N. No, he only loved her work. He was sure no one else could write as beautifully as she did, he was her #1 fan. Y/N even sent him funny Marvel memes she found on the app and he used to enjoy them heartily; God, the others have no idea what they're missing out on. Our fans are awesome.

Everything was going well.

Until one day.

Sebastian was getting bored at home, so he decided to go to the nearby library to clear his mind. He had read not one book in the past few months, hung up on Y/N's fanfictions. At this point, he was obsessed with her and he knew it. It was nothing dark, per se, it was— it was similar to how Y/N was attracted to Sebastian. How she was a fan of his work.

Just the same. He was a fan of her work in the same way. Just how she was attracted to him, he was attracted to her. Walking into the library that he visited often, he gave the librarian a smile and ventured further into the dark place. He checked his watch; the library closed at 12 am, it was currently 9:30 pm.

Not many people were around, heck, nobody was around. He thought himself to be all alone until he heard it. A sigh, coming from a few aisles away. He walked in that direction and peeked around the corner, freezing when he saw the other person. Y/N? Her books were strewn all across the table as she sat alone at the booth, rubbing her temples.

"You okay?"

She looked up and her breath caught in her throat. I'm dreaming. This is not real. Now I know for a fact that Sebastian Stan is not standing in front of me, asking me if I'm— "Hello?" He snapped his fingers in front of her face, pulling her out of her thoughts. "I, uh— I'm— h-hi," she stammered and he almost chuckled. "Hi." She gulped visibly and blinked at the table, not meeting his eyes.

"Can I have a seat?" He wants to sit with me?! "Y-Yes, sure, sir," she blurted out and he easily slid into the booth next to her. "Hey, please, call me Sebastian. What's your name?" He gave her a friendly smile, even though all he wanted to do was push her back into the booth and kiss her wildly. His shaft twitched just by thinking about it; Y/N was a thousand times more beautiful in person.

"I'm Y/N, it's very nice to meet you, I'm… I'm a fan," she admitted, playing with the ring she wore on her left thumb. I'm your fan too, sweetheart, the biggest one. "Y/N, nice name. You come here often? I haven't really seen you around." She shook her head. "Oh no no, I moved to this part of the city just a week ago, this is my first time here. The library is cozy," she shrugged, easing out of her tense position.

Sebastian nodded. "Yes, I know, this place is awesome. Got all my favorite books here," he chuckled and she smiled at him. "What's all this?" A groan left her lips. "Ugh, stupid university work. I have to write a book report but I don't even know what to write about." He smiled gently. "Well, I have a few favorite books, would you like some suggestions?"

"Oh, please! Tell me!"

He started listing some of his favorite works and Y/N noted the names down until he said the last name. At that, she froze. That's the name of my latest— She looked up but he had a smile on his face. "Oh, and the last one is by my favorite author." He took a pause. "Y/N Y/L/N." She froze completely, staring at the man with her jaw dropped.

Sebastian grinned. "We finally meet, Y/N, I've been waiting for months." Her mouth opened and closed several times as she recalled every interaction she had had with her online best friend— scratch that— her celebrity crush. All the times she had confessed her love for Sebastian Stan, all the dirty and inappropriate memes that she'd sent him…

Embarrassment flooded her entire body as she exhaled shakily. "It was you," she croaked out, "On Tumblr, the account— I'm so sorry—" Sebastian frowned in confusion when she blinked back sudden tears, a few still rolling down her cheeks as shame replaced embarrassment. "Y/N, please don't cry…" She looked up at him, his figure blurry due to her tears.

"You've read everything, haven't you? I just— I'm sorry, I don't want to make you uncomfortable—" He pulled her into his arms, hugging her tightly. Y/N couldn't hug back, though she appreciated the hug especially since it came from him. "You don't know how much you mean to me, doll," he mumbled into her shoulder, using the nickname she often used in the stories she wrote about him. He grew accustomed to it easily.

"Huh?"

He pulled away to wipe her tears. "It was an accident," he admitted, "But I stumbled onto your Instagram account from my explore page. Then I clicked on your account, saw that you wrote Marvel fanfictions and I just couldn't resist the urge to read what you had written. Blame it on 3 am me, to be honest. You're a great writer, and I was immediately drawn to your works. They're awesome.

"They've helped me so much in the past few months. You see this changed attitude that everyone's been talking about lately? All because of you, sweetheart. I'm sorry for keeping my identity secret, but after reading your works, I knew I had to get closer to you. I made the Tumblr account just for you, just so I could talk to you. I'm sorry for lying, but thank you."

Y/N dumbfoundedly stared at him for a few moments, her heart beat getting steady with each thump. Here was a man she admired, loved more than anyone else in the world, telling her that he harbored the same feelings for her. How crazy was that?! Not trusting her words, she simply pulled him into another hug. Sebastian wrapped his arms tight around her, pulling her flush against him.

"Can I kiss you, doll?"

She slowly pulled away from him and nodded, shyly biting her lip. Grinning at the endearing gesture, Sebastian cupped her face and leaned in, gently pressing his lips to hers. The kiss grew hungry in a matter of seconds, and Y/N responded just as eagerly. His hands slid down to her waist and tugged on it, pulling her on his lap. She straddled his thighs as they continued kissing.

"Fuck," he groaned when they finally pulled away from each other, out of breath and panting. "You see what you do to me, doll?" Sebastian spoke huskily as he took her hand, placing it right on top of the tent that was forming in his pants. "Oh," Y/N whimpered when she felt him, the sound going straight to his shaft. "How about I take you home and we recreate some of the scenes from your stories, hm?"

"O-Okay."

"Good girl."

---

A/N: What a meta experience 🤡 Leave a like if you enjoyed, thanks for reading!

[jesslockwood]

Photo Opportunities

Word Count: 2.7k

Pairing(s): Tom Holland x Actress!Reader

Warnings: FLUFF with a slightly (barely) suggestive sentence towards the end 

A/n: damn I can't write anything except actress reader? smh but this is for @londonspidey ‘s sit-com Writing challenge (ik I'm early lol) but I was so excited I wrote the whole thing in one go lmao the prompt is bolded!

Calling yourself a fan was an understatement. You were obsessed with anything and everything marvel. And oddly enough, you could after today say you were in the club. It wasn’t a public fact yet, until later that day actually, at the Marvel panel at comic con that you were being announced as the actress for the character, Felica Hardy and no one else knew except for the people who cast you and your best friend who signed an NDA. You were technically still a known actress for your roles on television mainly as Thalia on the PJO Disney + series and a couple of still decently sized films. 

You were currently wrapping up signing autographs for fans of yours for today. Your team had planned it out so it wasn’t suspicious that you were at the con with a few of your castmates scattered doing other junkets and press so people wouldn’t guess who they were acting as the cast for new marvel projects. 

You had been planning to go meet your best friend, who wasn’t in the industry before getting a text that she bought you both a photo-op with someone and she wouldn’t tell you who. You couldn’t only assume it was a marvel actor that you would indeed, freak out. 

Y/b/n: btw I brought you a mask. I get the wig lol.

You: please tell me it doesn’t cover my full face. Also, how are we posing?

Y/b/n: I bought as many photo ops as I could so a lot of different ones, And if I tell you the poses it’ll spoil it.

You: is this with the money I pay you to be my assistant with? Lol fine I’m omw with security

Y/b/n: maybe… 

Y/b/n: and they’ll need more backup security for who we’re getting a photo op with than you do for your hellfire.

You roll your eyes before taking your stuff and exiting the booth, before heading out the backways with staff security and your detailed security for the day. You only had security because you wanted to explore the con when you weren’t needed.

Your best friend had also been your assistant for the con weekend, but you didn’t want her to be confined to you the whole three days so when she could, you would let her explore it, at least she could experience it as a fan, right?

When you made it to that part of the building, you wanted to wait in line with her, which your security didn’t agree to so she texted you when there were about five people ahead of her. She was one of the last in line, with you asking her to be kind, so others would get their chance to be first with whomever it was. 

When she texted you and your detailed exit, getting a few stares and others taking their phones out to either take photos or tweet, you wave at them before joining your best friend in line.

“Here,” she says before handing you none other than a black cat mask before she puts on a red wig. 

You glare at her slightly trying to not make a scene, before putting it on. 

“I’m assuming you're Mary Jane?” you laugh figuring out that it had to be someone from Spider-Man.

“How’d you- never mind.” She laughs with you.

She then explains how she’s going to pose for your five photo ops, joking in between how she should “get a raise for this”.

You catch sight of him before sucking in your breath. This was either going to go down amazingly or terribly, there was no in-between with you. 

“Excuse Me, are you Y/n Y/l/n?”

You turn around and are met by some fans who were standing in line behind you.

“I am! How’s your con going?” you ask politely to the two of them.

“It's going amazing! We love you as Thalia! Could we maybe get a picture? Only if it’s okay?”

“Of course! Thank you for supporting me!” your best friend grabs their phone to take the photo, before you take off the mask, and stand between the two fans, and your best friend snaps a few photos. 

“Thank you so much! And Are you fans of Tom?”

You start slowly walking back to catch up to the line. 

“Yeah, I love him as Spiderman, but I also enjoy his other roles. He's very talented, I'd love to work with him one day!” 

“Have you seen him in Uncharted?  We love Him as Nathan drake!”

“I have, he was amazing per usual! How are you two posing with him?”

They show you their innovative pose. You laugh and tell them it's great before you have to wish them goodbye before heading up for your turn for the photo op. 

“How do we want to pose- hang on, I recognize you!”

You freeze slightly before your friend mouths for you to flirt. You look down at the mask in your hand before getting into character and saying “Of course you do Spidey, I'm always causing you trouble.” you put on the mask and wink. 

He seems slightly stunned, laughing, feeling like he’s seen you somewhere, not only because he found you extremely gorgeous, while in his peripheral vision he sees his brother/ assistant, Harry waving like a madman on the side. 

Your friend directs you both through the poses, first, one both him putting “webs” onto you as she looks over his shoulder, the second one, both of you kissing his cheeks, the third, all jumping in the air in your best superhero poses, the fourth one she gets a photo op alone and the last one she gives to you,

“Seriously, who are you?”

“Your Wildest dreams, baby,” you say, taking off the mask. 

Your best friend yells “freestyle” from the sidelines before Tom dips you, gently, with you shocked, holding the mask out with your free arm and the photo captures that moment. 

 He gently helps you stand back up fully, not before you drop the mask.

“Nice moves Spider-Man.”

“Not so bad yourself, Black Cat.”

You laugh before, taking off with your best friend, well more her dragging you to the printing station leaving the mask behind. Tom picks it up before shoving it in his back pocket to hopefully give back if he could find you. 

-

`You were sitting in the green room, trending on Twitter before you were actually supposed to be trending on Twitter, and god knows where else.  

Someone had snuck a video of you and Tom, up till him dipping you, and a video of you interacting with the fans in the line.

Your Y/b/n was currently reading off some tweets out loud

“‘A kind queen we stan.’  I agree, I also agree with ‘Date her if you can't date me tom!!!’.

‘THALIA AND PETER PARKER??? My two fandoms have collided.’ same, same. Oo this one says, ‘if she ain’t playing black cat I will sue marvel.’ I'm dying at the reply ‘She needs to post the photos or I'll sue her!’. This one’s funny, ‘she could squash him like a bug in heels but he liked his queen like that.’.”

She pauses watching you texting.

“Y/n? Y/n?”

“What? Sorry I was only half listening. I was texting my publicist. She said to stay on the DL until tonight. 

“Well we should get food, you haven't eaten since this morning.”

“By the way, your show has shot to number one on Disney +. Also, you have like three times the followers you had before, probably cause you're trending on every platform, even Tumblr!”

“Wow you should just become my social media manager now.” you joke trying to ease the joy yet weirded out feeling in your stomach.

“Does that come with a raise? Because after today I've spent way too much of what I'm paid.” she jokes back.

-

After finishing his photo ops Tom asked Harry who she was and to find out. By the time he finished autographs for the day, Tom and Harry walked to the panel room in the back for announcements, one that included him for the new Avengers movie, while Harry gave him the rundown.

“So she’s an actress, she plays Thalia on Disney plus’ Percy Jackson series, and that's her most known project. The other girl with her is her assistant best friend, and now she's trending everywhere. People dug up some old photos of her being a marvel/Spider-Man fan, so there's that. And she's here at the con for the rest of the weekend. She's doing photo ops tomorrow at one, and yes she's single from what I gather since you were looking at her like this.” he makes a weird face before tom smacks him.

“And plus you have time in your schedule to get a photo op with her, that is if you eat lunch quickly.”

That gave Tom an idea. 

“Harry I’m going to need you to book me one, oh and help me find a Spider-Man costume!” He says, before leaving harry to do ‘assistant’ work. entering the green room for the announcements, watching them announce a new movie.

“We are so excited to announce to the Marvel Universe, and spider-verse-” that perked tom’s ears, “-directed by Gina Prince-Bythewood, and today we are announcing our amazing Miss Felicia Hardy, please give a warm welcome to the stage, Your Black Cat!”

You suddenly emerged in an aisle way, dressed in all black with a leather jacket, black ankle boots, and of course black sunglasses indoors.

The music is marvel music until it suddenly changes after a recorded laugh from you into “I can’t be tamed by Miley Cyrus”.

You start owning the music while saying hi and touching fans’ hands. You decide to take off your sunglasses and throwing them to a fan, for them to keep, before getting on stage.

“What a Performance from the one the only Y/n Y/l/n!”

You laugh, being met with the loudest applause you had heard all con before being handed a Mic. 

“Thank you but I'm a terrible dancer.” You Joke.

Tom was staring at the screen stunned. You had been the black cat all along. You were in the marvel universe and spidey one,  so he'd definitely be seeing more of you. The hard part is that you seemed so genuine when you talked, interacted with fans and was no doubt, stunning. 

“Better close your mouth or the flies will get in.” Tom turns around to find the voice of none other than his friend slash bully, Sebastian Stan, along with Anthony Mackie.

“Looks like the kid has a crush!” Anthony laughs, pointing to the screen you were on.

“I-I don’t! I don’t even know her!” Tom tries to come to his own defense, hopelessly.

“She’s got you whipped already don’t even deny it.” Harry comes in, joining the teasing of one, Tom Holland.

“Maybe we can invite her out for drinks tonight, then fanboy over here can meet her, and then probably scare her off!” Anthony mentions.

“You haven’t looked on the internet? They’ve already met.” Seb says, before showing Anthony twitter. 

Anthony stands there slightly shocked before bursting into laughter.

“Well, she’s damn well a keeper for Tom since she obviously likes him.”

A staff member peaks their head in the green room to tell Tom he’s up next.

“Well, that’s my cue to leave you two!”

On the other hand, you were on an adrenaline high from being on stage, and seeing all the fans. You knew tomorrow was going to be crazy, as you expected people to book your photo op left and right since the announcement. 

You had decided to decline an offer from your fellow marvel universe castmates, Sebastian Stan and Anthony Mackie, which they so graciously told you that whenever you’re free, the offer still stood. 

You had gotten to your hotel room seeing your phone blowing up on the social media apps for the second time that day. 

You responded to the important stuff, before heading to bed, knowing it was going to be hectic.

-

You had been right, it was absolutely insane, the number of people who showed up. You had fully booked all your time slots for photo ops. You had seen so many people dressed up in marvel cosplay, ranging from Loki to Ironman, even some people dressed up as your character, which was wildly insane to see.

You had been nearing the end of the line and had enjoyed every moment with the fans, and you couldn’t wait for your autographing session later that day, to truly get a chance to talk to the fans and connect with them and how they felt about you being their beloved Black Cat. 

After a few more photos, posing how they wanted, you see a fully dressed, head to toe, mask and all, Spider-Man. You had seen some spider-mans but most took off their masks to snap a picture. The person was the last in line. 

“Hey Black Cat.” The southern American accented voice tells you, seeming very familiar. 

“Hey, Spider, what poses do you have up your sleeve?” you ask kindly.

“I bought a few, Cat.” they laugh.

“Okay, You can do whatever a spider can right?” you pull out a line out of the comics jokingly.

“I can do flips if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Is that some kind of nerd pick-up line? Because it’s only kind of working.” you laugh. 

“I really can, but this is one.”

He gets down on one knee, holding a black cat mask instead of a ring. The photographer captures the shocked expression on your face.

“I- Don’t- What- Spider I-” 

“Ow My feelings…” Suddenly their voice changes into a British accent before they pull off the mask to reveal-

“Tom?”

“I guess you don’t have a spidey sense darling?” The photographer captures the moment without warning eating the moment up. 

You laugh at that. 

“I guess you found out my true identity Spider. And it’s nice to officially meet you, Tom.”

He laughs, just as nervous as you, he notices he has gotten closer to you and a strand of hair loosely is blowing in your face, so naturally, he pushes it behind your ear. Another snap of the camera can be heard. 

“NOW KISS!” a voice belonging to your best friend yells from the side, mid-eating a churro.

You both laugh really hard at that.

The both of you calm down, slowly leaning lost in the moment. The camera snaps again. You both look at the photographer weirded out, and they just shrug.

“Wait can you actually do a flip?” you ask, pulling away, not wanting prying eyes aka the photographer, to pry in your business. 

“I can, though I’d show you later, maybe in the greenroom?”

“That sounds naughty, but, sure.” you joke around. 

He laughs before, you both take off from the area going to grab the photos.

-

After spending most of the day together when you could, you get Tom’s number, before heading back to your hotel room. He texts you as soon as you get back. 

Spider: I had fun today, minus finding our assistants making out.

You: we should ‘snog’ too, it’ll gross them out ;)

You: I had fun too btw. Are you leaving tomorrow?

Spider: lol we should. And yeah an early flight, 6 am to be exact. Hbu?

You: Yeah me too... another day another dollar lol

Spider: ill miss you, Cat.

You: stop talking like we’ll never see each other again lol. As a matter of fact, come to my room, we’re watching a movie!

Spider: alright, I’ll order snacks. 

  You sigh smiling at your phone. You haven’t felt this giddy in a long time.

Your phone pings with a few Instagram notifications.

Tomholland2013 has started following you.

Tomholland2013 has tagged you in a photo.

You open Instagram to find the photo of him “proposing” to you posted.

“Ow, my leg, my- feelings...Welcome to the Universe, Cat.” the photo is captioned. You decide to post, the photo of him dipping you.

“So what do you say, Spider? Wanna help me pull off the Heist of the Heist of the Century?” you caption it, Before getting comfortable to watch a movie. 

What an opportunity ;)

Tags:

@lolooo22 @webmeupspiderdaddy @harryhollandsgirlfriend @spideyspeaches @greenorangevioletgrass @queenofthepouges @sheranatic111 @keithseabrook27

[sunnysunoo]

Love Letters ; Sim Jake

Pairing: Jake X Reader

warnings: explicit language and cursing

word count: 3k words

genre: friends to lovers au! fluff with tiny pieces of crack lmao

Jake was always known for being this perfect guy in school. I mean, they're not wrong. They always described him as if he's this walking piece of art in the hallways. People would stop to just stare at him. You'd stare at him all day too, but you set priorities first: writing him love letters.

You're no Lara Jean, but I guess you can say that she's what inspired you to write Jake letters. Who needs Peter Kavinsky when Jake Shim exists anyways?

note: Not me completely disappearing off of tumblr for like months and then showing up again suddenly lol. I got really busy the past few months since I was completing requirements for school, and I really didn't have the motivation to do anything at the time so I took so time off to take care of myself first so I hope you understand :) But now since it's summer break, I am given at least 2 more months until I go back to school in August :)) Here's the long-awaited Jake imagine that I completely forgot about lmao hope you enjoy <3

P.S I finished writing this at 1:26 am so please excuse the really shitty plot and grammar ill rewrite it once i wake up

tag list: @cha-raena ( sorry for the rlly late post bestie )

Dear Jake, First of all, I will never call you Jaeyun because calling you by your English name makes me feel like I'm your friend. Calling you by your Korean name makes us feel like we're cold strangers to one another and I don't want that. I want us to be something more than that, but it's hard when you don't even know who I am. I'm surprised how you don't grow tired of me just dropping letters right into your locker every time you open it, and that's one of the things I love about you. You don't just throw away people's efforts and you treasure them with care. It makes my heart beat so fast as if I ran miles away from here.

We're already one year left until we graduate high school, and I don't want to end my high school years without you realizing my feelings for you. I know for sure that you would never reciprocate the feelings that I have towards you, so I want to treat this as closure in case we do forget about each other in the future. Yours truly,

Moon

__

"How is this person not over you? That's like the tenth one this month," Jay said, looking over Jake as he reads the letter from his secret admirer. Jake has always been receiving these letters from the same person everyday for the past four months. He's thankful for the letters because they definitely make his day better, knowing that there's someone out there who loves him as who he is regardless of looks. He's not gonna lie that these little notes and letters make his heart race too. "Do you have any plans with finding the person behind the letters?" Jay asked as he watches his best friend trying to hide the small smile that's been growing. No one really knows who this mysterious person is and why they decided to name themselves the moon, but we don't judge anyone in here. If they want to be the moon in their next life, then so be it. "I really want to find the person who's making these letters," Jake shoved the letter in his backpack, trying to not wrinkle it. "But I don't know where to start." "Who's finding who?" A voice popped suddenly beside the presence of the two boys. You leaned beside the locker beside Jake's, watching him as he grabs his books from his locker. "Did Moon drop your daily letter today again?" "They did as usual," Jake wasn't even surprised. He would expect the letters every time he enters the school in the morning. He would open his locker to see the usual small letter placed inside his locker. He usually arrives at seven or earlier, but he's surprised that he could never even catch a glance of this anonymous sender around the campus. "Should I go to school at five in the morning?" "Five in the morning? Isn't that a bit too early?" You questioned, followed by a shaky breath. "The school doesn't even open until six." "I could just walk to that nearby convenience store I always pass by to grab a coffee." He argues, closing his locker shut before walking towards his classroom.

You and Jay followed beside him, and you sneered under your breath, "You don't even wake up to your alarm clock."

"Why don't you even want me to go early anyway?" He glances as you try to give him an answer. But before you could say something, Jay replies first.

"You’re probably hiding something." He said. You rolled your eyes and narrowed your eyes at him. "You are so weird." You grunted, before walking ahead of them. You feel panicked because you were scared that you made yourself obvious to them.

__

You were inside your classroom sitting on your desk. There were only fifteen minutes left before lunch, but you had eaten your packed meal before instead of going to your school cafeteria. You were fidgeting in your place, conflicted about Jake finding his secret admirer, not knowing that it was you who's been sending him letters the past few months. You're not scared of him finding out that the letters were from you; that was the entire reason why you wrote him letters in the first place. You're scared of how he was gonna confront you about it. Would he like you back? Would he hate you? Would he avoid you?

Your mind was full of scenarios but you were suddenly brought back to reality when a hand planted itself on your desk. You look up and saw Jay standing in front of you, eating sushi with his other hand. His face kinda looks like he knows something, and it's freaking you out a bit.

"What?" You asked, suddenly flustered over how his eyes stared right into you. He took the seat in front of your desk and flipped it so it was facing you. He sat down and blurted the phrase that you were dreading to hear from anyone.

"So, you like Jake?"

You suddenly feel like punching him in the face with his sushi.

"What??" Your body felt like, and you were left a nervous mess. Your heart like it was going to pump right out of your chest any minute, and your hands started to sweat.

Jay's mouth formed into a smirk. He caught you. "Jake may be a bit oblivious, but I can totally see right through you."

“Haha...no you don’t,” You tried to deny, but it was all useless when his expression looked unconvinced.

“Oh yeah? Then why are you all red? You look like a bursting tomato.”

“You don’t know that," You leaned further into your seat, playing with the strings of your hoodie.

“C’mon Y/N, you’re not even trying. Just give up and admit it,” Jay was trying to help you confess your feelings for Jake. Frankly, he knew it was you sending him letters this whole time—how can Jake not see it?

With a heavy sigh, you slumped and laid your head on your desk, embarrassed. “Fine. I like him, okay? Are you happy now?”

The smirk on his face grew wider, feeling proud of himself. You are not dealing with his annoying crap this early in the morning. He grinned and munched on his half-eaten sushi. “I knew it.”

“Congratulations,” It was muffled because you hid your red face away from him. All that was on your mind now was how you could book yourself a flight all the way across the world.

“But seriously, since when did you have a crush on him?” You raised your head to face him, giving him a look that could kill, except Jay finds it entertaining rather than intimidating.

“I started having a crush on him when we were in fifth grade. It was at a friend's birthday party, and he saw me being all quiet and lonely. Honestly, I forgot who’s birthday that was.” You told him the very first time you had discovered feelings.

“He saw how sad I looked so he accompanied me the whole time. He was even trying to feel more included in the games and stuff.” You felt a smile ghosting on your lips as you can still vividly remember how you felt your heart tug the first time. “It was kinda like I fell in love at first sight.”

Jay faked a gag, so you lightly punched him in the shoulder. He may be a bit of an asshole, but he’s one the most caring and kind people you’ve ever met. It honestly felt good spilling out your feelings about Jake to him.

Speaking of, Jake was watching you two play around and laugh at Jay's little jokes from outside, and he felt something burning from inside him. Was it that he felt jealous of you and Jay?

No, he can’t be...right?

Maybe it was because of how he felt separated from you and Jay because of him being a separate class.

Yeah, maybe it's because of that.

__

Dear Jake,

I just had the most bizarre day today, and I felt like telling you about it.

It was chemistry period, and we had to be partnered with someone for a lab project. I ended up getting paired with Yeojin. We kinda created this unexpected friendship, which I love. We would crack jokes at each other, tell funny stories, it was so fun to be with her that we had completely forgotten about our project. So now, we both got a detention slip for making an accidental explosion.

How about you? How was your day? I hope it was just as fun as mine. If you feel like the day just wasn't as happy or you're feeling down, just now that it's okay to feel that way because days like these just lasts for 24 hours. It will be all over before you know it and you'll be greeted by another day. Maybe it will be different, and you would be all happy again just like how my day went. Maybe being with you would be my happiest day yet, and I couldn't wait for that day to come. See you soon :)

Love,

Moon

__

"Yeojin!" Jake called, seeing her walk down the opposite way. "Hey, mind if I ask you something?"

"Hey Jake," She greeted him with a smile. "Sure, go ahead."

"Could you perhaps give me any information about your partner in Chemistry?" He had hopes of getting any kind of description about his mysterious sender, but he was instead given a sad frown on Yeojin's face.

"Sorry Jake, but that person told me not to tell you about their information." She gave an apologetic smile. "I wish you all the best in finding them!"

Jake muttered a small "okay," and sighed before walking away, feeling defeated.

Yeojin knew that he was gonna ask about Moon the moment he called her from across the hall. She couldn't wait to tell you about this.

__

"Hey Y/N," A voice said from behind. You turned around to see Jake with his backup hung on his shoulder. He brought his hand up and raked his hair, and you felt your face grow red. Jake is like a gift from the gods. How can someone look so ethereal even if they're just standing there? You could stare at him all day. You couldn't even understand a thing he said until he started waving his hands in front of you.

"Hello?" You blinked multiple times as you were brought back out to reality. You saw Jake's face grow into concern. "Are you okay? spaced out."

"O-oh..No, I'm completely fine." You reassured him, feeling embarrassed. "What were you saying again?"

"I was asking you if you wanted to go to school with me early tomorrow."

Well, shit.

Your eyes started to go wide, and your hands started to go clammy.

"Tomorrow?" You repeated, voice trembling.

'Well, yeah." He pouted his lips, and you felt like melting into a small puddle in your place. Your heart started to pound heavily.

Oh my fucking god, he is so adorable.

"Okay, sure I can go with you tomorrow," You weakly smiled at him, slightly tense.

How we're you going to give him the letter now?

__

"Good Morning," Jake said as he watches you close the gates of your house. It was past five in the morning, and you were a mess.

"Morning," You replied back before running your fingers through your hair, getting rid of any flyaways.

As you started walking your way to the bus stop, Jake kept on glancing towards you from time to time. He knew you were pretty, but since when did you become really beautiful in his eyes?

The walk was pretty quiet, but it was a comfortable silence. For him, mostly.

Meanwhile, you couldn't stop freaking out. You had written a letter the night before, but you don't know how you were going to slip it into his locker without him taking notice. If he saw you, he would know.

"Are you sure you're okay? You've been like this since yesterday," Jake blurted. You looked at him before heaving a sigh.

"It's nothing," You mouthed, suddenly feeling anxious and gloomy.

"Something on your mind?"

"Something like that." It was hopeless. I guess he would have to miss this letter today. It was the first time you skipped a day, and you're feeling guilty that you would have to see Jake's face sadden that he wouldn't receive it today.

As you two stop at the bus stop, Jake looked slightly panicked as he was rummaging through the pockets of his blazer before looking through his bag. "Hey, do you have an extra pen? I left mine at home and I have a quiz today."

You snickered, "Out of all the days, Sim Jake. The same day you have a quiz is the same day you forget your pen."

"Very funny." He scoffed.

As you unzipped your bag to grab your pencil case, a folded piece of paper fell out without you realizing it. When Jake went to pick it up, he notices that it was folded the same way as the letters in his locker. It looked so identical.

Once you already got your pencil case out, you were about to hand it to him when you saw what he was holding that made your body freeze with your hand holding the case in the air.

"Why were one of my letters inside your bag?" He glanced at you, waiting for you to reply.

If you were freaking out before, this is a whole other thing. The thing that you were fearing the most is happening right before you.

"Maybe it fell into my bag yesterday..." You stammered, making up an excuse to look like it was an accident. You were tightly holding onto your pencil case, chanting many curse words in your head as you watch Jake unfold the letter.

"I don't think I've received this one yet," He said before he opened the letter and read it.

You watch as his expression formed into confusion as he reads through the paper. It only took a few moments before something in him clicked that it was you sending him the letters.

"Y/N," He began, and you started quivering in fear.

You should've known this would happen, but you didn't expect it to happen this sooner. In fact, you believed that this wouldn't happen at all. But it did.

"Let me explain," You eventually gave up and accepted fate and watch as your identity as "Moon" be revealed to your crush. You're now exposed so you didn't have any other choice but to explain everything. "Yes, I am Moon. I was the one writing you the letters that you've been getting in your locker."

Jake's face was unreadable. He looked bewildered and puzzled. He was trying to comprehend what was happening right now. All this time, it was you?

"I started crushing on you when we attended that birthday party before. I didn't want to confess my feelings for you because I was scared that you were going to harshly reject me, so I started writing down letters as a way to tell you how I feel about you without making you feel awkward around me." You continued, eyes suddenly taking an interest in your shoes. They were brand new too.

Jake was silent, and you felt your heart crack into pieces. You were mad at yourself for being so careless about it that he ended up finding out about you as his secret admirer. You wanted nothing else but to run back home, lock yourself in your room and cry with your sad playlist on loop.

You were expecting a harsh rejection coming from him, but what surprised was how he took dangerous steps towards you, minimizing the gap between you two. He placed his hand under your chin, forcing you to look up at him.

"I don't plan on rejecting you Y/N," You stare into his eyes as it reflects the sunlight of the early morning. "I'm actually happy that it was you."

You look at him, puzzled. He lowly chuckles under his breath before leaning over to place his lips against yours. It was a light, quick kiss, but it brought you feeling ecstatic. You've dreamed of this moment before, and now that it happened, you thanked your clumsiness.

As he pulled away, you were sure your face was a red mess.

"Thank you," His smile was as bright as the stars in the sky. It was the most beautiful thing you've ever seen. "Thank you for making me like I'm special to someone."

You felt flustered over his words. You were scared that he could hear the sound of your heart pounding loudly. The butterflies in your stomach were going wild, and you felt like this was all a dream.

"So, what am I to you now?" You broke into a smile as he grabs your hand, intertwining your fingers with his.

Jake acted as if he was thinking, "Hm..maybe my best friend still?"

He bursts into a fit of giggles as he sees your smile slowly disappear, replacing it with a look of disbelief. You removed your hand from his and walked at a faster pace away from him.

He ran to match your pace beside you before holding your hand again, "I'm sorry, I won't ever do that again. Is my girl mad at me?"

"Oh my god, it's only five-fifty, Jake." You too broke into laughter over his cheesiness, but your heart fluttered over the thought of Jake calling you his.

__

HERE’S A LITTLE BONUS! since I've made you guys wait for 4 months :(

"What the fuck?" Was the first thing You heard from Jay as you and Jake entered the classroom. All of your classmates were staring at your and his hands intertwined together.

Jay stood in front of you two, crossing his arms together. "Can one of you explain when this happened?" he motioned towards your linking hands. You and Jake smiled at each other before walking away, leaving Jay in a fit of joy, and confusion.

[pinkpastels113]

Talk Numbers To Me

Rating: G

Word Count: 3,326

Pairing: Chloe Beale/Beca Mitchell

Summary: In which Chloe gets help from her mathematical genius.

End B/C. One-Shot. Fluff. Tumblr prompt.

Read on ao3 or ff.net or below.

Prompt from anon; hope you all like.

Chloe shuffles her papers, kicking her feet in frustration at the numbers swirling in her head. Her hand flies to her hair, the pencil tangling in its strands.

“You okay there, Chloe?”

She looks up, sees Stacie blink questioningly at her from the microwave, and gives a tentative smile. “Yeah, just...” she sighs. “Homework.”

Stacie nods, retrieving her dinner burritos and closing the microwave door. “Do you need help?”

Chloe bites her lip and looks back down at the sheets of homework staring back at her from the kitchen table, its once clean blank lines now covered in blurry grey smudges. She doesn’t want to be of any inconvenience. “Nah, I’ll be okay. Thank you though, Stacie.”

“Are you sure?” Stacie grabs for a napkin before making her way over, “Because if it’s science, I can definitely help you out.”

Chloe carefully detangles her pencil from her pounding head, laying it back down onto the wooden surface. It’s not science, but something in Stacie’s tone of voice has her intrigued. “Oh?”

Stacie pulls out a chair, sits. She sets her styrofoam plate down onto an area not littered by mountains of paperwork and reaches for the one directly in front of Chloe. “Yup. I double major in Chemistry and Biomedical engineering. Which pretty much covers all the sciences that you could possibly take in your second senior year.”

Chloe raises her eyebrows, impressed. “Wow. I didn’t know that you double major, Stace. That’s amazing.”

Her fellow Bella just shrugs, eyes quickly scanning the page. “Eh, it’s alright. I love science anyways so it’s no big deal.” She then pauses, presumably figuring out that the subject of Chloe’s dilemma is most definitely not the one of which she is an expert in. “Oh, this is math.”

Chloe groans just at the mention of the word, tilting her head back to the fluorescent light of the kitchen ceiling. “Yeah, math. The worst form of torture in the entire world.”

Stacie just chuckles, shaking her head, “Only to people who don’t understand it.” She then stands, clutching Chloe’s topic of frustration between a thumb and forefinger. “I would love to help you out, Chloe, but I think someone else may be better at explaining this for you. She is a math genius after all.”

Chloe gets out of her chair as well, brows furrowing curiously as she trails behind the tall brunette, only then realizing that they are making their way to the living room, where the sounds of the tv can be heard, signalling the presence of the rest of the Bellas. “Someone else? Who else could be better at math than a Biomedical engineer?”

“Someone who actually studies it.”

And before Chloe could even ponder over which Bella would possibly want to subject themselves to the torture that is freaking mathematics, they have reached the entrance of the living room, and Stacie has called out the answer.

“Hey, Beca!”

What?

Chloe gapes, completely taken aback as she watches the unrequited love of her life look up from the screen of her phone at the mention of her name. “Yeah?”

Stacie waves the paper in her hand even as she continues to stalk forward. “Chloe needs your help with some math. I said that I would, but I just figured that a double math and physics major such as yourself would be a much better and viable option.”

Understandably, Chloe is not the only one in the room to have no previous knowledge of this news, or the only one to be completely shocked by it. Fat Amy turns away from the tv to quirk a disbelieving brow. “Double major? Shawshank? Math and Physics ?”

Chloe couldn’t help but agree. She knows that it’s wrong and impolite to underestimate a person’s abilities on what he or she could or not do, especially when said abilities are in academics—after all, they are all still in college—but Beca ? One of her best friends in the whole wide world, not to mention her secret crush/obsession/favorite person/love of her life and possibly all the lives she could possibly have hereafter—if she believes in that kind of stuff, which she kind of does, especially if it pertains to a possibility of her getting together with said love in one of those lives in the far future—with whom she had been pining for—especially at the times where it had been particularly difficult and tiresome—seemingly since the beginning of time? Beca, who would always tend to blow off school until the very last minute; Beca, who would rather spend time fiddling with her music in her room all by herself with just her and her headphones rather than indulge in books or people or anything not involving of her mixing board unless someone—usually Chloe—had to physically drag her away from the screen of her computer to go hang out? Beca?

Shouldn’t she have known everything there is to know about Beca in all these years—albeit technically that only includes two, but sometimes she really just feels like they have known each other since they were kids—that they’ve been friends? Teammates? Roommates? Family?

Beca rolls her eyes, stretching her arms in front of her chest to pull her body into a proper sitting position on the side of the couch. She locks and tosses aside her phone. “Yeah, I couldn’t decide which one to pick so I just decided to go for both. You guys didn’t know?”

Chloe finally finds it within herself to blurt out something that does not include her incredulity of the small brunette being capable of taking the most ruthless and tedious majors that there could possibly be in all the majors one could take at Barden University, “No, Beca, we didn’t.”

Jessica, Ashley, Flo, and Cynthia Rose collectively shake their heads in agreement.

Lilly just blinks, and Fat Amy’s lone brow stays exactly where it is.

Stacie snorts, Chloe’s paper dangling casually between two perfectly manicured nails against her side as she crosses her arms, shifting her weight onto one foot, “Figures. I suppose you all didn’t know that I am a double major too, did you?”

Six of the Bellas’ attention spotlight on the slightly indignant brunette, gasps and shouts of surprise and amazement instantly tossed into the air, Stacie’s explanation of the functionality of Biomedical Engineering immediately a follow up, but Chloe barely notices, because she is too busy having a silent exchange with her co-captain still situated on the couch.

She widens her eyes. Is this true? Are you being serious?

Beca nods, smirks. Hell yeah I am.

Chloe tilts her head, pouts. Why didn’t you tell me?

Beca shrugs. Didn’t find a reason to. She then rubs the back of her neck, looking suddenly sheepish and uncomfortable. And it’s not like it’s a big deal.

Chloe frowns, shakes her hands about. It is a big deal to me ! She then gestures between the pair of them. We’re friends, Becs, we are supposed to tell each other these kinds of things!

Beca tips her chin to the front of her chest, tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, and then peers at her shyly through her lashes. Sorry, Chlo.

Chloe’s heart melts, her feet immediately carrying her forward, and she lowers herself onto the couch cushions next to Beca, taking extensive care to not sit on her phone. She offers a soft and forgiving smile, before pulling her best friend swiftly into a hug. Don’t be sorry, Beca. She presses a kiss to her cheek. It’s okay.

Beca’s body relaxes, and somehow Chloe understands that the small brunette is relieved of the fact that Chloe is not mad or judgemental or flighty about how she is a double major in both math and physics. Chloe wonders if that is the reason why Beca hadn’t told her—that she had been afraid of her reaction—and if that is the reason why she had put on a brave face in front of the Bellas.

Beca always pretends like everything is fine and ineffective to her well being when she feels extremely self-conscious. She likes to put on a hard shell and proclaim the attitude of a “badass” to balm over her real emotions, to put on a show of I don’t care and whatever to mask over the I do care and I do feel.

Chloe gets the feeling that if it hadn’t been for Stacie—who’d most likely just stumbled across the discovery by accident—none of them would have known, until possibly graduation, when someone questioningly points out the lettering of her certificate, the duality of her degree.

Beca is bashful, self-conscious, secretive , of her abilities and status as a mathematical genius.

Chloe puts her lips to Beca’s ear. “Help me with my homework, please.”

She feels her best friend shiver, pull away, her beautiful stormy blues shy and reluctant as they flit across Chloe’s face, search between her eyes, and Chloe just sits and stays and waits until she says yes.

“Okay.”

Chloe beams, her arms unconsciously going around to surround Beca’s back for another embrace before she pulls away, and she stands up and makes her way over to Stacie, a bounce in her step as she taps the tall brunette—who’s now making fun of herself for being the “hot one” of the group—on the shoulder to get her attention, smiling gratefully when she turns and notices and hands her paper over.

“Thanks, Stace,” she says, winking to signal the double sentiment of her gratitude for both the help and the revelation of the information, grinning widely as Stacie comprehends and nods.

Hazel greens flash quickly and meaningfully to the slight brunette in the room, “Anytime.”

Chloe lets her return to her conversation with the rest of the Bellas, spinning around to purse her lips questioningly to ask Beca where it is that she wants to go.

My room.

Chloe leads the way, making a brisk detour to the kitchen to gather up her things, and she speeds up the stairs and skips down the hall, letting herself into the double bedded bedroom Beca currently shares with Amy.

“So why’d you choose math?” She decides between the bed and the desk chair, going for the bed.

Beca takes the chair. “I dunno,” she shrugs, “Just wanted to, I guess.”

Chloe sets the papers down onto the bedding, and makes herself comfortable. “You must really enjoy it for it to be a half of your double major, Becs.”

Beca gives a noncommittal hum, crossing her legs and wiping her hands onto the dark denim.

“And what about Physics? Any reason why you wanted to study that as well?”

“Oh,” Beca glances to her mixing board, “That’s just for sound engineering. It really makes it easier to find and test out the best places for a good mashup, and it’s really just useful for the recording and production of music.”

Chloe makes a small noise of understanding, following her line of sight briefly before going for the subject catalysing the shocking news of that evening. She picks up the first sheet of her homework, smoothing it out before offering it enthusiastically forwards, “So, math genius, you wanna let me know how it’s done?”

Beca grins, one hand caught between her thighs modestly as the other one reaches for the paper, “Sure, Beale. Good to know that you’re actually in need of my help for something.”

Chloe pushes back her hair, blinking at her in confusion, “What do you mean?”

Beca hides her face behind the frustrating sheet of paper, “Nothing. Just that you always seem to know exactly what you’re doing. Everybody always seems to go to you for help, never the other way around.”

Chloe’s heart flutters in her chest, and she has to push it down before it can go all swoony over the likely unintentional romantic admission. Later. “I don’t always seem to know exactly what I’m doing, Beca. I usually just wing it, and hope for the best.” At Beca’s disbelieving but playful scoff, she leans forward to bend over the top half of her paper, revealing Beca’s face, “And I’m here now, aren’t I? Math has always been a subject that I can absolutely not deal with.”

Beca rolls the tip of her tongue over the fronts of her teeth, “Only cuz nobody but nerds like me actually gets it. Still doesn’t establish the fact that you’re no less amazing and brilliant at everything else you do.”

If Beca had been Chloe’s girlfriend—if she had been dreaming that she is—Chloe would have lunged forward and kissed her senseless.

Settling for biting her lower lip anxiously to withhold the urge, Chloe gestures to the paper in her hands. “Well? Do you know how to do this?”

Beca looks like she’s just been snapped out of a daze. “Oh yeah, totally.” She spins around in her chair to reach for her bag, unzipping it and pulling out a tiny whiteboard from the utmost layer, as well as an Expo marker. “It’s kinda easy, actually. I can explain it.”

Chloe giggles at the materials in her hands as Beca turns back around. “Aw, that’s so cute!”

Beca glares, laying the whiteboard on one side of her lap and the paper in the other. “Shut up. It’s just convenient.”

Chloe mimes zipping and locking her lips and throwing away the key, but the smile on her face is irreplaceable.

Beca nudges open the cap of the Expo, letting it drop softly onto the floor at her feet as she rereads the question. “So, it says that this Marco dude needs to figure out where his stupid ball is gonna land if he throws it over the top of a building, so we have to make a graph.”

Chloe laughs, already comfortable with the familiar way Beca seems to make any situation less intimidating, “Do you talk to yourself like that when you do your own math?”

“Do you want my help or not?”

“Sorry, sorry,” Chloe lays a hand over her mouth in an attempt to stifle her amusement. “Carry on.”

Beca shakes her head, apparently having gotten very invested in her knowledge of math despite being self-conscious of it, “Jesus, Chlo. Anyways,” she brings the tip of the marker onto the whiteboard to draw two perpendicular lines, “Here’s the graph—” she draws a rectangle to represent the aforementioned building, along with a dot at the y-intercept, “—and here’s our dude.”

“Ooh, can we write down Marco,” Chloe interrupts, bouncing in her seat and pointing to the blank and boring dot.

Beca gives her a look, before sarcastically heeding her request. Five letters were squished against the side of the y-axis with an adorable arrow, “There. Happy?”

Chloe blows her a kiss, “Very.”

Beca sighs, dramatically, before continuing on, “So as I was saying, there’s Marco, and his ball is—” she scribbles down a number next to the side, “Thrown from this height, and we need to figure out—” she dashes a parabolic line towards the situational ground, “Where this —” she makes another dot, labelling it “splat”—much to Chloe’s delight— on the x-axis, “Is.”

Chloe nods vigorously, chin in her hands as she shifts closer to the edge of the bed, her butt just barely situated on the mattress now as she leans closer for a better look, “Yeah, totes.”

Beca doesn’t seem to notice her new proximity, on a roll now that she has gotten started, “And they have given you the formula so now, considering the fact that gravity is a thing and negative distances are not—” she copies down the formula and writes down what the variables represent for her right under, “You just have to plug all this shit in to get the answer.”

“Ohh,” Chloe says, getting it, but it falls on deaf ears as Beca seems to automatically plug in the figures for her, crossing out variables and scribbling down altercations as she goes along, and Chloe’s jaw drops, as seconds later, she has come to a conclusion.

Beca scribbles down “20 feet” and circles it victoriously, a small but satisfactory “Aha” escaping her lips as she holds the whiteboard up to the light. “There, I got it.”

A sudden wave of heat pools low in her belly, and Chloe gasps as she tries to make sense of the unexpected spike of arousal at the sight of the wide and unrestrained and confident grin painting across Beca’s lips, at the sight of the happiness and satisfaction sparkling within stormy blues, and at the sight of the pink and musically talented tongue clenched between Beca’s teeth, as if used as an anchor to her excitement of getting another math problem right.

Holy heck, Beca Mitchell is hot when she does math.

Chloe must have made a distracting sound, because Beca suddenly jolts, as if just then realizing that she is not alone, pink flushing into her cheeks as she lowers the whiteboard, her uncontainable grin fading into a sheepish smile, and she meekly hands the answer over.

“Sorry,” she says, fidgeting uncomfortably in her chair, eyes downcast to her feet as she watches them scuffle nervously against the floor, “I just got so excited. I don’t know what came over me, Chlo, I—” she visibly swallows, “I hadn’t meant to just finish your problem for you.”

Screw it. It doesn’t freaking matter that Beca is not her girlfriend.

Chloe pushes the whiteboard aside and grasps the arms of Beca’s chair, yanking it and the person in it towards her waiting mouth, and she kisses her best friend/secret crush/obsession/favorite person/love of her life/mathematical genius square on the lips with as much fervor—if not more—as the moment previous in which she had desired to dole out when Beca had inadvertently complimented her as an amazing and capable and kind individual in and of itself, and she groans, her feet spreading to accommodate the chair between her legs and her brain kicking into overdrive to accommodate the gasp fluttering into her mouth.

Beca freezes, her eyes still presumably wide open as Chloe nips against her lips, and Chloe is just about to pull away and chart the situation up to another uncontrollable heat of the moment when she feels the small brunette reciprocate, arms wrapping around her neck and lips pressing closer, and Chloe slides her hands down from the arms of the chair to tuck between the cushion of the seat and Beca’s thighs, lifting her up and into the air before prompting dumping her in her lap, and she giggles as Beca huffs at the ease of which she has completed the action.

“Show off,” Beca grumbles, her minty breath a mournful absence as she pulls her mouth away to kiss the angle of Chloe’s jaw, “This is exactly what I had meant.”

Chloe tilts her head to allow Beca more access, “Coming from the person who had just figured out the answer to my mathematical problem in just a number of seconds, I think you are being irrational, Beca.”

Beca laughs, her nose nuzzling into the side of her neck affectionately at the pun, and Chloe’s heart pounds, her fingers immediately going to scramble her papers off the bed and her body further onto it. “That literally calculates up to zero creativity, Chlo.”

“Whatever,” she says, adjusting herself amongst the blue sheets and rectangular pillows, “I’m not a mathematical nerd, unlike someone I know.”

“Mm,” Beca reconnects their lips, her fingers playing the ends of Chloe’s hair, “Speaking of, are we gonna finish your homework?”

“Later,” Chloe tugs at their clothes, her tongue darting out to trace the seam of Beca’s wide and unrestrained smile, “We can do it later. Right now I just want my hot and secretive mathematical genius to talk numbers to me.”

---

I rushed through this in the span of four hours (not nearly long enough for me to make grammatical and detailing errors) so I hope you all enjoyed it despite my laziness :P

Also, if you’re the anon who gave me this prompt, I hope I did you justice, and that I hope you liked it despite any intentions that you had initially had at the suggestion of this prompt (I know I did, but oh well, what’s done is done, and I’m honestly just happy that I am finished lol).

Let me know what you all think! :))

[imaginesmai]

Peter Parker - I’ll find my way to you(1)

Did I watch Far From Home and decided to write about it instead of doing responsable things? Of course. This will be a little different to what you’re used to do, becuase I’ll follow the movie and dialogues mostly, only that reader is the romantic interest instead of MJ. Hope you enjoy it, I’m really excited for this series!

If Tumblr fucks this fic up and doesn’t show the tags I’m suing them

Plot: Peter Parker couldn’t be more excited for the trip. It wasn’t only the best vacation he could dream of - I mean, Europe? Cool - but they also gave him the chance to spend more time with you, his new found crush that makes him stutter and blush. He should have known that something would get in the way.

-

Spider Man far from home featuring Peter Parker as a clueless, cute baby and reader, who is Bucky Barnes’ daughter and as badass as her father.

Warnings: far from home spoilers - but come on, you’ve seen it.

“I have a plan”

Peter all but fell on the chair, dropping his bag on the ground and making a few classmates look his way. He had just ran through the hallways, nearly colliding with a few people in his way. But if he wanted to talk to Ned before the class started, and the rest of the students came in, he had to be quick. Flash was talking about how the teacher had to grab some books from the library before starting the lesson, and he had took his chance; because lately, finding Ned alone was something weird.

Said boy looked at his friend with raised eyebrows, and put his notebook away. He had been making a list about the best ways to impress an European girl, something he didn’t want to forget. Ned was determinated to meet some pretty girl and impress them with his American accent; Peter had a hard time believing that, but he didn’t dare to break his hopes.

Before talking, he made sure there was no one around who could listen to their conversation.

“Okay, first. I’m gonna sit next to Y/N on the flight” Peter rushed his words out, and Ned hummed. “Second, I’m gonna buy a duple headphone adapter and watch movies with her, the whole time”

“Right” Ned nodded, his eyebrows furrowing as Peter kept talking.

“Three, when we go to Venice – Venice is super famous for making stuff out of glass, right?”

“True”

“So I’m gonna buy her a bright read star necklace, cause her favourite colour is red” Peter shrugged, moving his hands around. “And because of, well”

“It reminds her of her father, a worldwide recognised assassin but also the man who lives five blocks away from your apartment” Ned completed. “Didn’t he drive you to the last decathlon competition?”

“Yeah, her father” Peter nodded, not even blinking at Ned’s words. “Four. When we get to Paris, I’m gonna get her to the top of the Eiffel tower, give her the necklace, and then five, I’m gonna tell her how I feel. And then six hopefully she tells me… she feels the same way”

“Oh, don’t forget step seven” Ned crossed his arms in front of his chest, and Peter missed the sarcastic remark as he reached again for his notebook, where he had written down all the steps. “Don’t do any of that”

Brown, tired eyes met Ned, and the boy felt bad for about a second. It was obvious that Peter had been having a hard time in the last months; Tony’s death, the feeling of being on borrowed time because of the ‘blip’, and the pressure of being Spiderman in a world who needed superheroes more than ever. He could count with the fingers of one hand how many hours of good sleep he had gotten that week, and they were on Wednesday. Besides, he was also stressing with the stupid plan with the steps, and the final trip to Europe.

May had had the idea of writing down the steps. He had come to her – after Ned proved to be useless for it and Happy refused to talk about girls – when he had realized he had feelings for someone. Not just someone, but one of his new friends who shared with him more than just a friendship. Y/N Barnes, friend and work-colleague, talking about avengers. And of course, crush.

“Why” he sighed, not even asking. He thought of himself as a balloon that had just been poked with a sharp needle, and was slowly deflating.

“Because we’re gonna be bachelors in Europe, Peter!” Ned said, his voice too similar to a whine.

“Ned…”

“Look, I may not know much, but I do know this” he nodded at his friend to make sure he was still listening. “Europeans love Americans”

“Really?” Peter tilted his head and raised his eyebrows, knowing that probably Europeans didn’t really care about them. If he was European, he would sure not give a damn about America.

“And more than half of them are women!”

“Okay, sure. But… I really like Y/N” he gave him a tight smile. “She’s awesome. She’s super funny in a kind of a dark way. And sometimes I catch her looking at me and I feel like I’m – She’s coming – don’t say anything!”

Ned looked to his right, and indeed, another person walked in class. Betty waved from the door at you and you gave her a small smile, still not used to her and having so many teenage attention to yourself. Still, you made an effort and contributed to some of her conversations, although most of them were monologues. Again, that feeling that Ned had had about being wrong just moments ago came back when you looked at them and lighted up at the sight of Peter.

Not a lot of people noticed, but you were nothing like your father. The stereotype of a bad mean soldier died when someone talked with you for a few minutes. You were shy, liked puppies and colour pink, and even if your jokes sometimes crossed the line of personal baggage and were a little too dark, you were funny.

You clutched the big sketchbook to your chest and skipped towards your friends. Peter kicked Ned softly under the desk to avoid him saying anything about the plan, and Ned just chuckled awkwardly.

“Hi” you smiled at them, dimples on your cheeks that made Peter mess with the pen on the desk. “Excited about the trip?

“Hey. Uh, yeah” Peter tried not to make it too obvious that he was staring at you, so he looked at Ned. “We’re just – talking about the trip”

“Yeah, and Peter’s plan”

“You have a plan?” you raised your eyebrows, and Peter felt himself stopping breathing for a moment.

“I-I don’t… I d-don’t have plan”

“He’s just gonna collect tiny spoons while we’re traveling through all the countries”

The wink that he sent his friend wasn’t at all discreet, because to do so Ned moved all his face along with his left eye. Peter didn’t feel any better with the answer, if anything it made him feel a small pressure on his chest. He turned the pen around his fingers as he looked at you again, who thankfully, looked unsuspicious. In times like that he was grateful that you still hadn’t caught everything about the sarcasm and indirect intentions.

But even you, who spent more than half of your life locked in a cell and used as leverage for the winter soldier, knew that it was something weird to do. So you hummed and made a small grimace.

“Like a – like a grandmother?”

“I’m not collecting tiny spoons” he scoffed, pointing with the pen at Ned. “He’s collecting tiny spoons”

“Oh. Okay. Well… that was… a real rollercoaster”

Peter’s eyes drifted to your wrist as you moved your hands around, and his previous mood fell like a ton of bricks. He knew he should be thankful that you were allowed to come with them to Europe, since your father wasn’t welcomed in at least half of the countries. Thick, black bracelets fell on your wrist, a huge contrast to your delicate skin. They had a small red light that was always on, unless you broke one of the rules Thaddeus Ross had set.

He had been there when the secretary forbid you to leave the country, using words as ‘freak’ and ‘danger’. Between your father, Sam and a little bit of help of Pepper Potts, he had agreed as long as you carried the bracelets. Peter himself had threatened to go and talk to him too, rambling and speeding across the walls and ceilings as he traumatised May. But then, you had asked him to stay put, and he could never say no to you.

Peter bit his lip and tried to hide his discomfort at seeing your wrists. You had to endure enough from the rest of the classmates, and he would hate himself if you dropped that smile.

“By the way, my dad gave me some stuff for you” you changed the topic, digging into your backpack for something. A metal, clanking noise came from inside. “Told me you should have it since I’m not even allowed to cut an apple if I want to stay out of jail. In case something happen”

“What – don’t!”

Peter jumped out of his seat and pushed your hand back into the bag, careful of the sharp edges. He was too busy pushing the knives back into the bag to notice how your hands touched for more than one second, or to admire how your cheeks turned pink and you eyes went wide. You were so close that he could smell your vanilla scent, and you could see the wrinkles of his sweater’s neck.

The whole class seemed to disappear around as he finally noticed what he had done. Peter was always careful of not being too close to you, in case you could get overwhelmed – like in your first day of highschool – or feel uncomfortable. His own cheeks went red, and the tips of his ears started to burn. He pulled his hand out of your bag so quick that he got a scratch on his palm; not that he cared, as he jumped back to his seat and almost fell out of the chair.

“Did you bring knives to class?” Ned squealed out. A girl nearby had noticed, but she chose to turn away.

“Well, not knives” you tried to explain. “They are like – uh – daggers? Throwing daggers. Dad got them from internet, and some of them have dents so that when you stab someone –“

“Okay, class! I’m here!” the teacher cut your conversation, and a flow of students filled the class.

You quickly ran to your place at the back, besides another boy your age, and Peter tried to follow you as you moved. He could have sworn that you smiled when you passed his side, but he wanted it so bad to be true that he could have imagined it. Most of the times he thought you were looking at him in class, and when he looked at you, there was nothing to see. Sure, you liked to sit beside him at lunch time, and never turned down an awkward proposal for a “date” with Peter, although he was the only one calling them that, as nothing ever happened.

Still, he allowed himself a sweet second of happiness as he watched you greet your classmate and pull down your sketchbook.

“Dude” Ned chuckled behind him, and Peter stared with amused eyes. “I think that went really great”

-

“Yo, Parker”

Peter turned around and saw Flash calling him from the other side of the plane. He was sitting on the closest side of the window, but even from there he could see the boy’s smug smirk. So far, the whole ‘getting into the plane and not having any problem’ was going good. He had his headphone adapter on his right hand, and was preparing himself to tell Ned to change places with MJ and let him sit with you. The rest of the class seemed fine too, and he was enjoying the trip so far.

But of course not a lot of things in his life went right, and he felt his mood lower down a bit when Flash called him. He fidgeted with the adapter on his hands and nodded at him.

“This is called an airplane” Flash said, and to Peter utter mortification, you stopped right beside his seat to look at Flash. “It’s like the busses you’re used to, except they fly over the poor neighbours instead of driving through them”

“Madam?” a kind looking woman appeared beside Flash and looked at you, smiling. “He blipped, so technically he’s sixteen, not twenty one”

“I’ll take that”

“No – no she’s – s-she’s lying! I don’t even –“

Flash trailed behind the woman as he tried to take back the drink, giving you the nastiest look he could manage. Which wasn’t too big, as he was mostly embarrassed.

When you had first arrived to Midtown, two years ago after you father went to Wakanda and Tony – as a favour to Steve, who was like you uncle – let you stay with him and attend highschool, Flash thought you were pretty. He followed you everywhere you went, tried to win you over with the stupidest and most expensive details about his life and invited you to every party. Then, he noticed that you ignored him in favour of staying with Peter, who you had met in that airport fight. And from that moment, he liked to pretend he hadn’t liked you at all.

Once he was gone, you looked at Peter and gave him a small, shy smile. He smiled back, his face melting at the sight of you. He almost dropped the headphone adapter as he watched past by, if it wasn’t for Ned catching it in the last second.

“Classic of Y/N, right?” Brad Davis appeared out of thin air, following you into the airplane and making Peter drop his smile.

“Did you know Brad was coming?” he asked Ned once the boy was out; although he didn’t stop looking at him.

“It’s… so weird” Ned chuckled, looking at Brad too. “Like, one day he’s a little kid that cried and got nosebleeds all the time, and suddenly we blip back and he’s totally ripped and super nice. And all this girls are after him”

“Not all the girls are after him”

“No man, they’re all after him”

Peter felt a sudden weight on his chest that he couldn’t describe. Brad was helping you to put your handbag on the top part of the plane, apparently saying something funny; really funny, because you weren’t using that fake smile you put when you didn’t get what was funny or what people were talking about. The sound of your laugh usually made his stomach flutter, but that time it made him feel sick. He knew he was selfish for thinking that way – you were allowed to have friends, to be interested in someone, and to like Brad.

But he didn’t know all of that, it was just you laughing with Brad. He was so busy drowning in his own feelings that he missed how you looked at him once more before sitting beside MJ.

“Anyway” Ned went back to his bag, taking out his computer. “Onto more important things, it’s an nine hour flight. We play beast slayers the whole time”

“I need your help sitting next to Y/N” Peter blurted out, finally tearing his eyes away from Brad.

“Seriously?” Ned sighed. He left his computer on the desk and tried to look miserable to Peter, who was too busy already tearing his seatbelt away.

“Yes, seriously”

“What about our plan? American bachelors in Europe?”

“That’s your plan. That’s a solo plan. Come on, this is my plan” Peter tried to remember how May told him that he could get almost anything with those puppy eyes, so he put them on for Ned; who couldn’t be more unbothered by them. But Peter really, really wanted to sit with you. “Please”

Ned threw his head back and scoffed, leaving the computer back on the bag and tugging at his own seatbelt. Maybe the puppy eyes didn’t work with him, but Peter was glad to have such a good friend.

Want to read more? Check out my side blog @imaginesmaimasterlists​, where I keep all the masterlists! Feedback is always appreciated

Tom Holland and Peter Parker Taglist

@delicately-important-trash​​

@lexxxistrips​​​​

@lexxxistrips​

@aikaterrina​​​​​​

@zalladane​​​​​

@gypsystuf​​​​​​ (since you didn’t answer me, I just put you on the general taglist. Let me know if you want to change!)

@nikkixostan​​​​​

@galaxystern08​​​

@justifymyfeelings​​​

@dummiesshort​

@marvelhoesworld​

@wild-rose-35​

[foreverfangirlalways]

Who Does Virgil Really Like?

Based off this post by  @more-incorect-quotes and this comic by @illogicallyinclined

(Also, a huge thank you to @thefingergunsgirl for some of the plot points!!!)

Summery: After a 20 question game gone wrong, will Virgil be able to tell Logan who his crush really is?

Ships: Analogical, hinted at Dukexiety, hinted at Prinxiety, Moceit

Warning: Misunderstandings, weird flirting, lowkey stalking

-let me know if I need to add more warnings-(I hope you like it! )

—-

It was a relatively calm day in the Mind Palace. Patton is eating cookies, Roman and Logan are working on the final draft of a new song, and Virgil, Remus, and Janus are play 20 questions.

“Janus, how would describe your perfect date?” Virgil asked.

“Well, I definitely wouldn’t take my partner dancing after a nice dinner and then talk a stoll before walking them home.”

Everyone stopped what they were doing and stared at Janus. “What? I’m a liar, not classless.” Janus said while winking at Patton.

Patton blush and accidentally crumbled one of his cookies. Remus laughed. “Alright, my turn before Dadceit and Daddy inspire me to make another fic!” Everyone groaned and rolled their eyes, and Janus gave Patton another cookie.

Remus clapped his hands, then eyed Virgil.

“So Tickle-Me-Emo, tell me, what’s your ideal boy?”

‘Shit! What do I say? I have to say the truth, but I don’t want to make it obvious... oh! I know!’ Virgil thought while chewing on his lips, then he hid a secret smile.

“Oh, he’s creative, knows how to handle weapons, and loves nicknaming.” Everyone acted all almost exactly how they did with Janus’s answer, except Patton wasn’t blushing.

“You just described me! Ha!” Remus yelled, looking gleeful. Janus, who knew the lies that Virgil told himself around a certain tie wearing aspect, just smirked and decided to “play along.”

“Or he could be talking about your brother.”

Virgil fought the urge to get up and go slap Deceit’s smug smirk off of his face. At Deceit’s words and Virgil’s glare, Roman made some dramatic princy noises.

Remus just blanched, not believing that HIS emo could have fallen for his dull brother. He looked at Roman’s delighted face and then at Virgil’s glare. “There is no way he likes that! Remus shouted, pointing to Virgil and then gesturing to all of Roman.

Roman then made some offended princy noises. “HOW DARE-!” Patton silenced Roman by throwing a piece of the popcorn that Janus had just summoned for them to share at him. “Now kiddo, you know the rules, no yelling in the famILY room.”

Virgil took a minute to wonder when Janus had gotten up, sat beside Patton, started cuddling Patton, and summoned popcorn, but he was interrupted by the look on Logan’s face.

He looked mildly interested, but Virgil has known him long enough to know that his feelings are hurt. Is it because Janus is not sharing the popcorn with him or...

Virgil had a realization. “Uhh, on an unrelated note, I have to be, not here.” Virgil gave a two finger salute and then sunk down to his room to freak out.

Both Remus and Roman got up at the same time, noticed that the other had gotten up, and then lunged at eachother. “How dare you think Virgil likes you, you’re just a stinky wannabe Mario!” Roman yelled at the same time Remus shrieked, “Virgil is my bloodsucking vampire bat, hands off!”

While they rolled around on the floor, laying claim on Virgil and insulting eachother, Janus kept Patton from interrupting their fight by kissing him on the check and whispering, “Come on darling, just let them work it out themselves.”

Patton was suddenly a speechless, blushing mess who was just mechanical eating popcorn and avoiding Janus’s teasing gaze.

Logan, who everyone had forgotten about, looked forlorn. He liked Virgil, but clearly it is one sided. He always knew that he never had a chance.

Logan just sighed and started to sink down to his own room, not noticing the knowing, glowing heterochromic eyes that were following his movements, and hearing his deceitful thoughts.

-_-_-_-

Over the following week, Roman and Remus have both tried to woo Virgil, oftentimes resulting in them fighting.

Janus has gone through about 15 bowls of popcorn, 11 of which were shared with a blushing Patton.

Logan has been getting more sad every time he notices one of the twins antics, and has gotten to the point where he almost can’t stand to look at them. He realizes that this is illogical, and who Virgil choses to give his affections to is none of his business, but he still gets jealous, despite himself.

And Virgil... well, Virgil is at his wits end. He’s sick of finding dead rats in his toilet and getting random, blood covered knives from Remus. He’s tired of shooing sing birds away and cutting the heads off of the roses that Roman gives him. Virgil HATES roses.

About 8 days after the whole 20 questions incident, Virgil and Logan were sitting on the couch in the famILY room. Virgil was scrolling threw tumblr and Logan was reading about constellations.

After about 20 minutes of silence, Virgil couldn’t take it anymore. He tossed his phone onto the loveseat, and groaned. When Logan question Virgil about what was wrong, Virgil took a daring move, and laid his head on Logan’s lap. Logan turned faintly red, and just stared at Virgil.

“Hey Lo? Can you give me some advice?” Once Logan nodded tensely, Virgil added, “Its relationship advice.”

Logan felt like crying. ‘Of course he needs relationship advice. He obviously likes Roman, and as his friend I am ok with that and will help him.’

Janus, summoned by Logan’s thoughts, was sitting against the wall with Patton on his lap. They were both eating popcorn, having already done this multiple times this week. They could both clearly see the two on the couch, but neither one seemed to notice the couple watching them. Not even when Janus had to muffle Patton’s squeal with his gloved hand upon Patton realizing Logan and Virgil’s position.

“What seems to be the problem?” Logan asked, trying and failing to keep the hurt out of his voice. Lucky for him, Virgil didn’t notice.

“Well, I have a crush on someone an-“ Virgil was cut off when he felt Logan put a comforting hand on his chest. Virgil looked up, and smiled faintly at a faintly smiling Logan.

“I’ve been trying to tell them for the past few months, but they haven’t seemed to notice at all.”

Logan side-eyed Virgil. ‘Is he serious? I think Roman knows, he gave you a bouquet of roses yesterday. Which is a little pointless, given that you hate roses, but... oh.’ Logan thought, coming to the conclusion that Virgil didn’t realize that Roman likes him back. Janus relayed what he was hearing from Logan thoughts to Patton, and they both rolled their eyes at the two oblivious sides.

“Really?” Logan asked, now full on looking at Virgil. “They don’t sound particularly observant.” Janus had to keep Patton from yelling out “he’s not!”

Virgil just smiled, and decided to try something. “See, that’s the thing. They’re actually really smart. Just...” Virgil took a breath and intertwined his fingers with Logan’s, “dense.”

Logan fought all the butterflies that were raging war in his stomach, and decided to record Virgil admitting his feelings, so that he can just send the recording to Roman and cry.

“Perhaps you just need to take the obvious route. You could try saying a simple...” Logan held back a gag and position his phone more directly over Virgil’s face. “I love you.”

Virgil considered. ‘Could it really be that easy?’ “You think that would work?”

Logan nodded, and put on a near perfect mask of nonchalant. “It’s at least worth a try.”

Virgil looked to the away and nodded. “I... guess you’re right.” Virgil took a deep breath and Logan shakily pressed the record button.

“Hey... Logan...” Virgil said, gripping his hand tighter. “I love you.”

Janus and Patton just stared, leaning forward. Logan blushed, and decided to never delete that recording, ever. “Yeah! Use that exact phrase!” Logan said in false cheerfulness.

“HOLY FUCKING SHIT!” Virgil yelled at the same time Janus and Patton facepalmed.

Logan regrettably let go of Virgil’s hand. “And if that doesn’t work, we can always try a different approach.”

“Oh my God.” Virgil said while covering his face with his hands, trying his hardest not to reach up and shake the denseness out of Logan.

Logan, not seeing Roman and Remus walk in the door way and be freezed and silenced by Janus, continued.

“Don’t worry Virgil, I’ll make sure Roman realizes how much you really like him.” Logan says.

Janus looked dumbfounded. ‘How dumb can Logic be?’

Patton looked disappointed and almost started laughing.

Roman looked triumphant and Remus looked pissed.

Virgil, however, just looked done. He quickly sat up, and turned to face Logan. “Wait, you mean to tell me that you think my crush is on ROMAN?!”

Logan gulped. “Umm yes. Was I wrong in that assumption?”

Virgil just started laughing. He laughed until his laughter turned to tears. Logan immediately became alarmed and took Virgil into his arms.

“Shhh, Virgil, sweetheart, I need you to calm down for me.” That just seemed to make Virgil cry harder so Logan grabbed Virgil hands and squeezed them in a 4-7-8 pattern. Virgil, knowing what Logan is doing, starts to follow the pattern. After about 5 minutes Virgil is calmed down.

“Virgil, can you tell me what is bothering you?” Logan asked gently. Virgil just nodded defeatedly. “You.”

Logan froze, not knowing how to respond to that. Virgil continued. “I have liked you for almost 2 years. I have tried to tell you about my crush for months. I admit, I could have been a bit more obvious in my clues to Remus, but I thought for sure you would know who I was talking about. You are creative when you come up with raps, you threw a computer at Thomas and knowledge is a weapon, and you called Roman a ‘Roman Scenturian.‘

Instead you avoided me for days, didn’t believe me when I said I love you, and think I have a crush on Roman? Can you see wh-“

Logan interrupted Virgil’s rant by kissing him. If he was totally honest, he barely heard a word after Virgil said, “I have liked you...”

The couple sprung apart as soon as they heard cheering. They both stared at Patton, who was sitting in Janus’s lap with popcorn all over and around him, and the biggest smile on his face.

Janus was also smiling, and looked over at Remus and Roman, who were looking fondly at both couples. Janus unfroze them.

“So...” Remus starts, “you like Logan, huh?” Everyone laughs. “That’s fine, I’m gonna go see if the Dragonwitch wants to go on a date.” Remus winked then sunk down, headed towards the imagination.

Virgil then looks at Roman. Roman takes a step forward, and Logan tightens his grip on Virgil. Roman just laughs.

“Don’t worry Lo, I was just wanting to give y’all my blessing! Also, do you think that O will want to go on a quest?”

Virgil giggled and nodded. “Yeah, I think ol’ Orange would love to go ‘rob people legally’ as he put it, with you.” Roman waved and then headed to find O.

The couple on the couch then turned to look at the couple by the wall. Patton looked ecstatic while Janus looked amused. “Well, that certainly didn’t take forever.” Janus said, breaking the silence.

They all just shook their heads, and Patton dragged Janus to the kitchen to start on dinner (and totally not eavesdrop).

Virgil looked at Logan. “So, if I say something do you promise to not be stupid this time?” Virgil asked teasingly. Logan smiled and nodded.

“Logan, I love you.” Logan kissed Virgil and smiled. “Virgil, I would love for you to be my boyfriend.” “I would love that too!” Virgil said before kissing Logan again.

-----

Note: Incase you are wondering, Roman and Remus were just really trying to make Virgil like one of them more than the other, and were actually surprised when Virgil described them and not Logan during the game. They did not just immediately move on after seeing there was not shot. They were coming to tell Virgil that they actually like other ‘people’ but kind of got stopped 😅

Taglist- (I went ahead and did my Analogical Taglist 😅)

@five-falseh00ds-ph0nated

@illogicallyinclined

@more-incorect-quotes

@thefingergunsgirl

@kawaiikat54

@yikesdodson

@sanders-sides-with-quinn

@aleiimm

@peachy-pidge

@nerdycupcake559

@softestvirgil

@dragonwithproblems

@teacupfulofstarshine

@lynxsans

@rainbowemonightmare

@impatentpending

@star-crossed-shipper

@falsehoodx

@007ardra

[reinhartroleplays]

I’ll preface this by saying - I’m aware it’s just a television show.

It’s not curing cancer. It’s not stopping the patriarchy. It’s not ending world hunger. It’s forty five minutes worth of very campy entertainment and most of the time, it doesn’t make sense. At the end of the day, the world will go on even if Riverdale doesn’t air another episode or if they put out something I feel goes completely against what I signed up for in this show.

But let me tell you a little something about my experience with Riverdale.

I originally heard about it through Tumblr and various commercials on The CW. I’m not very into current television shows. I seem to choose one TV show, follow it religiously, and then spend the rest of my days re-watching old shows from the 90′s or early 00′s because I enjoy not having to wait for new episodes and the comfortable predictability of knowing what happens to them. I don’t even remember watching the first episode of Riverdale, I just know I was intrigued by the whole ‘mystery’ aspect of it because damn, I love a good mystery.

..Hence why I followed Pretty Little Liars for seven goddamn years.

Betty Cooper was the first character I fell in love with. Betty - it was helped by Lili being so friggin’ cute and expressive and the minute I saw her tearfully asking Archie if he loved her, I was hooked. Betty. Betty, Betty..Betty. I have been you. I have been the perfect daughter - the perfect friend - never asking anything, always dutifully doing what was asked, and then being crushed when you realized just because you never wanted to break anyones heart didn’t mean they wouldn’t break yours. I felt a connection with Betty because she was the (much) prettier, but just as painfully earnest version of me in high school. I admittedly wanted Barchie from the pilot because I’m a sucker for a best friends to lovers trope. I thought KJ and Lili had sweet chemistry and I was ready to fall in love with their love story.

And then Archie uttered, “You’re so perfect.” and just like Betty, the trumpet noises deflated into sad whimpers. He put her on a pedestal, he made her up to be this being who couldn’t do wrong and who wasn’t really human but rather, something that he didn’t want to get to know the ins and outs of and rather keep her there for safe-keeping. I have known these people. There’s nothing evil or malicious about them but rather, they just don’t want to get to know all the colors of you and learn to love them still even when you’ve accepted them for who they are, good and bad. They don’t want to put effort into you.

I don’t think I even shipped Betty and Jughead until the infamous episode where he goes with Betty to see Polly. It was that moment of, “Also-” (gulp, biiiig exhale after kissing her) that I fell. Because..here’s Jughead. Here’s Jughead who probably has always loved Betty and yet, has never told her because one, he respected her obvious feelings for his best friend and didn’t want to make her feel obligated to like him because honestly, that’s the kind of person Betty started out as, and two, he just wasn’t that guy to put his heart on the line when it’s been crushed so many times before. Here is a male character who doesn’t expect anything in return for being a decent human being and is so endearingly amazed that Betty in return could fall for him just because he’s a good guy.

That’s. My. Ship.

It became clear as to why Betty would fall for him. He’s loyal. He’s considerate. He’s thoughtful. And he’s with his own flaws and he understands that Betty has her own. Apart from the “you’re the perfect girl next door” moment, he loves that Betty has her flaws and even physically kisses them.

Let’s be real and admit that if Archie saw those scars on her hands, there’s a 99 percent chance he would’ve been freaked out and ran away or immediately dove into protector!mode and tried to fix Betty when all we want is somebody who accepts the flawed parts of us.

Even when Archie started to show interest in Betty, she just...didn’t seem interested. I don’t know if that was an acting choice on Lili’s part but 9/10, it was more interest on Archie’s end than Betty’s. I can’t speak for everyone but I know I personally would’ve understood a Season 1 or even early Season 2 plot of Betty being curious about her potential with Archie. He’s an old crush. He’s a what-if. I still have fantasies sometimes about seeing my old high school fling and wondering what could transpire. Granted, I’m not in a committed, loving relationship, but I can understand the wistfulness that could transpire. But the writers passed it over, continously, just building Betty and Jughead’s relationship to the point where you just went, “Wow. They really love each other. It’s a deeply unrealistic depiction of high school romance, but wow. The chemistry is there and you can believe it.” Four seasons of this character and ship development.

And suddenly it’s..inevitable that Betty still has feelings for Archie and wants to explore them..?

Are we watching the same show? Did I miss something? You’re telling me, you’re with your best friend and he’s proven time and time again how much he loves you and you’ve literally been through life and death together but..you want to see if your childhood crush would be a good fit?

It’s just..insulting and crushing to me, a fan who sees myself in Betty and has hope that someday, someone will respect and love and treasure me the way Jughead is written for Betty, and who has invested time and money in this fandom. We’ve all supported the show in one way or another, whether that be our views to help keep their ratings high or actual money into merchandise, cons, experiences. The crew and cast does the heavy lifting but fans play a huge part in this show.

I do not believe in fan service because at the end of the day, it should be up to the writers to tell the story they want to tell, but I do believe in treating the fans who have supported you since humble beginnings well. I don’t believe in shock value just to get ratings to spike even higher. (You don’t need an out of character kiss for ratings. Invest in well thought out storylines.) 

At the end of the day, you’re going to ship who you want to ship. Who knows, maybe a Barchie shipper can write a post rivaling this explaining exactly why the ship is a perfect fit. To me, I don’t see it because it’s not mirroring the show I’ve spent four years watching and supporting. It’s not “inevitable”, it’s a marketing ploy to shock viewers and make them watch like it’s some sort of train wreck. So bad but..damn, you want to see where it ends up.

Except me. I don’t want to see because I’ve seen that ship played out dozens of times and I’m over it and I wanted to see a healthy relationship with characters I both enjoy and feel amazing chemistry off of.

So it’s not the end of the world to get Barchie, but damn it is a waste of four fuckin’ years and in 2020, that sort of feels like the end, doesn’t it?

[burberryharold]

Alone Together

Part One 

Hello, guys! I’ve finally come around to writing my first fanfic on Tumblr and to say that I’m excited would be an understatement. I’ve had this idea for a while now and I’m hoping you guys like it; Alone Together follows the journey of Ellie and Harry through this rough period of quarantine. It’s just a little something I thought of and decided to have fun with it and make the best out of the current situation, so I hope you enjoy it and let me know what you think! This is gonna be a series but I haven’t settled on how long it’s gonna be yet, but for now here’s Part One of Alone Together.

February 25th, Tuesday

Ellie huffed and wiped her forehead, taking notice of the dark strands of hair clinging onto her face from the sweat. She deeply regretted sending off the moving people, insisting that she can handle the rest of the boxes herself. Big mistake. She was by no means weak or incapable of lifting heavy items, but after a long day of moving back and forth from her old flat to her new one, Ellie was absolutely exhausted. In retrospect, she realised that she should not have moved all of her things in one day, but it’s too late, she has to face the consequences of her decision. Damn me for thinking that this was a good idea, Ellie thought to herself.

Staring at the boxes in the hallway in hopes that they would magically move themselves, Ellie failed to notice that someone walked out of the elevator and was heading in her direction.

“Ellie? Ellie Heart? Is that you?” a deep yet familiar voice pulled her out of her thoughts.

Ellie’s hand flew to her chest as she gasped at the sudden voice, “Bloody hell, you scared the shit out of me!”

She finally opened her eyes to look at the person as he chuckled; her jaw dropped at the familiar sights of chocolate curls and green eyes. “Harry? What? What are you doing here?” she questioned with wide eyes. 

Her heart fluttered at the sight of him; she had not seen Harry in quite a while and was shocked to see him standing outside of her new flat. “Are you stalking me, Styles? Is that what this is?” she jokingly narrowed her eyes at him, resting her hands on her hips.

Harry ‘s bright eyes twinkled in amusement.

“Oh yes, Heart, that’s exactly what I’m doing, you caught me.” He raised his hands in surrender.

Ellie's smile widened at his words and she started taking in his attire. He was sporting a pair of grey sweatpants and a black hoodie with “Treat People With Kindness” printed on it, despite it being an abnormally warm afternoon. She smiled at his choice of outfit and decided to tease him for it, “Nice hoodie you got there, Harry, I see you’re still your usual narcissistic self.”

Harry threw his head back in laughter at her words, “Good to see that you’re still as funny as I remember you, Ellie, it’s been a while.” He flashed her another bright smile and gestured to the boxed discarded along the hallway, “I take it that you’re just moving in?”

Ellie nodded, suddenly remembering that she’s standing in front of him drenched in sweat and looking disheveled, while he managed to look like he just stepped out of a runway, despite his casual outfit. “Just moved literally all of my things here today, which was a huge mistake if I’m being honest, but yeah.” She paused after taking notice of the grocery bags resting beside his feet, “Wait, do you live here as well?”

There were only three flats on this floor, hers, the one right across from her, and another just at the end of the hallway. “This is me, just moved in here recently actually,” Harry pointed at the door beside him, “My house is being fumigated because of bloody termites and I’ve been meaning to do some renovations, so this seemed like an appropriate time. Can’t go back home for a few weeks so.”

A shy smile made its way onto Ellie’s lips, “Guess we’ll be neighbours for the meantime then, huh?”

She marveled at the sight of his dimples, “I’m looking forward to it.”

Ellie tried to ignore the way her heart started pounding faster at the prospect of having Harry so close to her for a few weeks. It’s just a little crush, El, let it go.

Ellie being a huge fan of Harry is no secret to anyone that knows her, not even to Harry himself she fears. Even as a One Direction-obsessed teenager, she’s always paid Harry a little extra attention. When his debut album came out, Ellie was beyond ecstatic. She had known that Harry was a fan of artists like the Rolling Stones and Fleetwood Mac, and she definitely felt their influences on him in music, both in his solo career and in One Direction. So, despite being absolutely devastated that the band is on a hiatus, Ellie can’t deny that she is enjoying their solo careers.

They had originally met back in 2014 when Julian Bunnetta first introduced them to each other. She’d known Julian for about a year, having worked on a number of songs with him. She was no stranger to his close relationship to the band, but she had never expected to ever meet any of the members. Needless to say, Ellie was floored when she saw Julian approaching her, at the party he dragged her to, with the tall, handsome boy beside him.

Julian smirked at her wide eyes, “El, this is Harry, but you already knew that,” he sent her a wink. “H, this is Ellie, the songwriter I’ve been telling you about.”

Had she heard him correctly? Did he just say that he has talked about her to Harry Styles?

Ellie had to pull herself together as the boy smiled in recognition, “Hello, Ellie, it’s good to finally meet you! Been hearing a lot of things about you, this guy won’t stop talking about how insanely talented you are.”

Ellie thinks she’s about to faint.

She’s met a couple of celebrities from working alongside Julian, but she has never been this starstruck before. And the fact that Julian has been praising her songwriting talent in front of Harry does not help ease her erratic heartbeat.

“I- uh- thanks?” She wanted to facepalm. “You too- I mean, um, thank you, I’m such a huge fan of you guys.”

Harry chuckled at her response, “Thank you, Julian may or may not have mentioned that before.”

She narrowed her eyes at Julian, who had an amused expression on his face. “Oh yeah, told him all about your crazy obsession with him.”

“Julian!” Ellie groaned and covered her face with her hands, feeling the warmth rushing to her cheeks, “You bloody knobhead, I hate you.”

“Don’t worry, love” Harry laughed, “he only had good things to say about you, and if anything, I’m flattered.”

Ever since that night, they’ve only ran into each other two other times, which Ellie was disappointed about. Once when she had worked with the band on What A Feeling, and another back in January 2019. Ellie was surprised when her friend Tom Hull called her one night and invited her to the studio, saying that he and a friend of his were struggling with a song and he wanted her help. She hadn’t hesitated and went to meet him the following day at a studio in Malibu. What Tom had failed to mention was that his friend was Harry Styles, who was working on his second album.

Her eyes had noticeably widened when they fell upon the tall figure standing in the corner, talking to someone on the phone. She immediately darted towards her friend and pinched his arm, “You didn’t think to tell me that Harry was here?” she whispered-exclaimed. A wide grin painted Tom’s lips, “Thought I’d surprise you.”

Since then, after spending a whole day helping them with the verse and the bridge on a song called Canyon Moon, Ellie hasn’t seen the rockstar. Until now.

She didn’t even think it was possible for him to look any more beautiful than he already is, but he’s managed to prove her wrong. The light stubble and mustache that graced his face made him look more mature; she remembered how he had once complained about not being able to grow any facial hair, but it seems like that has changed.

Looking that good should be a crime, she thought to herself.

Harry cleared his throat, pulling her out of her thoughts yet again, “D’you need any help with that?”

Ellie was about to shake her head and refuse, but then she bit her lip and paused. She doesn’t know if it’s because she’s exhausted, or if she just misses his presence and wants him around her for a little bit longer. She figured it was a combination of both, and that’s why she found herself saying “Actually, yeah, I’d really appreciate that.”

“Hold on a minute,” he pointed to the bags in his hands and gestured to his flat, “gotta put those inside first.”

Ellie was busy hauling a box that held her cutlery and plates into her kitchen when she heard Harry calling out for her. “Love? Where do you want me to put this?”

She tried not to think of the pet name, assuring herself that that’s just who Harry is; he’s always friendly and charming, calling people around him “love” or “sweetheart”, but it makes her heart skip a beat nevertheless.

The box had “Bedroom” messily written on it and so she pointed towards the hallway on her left, “Just down the hallway, first room on the right, please.”

His short curls bounced as he nodded his head and carried the box to her room with ease. She couldn’t help but stare at the way his arms flexed holding the box; he’d changed from his sweatshirt into a fitted black t-shirt, emphasising his muscles.

Ellie silently scolded herself for staring and went back out to the hallway, carrying yet another box. This one, however, was much heavier than the rest. She had packed all of her vases together and now sees how it was a bad idea. God, Ellie, you’re just making dumb decisions left and right, she thought silently.

She groaned as the box weighed her down and struggled to not drop it. “Hey, hey, let me.”

Harry suddenly appeared in front of her, reaching his hands out to take the box. In the process, his hands brushed hers and it took everything in Ellie to not drop the box. She felt like a silly kid, freaking out over touching a boy’s hand, but this was Harry. The same Harry who she admired and has had a crush on for as long as she can remember; she can’t just ignore the feeling of his soft hands against hers.

Get it together, Ellie.

“Thank you,” she flashed him a guilty smile, “careful, that one’s heavy.”

“Don’t worry, it’s nothing,” Harry smirked and held the box as if it was as light as a feather, flexing his arms in the process, “see these guns over here? They can handle anything.”

She stopped herself from staring at his arms yet again and instead rolled her eyes, “Okay then, Superman, go put that in the living room, please.”

Harry let out a laugh and made his way towards her living room, making a show of flexing his arms and looking at her over his shoulders.

Ellie really missed him.

Once Harry and Ellie had finished moving everything into her flat, she invited him to have a drink and a little chat, to which he delightfully agreed.

After settling comfortably into the couch, with a bottle of beer in his hand, Harry turned his body towards Ellie’s and smiled, “How have you been then? Haven’t seen each other in a long time now, haven’t we?”

Ellie relaxed into her couch and nodded, “Yeah, a little over a year since I last saw you and Tommy at the studio.”

“I’ve worked on a few projects since then,” she took a sip of her drink then shook her head, “no, actually, I have worked on a lot of projects and I’ve decided to just take a break from it all.”

“A break? How come?” Harry’s eyebrows furrowed, “I remember you saying you loved writing all the time, in fact, think you said that you couldn’t go on a day without writing at least a few lines.”

Ellie’s insides almost melted at his soft, slow voice; she’s always loved the way Harry spoke. 

“I did yeah, but everyone needs a little break sometimes,” the corners of her lips turned a little upwards, surprised that he remembered. “I didn’t feel as inspired as I used to be, felt like I was just a machine producing lyrics, so I figured now is a good time to take a break and be free of any pressures.”

Harry held her gaze for a second before nodding his head. “Yeah, I get that,” he said with a soft tone, “sometimes even the thing you love doing the most can get exhausting.”

Ellie breathed out a soft sigh, knowing the meaning behind his words.

“Well, look at you now, you’re the one in complete control, aren’t ya?” she nudged his thigh with her foot that was resting on the couch. He smiled at her words.

“Loved the new album, by the way,” she sat upright, as if she suddenly remembered that he released his second album not too long ago. “Never got to congratulate you on that.”

A bright smile graced Harry’s face. “Really? You did?”

She hummed in affirmation, “How could I not? It’s so fucking good. The lyrics, the melodies, everything. You were amazing, H.”

Ellie didn’t realise what she called him until the words were out of her mouth, but Harry didn’t seem to mind. She was well aware that they were not exactly friends, having met only a few times, and she didn’t want to make him uncomfortable.

Harry avoided her gaze and bashfully stared at his lap, “Thank you, means a lot coming from you.”

A blush burned its way to Ellie’s cheeks, wondering what he meant exactly by that, but she didn’t question it.

“Uh,” Harry cleared his throat before continuing, “what’s your favourite song then?” He asked, looking up at her through his dark lashes.

“Oh that is a tough question,” Ellie set her drink down on the coffee table and turned to him, a serious expression etched on her face. “This is gonna take a while.”

After an intense and thorough explanation of why she can’t simply choose one favourite song off of Fine Line— because, Harry, I love every song too fucking much— Ellie noticed that she’s kept Harry busy for the last two hours.

Ellie started panicking. I wasted so much of his time! What if he didn’t even want to hang out with me?

“Oh God, Harry, I’m so sorry,” she started apologising, feeling her hands getting clammy, “I’ve wasted two hours of your time and you probably had things to do-”

Frowning at her words, Harry abruptly sat up from his previous laid back position on the couch. “’course you didn’t waste my time, love, don’t say that,”

“I didn’t have anything else to do today. Went out to do a shop and I planned to stay in and watch movies, so I’m glad I ran into you.”

Ellie’s shoulders visibly relaxed and a smile made its way onto her lips, “I’m glad I ran into you too, it was nice catching up.”

She had definitely missed the curly-haired boy; she was still having a hard time wrapping her head around the fact that he’s sitting right here on her couch, but she knew he had to go soon.

“It was, and I really hope we don’t spend another year without seeing each other again.”

Warmth coursed through her body. Me too.

Harry‘s mouth opened and closed, seeming as if he had something to say then decided against it. She noticed he was playing around with the rings on his fingers, twisting them around.

“Tell you what,” Harry started, turning his focus towards her again, “how about I give you my number? You know, in case of emergency or anything since we’re neighbours now.”

Ellie mentally cursed her genes as she could feel herself blushing again, for absolutely no reason. She’s always been the type of person to get flustered and blush at everything, just like her father. Be cool, Ellie, or he’s gonna think you’re weird.

She merely nodded her head in response and mechanically handed him her phone. Harry chuckled at her and grabbed the small device. He put in his number and gave her the device back, having put his contact name as “H. Styles”

“Just text me so I know it’s you, yeah?” he rose from the couch, stretching his muscles from sitting for too long. Ellie stood up too and walked him to the door, watching as he made his way into his own flat across the hall.

After unlocking his door, Harry turned back to face her. “Have a good night, yeah? Don’t hesitate to call or text me if you need any help, okay?”

Ellie wanted to take a picture of him right then and there. The dim lights in the hallway cast a soft glow on his face, making his features look even more ethereal and soft.

“You too,” She pulled a few strands of her hair behind her ear and leaned her body against her door frame. “And thank you, that’s very sweet of you.”

He flashed her another smile and put up his hand in a small wave, the both of them backing up into their own flats and ready to close the door.

Ellie wasn’t sure if it was just the lighting or if Harry was really blushing, but she likes to think that it was the latter.

Once she made it back into her living room, she picked up her phone and typed in a new message.

“Hey, it’s me, your weird neighbour across the hall :)”

And that’s all for part one guys! What do you think about it? This part is short because I’m just introducing the story and our main character Miss Ellie Heart, but the next ones are gonna be longer so brace yourselves.  I’m so glad to finally get back to writing! Everyone is quarantined at home because of COVID-19 and I have more time on my hands now to write. Let me know what you think about this and if you’d like to read the next part, I’d really love to know what you guys think!

Remember, stay home and stay safe xx

[hannah-deactivated20220725]

Reasons Why I Love You

Now, I know that I have already started showing appreciation to people through TPP and BotW, but you guys (well, most of you) know me... when I get to drinking, I get to loving.

Well, okay, I haven’t even opened my bottle yet, but this is some pre-drink love. :p

(btw, I recommend every blog on this list to you guys!)

Okay, so there’s a few people that have really stuck things out with me through an amount of time. And I know generally when I make these, I try to make them about new friends (and I will probably end up doing one of those today as well, but for now...), but right now I just want to make an appreciation post for people that have stuck it out with me through the highs and lows of this blog, because trust me... I am not ALWAYS so social and chipper.

So! Without further ado...

The first person I wish to recognize is @franky-ts. She is one of my first friends I made on tumblr, if not THE first (out of the people I still talk to). We call each other our twins/sisters because we’re so alike and are both Tauruses with water moons (mine’s Pisces; hers is Scorpio). She is so fun to talk to and she is always willing to lend a listening ear, no matter if it’s good bad or ugly. She’s been here for me for years! Since like 2014 or 2015! I’m so grateful to have a friend who’s always there for me and who lets me return the favor. We have picked each other up from so many lonely nights and so many tears and such... and I’m so grateful to know you. I hope to get to know you in person one day, that would be such a dream!

Next I wanna talk about @mvcreates. Mina, much like Franka, is a woman that has been here to talk me through a LOT. And she is incredibly patient and understanding. And intelligent! And wiiise. She always knows what to say and how to say it to make me feel better or to calm me down when I’m freaking out.

But it’s not just that. She’s so in love, and it’s so obvious and so inspiring. I love and look up to her relationship in ways that very few relationships have ACTUALLY inspired me. I love this girl and I’m so grateful to the interweb Lord for putting her in my path because I can’t imagine tumblr without having such amazing friends such as her.

@leave-her-a-tome is next. Our friendship started with a comment on an idea post of mine about Death Has a Face, when Ikuisuus was only a concept, a random idea that popped into my head. She said she loved the idea and that it’d inspired her to draw something, and the beautiful friendship blossomed from there. Now it’s been over a year (can you believe that!?) of friendship and I wouldn’t trade it for the world.

Eris inspires me in many ways. Her kindness, her friendliness, her TALENT!!! I mean, have you seen the drawings she made for that WIP? Good god is she talented!!! Eris is amazing through-and-through and I’m so glad to have her in my life. We haven’t chatted as much as I’d like, but that’s probably a lot my fault. I focus so much on making new friends, sometimes I’m not the greatest at maintaining my current friendships. I hope to end that trend soon.

Then there’s @dawnoftheagez. Dawny-poo, as I call her. ;) Dawn is one of the first people to show my new writing on this new blog the enthusiasm and support and LOVE that she did. But it was more than that. She shows ME love and support every time we talk. She’s always checking up on me. She’s always making sure I’m okay. Yes, I have other friends that do it too, but she does it every time we talk. She genuinely cares about me, as I do her. And I hope she lives the happiest life she possibly can.

Next up is @jade-island-lives. Good god. Jade. My girl. My little mermaid-loving girl. One of the people I got closest to the fastest (along with Franka and Dawn). She is so friendly, so talented, and it breaks my heart when I see her suffering or doubting herself. She has so much to offer this world, and I wish the world would reciprocate the love and effort that she puts out. I hope that you live the happiest life possible as well, Jade, because you deserve to be happy, to feel safe and to feel at home. You deserve to be HAPPY with your life and to have confidence in everything you do, because frankly... everything you do leaves me speechless and awe-inspired.

@gloriousdevourerofstories - we haven’t spoken much lately. But I still consider you a dear friend. A wonderful mutual since the days of my old blog and so fun and exciting to talk to! Her love for reading and writing knows no bounds and she will support you no matter what. She deserves to have the same love and support and enthusiasm that she gives to others. I hope that you are happy. We haven’t really spoken in a while, but I hope whatever you’re up to, you’re happy doing it.

@confundere. Girl. Another great friend that I received through the blessing of support. You are... amazing. Such a blessing on this world. You are so warm and friendly and sweet, so fun to chat with and get to know. Someone I feel like I can open up to, even when you say the wrong thing or don’t know what to say... I still know you have my back because you genuinely care and I not only appreciate that about you, but it’s only one of the many reasons why I love you. You are an absolute sweetheart and I’m so glad to have met you on this damned site. I’m so grateful to everything you’ve done to me over the last 1+ year(s) and I’m so glad that we’re friends, even if we, too, haven’t really chatted in a while. Thank you for being a friend.

Another one I’ve known for a while, though I’m not really sure if you consider me as much of a friend as I consider you, would be @fatal-blow. Your art... is inspiring. It’s SO BEAUTIFUL! You are SO full of talent that it just warms and amazes me. You are so friendly! Even when I’m having self-doubts and feeling like my enthusiasm is annoying you, you are right there to reassure me, as many times as I need, that it’s not and that you appreciate it. And I love that; people that are willing to explain and re-explain their thoughts and feelings about things, even though they’ve said it ten, fifteen times... are my favorite kind of people, as a person with pretty damn bad anxiety. So thank you. Also, you’re just awesome.

@ofvisitorsthefairest, we haven’t chatted in a while but I still consider you my friend. People get busy, life happens and I totally get it. But I do appreciate you and your friendliness and how great you are. (: Thank you for being my friend and I hope things are going well for you right now. I hope you’re happy, because you deserve the world. No, the universe. (: stay healthy, friend!

@ramblingsofabourbondrinker is another person that I found again after I came back to tumblr. Though he now goes by his first name instead of his middle name, it was easy to find him because his blog name remained the same. That same ol’ bourbon drinker. :p if we ever meet up, I am totally going to a bar with you! I feel like you’d be such a fun person to drink with and swap random stories & story ideas with. (: I get SO EXCITED every time that I see you on my dash!! I’d be lying if I said you weren’t one of my tumblr crushes. You’re too amazing and wonderful not to be. But I hope that we stay friends, and keep our social life for a long time, because you’re one cool stud xD

@pens-swords-stuff was another of the first people I met through my writeblr, back on my old blog. We used to have long chats via her ask box, long enough that I’d keep having to wait for the hour to be up because I’d always send her all 10 asks within the hour and be too shy to message her. However, Undine is FAR from being a person to be scared of. She is warm and friendly and so helpful! She’s always there for the people that look up to her and that ask her questions, but it’s more than that. She’s isn’t Google for writers. She isn’t here to be used to get ahead in your writing. She is a wonderful, funny, friendly and kind-hearted person that deserves so much out of this life, and I hope she gets it! Thank you for putting up with me all these years, friend. <3

@theshadowsofthenight is someone that, maybe I haven’t spoken to A WHOLE LOT but I still consider a friend. Shadows is so friendly and nice!! And they’re always there to play my prompt games with me (they used to have so much fun with me, playing my 4 random words games, especially when I first started playing them), and I’ve loved every interaction with them. Stay your wonderful, beautiful self, friend!

And I’m sure there are so many that I’m leaving off. But I’m afraid this post is long enough. To every one of you, new and old, thank you so much for following me. Thank you to all of my friends for being my friends and thank you to all of my followers for loving my writing/blog/games/events enough to click that follow button. I hope you’re all having a wonderful week this week so far and now... after this long-winded post... I’m going to finally open my liquor and take my first shot. xD

Thank you, everyone. Good day.

~Hannah S.

[theartofbeinganeldar]

The Art of Being an Eldar: Legolas x Reader Prologue

Summary: You're a fantasy-loving, LARPing human from this world, who's the black sheep of society because of your obsession for the unreal and alienation of what's real. When you're in the middle of a LARP battle with some pretty phony boars, you fall out of a tree and bust your head. You wake up, alone, and are suddenly attacked by some very pissed-off, very real wargs. Without any idea of how you got there, you got dropped into Middle-Earth, with only bits and pieces of memories of Tolkien's masterpiece, though your recollection of everything else is perfectly clear. And of all places in Middle-Earth, you got dropped into Mirkwood, with some suspicious, potentially hostile, Woodland Elves...

Chapter No.: Prologue

Key: [Y/N]=Your Name [F/N]= Friend's Name [B/N]= Bro's Name [S/N]= Sis's Name [M/N]= Mom's Name [e/c]= eye color [h/c]= hair color [s/c]= skin color

Notes: So, this is my first fanfiction on tumblr, and I'd thought I'd try it since I have very little time for DeviantArt's chaos. It's much different from my Legolas x Reader on there. I added a small loving family to make the emotions relatable-- even if you don't have siblings, or have more than what I added, it's just fanfiction! Also, I tried to make my pronouns for said reader gender-nuetral so that everybody can enjoy it! The reason your character is so wild is for the sake of not fitting in to this world, yet you're used to it, so that later points in the plot can become more... Well, you'll see. And yes, I made Elves pansexual because I don't think they'd care much about gender or age at that point. LARPing plays a big role in the prologue, because your character is really into it for personal reasons. If this isn't your cup of tea, don't drink it. I hope you like it! Feedback, likes, and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

Warnings: Fluff, angst, graphic depictions of gore and violence (Cuz of orc battles y'know?), more angst, slow burn, some light depression in the first few chapters, some amnesia about Middle-Earth because the Valar say you're not supposed to have foresight, hard-core language, feels, lots and lots of feels, mentions of NSFW content, maybe some eventual NSFW content, LGTBQ+ characters, Thranduil being a jackass at first because he's fabulous, Legolas being a hot edgy prince that nobody can handle, Kili being an innocent bean, Hobbits being smol innocent beans, except for Bilbo 'cause he's been through some tough shit, Bard being dad of the year, Thorin being one dumbass boi, awesome dragons, awesome Nazgul, awesome scenery, awesome stuff in general, Elrond isn't listened to by anybody, confused Aragorn is confused,  Denethor's a bitch as always, brace yourself for creepy as fuck Cream of Wormtongue Grima Wormtongue, Boromir lives, Gandalf. (yes these are all legit warnings don't judge me.)

Pairings/Ships: Legolas x Reader, Legolas x you, Aragorn x Arwen, Faramir x Eowyn, Thranduil x Elvenqueen, Galadriel x Celery Celeborn, Boromir x OC, Thorin x OC, Fili x OC, etc. general LoTR standard shippings plus some of my own cuz I can't stand my boys being lonely

Word Count: I try to keep my chapters short, under 2000 words.

Rating: Teen (14+) for now

You'd never been considered normal by anyone. You enjoyed LARP instead of reality. Your "job" was just staying at home and captioning videos all day every day you weren't LARPing instead of interacting with society at a normal job. Your home? A tiny studio apartment that only cost $450 a month without bills, and you did without cell phone, car, and electric for the sake of being your weird self. You hadn't been to college yet, despite the fact that everyone told you to go once your gap year was over, and it almost was. What would you even study? Acting was all that got you close to who you were, so, ok, guess that's fine, but nobody else thought of that as a career. Maybe you could write fiction-- you were good at that much.

You weren't always like this. There was a time when you were just a normal kid, living a normal life. But somewhere around ten, you started to change, and by sixteen you'd become who you were today. If the Old You could see the New You, you weren't sure if they'd think you were weird too, or if they'd stare up at you in awe.

Hopefully it was the latter, which made you feel good.

I mean, come on, were you born in the wrong timeframe or what?! That's what you thought, anyway. There's no way that this world was for you. The fact that nearly all people were heartless jackasses that enjoyed destroying the planet, the fact that everybody had to be the same or were considered freaks, prejudice and injustice were key factors of life and the rich got handed everything on a silver platter while the poor had to scavenge... Just, everything of this reality made you hate it. If only you'd been born five hundred years earlier, or, y'know, in Game of Thrones or Lord of the Rings...

You'd really liked to have been born in Middle-Earth. You had so many books about it, you knew practically everything there was to know, even the confusing shit about Faramir being in the Fall of Gondolin. You'd practically memorized Elvish, and dwarvish, and you knew the whole six movies by heart, every line. And of course, like most Lord of the Rings fans, you had a massive crush on a certain Elvish princeling who was too pretty for his own good. In fact, Legolas was who inspired you to learn archery; maybe one day you'd be as good as he was.

Despite your wishes, you were stuck in reality, however much you hated it

. Even amongst your LARP groups, you were considered outlandish.

Everybody else had normal lives outside of their games, whereas you pretended this was your life. You didn't have any job aside from the small caption jobs you did when you weren't LARPing, no social life, nothing. The only people you had was your mother, brother, sister, and your only friend, [F/N]. They accepted you and your strange fantasies, even if they thought you'd one day regret acting in a way when you could've been beginning a normal life and being productive.

So excuse you if you decided to invite them to a LARP event and let them borrow some of your costumes. It wasn't the end of the world. But your LARP group apparently didn't get that memo.

"You invited your mom?!" A royal asshole sneered, yet you took satisfaction in the fact that his knight costume looked like it was made of cardboard painted silver, whereas your sci-fi Elf getup was actual leather and cloth. His name was Jacob Brent; you'd never really liked him. He'd always had it out for you because your costumes were so much more fabulous than his. Plus you may or may not have actually known swordplay and archery and dagger throwing and martial arts... Kinda. You were still in the process of learning kickboxing.

You cocked a sky blue-- yes, sky blue-- eyebrow to your equally bright blue hairline, spiked up in a short faux hawk. This was your first sci-fi Elf, and you'd wanted to go all out. A cocky grin split its way across your face. "Yeah, so? It doesn't effect you on any level, Tin Can."

He sniggered with his cronies. "I can't believe you don't have anyone else to come with you." He mimicked rubbing his eyes like he was four. "'Oh Mommy, I need somebody to come with me!'" His whole group burst into laughter.

You surprised them by joining in, actually appluading. "Oh, wow! Wonderful, just wonderful! Hey, should I tell Mindy that I seen you feeling up Roxie behind your fort last week?" He paled, and almost everybody in his group of crappy cosplay got 'o' faces. You put your hands on your hips. "Guess what, asshole, just 'cause I'm close with my family and you're not with yours doesn't make it a crime to hang out with them. It's my life, my decision, and I enjoy spending time with them." You hefted up a disappointingly fake spear, turning to walk away. "Oh, and by the way, your paint's chippin' off."

Reason for Hating Reality Number 6, 965: Immaturity levels are almost incomprehensibly high.

Your mom glared daggers at Jacob's Immaturity Harem. She'd always been a tough gal, always sticking up for you when you got bullied when you were younger, but now that you were an adult, she had to let you kick ass yourself; you were pretty good at it. "I don't like him." She stated casually, and you chuckled.

"'Course you don't. He looks like a cheesy robot costume you'd get from Wal-Mart with a too-big crotch protector that's not impressing anyone but himself, and he has the face of a roasting pig. Too tanned, too grubby, and always with something in his mouth."

She smiled slightly. "Has he always been giving you trouble?"

You swung your gear pack off of your shoulder, letting it yank itself down to earth. "Since the day he tried kissing my ass 'cause he didn't know me." [F/N] must've overheard that last sentence, because he burst into laughter when he approached with your brother, [B/N], and your sister, [S/N]. "You talking about Jacob?"

"Sure as hell."

You'd first met [F/N] a year ago, when you'd joined extra-curricular activites for your last year of high school. He thought your personality was incredibly brave, especially in this modern world, but even still... He was just a friend, not a best friend. You'd never had that luxury outside of your tiny family. You just didn't trust him after the life you'd had.

Unfortunately, it seems they didn't like the getups. "Do I have to wear this?" [B/N] asked dramatically, slumping over. He didn't look right in the pauldrons and leather breastplate.

"It's too heavy!" [S/N] complained.

You sighed theatrically. "My piteous children, deal with thy armor, for it must be worn despite thou complaints."

[B/N] pressed his palms together and bowed down. "Screweth thou, false companion."

You mimicked his bow. "Off to hell with thee."

"Hey! You guys! It's starting!" [F/N] cried, and ran off, his pack of weapons and magic bags trembling dangerously on his back. The rest of you followed more slowly, as you explained to your family how exactly LARPing worked. Battles weren't actually bloody, magic was just colored powder, you get points for a hit, and so on and so forth. [B/N] and [S/N] got it immediately, but your poor mom, who hadn't even ever played Skyrim, had no idea how the point system and leveling up worked. You had to explain it six times over before you'd reached the massive gathering of LARPing cosplayers. [F/N] returned to you as you reached it, carrying a map. "We were in Larsgyushter Prairie last, right?"

"Duh," You shrugged, at the same time [S/N] asked with a grimace, "Luckyestire Prairie?"

[F/N] inclined his head. "Well, I made some arrangements because your family joined us. We made for Glewnburg, where we picked up their characters, and then headed into the Elder Woods."

You took the map. "Sounds fair enough."

[S/N] frowned. "What exactly were you guys doing last time?"

[F/N] blushed; he must've liked her, which made you feel proud and like pummeling him all at once. "A quest to defeat a horde of wildebors in order to get a good amount of gold."

"How much?"

"Four hundred."

Your mom seemed confused. "Is that a lot?"

"For the land of Sisgremor," You retorted, "Not much. But it's enough for us. We hunt for food, and sleep in the woods. It's summertime, so we don't have much need for shelter unless it storms, and we know where to find caves. The coin is for some new bits of armor, and some weapon upgrades and a couple of magic books for [F/N]."

"Oh," Your mom said, and you took the lead, getting into your Elven character with a huge grin on your face.

"Come, my children! We must meet the bors by midday!" You ran off, but you didn't miss the looks over half of the LARP community gave you.

~le time skip~

The one thing you didn't like about LARPing was the enemies. They weren't believable and were crappily dressed, at least in your community. They were crappy actors and their dying acts were unrealistic. Unless they were orcs that had good makeup skills and good cosplay, they weren't worth fighting, but you had an imagination to kick them up a notch.

As always, the wildebors were just some guys in black outfits decorated with needles, and wearing pig masks with an underbite bearing tusks. Your imagination knocked them to eight-feet long beasts with bloodstained tusks, wild red eyes, and porcupine-like needles that shot out of their near-impenetrable hides if provoked.

You'd only fought these beasts once. They had three separate healthbars, each a different strength: eight hundred, four hundred, and one hundred. Your spear-- the only weapon you could afford after your bow snapped (Poor prop craftsmanship.), had a damage rate of ten health per hit, thirty if you could make a three-combo move (The highest combo move allowed.).  [F/N]'s magic bombs, bolts of energy, and other magic stuff only varied from ten to fifty health damage per hit, except for his Fyrering, which was a once-a-day power that was ninety health damage, plus a three minute window of burning which took ten damage every thirty seconds.

The boars were also viscious; one hit from them took around fifty health, and at level nine, you and [F/N]'s health bars were only at two hundred and fifty, plus your armor rating of fifty and his of twenty. Your family, however, were only at level one, with a one hundred strength health bar each and armor ratings varying between ten and fifteen.

In short: that meant a hell of a lot of hits, very little openings, and there were always numbers to consider. There were six of them, and five of you. If you had your bow, this would be easy. You'd climb a tree, avoid their needles, and fire your twenty-five damage arrows relentlessly (With the thirty plus bonus from your actual bow.) while [F/N] pelted them with magic. You could take down two, maybe three that way before retreating, waiting for your strength to regenerate and your undamaged arrows to "respawn" before coming back for more battling (The arrows don't actually exist, for safety reasons. You had to wait for ten minutes before an approximated number of arrows, determined previously by the quest-giver, "reappeared" in your "inventory.").

But you had to think of a new plan. A brand new plan. You had three level one novices, two level nine intermediates, and six angry-as-hell wildebors that were level twenty. This was an impossible quest. You should never have accepted it knowing your family was coming.

You were hiding behind a huge oak, and glanced around it; for a split moment, you saw the crappy actors, but your mind quickly fixed that. Above and to your immediate right, [F/N] hid behind a mound of boulders up on a hill, and you'd positioned your family similarly. You just couldn't see them. [F/N]'s hand waving caught your attention. Frantically, he pointed above you. You whipped your head up, but saw nothing out of the ordinary. You gave him a look like WTF dude, and he rolled his eyes. He picked up a rock as an example and pointed back up into the branches, but still, you didn't see anything. He gestured again, almost forcefully, and this time, you seen it: brightnuts, a specialized kind of walnut bred specifically to explode into a bright white light on impact, with dangerous shrapnel and poisonous fumes that had one hundred and fifty health damage.

Of course, in reality, they were just blue and white beanbags hanging in nets rigged all over the branches, but you pretended they weren't.

But still, perfect.

You'd start calling out orders as soon as you started throwing them. [F/N] knew how to improvise to a plan already, but your family didn't. You propped your spear up on the tree, and started climbing, wincing when the bark scraped your palms; you were wearing what'd used to be white bridal gloves, but you'd tinkered with them to match your costume, sewing sky blue patterns into the gloves.

You personally didn't make a sound, but a couple of leaf-covered branches fell; luckily, wildebors were mostly deaf and blind, so you should make it to the top of the tree without any consequences.

You flashed [F/N] a triumphant smile when you reached the topmost branches, snatching a bag of brightnuts and holding them high above your head. He shot you a double thumbs-up, then made a wheel-like gesture to get you to move on. You stuck your tongue out at him, then readjusted yourself on the branch to get a good aim.

A few seconds of struggling against the knot, and you'd gotten the net open. With barely a minute of hesitation, you drew your arm back, and fired. Your aim was almost perfect. You hit one of the wildebors in the side, and you seen the actor as he started the most over-acted reaction you'd seen yet: a violent jump, then what sounded like a deranged "Guuuugh!" You rolled your eyes. So dramatic.

Either way, [F/N] whooped behind you. "Hit! A hit!"

Before you could give any orders whatsoever, [B/N] charged down the hill with his realistic-looking wooden battleaxe bellowing a war cry. You slumped over. "Aw, shit."

In the blink of an eye, [B/N] was officially dead but still pummeling the poor actors, your mom didn't know what to do, [F/N] didn't realize what was happening from behind his rock, and [S/N] was dodging air like a boss. You waited on the branch until the coach of the actors stood, took off his mask, and blew his whistle.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! You with the axe! You died already! Come on everybody, regroup, come on..." Your mom and [S/N] were laughing it off with a couple of the actors, but [B/N] was having a heated argument with the rest of them, and they were starting to shove each other around; he'd always been a sore loser. The coach separated them, and [F/N] called to you from below. "Guess we failed this quest, huh?"

You shrugged. "It's all good. There are other, less dangerous quests."

He perked up. "Yeah, so hurry up and get down here! We've gotta get back to Glewnburg!"

You tossed the beanbag you'd had in your hand back into the net. "Comin'." Unfortunately for you, you were a bit of a show-off. You stood, stretching your arms out for balance, walking quickly and carefully across the bough. A loud snap that echoed through the forest silenced everyone: your sudden movements had weakened the branch down the middle, where a split was slowly cracking open.

"Oh shit." Did I have to choose the top branch?

Everything seemed to be in slow motion as you fell. Your ribs exploded with pain as you slammed into a slightly lower branch full-force. Your ankle snapped. Your arms were whipped and bruised. Your head cracked painfully across the thick, unmoveable base of one branch, and white and yellow dots burst in your vision. Your sight started to fade, as did the pain, until you met the ground with a dull thud.

I should've went to college.

~time skip~

When you woke up, the first thing you realized was, Hey, I woke up! I'm alive! which was immediately followed by, Holy fucking shit what the fucking hell did I break, then a much more painful thought of Why the fuck am I still in the goddamn forest? 

And you were. You were laying on your side, in a couple of very small but still immensely terrifying pools of drying blood, one of which came from the corner of your mouth. Your entire body throbbed painfully. Every breath you took caused sharp, white-hot pains to spiderweb across your entire torso. Your ankle was burning up, and you couldn't move it or your left arm. Your head felt like you'd been hit by a truck. A truck made of solid wood...

Why were you still in the forest? You knew your mother well enough to know that she've panicked. She'd've screamed your name and ran to you and called 911 immediately. [F/N] would've done the same. In fact, there was no reason why they wouldn't have called for a medic. You fell from the equivalent of a three-story building with poles sticking out of it.

By all accounts, you should be near death.

So why were you still in the forest, exactly where you'd fell?

With immense effort, you rolled onto your back, panting heavily and wincing against the pain. Your vision swam, and things were blurry. The trees were different; the tree where you'd fallen from was tall and branchless for most of the way up, and definitely not an oak. To boot, there weren't any nets full of beanbags, and your spear was gone. Behind you was  a cliff with an outcropping of rock that looked similar-- but not the same-- to the one [F/N] had been behind. There were roots and underbrush and bushes and walls of thorny branches surrounding you, and in between the ground was filled of orange and gold fallen leaves; up in the canopy, which hadn't been as thick before, the leaves were all dressed for Fall. You stared at it in confusion. "What the hell?" Shit. Even that hurt.

Where were you? Why weren't you in an ambulance with the sirens blaring? You were pretty positive you'd broken quite a few bones, and from that fall, you couldn't not have internal bleeding. So where were you?

You waited, but no one came. When the sky started to darken and the pain began to worsen, you were forced to move, slowly getting up, inch by inch, until you'd managed to be in a sitting position. It felt like all the blood rushed from your head and torso, making you cold in the evening chill. You hugged your right arm to your chest, really wishing you'd've worn arm cuffs or something; your short, high-collared, sleeveless, sky-blue leather jacket over a thin white crop top and a black corset-style belt really weren't meant for chilly weather.

"Hello?" You called out. Your voice carried on, but you got no return call. Blood trickled down your chin from where your lips had rebusted; you were lucky you hadn't bit your tongue off or shattered teeth. "Hey! Help!" Still, nothing. "Hey!"

After a twenty-minute bout of screaming for help, you gave up. You were confused-- so, so, confused. Where were you and why were you here? Where was your family? Where was [F/N]? Where was the coach, and those shitty actors? Hell, where was the rest of the LARP group? You'd even be relieved if Jacob appeared out of nowhere.

The moon had risen by the time you’d made it to your feet. Your ankle wasn't as bad as it was earlier; you could put some weight on it now, even if it wasn't a lot. You must've only sprained it. You tried calling for help a few more times, but only the crickets replied.

Then, they went silent.

You frowned. In books and movies, that was usually a bad sign. What'd caused them to shut up so abruptly? Not aliens, you hoped, like in Signs.

A low growl from behind you-- behind you, dammit-- made your skin crawl. A chill ran down your spine. You turned, slowly, hoping you wouldn't aggravate the wolf or coywolf or whatever it was; it wasn't either of those.

It stood on top of the small cliff, and it was at least the size of a horse. A boar-like coat, dull brown, covered its entire body, spotted in places. Its head was broad and massive, bearing an underbite of fangs and small beady eyes. Drool fell from its jaws as it snarled at you. You were half tempted to try the "Nice doggie" before you seen the rider.

Damn, it was ugly as hell. Small, malformed, with dark green skin and a crooked nose. Greasy, thin hair hung from its wrinkled scalp. Nasty claws protruded from its wart-covered fingers and dug into the horn of some kind of saddle. It sneered with an evil grin, and a mouthful of sharp teeth.

You didn't know what else to do; you took off running at full speed, ignoring the pains shooting up your leg from your sprained ankle. Branches and weeds whipped your skin, trailing blood. You glanced back once. The monster-- which you knew was an orc-- and the giant dog that you couldn't place the name of watched you for a couple of moments more before the orc gave a sharp order in a language you didn't understand, but it felt familiar. Two more of the giant dogs burst from the bushes on either side of the first, and they did give chase. Shit, were they what'd happened to your family? Some whackjob dressed as an orc riding a pitbull on steroids mauled everybody?!

You pushed yourself to run faster. Your heart pounded in your ears. Adrenaline rushed through your veins. Each step jarred your aching body, but you couldn't stop. The dogs were enjoying the chase, keeping their strides slow enough to still be on your heels, but not close enough to get you yet. A new sound-- a river, maybe-- gave you hope, and you tried to move even faster, your lungs burning from the strain.

It was a river you'd heard, but it was down a steep hill filled of arching roots and thorny bushes. You didn't have time to stop; you barreled forward, tripped, and rolled the rest of the way, hurting your body even further. By the time you reached the pebbly shore (With all of the sharp edges of the rocks jabbing into you unnecessarily.), the dogs were halfway down, the orcs riding them laughing like hyenas.

You couldn't swim, but you'd rather take your chances with the river than with the giant pitbulls. You waded in, and were immediately swept off your feet by the strong current. It dragged you under, and you were bashed into some boulders, getting cut up badly. One slammed into your hip, nearly causing you to suck in. Another rammed into your already-broken ribs, and this time, you did scream, getting a huge gulp of water. A crimson cloud engulfed you as something long and sharp burst through your calf. You were pushed up against another boulder, and you grabbed on, hauling yourself out of the water and hanging on for dear life, hacking and coughing out the water that'd filled your lungs.

The dogs had chased you up the shoreline, and the orcs carried shortbows with arrows of dark wood. A glance down and, sure as fuck, they'd hit you with one in the calf, dammit. You looked ahead of you: rapids, a slow and drawn-out death. Ahead of you, probably a very painful death, but hopefully it'd go faster than drowning while being battered to a lifeless corpse.

I should've gone to college.

You squeezed your eyes shut tight and braced yourself for the next arrow, but you were pretty much forced to open them again when you heard the sound of dogs yelping and orcs wailing. One of the dogs was dead, neck slashed open and pouring blood onto the rocks. It had landed on its rider, who struggled beneath its weight. The other dog had taken off, but its rider had an arrow jutting out of its face.

A troop of warriors, clad in forest-colored tunics of dark browns, greens, and grays had appeared in the second you'd closed your eyes. Every one of them had long, straight hair, braided away from their faces. Most had a quiver of arrows and a longbow, but some, like the one who'd killed the dog, had a curved longsword. Others still had long knives. Compared to the dark orcs, these people seemed to almost be made of light...

Oh shit.

Elves. These were Elves.You could see it clearly now, in the way they carried themselves: regal, majestic, every move perfectly balanced and smooth. Their ears were pointed, but not drastically like the ones from Zelda, and they were taller than most average men. You were in awe.

These were some damn good actors.

No, they couldn't be actors. That clicked, finally. Especially when you were able to see the one that'd killed the dog slice off the struggling orc's head cleanly and deftly before kicking it into the river. Thankfully, it didn't come near you.

Shit. These were real orcs, real giant bloodthirsty dogs, real Elves... This was all real. But how...?

You heard the sound of a bowstring being pulled taut, much closer to you. You couldn't exactly whip around in your current state, but you still moved as fast as you could. Another Elf, standing on the flat rocks halfway across the river, no less than thirty feet away. How the hell did he get there?!

After the initial shock passed, you realized there was an arrow nocked in the bow. You'd already felt one once in the last ten minutes, you didn't need to feel it again, so you stayed still. He watched you with eyes so blue you could see them from where you were. He was illuminated from the side by the moon, giving him an almost ethereal appearance. His hair was somewhere between platinum and very light blonde, and a quiver of orange-feathered arrows hung over two identical sheaths for ivory-handled long knives. His bow was almost as gorgeous as he was: dark wood engraved with golden leaf designs. His tunic was dark green, and you admired his fancy Elven belts and buckles and bracers for a second before your eyes were drawn back to his face, the profile of which was almost... Dished, in a way, like an Arabian horse's. Your eyes locked, and you felt as if you'd seen him somewhere before...

An Elf on the shoreline spoke, breaking the trance. You couldn't understand what exactly he said; you could've swore you knew some Elvish...

The Elf staring you down watched you for a minute longer, then jerked his bow toward you in gesture, shouting an order to one of his comrades. His voice sounded so familiar... It was on the tip of your brain... It was deep and soft and gentle and commanding all at once. You couldn't explain it. Two Elves followed his order, nimbly leaping from tiny rock to tiny rock to get to where he was, then past him, coming to you. Their weapons were sheathed, so you hoped they were going to help you instead of kicking you into the water or something.

Carefully, noticing how banged up you were, they grabbed you underneath of the arms and lifted you onto the flat rocks the blue-eyed Elf stood on, still ready to fire, and stepped back as you coughed up some water in a delayed reaction to nearly drowning.

When you finished, your eyes felt like they wanted to close on their own. You felt too tired, too weak, too pained... Despite that, you sat up, shivering in the chilly evening air. "Th-thank you..." With a start, you realized they might not even understand English.

"Who are you?" The blue-eyed Elf demanded. "Answer me quickly; do not think we cannot throw you back to the river."

Shit. Pressure. Suddenly you forgot your name for a split second. "I-I'm [Y/N]."

"What are you doing in these lands?"

"I was chased," You looked pointedly at the dog and orc.

The Elf watched you for a minute, judging you... He signaled. "Throw them back into the river." Suddenly, you were being dragged.

Aw, fuck. You struggled against the Elf's strong grips. "W-wait! I don't even know where I am! The last thing I knew I was playing a game with my family and I fell out of a tree! All of a sudden I'm being chased by giant dogs and being manhandled by a couple of Elvish pri--!" You were cut off by a bought of coughing that wracked your body so hard that you doubled in on yourself, pulling the Elves down with you. Your eyes widened when blood trickled out of your mouth, leaving crimson droplets on the rocks. Shit.

The blue-eyed Elf ordered something in their tongue, and the two dragging you halted on a dime. He finally decided to lower his bow a little, inspecting you. "Are there more of you?"

You shook your head; you were getting dizzy, and your vision was blacking out. "I-I don't know... I was alone when I woke up."

The Elves conversed in their own language for a few minutes, and the blue-eyed Elf finally came to the conclusion that you weren't much of a threat in your current state. He looked to the Elves on the shoreline, and gestured at one of the ones holding you, who then scooped you up bridal style, but like you were the ugliest bride he'd ever seen. "Und win'doheim!" Shouted the blue-eyed Elf, obviously the one in charge, and lead the progression back to the forest.

I should never have gotten out of bed today...

Despite the crazy situation, you managed to doze off a few times on the Elf that carried you, until a coughing fit or pain would wake you up. A fever spiked up as you crossed a bridge, and you were half out of it as you entered some kind of woody building surrounded by trees and rivers that you couldn't comprehend very well in your feverish state. You were panting and wheezing, and couldn't see straight. It all seemed so surreal, like you were viewing this from somebody else's perspective. This had to be a dream... A very vivid, very painful dream...

The last thing you remembered was Elvish chanting, golden and white lights surrounding you, and the silhouettes of the Elves. Your pain faded, and you fell into a forced sleep.

When you woke up, a breath of relief whooshed out of your lungs. It was a dream! It was all a dream! It was night, and your nighlight had gone out, but your hall light was still on. You turned over to see what time it was, but your nightstand was gone. So was your window, and shelves and desk and computer and all of your things. Your bed was different. Your relief dissipated to terror.

Fuck. It wasn't a dream.

You were in a small room. An orange-hued light came through the low doorway, and the dark walls were ridged, as if carved from the earth itself. You felt the remains of your injuries from earlier-- or days ago, you couldn't tell how much time had passed-- as throbbing remains. Your clothes were still ripped and bloodstained, and as you stood up, it felt like you were just coming off of the flu.

Wobbly, you staggered over to the doorway, hoping to find somebody that definitely wasn't an orc or Elf.

You slammed face-first into elaborately crafted iron bars.

Outside of them, fully-armored Elves patrolled on small ledges beside the spiraling rows upon rows of cells like yours. This was a dungeon.

...Well shit.

Tag List: @tesserphantom​ @thedragonghostofmordor​ @taurlel @hauntedsiriel

[peaky-malachai]

﹒☼﹒

UPON RETURN ⎟  T. SHELBY

﹒♱﹒

✒︎requested: no i just loved the gif ✒︎warnings: swearing & narcotics + mentions of blood, bruises & violence && lots of tension ✒︎word count: 5000+ ✒︎season set: 1

[originally posted on my wattpad, bc idk how to post via tumblr but we tryin’. feedback majorly appreciated x]

﹒♱﹒

You took a deep breath as you lifted your bruised and dried bloody knuckle to the oh so familiar door. A thousand thoughts racing through your mind as you tapped your foot, both with impatience and disconcertment of what consequences would follow. 

You had moved to Small Heath at the age of seven, give or take, your father had got a job promotion which meant moving up country. When you first arrived you were known as 'The Cockneys At The Bottom Of Watery Lane'. You weren't even from London. You just happened to live near the capital. Not that anyone cared.

When you started school it was the same, only worse. All the girls would pick on you for speaking funny and the boys would pick on you for being too 'brash'. It wasn't your fault your parents had raised you to not take any shit. With your fathers line of work, he wasn't around an awful lot which mean you and your mother had to do a lot of things yourself. Which you, of course, didn't mind but it did mean that a lot of people would be confused and usually straight up rude.

They'd say things along the lines of, 'Whys a women doing this' and, 'Are women even capable of doing that', and so on, when you and your mother were doing the simplest of things.

Anyway, when you joined the school in Small Heath you found that being a girl with her head held high and strong arms wasn't easy.

One day you were minding your own business under the oak tree in the corner of the playground, reading Oliver Twist, if you remember correctly. When out of nowhere a group of kids made their way over to you; three girls and about five boys, all looking irritated.

"Wot ya doing, girl?", a boy with a scarf on asked you.

You rolled your eyes, turning to look at him as you put your bookmark in your book, "I have a name, you know?".

The boy scowled, "I don't care".

'What do you want?', you asked again, looking at the rest of them, "I'm busy".

A girl took a step forward, her hands behind her back as her plaits fell in front of her shoulders, "Just wanted to know why you're such a freak?".

You laughed, "I'm not a freak", you stood up.

"Yeah you are", a little boy from the back spoke up, "Ya read all the time n wear trousers". Another girl nodded, "Yeah girls don't wear trousers, they're for boys, ya freak".

"Girls can wear trousers too, you know?", you crossed your arms, "They're actually really comfortable".

The first boy that spoke to you shook his head, "I bet you wear trousers coz your mum n dad can't afford dresses, ay?", he said as he turned to look at his friends.

You didn't think twice before you lunged forward and brought the boy to the ground, "Fuck did you just say?", you spat as his friends gasped. When the boy didn't answer you shook him by his collar a little, "Didn't hear you".

"I said", he spoke, "You're poor and a freak of a girl", he sniggered.

You narrowed your eyes and lifted your fist before hitting him in the nose. He yelled and pushed you, knocking you slightly but you didn't fall over.

The kids started shouting "Fight... Fight... Fight...", causing a crowd of other kids to come running.

Soon enough you had hit him about four times before you heard an older voice, "Wots going on 'ere then?". You turned around to see three boys in flat caps, the voice belonging to the tallest.

"Wot's it look like?", you said, "I'm beating him u-", you were cut off as the boy beneath you grabbed one of your braids, yanking you down to the floor with him.

You quickly kicked him in the stomach before the three boys grabbed you and held you back, the other boy groaning in pain.

Walking you away as you shouted the boys laughed.

"Wot's your name then?", the smallest one asked as they sat you on a bench. You kept your chin up as you studied them, "Y/N", you narrowed your eyes, " 'ho uh you's then?".

The other two boys looked at each-other and chuckled before turning back to you, "That", they motioned to the smallest boy, "Is John". You nodded. "I'm Arthur", the tallest said before turning to the boy in the middle, "And this is-".

"I'm Tommy", he said as he held his hand out for you to shake, "These are my brothers".

You shook his hand and sat up straighter, "So Wot?", you began, "Yous the topdogs 'ere or sumin?", you asked.

They laughed as John spoke, "Yeah! We're the best here". Tommy gently shoved his brother, "Shut up, John", he said and looked back to you, "We're not yet, but no one messes with us if that's what you mean".

You nodded again, "So can I join your little gang?".

Arthur laughed, "Well you're not a Shel-", his brother Tommy cut him off.

"That's what I wanted to speak to you about actually, Y/N".

You smiled, "So that's a yes?".

John looked over to his older brothers, "Oh please, she's funny!".

Arthur looked back to you, "Where'd you live?", he asked you.

"Wa'ery Lane", you told him, "'bout a month now".

"Oh you're that girl", he said, "She's the cockney down the bottom of the Lane", he nudged Tommy.

"Alright we'll come and see you after school and you can join us", Tommy smiled.

You jumped to your feet and stood on your tippy-toes to be at the same height as Tommy, "Nah", you simply said as you watched his eyebrows furrow, "I'll meet yous, by the bridge at 'alf three", alright?".

Tommy sighed, "Deal". The two of you spat on your hand and shook on it.

The rest was history. You and the three brother became best friends.  Wherever you went, they followed and whoever they met up with, so did you.

You and John were the same age, you two were practically the same, it was hilarious. As you grew up you and John would always be playing pranks on the others and messing around with baby Micheal. No one left the two of you alone because they knew something would end up alight.

As for Arthur and Tommy, you all got on well. Whenever anyone messes with you, a seldom occurrence, they wouldn't mind paying them a quick visit. You helped Arthur with his maths and various other things as often as you could, although you didn't tell everyone about that, he wasn't proud.

As for Tommy, you two always loved to talk about the bigger picture and such. Often you two would walk down to the Canal or Charlie's Yard and spend a good few hours just talking about life and theories and your life aspirations.

By the time you and John were 18 your life had changed a lot, along with his. Of course you were still close friends but what with work and relationships you didn't see him as much as you would've liked. The same with Arthur, he always seemed to be busy, doing what you weren't sure exactly but when you did see him you'd always stop for a chat.

You saw Tommy most, he always made a point of stopping into the Newsagents you worked at, just to say good morning. You appreciated the gesture but couldn't help but feel as if you were wasting his time, you were always so busy trying to set up for the day you never got a minute to sit and chat with him.

As you had grown older, yours and Tommy's relationship had shifted slightly. Not that either of you dared to acknowledge, but you knew. You were both guilty of finding excuses to be around each-other and touch one another. Purposely bickering to clear a room of Shelby's out so that you were alone. Stealing glances whilst the other weren't paying attention. Just silly little things that you would try and pass off as platonic intimacy as you laid in bed at night overthinking every single word you said to the man that day... and every other day you'd ever known him.

Of course you wondered if he felt the same. It felt like he did but you could just be imagining that. And you weren't prepared to ruin what you had just because of some silly crush.

However come the end of 1913 your father was now too old to do the job he had moved here to do. And your mother missed her home town and family and as one thing led to another and they decided it was time to move back.

Of course you were devastated, you loved your job even though it was more than trouble then it was worth and you loved your friends. But you were also excited to go back, of course you had been back, Christmas and Easter and what not. But you missed living there, the bustle, the accents, the opportunities and fast changing trends.

So that's what happened, you spent your last few weeks making the most of it with the Shelby's and your job before the day you left came around. You promised you'd visit, and of course you would. You promised to write, and of course you went out and brought new writing pens and paper.

By the time you were settled back into your hometown war had broken out and it seemed almost every man you knew here was off to war. The brothers back in Birmingham as well. You couldn't bare to think about the consequences of that. You still kept in touch with all three of them though.

Until you didn't.

Around a month after the boys were back from the war the letters stopped coming. You weren't sure why or how but they did. So you stopped writing. Your pride was to big to just simply write to Aunt Pol and ask if everyone was ok incase they were and they just didn't like you.

So how did you get to knocking on their betting shop front doors at 11 o'clock at night?

The door opened after you had began knocking constantly after a minute of waiting.

"The fock do ya wan-", a deep voice began before releasing who they were speaking to.

You looked up, almost shocked, "Fuckin' 'ell, Arthur, you ain't 'alf grown since a last saw ya", you let out a strained chuckle as you looked at the man who seemed to be stunned.

"You gunna let me in or should I just bleed out over your shop front?", you joked dryly, "Don't think it'd be good for business".

"Uh yeah", he said as he shook his head, "No come in, yeah, just watch your step, it's busy". You furrowed your eyebrows as you stepped past him, it was 11 at night why would it be busy?

It was though. The entire room was full of people racing back and forward, counting money, writing numbers, sneaking an extra line now that Arthur had his back turned.

"There's a race tomorrow", Arthur told you as he placed a hand around your shoulder, "Now come on, let's get you fixed up, and then you can tell me what the fock happened to ya hands".

You nodded and followed him through the busy shop, keeping your head. Avoiding catching anyone's eye. Someone's eye.

"Polly!", Arthur shouted as he closed the green doors behind you, "Ay! Polly! Ada! Get down 'ere!".

"Sorry, am I causing you trouble, I didn't mean to end up here I just sort of- did?", you mumbled to Arthur, nervously.

"Wot you on about? You're always welcome here Y/N, you know that", he smiled before shouting for Polly once more. "And besides, this is a great time coz Tommy needs a fucking cheering up", he said as he pulled out a chair at the table for you to sit at.

You looked down at the table as you carefully held your hands above it, trying not to ruin it, "Is that so", you began, "dunno if I can help with that mate".

Arthur reached forwards and tilted your chin up to face him, "I hope for both our sakes that ain't true, you're the only hope left, Y/N", he said honestly.

"Wot do'ya mean?", you asked quietly.

Before he could reply you heard two squeals from behind Arthur. Looking up you saw Polly and Ada, and a little boy following behind.

"Y/N!", Polly said as she lifted her hands in the air, "You're here! You're well", she smiled as she walked over to you, wrapping her arms around your side.

"Oh my god", Ada said as she walked over to the other side of you.

"Wot the fuck happened to ya-" Polly asked as she grabbed an old tea towel and placed it carefully under your hands.

"To make a long story short", you forced a smile, "I thought it would be a good idea to find the man that burgled my parents", you cut yourself off with a 'fuck' as Ada began tending to your bruises, "And let's just say.. it wasn't".

Arthur sat up straight, "Can't be that bad", he laughed, "What'd'ya kill him or something", he joked, making light of the situation.

You licked your bottom lip, not saying anything for a moment before looking up from your hands to Arthur's face with a gulp.

"Wait you-", he began.

"You fucking killed someone!", Ada raised her voice in shock.

"Who's killed who then?", A chirpy voice asked as they walked in the room. You knew that voice from a mile off.

"John?", you called out, "John is that you, come 'ere", you said as you tried your best to turn towards the direction of the voice but Ada and Polly were blocking your view.

"Oh fuck off", John said as he pulled out a chair next to Arthur and next to you, "You didn't come and see me first! I'm offended" he joked, "When did you get back?", he beamed as he leant onto the table, hands clasped, "How are you? Any crazy stories to tell me coz I've got loads and- The fock happened to your hand?", John besieged you with questions.  

You laughed, "Yeah, missed you too, mate", you said simply as you looked back down at your hands which were stinging now as Polly cleaned them with neat alcohol.

"So do you wanna go down the Garrison after this then?", John simply asked you, ignoring the fact you were being patched up and hadn't seen him since 1913. It was as if you hadn't even spend half an hour apart let alone five or so years.

You looked up with a beaming smile across your red lips, "Fuck kind of a question is that .. of course I do, John".

Arthur cheered as he got up and reached up on top of the kitchen cabinet and grabbed a bottle of whisky. Finding a few small glasses he poured out some drinks, passing them around. John holding yours as both your hands were currently being worked on.

"To this one", Arthur said as he ruffled your hair slightly, just like he had to when you were kids (which you hated, but now it seemed comforting), before everyone cheered slightly and downed their drink.

"Who we toasting to this time then, ay?", a quite deep voice spoke from across the room. Arthur turned around in shock, spilling the bottle of whiskey over that he had brought over and left on the table. "Oh fuck sake Tommy, look what you made me do!", he shouted.

"You fucking idiot", Polly complained as she looked up, "I brought that whiskey to drink, not wash the floor with!".

John burst out laughing as he watched Arthur scuttle around trying to find something to soak it up with. As Ada left your side to help her brother, you looked up back to where the voice had come from.

Thomas.

You gulped softly, running your eyes over the man across the room. He seemed colder, more mature but rather in a sense that he had lost any grip on hope or joy. A contrast to how John seemed. As you looked back up to his face you blushed as you realised he was already staring back at you.

He walked over as he took his cap off, shoving it into his pocket and pulling out a cigarette.

He sat down at the table, stealing Arthur's seat, who was still trying to apologise to Polly for spilling her drink.

"Bet you're glad to be back", Tommy joked dryly as he placed his cigarette in his mouth and nodded in your direction as he pulled out out a light.

You smiled, "Yeah, I definitely missed this", you said sincerely, looking over at everyone, "Whatever 'this' is", you laughed, looking back over at Tommy.

Everyone pretended to still be busy as they all secretly listened in on the exchange between the two of you - amazed that Tommy had even cracked a smile.

"Right, well that should be fine now", Polly tapped your shoulder, "Just don't get into any fights for about a week, at least", she smiled before walking off, taking Ada and Arthur with her. Leaving John who was playing with his thumbs.

"So the Garrison yeah?", you looked over at your best mate, "tonight?".

"Yeah", he smiled, "I'll buy the first round".

You tilted your head with narrowed eyes, "Don't you practically own the pub", you asked as the smell of Tommy's cigarette filled your nose, in a weird sense it was comforting to you.

John nodded with a shrug, "So you won't be buying it then, will you?", you laughed, "And I will".

"Yeah something like that", he laugh as he stood up, "That's what you get for leavin' us".

"Yeah, coz it's not like you went away to war or anything anyway", you shouted after him as he walked off, acting offended. You let out a quiet snort as you watched.

"Why didn't ya visit?", Tommy spoke after a moment, "Y'know, when we got back".

"Yous stopped writing", you said plainly, "So I thought yuh didn't wanna see me", you shrugged as you looked down at your bruised hands.

"We didn't stop.. you stopped", Tommy leant back in his chair.

"Um, No", you furrowed your eyebrows, "I didn't stop writing first, why would I've done that", you argued.

Tommy shook his head slightly, blowing smoke out as he rubbed his temples, "I know what happened". You looked at him expectantly, waiting for him to explain. "Someone stopped delivering our letters and stealing yours when they got here", he leant forward, looking down at your hands, clenching his jaw, "Wot happened?".

"But- But why would someone do that?", you asked, ignoring his question.

"Dunno", he said and thought for a moment, "I'll ask Finn, he used to collect our post and such".

"Finn?", you raised your eyebrows, "Oh my god, is Finn the boy that- oh my god he's so grown up now!", you gasped.

Tommy smiled, "Shot up when we all went away, didn't he?". You nodded, shifting in your seat, turning towards Tommy slightly as you leant back.

"What happened?", Tommy asked again, in reference to your hands. You watched as he brushed away any dirt on the table, not wanting anything to get lodged in your cuts even if they were now covered and treated. You studied his hands now, all the small marks left from old cuts and gashes.

"Um", you didn't know where to start, "Just after the war ended, y'know, everyone settling back in best they could, everyone still disorientated", you absentmindedly began tapping your foot under the table as you continued. Tommy noticed but kept quite. "Well this man, I knew him actually — right cock'ead, worked at the butchers and spied on all the school girls when they walked 'ome", you grimaced, "So yeah anyway, it was a Wednesday evening, I'd popped round to me parents 'ouse, just two roads away from mine, and um", you licked your bottom lip, lightly biting the skin on the inside.

"When I got- when I got there they were both knocked out cold, only just fuckin' breathin'", you shook your head as you remembered, your tapping growing louder, "That's when I realised someone was in thee 'ouse". Tommy held his chin high as he tried to contain his displeasure, not only had this mysterious man caused you pain but also your parents - who he knew well and respected.

"So I goes up stairs and the pig is filing though my mothers jewellery box ain't he?", you laughed dryly to yourself, "Only to realise everything is sentimental and barely worth a fuckin' thing", you cursed.

Tommy opened his mouth to speak, unsure of what to say but he wanted to comfort you, even if he was a little late. He didn't get the chance as you began speaking again, the anger in your voice more present.

"I mean what the fuck did he think was gonna be there? Fucking Faberge Eggs? We're livin' on the outskirts of London for fucks sake", you wanted to clench your fists but it would ruin everything Polly had just achieved, instead you decided to throw your head back and angrily  shout 'fuck'.

Tommy stifled a laugh as he watched you so desperately want to lash out, "So what did you do?".

You lifted your head back up slowly and looked over at Tommy, dead in the eyes, "I told him to fuck off and never come back", you simply said, adding, "With a butchers knife in my hand, and a pistol in the other".

Tommy took a long drag of his cigarette as he looked at you, "And people say I'm threatening", he joked.

Shrugging with a small smirk you leant forward, crossing your legs in hopes of stopping yourself from tapping them. "Anyway, he left with his hands up and then I never saw him again".

Tommy butted his cigarette in the ashtray and folded his arms, ready to hear the gruesome end to your story.

"That was until I obviously tracked him down, I wasn't going to let him get away with hurting my parents".

"Did it take long?".

"No", you looked down at your hands once more, "I found him in a day or two, moved up to Coventry .. I went up to visit him once a month— secretly of course, just to make sure he was still there and what no", you raised your eyebrows before you spoke, "And then today I decided he was finally comfortable, my threats of finding him finally at the back of his mind".

Tommy looked you over as you sat, one leg still bouncing as your thumbs rolled over one another, your bottom lip a piece of meat to your top teeth as little bits of your lipstick began to wear off.

"I'll spare you the gore but let's just say he got more then I intended to give him and now he's resting in his own fire pit", you smiled sinisterly as you looked up to Tommy. "I feel bad of course, I guess", your smile faded, "But he deserved it, and it wasn't as if he had any family that cared about him".

Tommy took a short breath, straightening his back and smoothing his waistcoat down before looking at you with a concerned look.

"Wot?", you asked as you saw the look in his eye, "Look, if you're going to ask any questions about my well being- don't .. I'm clearly fine, aren't I?".

"What about the stuff that's not obvious", Tommy said lowly, "Why are you really here? Hmm?", he leant forward, adjusting your bloodied shirt cuffs, "I'm sure you could find many people to patch you up, and better then Pol too", he joked.

"Ay don't discredit Pol, she did a great job", you changed the subject. "And anyway", you carefully stood up, standing behind your hair as you pushed it under the table with your hip, "It's easy to hide in plain sight here".

Tommy watched you as you walked over to their sink, turning on the tap and bending to drink the water. The prospect of filling and holding a cup in your bandages wasn't looking fun right now. Tommy held back a giggle as he raised a brow at your behaviour, "How so?".

You turned around, leaning on the kitchen surface, "Well not only do I just have to put some coal on me and call it day, my best mate is the leader of arguably one of the most powerful organised gangs in the country, no one would dare give me up", you smirked.

"You reckon John's in charge?", Tommy stood up, leaving his chair untucked as he walked over to you, placing his hands either side of your waist, "Is is that what he's told you".

You gulped with a playful expression still on your face, "Well Arthur's too hot-headed and you're too collected, Johns a mix of both", you half lied, just to test Tommy's patience. He narrowed his eyes with a sly smirk upon his lip.

"You don't think that", he said simply.  

"Says who?".

"You".

"Well I literally just said the opposite so I don't exactly understan-".

Tommy cut you off as he leant closer, his hands subconsciously moving closer to your body as they glided across the surface edge, "Your body language", he said as if it was obvious, "Your heart".

You let out a loud dry laugh, trying to outwit him as you held your chin high, feigning confidence, "What do they say then? Because my brain is saying that you're embarrassed by my opinions".

"Well for starters you've ended up in my old house, pinned to a surface by me", Tommy took a shallow breath as he stood up straight, now his chest was practically touching yours, "Not John", he looked down into your eyes, holding your gaze, "Not Arthur, and not Jack from down the lane who used to flirt with you every fockin' chance he got".

You bit your lip, praying that no one would interrupt this, wanting to see how far it could go.

Of course you had thought about this before. You and Tommy. The way you both bounced off of eachother so well, the way you never felt awkward around eachother, the way you just understood eachother. Tommy and You. Of course you had thought about his lips on yours before, his hands on your waist- around your neck. The two of you cuddled up after a long day of running the betting shop. It had occupied the small space at the back of your mind since you were fourteen. You ignored it best you could though.

But over time that small space had become bigger, migrating to the front of your brain. And after all of your hard work getting it to shut up whilst you were back home, you had to come back to Birmingham and run into him. He had to ruin it and make you fall for his rubbish all over again.

Or maybe you came to Birmingham for that exact reason. Shit. He was right.

"No, you're in front of me", He said as you looked back into his eyes, "And I think we both know why".

"Do we?".

Tommy narrowed his eyes a playful smirk grew upon his lips, he chuckled to himself quietly, just above a whisper, "You know what your problem is?", he asked.

You shook your head a little, not trusting yourself to speak, afraid you would give in to him first.

"You're too stubborn, your ego is the size of a circus".

You furrow you're eyebrows with a gasp, "Am not!", you childishly defended yourself, "What makes me stubborn then, huh?".

"The fact you won't admit you've come here to see me".

"Well in actual fact, if I had come to see anyone, it would be John", you raised an eyebrow, "But as I said, I just ended up here and I'm glad I did because Polly is the only other person besides from my mum that I'd trust to patch me up".

Tommy returned back to his infamous imperturbable expression as he looked at you, "Why aren't you with John Boy now then? Ay?", he pressed, "Why aren't you terrorising Harry with him down at the Garrison?".

You shrugged, "Maybe", you smirked, "Maybe because you've trapped me in this godforsaken little kitchen because you're to scared to admit that you fancy me", you flushed a little as you finished your sentence, your heart racing as you wondered if this was the end of you and Tommy. Whatever you and Tommy was.

Tommy clenched his jaw, his eyes darting from your eyes, to your chest, to your hands, to your lips. "Well go on then", he stepped back, leaving you just enough space to walk away, "Go off and play with John then".

You frowned, eyes narrowed as you wondered if he was being serious, it was hard to tell with him.

You pushed yourself off of the counter, closing the gap between you both again as you stood as tall as you could. Your nose practically touching his chin as you looked up to him. "Fine", you said coldly, "I'll see you later then, after I'm done catching up with John", you quickly turned and headed for the front door before you could fall victim to Tommy's eyes again.

"And my Gin", you shouted before the door slammed shut behind you.

Damn both of your conceit.

﹒♱﹒

✒︎author note: part two? + plus plz comment any spelling mistakes etc ✒︎requests: open 09/2019

~ published: 29.10.2019 ~

﹒☼﹒

[cesabutterflywrites]

Prince in the Storm: Chapter Five

Summary: Contrary to popular belief, Virgil was sensitive. Most people saw him as some “spooky, broody dude”, when in reality he was just a private person. Teachers tried to open his mind up with a figurative crowbar. Everyone tried to get him to open up. Well, everyone except his best friend Talyn. They were the only one who understood his personality and inner workings just enough to be his friend. However, they haven’t seen his Marking. No one other than his parents have.

Contrary to popular belief, Roman was sensitive. Most people saw him as a fanciful, dreamy, somewhat egotistical thespian who wanted nothing but to be the best of the best. Everyone cheered him on in his performances. Everyone praised his original works. Anything he made others enjoyed. People would whisper about his Marking, wondering where it was and when he would reveal it. He had a whole circle of friends, yet no one except his best friend Joan understood him. Joan was the only one who saw Roman’s insecurities.

As students of Kingston High School, with zany principals and try-hard superintendents, it is up to Virgil and Roman to stay alive enough to fulfill their destiny. Ao3

Word Count:   1824

Chapter Warnings: cursing, mean remarks, arguing tell me if I need to add more

Prologue, Chapter One, Chapter Two, Chapter Three, Chapter Four, Chapter Five, Chapter Six, Chapter Seven, Chapter Eight, Chapter Nine, Chapter Ten, Chapter Eleven, Chapter Twelve, Chapter Thirteen, Chapter Fourteen, Chapter Fifteen

Bonuses: Immune to Change

Chapter Five

Virgil had survived the first two weeks of school. Mostly. Two weeks in, the principal had decided to change their mascot and school colors. No one knew why. There were rumors, of course, but Virgil didn’t care that much. They were probably going to be changed more often. Principal Duke had been known to be very indecisive and impulsive. He seemed to put all of his attention into the more frivolous parts of the school. Colors, spirit weeks, events, mascots. 

Meanwhile, the important things were left in the dust. Teachers were always scowling, supplies were never ordered on time, and one time in Virgil’s sophomore year they missed one of the state standardized tests. He honestly found it kinda funny, even if it meant his education was a waste.

He had overslept Monday morning after a long weekend of staying up late mindlessly scrolling through tumblr, snacking on chips, and texting Talyn. He forgot to set his alarm for school, so his dad had to come in and wake him up. Meaning he had to skip breakfast in order for them to leave on time. 

He walked sluggishly into his Chemistry class. He wasn’t feeling like trying in a class he already sucked in. He sat at his desk right as the late bell rang. Yay. right on time, he thought to himself sarcastically, Wasn’t worth skipping breakfast though.

He leaned his head on his desk as his Chemistry teacher, Mr. Charles, started their warm up. He didn’t bother to listen, he was too tired. All he could think about was his warm bed that he was practically pulled out of. All those thoughts of sleep must have been very convincing, because next thing he knew he heard a stern voice next to him snipe, “Mr. Sanders!” 

“Pancakes!” Virgil shouted with a start. The class laughed at him, causing him to blush hard. 

Mr. Charles just raised an eyebrow at him, “I take it you skipped breakfast this morning?” 

Virgil asked, “Yeah, how did you know?” confused. It took him a few seconds to realize that he did shout out a breakfast food. 

Mr. Charles just walked back to the front of the classroom. “How many of you skipped breakfast this morning?” He addressed the class. 

More than half the class raised their hands. The teacher pointed to someone raising their hand, “Why did you miss breakfast?” 

The girl shrugged. “Nothing? No reason at all?” he asked. Seeing her blush and turn her head down, he motioned to Virgil. “Why did you miss breakfast?” 

Virgil squirmed in his chair, not liking that many eyes on him. He muttered, “Slept in too late.” 

Evidently his teacher had good hearing, because he started, “Alright class, today we’re going to take a break from negative and positive charges to talk about setting a better lifestyle for ourselves. You can not expect to do well in my class when you ignore basic self care. So to start we will talk about the importance of breakfast.”

Virgil rolled his eyes. He quietly pulled his phone out to sit on his lap so he could look at it when Mr. Charles wasn’t paying attention to him. He didn’t need to care about a ‘better lifestyle’. Even if he tried it out, he’d probably back out within the first two weeks. Plus his dad’s cooking was healthy enough. 

He shifted uncomfortably in his chair at the thought that him dozing off in class led to his teacher changing subjects for the day. Everyone must have hated him more. 

When the bell rang, he was very quick to pack up his bag. He nearly made it to the door before he heard the dreaded, “Virgil, hang back for a second.” 

He closed his eyes and sighed in frustration. Of course he had to get called back. He turned around quickly and leaned against one of the desks. Act tough, get respect. 

Mr. Charles was sitting behind his desk resting his chin on folded hands. “How are you feeling?” 

He scoffed in response. “Fantastic, Mr. Charles,” responding sarcastically.

The teacher cleared his throat. “Actually, when class is not in session, it would be easier to call me by my first name; Logan.” 

Virgil barked out a hollow laugh in mocked astonishment. “Wow, teach, sorry- Logan. Who knew you were capable of being one of the cool ones? I thought from the way you acted you had a stick up your-” 

“That’s enough Mr. Sanders.” Logan cut him off sternly. “If you finish that statement, I will have no choice to put you in detention.” 

That was it. Virgil had lost his patience for the day. “Whatever, go ahead then. What’s more time in a shitty desk to me?” He didn’t bother to wait for a response before storming out and slamming the door behind him. He pushed out imagined thoughts of his father’s disappointed face when he got the news of detention. 

Once again, he was in too much of a rush to pay attention to where he was going. Once again, he ran into someone. Once again, that person had to be Roman freaking King. 

They were learning how to not fall when running into each other it seemed, because they only brushed shoulders a bit too harshly. Virgil couldn’t take it. He was tired, he was pissed, and he was done. 

“Oh my God, what is your deal, Emo Nightmare?” Roman cried incredulously. “One would think you had a bit of a crush, considering how many times you’ve ‘accidentally’”, he air quoted, “ran into me.” 

“Oh my God, King, how many times do I have to point out that it’s your giant ego blocking your vision? Why don’t you go sing some show tunes in an assembly or something.” Virgil snapped. Students passing by sent curious glances their way. 

Roman sputtered, making offended noises. “I don’t know what’s up your butt, but leave me alone because clearly you’re not meant to be around us normal people. You know, kids who actually care about what we want to learn!”

That stung Virgil, but he didn’t dare show it. Instead he did what he did whenever someone insulted him. He got into Roman’s face, their height being close but he straightened his back enough to tower over the boy just enough for his eyes to widen in fear. 

“I’d watch how you speak to me, King, otherwise you’ll find yourself in very. Dangerous. Territory.” he threatened. Roman’s nod was all he needed for a response. 

He turned on his heel and slouched. The whispers from the other students, including Roman, calling him a creep stabbed him like a baptism in sewing needles. He tried not to care, he got everyone’s guard up enough that they’d give him the isolation he wanted for the day.

~~~~

Roman hadn’t felt like himself after the run in with Virgil, so he decided to skip lunch with his friends. He texted Joan to let them know that he had to be alone for a bit. He didn’t need to check for a response. He always had a closer friendship with Joan than any of his other friends. Perhaps it was the way they would be able to work together to create amazing pieces of art. 

When he needed to be alone to think, he’d go outside to the courtyard in the center of the school. Not many students hung out there during lunch, and the ones who did usually kept to themselves. This afternoon, he was pleasantly surprised to see he was the only student there. He was free to sit quietly and think. Usually he went to try to get inspiration for a new creative project, or write some poetry. That afternoon, it was just to re-center himself. 

He pulled out his notebook, thinking that maybe a poem wasn’t too bad of an idea. He fiddled around with his pencil while he looked around the courtyard. He wasn’t necessarily taking in any detail, just looking for something to catch his attention. Boy, was his attention caught. 

He saw an older man in a suit storm into the courtyard, followed by none other than Virgil. He quickly shifted to look like he wasn’t listening, and so Virgil couldn’t see his face. The last thing he needed was to be accused of  caring about what was going on. 

“I can’t believe this, your second week back, and you already got detention?” The man asked incredulously. 

He could almost hear Virgil crossing his arms. 

“Yeah, so? Why do you care? You’re not my dad.” Virgil accused. Roman had to put a fist in his mouth to keep himself from giggling at the childish retort. 

“Oh, Virge, I don’t mean it like that,” the other said in a softer tone, “I just want to look out for you. That’s why I’m here. I need to help Principal Duke clean up this school so you can have a chance to succeed. This is your senior year for heaven's sake. It’s time to get serious about your future” 

Virgil huffed, “Sure, you’re doing it for me. Not because it’s your job or anything.” 

There was quiet in the courtyard. Roman kept himself completely still. He thought if he moved it would ruin the mood of the conflict behind him. He felt like an outsider, well, he was outside. Technically they were the intruders, so maybe he shouldn’t have felt guilty for eavesdropping. 

The older man behind him sighed, “I wish you could see that it’s for both reasons.” Without another word (that Roman could tell, anyway), the man left. 

Roman stayed frozen, hoping to himself that he had succeeded in being unnoticed. That is, until he heard, “Alright, King, you can breathe now.”

He hesitantly turned to see Virgil standing closer, basically right behind him. He gulped because it was the second time the dark boy stood over him that day. “Uh, hi.” Really, Roman?, he internally chastised.

Virgil lifted an eyebrow. “What, no nickname this time?” Did Roman imagine the teasing lilt in the question?

Roman made himself stand up, not liking the feeling of being small. “I think I should save them for the times we literally run into each other, I can only make up so many,” he tried to smile, though he felt like he wasn’t succeeding. 

“Sure,” Virgil drew out the word, “Whatever you say, King.” 

Roman blushed, not knowing how he felt about being called by his last name. He chuckled, trying to brush it off. He was pleasantly shocked to hear Virgil chuckle as well. 

“Well, Mr. Popularity,” Virgil said, “See you in the theater.” Virgil lightly punched Roman’s arm in an almost friendly gesture. 

Roman didn’t know why, but he felt tingles spread through his torso. He smiled to himself, hopeful that he had made some headway. Then he quickly shook the idea from his head as he headed to class. Doesn’t make us friends yet.

-

-

-

-

Let me know if you wanna be added to the taglist for this story!

[solastia]

Dear Authornim | 2

Pairing: Kim Seokjin x Reader

Word Count: 1,862

Summary: You’re a writer of BTS fanfiction. rockstarjin is your favorite reader that you’ve actually come to be friends with…and maybe had a bit of a crush on if you were honest. You’re up for quite the surprise.

Warnings: Not really much this chapter. Single instance of the word whore, but no one was calling someone that. It was just a comment. Semi-vague sort of sexting (you’ll see). 

Notes: I might make a separate chapter after this is done - like a bonus type thing - featuring some comments from rockstarjin, if you guys are interested. I wasn’t sure if everyone would want to see them or if they’d bore you, so I kinda glossed over that. Let me know if that’s something you’d want! Commissioned by @kimseokmomjins

Being a writer - even if it’s simply for fanfiction - you take comments and reviews very seriously. A good comment or review can lift your spirits and leave you smiling for a whole day. A negative comment often leaves you questioning everything and going over your chapters with a fine-tooth comb. The rare unicorns were the readers that took the time to leave long and detailed comments, stating exactly what they liked and disliked about the latest chapter. Many of these were filled with valuable suggestions and helped you decide the path that your stories would take. 

One such unicorn was named rockstarjin, a reader that had been following your work for nearly a year now. His first comment had practically been drabble-sized, and had covered everything from his enjoyment over how realistically you characterized Kim Seokjin to how he was certain he would never use the “W” word (he literally typed out “W” word instead of whore, something you still teased him over to this day). 

That first review of his was only one of many. He took the time to give detailed reviews on every single chapter you posted until you discovered that in your head you were practically writing for him. It had even gotten to the point where several of your stories were ideas that the two of you had chatted about on tumblr for months, working through every detail. He still seemed a little iffy on the smut, but he’d gotten you to consider the idea of writing Seokjin as “Less aggressive” in the bedroom. 

Your friendship had grown until you were now friends on practically every social media app - nevermind that his profiles were always suspiciously void of personal information. The more that you talked to “Rocky” (you started calling him that months ago since he didn’t seem excited about telling anyone his name, though he knew yours), the more you looked forward to interacting with him. 

You couldn’t even explain really why you were getting so attached to some blank face behind the screen. You didn’t even know all that much about the real him, just small observations from chats. Like, you knew that he seemed similar to Seokjin in a lot of ways, which is probably why he claimed him as a bias. 

Rocky was very fond of puns and dad jokes, often sending you one first thing in the morning on KKT instead of a hello or good morning like a normal person. This morning it was, “Why did the tomato turn red? Because it saw the salad dressing.” You were ashamed that they always made you laugh at least a little bit, but it made you happy that one of the first things he thought to do in the morning was send you something. 

He was also fond of talking to you about food and recipes, acting affronted whenever you mentioned not knowing what something was. He would literally bully you into going to the grocery store and buying the ingredients he’d list out, demanding pictures of the final product like he was Gordon Ramsey. You had to admit he had good taste in food, even if you didn’t think your cooking skills were quite on par with his. It sometimes made you wonder if he was a chef, but the one time you’d brought it up he’d claimed to be too damn tired to cook and was living vicariously through you. Of course, that led to you asking what he did that got him so tired and he gave you another vague answer, stating he was in entertainment. Whatever the hell that meant. 

It bothered you sometimes that even after all this time he was disinclined to tell you anything, but you couldn’t help it as your feelings slowly evolved from those of friendship to...well, something more. You were a little hesitant to use the L word, considering you only knew what he wanted you to know, but you definitely had a crush at least. Not surprising considering he seemed to be everything you were looking for. He was considerate and compassionate, funny, creative, and so many other things. However, the fact that he was so very loud and proud about his love for Seokjin made you avoid looking at your feelings too closely. Because while you were over here pining for him, the only person that praised Seokjin more than Rocky was Kim Seokjin himself. And that could mean any number of things. 

Even when he helped you with smut ideas he got you excited. He had slowly gotten you to lean away from always writing Seokjin as some powerful dom - something your other readers had begun to notice and comment on - and now most of your scenes had him as being the more submissive one. He seemed to like it best when the main character was more of a soft dom, willing to take charge and take care of Seokjin. Rocky claimed that a man like Seokjin who was always working hard and worrying about one thing or another would relish the idea of being taken care of. You had to admit it made sense. 

You sigh and glance at your phone again, noting the lack of notifications. Your morning pun was the last you’d heard from Rocky today, something that had been happening for a few days now. Considering BTS was on tour right now, you’d expected a lot more messages about how he thought Seokjin was especially handsome today. Instead, for almost a week it had been nothing but your morning jokes and once he sent you a picture of his fancy looking dinner complaining about the portion size. You were beginning to really miss him, but you figured he must be busy. 

You wanted to scream with him today, considering BTS was finally going to be in your city in a couple days. You’d bought the tickets months ago, and Rocky had even convinced you to get pit tickets, something you never do because it’s basically a gladiator stadium up there. You were currently waiting for one of the boys to show up on vlive since the last concert before they traveled to your city had just finished a bit ago. It had been a fantastic show and Seokjin had looked as beautiful as always. You hoped he would be the one to go live, but that was rare unless he was with another member. 

Suddenly, your phone beeps and shows a message on KKT. 

Rocky: Kill me

You smile widely, excited flutters starting in your belly. It was ridiculous how pleased you got just to hear from him. 

You: Is there an option B? 

Rocky: We could run away and start a new life on a deserted island. Our descendants will become known as the most beautiful people on the planet. 

You blush and force yourself to cough to cover up the giggle that threatened to escape. 

You: Is that so? 

Rocky: Naturally. They all take after me, of course. 

You: Of course. 

You: What brought this on? 

Rocky: I’m so damn tired. My body hurts and I just want to sleep for a week. 

You: Oh no! Do you have time to soak in the bath? Epsom salt works wonders.

Rocky: I’ll be able to soak later. Right now I’m just forcing myself to stay awake long enough to eat. I feel like a zombie. 

Rocky: Hey, why did the zombie cross the road?

You: Why? 

Rocky: TO EAT THE CHICKEN 🤣

You: 🤭 

You: Really though, take care of yourself. I don’t want you getting sick on me. 

Rocky: How would you take care of me?

You gasped, peering hard at the phone. This was new. Of course, you could be reading this the wrong way, and he’s simply asking to ask. 

You: Depends. Are you asking for tips or in the white boy “What would you do if I was there with you” way?

Rocky: Let’s try it this way. Say I’m Kim Seokjin. I’m tired and hurting after another long night of performing. You’re waiting for me in my hotel room. How would you take care of Jin?

You: Omigosh, are you voluntarily helping with a smut scene? 

Rocky: Sure 

You: Ok, let's see. This scene can’t get too crazy if he’s tired like that. I think mostly I would focus on his comfort. 

So, he’d show up and I’d already have a bath waiting and food on the way. Maybe some aromatherapy candles are lit and some quiet instrumentals in the background. I’d let him soak until the food got there, hang out in the bathroom with him and let him vent to me if he wanted. 

After his meal, I would put a towel on the bed and have him lay on top so I could rub him down with massage oil. Naked, of course ;) 

I’m sure he gets it from professionals, but I think he’d appreciate it right after a concert and bath. 

Then, it would just depend on what kind of story it was. I could either rub him down like that until he falls asleep, or it could go the smut way. There are lots of options for that too depending on the story. I could give him a handjob while I talk sweetly to him, I could ride him and tease him, maybe peg him if he’s into that. Anything that would keep him soft and pliant, because the goal is to get him comfortable and happy. To show him he can just let go with me, let me be in charge of his pleasure. Show him he’s loved and cherished.  

Rocky: Fuck

You: Too much? 🙊 

Rocky: No

The phone was silent for a whole two minutes. Surely he’d heard worse from you, so you didn’t think you’d freaked him out or something. When another message came in you breathed a sigh of relief. 

Rocky: So, I’m gonna be in your city for the concert

You: No shit?! I can suggest so many great places for you to eat!!!

You: Or if you wanted, we could meet up? No pressure and I totally won’t be offended if you don’t want to. Stranger danger and all that. 

Rocky: You know what

Rocky: Let’s meet

[iffeelscouldkill]

it only means there is no room for you to fall [Epilogue]

A/N: This is a follow-up to it only means there is no room for you to fall, my alternate post-episode-5/episode 6 Sana/Arkady/Violet fic that I wrote uh... last September, wow. It won’t make much sense if you haven’t read that, so go read that fic first!

Those of you who follow me on AO3, or who followed the fic on AO3, will know that I already wrote and posted an epilogue to this fic about a week and a half after it was written. But I never posted it to Tumblr. I liked it, but I also wasn’t that happy with it - there was too much “plot”, and not enough of the fluff and indulgence that I’d so enjoyed when writing the first fic. And I liked how the first fic ended, so I sort of wanted that to be a stand-alone on Tumblr, until I was happier with the epilogue.

I never intended to rewrite it - I was originally planning to write a follow-up fic or two in the same ‘verse, and figured that once those were written, I would post the epilogue to Tumblr first so that it made sense. However, I lost a bit of steam with the next fic in the series, so that didn’t quite happen.

Fast-forward to now, and... well, I’m sure I don’t need to spell out why I needed a dose of fluffiness and self-indulgence in my fic-writing life. So, I decided a couple of days ago to have another go with writing this epilogue, and see if I couldn’t write a version that I was happier with. Turns out I could! Here it is :D

---

The first thing that Sana is aware of when she wakes is that she’s very, very warm.

The second is that someone is playing with her hair, carding their fingers through the strands that have escaped from the loose plait she wears it in. It feels nice. Sana closes her eyes again.

A vague memory filters through the sleepy haze in her brain. Arkady and Violet hugging her. Arkady leading her into her room, pulling her down onto her bunk, wrapping her arms around her. Violet at her back. She realises that she can hear voices talking softly.

“...might wake up and decide that she can handle it without our help.” Violet’s voice. “She is the Captain, after all.”

A snort from Arkady on her other side. “You underestimate my willingness to flat-out pin her to this bunk until she admits that she can’t handle everything by herself.”

Sana cracks one eye open. “I’d like to see you try.”

She feels Violet jump behind her, but Arkady just smirks, unrepentant. She looks slightly softer-edged in the morning (well, Sana realises that she doesn’t really know for sure that it’s morning, it’s hard to tell on the ship), her normally carefully tamed hair in unruly tangles around her face. It’s a look Sana has only rarely had the privilege of seeing.

“How did you sleep?” asks Violet, and Sana turns to smile at her.

“Like a log. I hope I didn’t snore.”

Violet laughs. “I don’t think so. I would know if you did - I’m a pretty light sleeper. It comes from being a medic,” she adds by way of explanation.

Sana is about to say something else - ask what the time is, maybe - when a key part of the previous night suddenly comes back to her: Ricky Q’s smug voice on the other end of the line. His threats against her crew, and the rendezvous on Hafizah. Sana groans as her head starts to throb slightly.

“Sana?” Violet looks worried, reaching forward to brush strands of hair gently from her face. Sana realises that Violet had been the one playing with her hair when she woke up, and she takes a moment to delight in this tiny gesture of affection from the other woman, who had always seemed quite reserved in her interactions until now. They would brush past each other, sometimes, in the narrow kitchen, and Sana was often guilty of wanting to read too much into the touch of fingers as moonshine cups were passed around, or Violet’s gentle ministrations as she checked an injury. She’d always told herself she was wishing for the impossible. She’s now starting to realise that might not have been true.

“What is it, Sana?” Arkady asks her, tense, like she’s readying herself for a fight. Sana weighs her options. She knows that telling Arkady about Ricky Q and his blackmail will only make her angry, and she doesn’t want to puncture the little cocoon of warmth and calm that they’ve created for themselves. But she also knows that putting her best friend off won’t be well-received. Arkady will probably make good on her promise to pin Sana to the bunk until she opens up about what’s going on (Sana carefully doesn’t think about all the ways that image appeals to her).

Even as she hesitates, Arkady says, “Look, you know all that touchy-feely crap you pull the moment one of us freaking blinks wrong? You know that goes both ways, right? You can’t just... It isn’t right for you to always have our backs, and not let us have yours, too.”

There’s frustration in Arkady’s voice, but there’s an underlying hurt, too, and a hesitancy. Arkady isn’t used to voicing her innermost feelings, Sana knows, and she’s always quick to retreat defensively afterwards, like she’s afraid of being mocked for it. But Sana thinks that Arkady is more afraid that Sana might not trust her with this. That she doesn’t see their friendship (more than friendship? a part of Sana’s mind wonders) as a partnership of equals. Sana lets out a soft breath, fighting down the urge to pull Arkady to her in a crushing hug, which might not be well-received.

“Before I tell you both what’s been going on,” she begins, “Kady, I need you to promise me that you won’t... fly off the handle.”

Arkady eyes her suspiciously. “That depends on what it is you’re about to tell us, because I already really don’t like the sound of this.”

Sana sighs. “Just, promise to hear me out first? I need you to do that for me.” She levels Arkady with her best Captain’s stare, a mixture of sternness and warmth. It works on the whole crew, but particularly Arkady, who will often back down only when Sana levels it at her.

Sure enough, Arkady grumbles but subsides, her cheeks going pink. “All right. Whatever it is, I’ll wait until after you’re done telling it before I blow a gasket.”

Smiling slightly, Sana looks at Violet, whose expression is intent and serious, before she begins.

“Last night, not long after I got done fixing the temperature reg, I had a call from Campbell...”

She outlines the tense exchange with Campbell, his assurances about Red Gregor, and then her accusation, the argument and Campbell’s parting words. True to her word, Arkady doesn’t interrupt, though she frowns indignantly on Sana’s behalf a couple of times. As expected, however, when Sana gets to the second caller and reveals his identity, she explodes.

“What?! What do you mean, Ricky Q? How did that rat bastard even get your number?”

Sana gives her an amused look, but it’s tired. “I told you you’d be angry.”

“Did he hack us? No, he can’t have done,” Arkady says. “Goddamn it, I should have known he’d crawl back up out of the gutter somewhere-”

“Arkady,” Violet says quietly but firmly. She reaches across Sana and takes Arkady’s hand. “Remember what you promised. Let Sana tell it.”

Sana bites back a smile as Arkady goes pink, looking down at their entwined hands as if she can’t quite parse what she’s seeing. “I- fine, whatever,” Arkady stutters.

Violet looks serenely back at Sana. “Carry on, Captain.”

Sana presses her lips together with amusement, and files away the way that Violet says ‘Captain’ to turn over in her brain later, because right now she can’t give it the attention it deserves.

“He talked to the Fowleys, that’s how,” Sana says in reply to Arkady’s question. Arkady’s expression darkens, and darkens further as Sana recaps the conversation and Ricky’s threats.

“That bastard,” she hisses, and this time neither Sana nor Violet stops her.

Violet looks upset. “He said that someone on this ship has been informing to a middleman... but we haven’t had contact with anyone...”

“He’s lying,” Arkady says instantly. “He’s making it up to bait you. Sana, you can’t meet him, you don’t know what he’s gonna do.”

“He knew about Violet,” Sana points out, her voice quiet. “He knew things he never could have found out unless he had some kind of… source. I don’t know what it is,” she goes on, before Arkady can say anything else. “And I don’t believe it’s any of you. But I have to know how he got the intel.”

There’s silence for a few moments as they all contemplate the situation. Sana hates that they’re in this bind, that they have to bow to the whims of someone like Ricky Q because they can’t risk the alternative. And she resents the loss of what could have been a quiet, peaceful morning with her two favourite people if not for this whole mess. (Oh, who is she kidding - the Rumor has never even met “quiet” and “peaceful”).

“I don’t think you should go in without backup,” Violet says quietly. Sana looks at her in surprise, and Arkady does a double-take.

“Hey, that's my line!” she exclaims, mock indignant, but she’s looking at Violet with warm admiration. A tingling sensation spreads through Sana’s gut, and she takes a moment to appreciate the way these shared looks between Violet and Arkady no longer make her feel a stab of jealousy and loneliness; instead, she feels overwhelming affection for both of them.

Still, she shakes her head. “I said I would meet Ricky alone, and I will. I can handle him.”

“Yeah, but you don’t have to,” Arkady points out, practically vibrating with frustration. “You can’t seriously believe he’s going to play fair with his one. You don’t know what shit he’s planning to pull. He could be waiting at the rendezvous with an army of IGR agents!”

Sana shakes her head again. “No. However much of a scumbag Ricky Q might be, he has more to fear from the IGR than we do. He won’t have tipped them off. Listen,” she goes on quickly, “I’m going into this to get information out of Ricky, so I need him to have his guard down. He won’t, if you’re there. And no offence, but I don’t think you could restrain yourself from stabbing him in the gut if you saw him again.”

Arkady shrugs. “Not really sure I see the downside there.” Violet gives a little snort of amusement. Sana smirks slightly, but then becomes serious again.

“I know you’re worried,” Sana says gently. “But I’m still the Captain, and if Ricky is making threats against all of you, I can’t let that lie. It’s my job to make sure you’re all safe. And to make life a living, breathing hell for whoever dares to cross us.”

Arkady smirks and stretches languidly. “I love it when you talk scary,” she jokes, though there’s a spark of heat in her eyes that makes Sana think she’s not entirely joking.

Sana smiles and reaches for Arkady’s hand, lying on the bunk next to her, and twines their fingers together. She does the same with Violet’s hand on her other side. For all that the situation with Ricky Q is a mess, and it could go sideways on them in the worst way possible, she feels calmer than she has done in a while. And her headache has miraculously faded.

“So...” she says. “Is this the part where we talk about... this?”

She feels Arkady go tense, as she’s prone to doing whenever feelings enter the conversation, but to her credit, she doesn’t pull away. Violet is nodding.

“I think... maybe we should? Arkady and I... well, we kind of talked about how we wanted to uh...” Violet blushes bright pink, but forges on, “take care of you, because you always do it for us, and both of us... care a lot about you, and we wanted to show it. That’s why we came to your room, last night. Well, this morning, I guess. I’m not even sure what time it is.”

“I was wondering that, too,” Sana admits. “And speaking of which, I haven’t even thanked you both for-”

Arkady groans and buries her face in the bunk’s one pillow, which she has somehow managed to steal. “Oh my god, can we please skip the speech? You really don’t need to thank us for that. At all.”

Sana knows from years of experience that Arkady’s protesting is her way of saying ‘you’re welcome’, so she isn’t affronted. She shoves Arkady lightly on the shoulder. “It wasn’t going to be a speech. I just wanted to say thank you. That’s all.”

Arkady makes an inarticulate noise of disbelief, and Violet grins.

“And, so that we’re all on the same page about this...” Sana begins, feeling like the ball is in her court now. She’s suddenly unaccountably nervous. They spent the night in the same bed, and Violet has just said that she and Arkady “care a lot” about Sana and wanted to show it, which is pretty hard to misinterpret. But Sana also hasn’t felt about anyone the way she feels about Arkady and Violet. And living as they do in such close quarters, she can’t afford to get this wrong.

“Sana?” Arkady prompts her, and the note of nervousness in her voice is enough to spur Sana on.

“I care a lot about both of you too, and have done for some time,” she says, feeling her face warm with a blush. “As more than just friends,” she adds, to be absolutely clear. “I don’t really know how… dating… will work on the ship, especially not with everything else that’s happening right now - but if you’re willing to give it a try, then so am I.”

Violet nods vigorously. “Yes. I would really like that,” she says, with a heart-melting soft smile. “And, well, Brian and Krejjh seem to manage somehow, so we can probably make it work, too.”

She says it with a grin in her voice, and Sana knows she’s saying it at least partly for the inevitable reaction it will provoke from Arkady when she emphatically declares that their relationship is in no way going to be like Jeeter and Krejjh. There’s a pause as both she and Violet wait for that reaction, but weirdly, it doesn’t come. Sana looks round at Arkady, who is red-faced and fidgeting with the pillow cover.

“So, uh, Krejjh might... know about the three of us already. At least, they know that I have feelings for both of you.”

“Really? How?” Sana asks, and from the surprise on Violet’s face, she can tell this is news to her, too.

“They sorta... gave me a pep talk. Last night. Just before I ran into you in the kitchen,” Arkady adds to Violet.

Violet’s eyes widen. “I wondered what that announcement over the comms was about.”

Sana senses she might have missed quite a bit while she was dealing with the double crisis of Campbell and Ricky Q. She makes a mental note to ask for the full story later. “So, let me get this straight,” she says slowly, because she is absolutely not passing up the opportunity to rib Arkady about this. A lot.

“You took romantic advice from Krejjh? The same Krejjh who kept inviting us to dinner with Brian when he was trying to ask them out? That Krejjh?”

“Well, it worked, didn’t it?” Arkady shoots back, still red in the face. “Anyway, it wasn’t really advice, it was more like... encouragement. They suggested that you guys might be open to the possibility of a relationship involving... all three of us. And something about Dwarnian relationship norms. Apparently polyamorous relationships are pretty normal for them.”

“Huh,” says Violet, contemplatively. “So I guess it’s Krejjh we should be thanking, then.”

Sana smirks at Arkady. “You realise that Krejjh is going to be insufferable about this as soon as they realise we’re together.”

Arkady groans again and faceplants back into the pillow. “Don’t remind me.”

(Sure enough, when the three of them enter the kitchen in search of breakfast - well, lunch technically - about half an hour later, Krejjh’s squeal nearly ruptures their eardrums. “Crewman Jeeter, come look! They’re holding hands!”

“We can hear you,” Arkady complains, half-heartedly.) 

[lblwlw]

Hello!

First post here, but I have a long history with tumblr. Tumblr has always sort of been a place for me to escape because few of my friends ever had my URL/followed me. This time it’s a little more important.  

CW: Brief mentions of sexual occurrences with men, brief talk of depression, nothing too serious or graphic

TLDR; I’ve suppressed my gayness on accident for basically my whole life, identified as bi, married a man, realized I’m gay, am now figuring out my life.

Warning, this is a LONG post.

I have always been been fascinated with sexuality, more specifically same sex relationships. I was always interested in the idea of being in a same sex relationship but told myself, “no, that’s not me”. Eventually in middle school I played with the idea of being bisexual when I learned what that meant. I said, perfect. I can tell my internet friends I like girls, too, but I won’t have to tell anyone else and I can just worry about boys then at school and for my parents. I had a few crushes on boys, but the thought of actually dating them terrified me and so I very rarely did more than think about them a lot and just tell my friends that I was “too ugly” or whatever else, or “too awkward.” What they didn’t know was that through MySpace I met a girl and had a huge crush on her. We talked a lot and we said we were dating. I never really told anyone. That eventually fizzled out. 

Over time I got bullied a couple times because classmates found my MySpace and found that I identified as bi. I quickly learned it was something I didn’t want to talk about. I dealt with a lot of anxiety and depression throughout all of school. In high school I steadily crushed on one boy almost all four years, but looking back I think I really just enjoyed and wanted to be his friend. Or I just kind of picked him as the one I liked the most so I had a crush to be a normal girl. I dated two boys the entirety of high school, the first one I broke up with because once he finally asked me out (after I “liked him”) and we did relationship things, like kissing, I was not all about it. It didn’t feel right. I thought, maybe I just didn’t like him. Next boyfriend, I wasn’t entirely objected to kissing him but it wasn’t my favorite. It got more frustrating when he wanted to do more. I wasn’t so opposed to him touching me, but when it came to touching him I was like “this ain’t it”. I stayed with him anyway, hoping I would “get over it” until he broke up with me. I wonder now if he could tell I wasn’t into it.

There was actually a time in which I thought, maybe I should date girls? One of my friends was dating a girl, and I thought that was wonderful. I went to her to tell her that I had been thinking maybe I’d rather date girls. I totally blocked this conversation out of my head until recently.

Once I was done with high school I was discouraged but tried to date a few different guys. None of them went that fantastically. If I met them online, I usually came up with a reason we couldn’t meet. “Maybe this just won’t work” It was fun to talk and flirt but when it came down to bringing it into real life I’d panic because that meant kissing a guy again, and possibly having sex. It made me totally uncomfortable. Finally I said, “I wish I was just into girls, ugh.” Remembered that I was, and that I should try it finally. I matched with this sweet girl that was about a year younger than me. She seemed so put together and so kind. We went on a few dates, getting ramen, fancy cupcakes, riding on a trolly in the city, etc. I remember when I got to kiss her in public and I was SO pumped to be seen doing that! Another time, I believe I drove her home but we parked away from her house and made out in my car. I still remember so much of it vividly. 

Eventually I realized that if I was seriously dating her, she would want it to be known. I’d have to face my fears and tell my family. For some reason, this absolutely terrified me. It shouldn’t have but it did. I thought through my options, and decided I should just find a nice guy that will love me and spend my life with me so I don’t have to do this anymore. I did the unspeakable act of basically just ghosting her and pursued a guy from work who, realistically, kind of freaked me out. Thanks to good old compulsive heterosexuality, I read this as my attraction to him. Thankfully, he was pretty easily attracted to me. I recall early in the relationship wishing I hadn’t done that awful thing to that girl, and that I wish I was still dating a girl. Nothing was technically wrong with my relationship that I had now, but something felt off. Like I was missing something. I tucked that away somewhere in my head and enjoyed building an amazing friendship with this man. I did love him, and I still do. He’s kind, he’s sensitive, we have a lot of shared interests and he’s taught me so much intentionally and unintentionally. 

We got married last year and while I felt grateful I had this amazing person beside me, I remember a part of me wondering if this was right for me. I had this weird little empty pocket somewhere in my heart. That I had given up my young adulthood maybe, and that I could have experienced being with... a woman, for real. I thought, I wish I could have met my husband later in life, maybe. Maybe then I’d have gotten my desires for women out of the way and then been with him forever. Because I do love him, he’s a good person and deserves to be loved. I enjoyed the wedding as a big party that I got to have with my family, but I just remember wondering where that extreme excitement was that everyone always described. Was I broken?

Now over a year later, I was sitting at home one day feeling lost and depressed. I had been on TikTok and saw all these young people having fun and I wished that I had spent more time trying to have fun in the past, before I got married. I thought, I could do it now, but what if something happened and I somehow I fell for one of these girls while being with my husband? Wait... why would I even think that? I started to really analyze this thought. I thought, if I was bi like I had always identified, why could I not be happy with my husband? Well, I was, but something was missing. This thought popped into my head: Oh no. What if I am gay? 

What?! Why would I think that? That’s crazy. I would have known as a kid like everyone says. Right? That’s how that works. I chalked this up to feeling like I was missing out and tried to stop thinking about it. It was hard not to, though. And so I googled one morning while out listening to the birds, after escaping bed before my husband rose to avoid his intimacy: “lesbian married to a man”

This article came up about a woman who had been married to a man for many years and they had kids. She started to question herself, and her attraction to him. I don’t remember all of it but I remember getting really uncomfortable but also having this weird sense of calm. That finally, I felt like I identified with something. I wasn’t really sure though. I sent a message to the lady who wrote the article. She replied a week later telling me that she had a podcast called Lesbian Chronicles. I said, okay, I need to listen to this. I listened to about two episodes or so when they mentioned this thing called “The Master Doc” and the reddit sub called Late Bloomer Lesbians. I was like “Holy crap, a community??”

I logged onto reddit for the first time ever. I saw all these women posting in similar situations to me. I found “The Master Doc” and “Straight women don’t say...”

It was like a light bulb went off. Oh my god, everything makes sense! Maybe I’m NOT broken! I remembered all the women that I had crushes on. All the times I thought about women but told myself I was just “weird” and tried not to think about it. I always thought, no I can’t be gay because I wasn’t sure of it as a kid. Now I realized that women especially are fed a straight narrative. It’s “normal” to not be attracted to men the way they are to you. It’s normal to not totally enjoy sex with men... When I learned that we’ve been told this, and it isn’t really true... I wanted to cry. Now I was in the biggest “pickle” ever. I have this man who loves me, who I said vows to swearing I loved him the same forever. Did I just accept who I was and what I did and live with it? Did I break up with him? That seemed to harsh. I heard a lot of women in the same position say they spoke to a therapist. I immediately googled therapists in my area that specialized in LGBTQ+ issues, sent an email ASAP, and felt a little bit of relief. I knew this was real because after years of playing with the idea of seeing a therapist, this came so naturally when I needed help with this.

Now I am here. I feel very confident that I am gay, and my dad knows now. I tried to bring it up with my husband but it didn’t go very well. He currently thinks that maybe I’m just a sad bisexual who hasn’t been able to express her bi-ness. I am at a point a conversation needs to happen again. I told myself when my lesbian flag and pin came in the mail, I would talk to him again. It’s being delivered today. I am terrified, to say the least. It feels so wrong to “betray” this man who has dedicated to much time and work to giving us as good a life as he can. But I need to live my truth. It will come. I’m low-key excited for it. I hope maybe this helps someone going through the same thing.

-Anonymous Married Lesbian