#unlike yourself.. who would make dummies everywhere and try to make it seem like you had a horde of fans at your side

[oreana-galena]

Jald, don't fuck with me.

I swear it.

I'll join your fandom too if you so much as try this BS.

CW below cut: mentions of trafficking.

[mrsbrookegillespie]

+Luke Skywalker (Luke x Reader)+

(Not My Gif)

Read Before: This is for all my Star Wars fans out there! No bash talking the new Star Wars movies in the comments, or else they'll be removed.

Description: Ever since Y/N and her boyfriend Luke found out that they both I have a love for Star Wars, they've planned to have a marathon. But, when it's finally the day something clouds over Y/N's mind, leaving a worried Luke, and Y/N with a huge burden on her shoulders. Will she tell him the truth?

Warnings: Suggestive dialogue, physical touching ( My face is very red right now lol ), mild angst, fluff.

+Luke Skywalker+

“AH!” I jump, almost spilling my popcorn everywhere. “Luke! You really gotta stop doing that to me, I’m going to have an actual heart attack one day.” I put a hand over my heart as it pounds against my ribcage.

“What do you want me to do? I said I’d be over at eight.” He looks at his small, beat up watch, reading over the time to make sure he got it right.

“Ugh,” I groan. “You could at least poof outside my door and announce yourself, you know to give me some warning?”

“But, that’s no fun.” He pouts moving over towards my bed. “I missed you.” He smiles while plopping down beside me. “You haven’t been at rehearsals lately.” A hint of disappointment and sadness clouds his eyes.

My stomach’s drowning in butterflies as he scans over my face multiple times, trying to read me, no doubt. “I’ve been busy,” I lie. I fidget with my necklace that hangs just above my collarbones. 

“Hmm…” He leans closer, pushing a piece of my hair back behind my ear.

I flinch a little from the contact, which he doesn’t seem fazed by. My mind somehow likes to forget that I can touch the ghosts, unlike Julie. It still remains a mystery why I can even see let alone have the ability to feel them. “You’re going to make me spill popcorn all over my bed,” I say. I push him away, interrupting his movements. He was going to kiss me, are we even there, yet? It would’ve been my first kiss if I let him do it. I can’t have my first kiss be on my bed, can I? 

“What’s going on in that pretty little mind of yours?” he asks

Heat rushes to my cheeks. “Nothing,” I lie again. “Are we going to get this Star Wars marathon started, or what?” I form my lips into a tightline to suppress my grin.

He gazes into my eyes for a moment. “Okay,” he simples. I couldn’t tell what the tone that laces in his voice was. But, it wasn’t good.

I grab the remote, clicking on The Phantom Menace, ironically. I grab another remote, dimming down the light. I guess having rich parents has its perks. My hands go for my popcorn, as I stuff my mouth with it.

I hear a chuckle beside me, making me look over. “What?” I question, with my cheeks puffed out. “What’s so funny?” I interrogate.

“I didn’t know my girlfriend was half chipmunk.” I roll my eyes

I try to swallow the rest of the popcorn down quickly without choking myself. “I would offer you some, but… you know…” I gesture to him.

His eyes nearly made me faint. He looks like a lost puppy in the rain. “It’s okay,” he whispers, waving it off

I avoided any physicality like the plague for the first half of the movie. And I think Luke’s noticing. He reaches for my hand, but I move it away to crack my knuckles for the fifth time. “Y/N.” His tone got even more stern. It startles me to hear Luke’s voice so deep, and brooding, unlike his normal upbeat, and light tone.

I try to ignore it. “What?” I don’t spare him a glance, but I can feel him burning holes into the side of my head.

“What’s going on?”

I scrunch my face in confusion. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I place a handful of popcorn into my mouth, so I didn’t have to attempt to talk anymore.

“You’re stress eating!” He snaps his fingers as he calls me out. “I knew it.” His voice booms through the room, clapping his hands together as a form of self-assurance. 

I turn my head to look at him in alarm. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I repeat. “Let’s just watch the movie please, we have a lot to get through tonight.”

He sighs loudly, placing his eyes back onto the television.

The first film ends, as I click Attack of the Clones. “I’m getting cold,” Luke states.

I purse my lips. I know what he’s up to, he’s a ghost, can a ghost even get cold? Probably not, he wants me to cuddle with him. “Here ya go.” I throw a blanket over his face.

“Thanks,” he replies, bitterly, his voice slightly muffled from the blanket. He slowly pulls it away, and places it over his legs. “Are you cold? We can share it.” 

I shake my head. “I’m actually quite warm.” As if on cue a shiver runs down my body.

“Yeah, sure.” I internally wince at his sarcastic way of talking. 

I cross my arms over my chest, watching the movie. I try not to pay any attention to him, and focus, but it’s extremely difficult when I notice his hand getting dangerously close to my thing. Maybe it was partially my doing with my shorts, and tank top, but I just wanted to be comfortable. “What are you doing?” Worry floods over me as he gently places his hand on the upper part of my leg. It sends tingles throughout my body.

“Can I just rest my hand here?” he asks.

“Um…” I bite my lip. “Sure,” I give in.

He gives me a soft smile. “Y/N, if you’re uncomfortable you can tell me. I don’t ever want to make you feel that way.”

Abruptly, guilt washes over me. Seeing him care so much, checking in with me, I swear concern hasn’t left his expression since he got here.I feel as though I haven’t been honest with him over the time we’ve been dating. I guess I’m just scared that he’ll change his mind about me when I tell him I’ve never actually been in a relationship before and I’ve never been touched the way he’s touched me before. And I’m nervous. “You could never make me feel uncomfortable,’ I eventually say. “It’s just--” I hesitate, “--it’s just… you’re my first boyfriend,” I blurt.

His eyes widen. “What?” he stutters. “You’ve-you’ve never had a boyfriend!” He rips his hand away. “I’m your first boyfriend? 

I swallow my fear, nodding. “Yes.” My voice becomes super quiet.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asks, and I swear I hear his voice break.

“Why are you crying?” I ask, finally seeing the tears build up in his eyes. I pull him into a hug which he immediately leans into.

“If I had known I would’ve done things differently, I would’ve tried harder.” I stroke his hair, my heart shattering.

“No, you’ve literally exceeded my expectations. I wouldn’t change a single thing,” I pause. “And I didn’t tell you because I was scared.”

He frowns from underneath me. “Why?” 

“I thought it would change the way you see me? I don’t know.” 

“Is this why you’ve been avoiding me?” I nod. “Baby, it could never change the way I see you, but more me. I’ve never have had to do this, and if you think you’re scared. I’m a ghost who’s someone’s first boyfriend, that puts a lot of pressure on me.”

I laugh, breathless. “I never thought about it like that,” I admit.

“Come here, you dummy.” He changes our position, so I am basically on top of him. He holds onto me tight, like if he let’s go he’ll never see me again. He soothingly rubs my back. “Did you know… I was named after Luke Skywalker?” he says, slowly, as if he was trying to remember the claim correctly.

I prop myself up on his chest, so I can look at his face. “No, you weren’t,” I say in disbelief.

He nods with a smug grin. “I was… My mom found out she was pregnant with me the day she saw this movie with my dad, and that was that. So, I’m basically Luke Skywalker, you know I probably have the Force.” I laugh loudly.

It fades when I realize how close Luke and I were, to the point where I can count his eyelashes, the freckles sprawled across his cheeks, distinguish every color that’s in those beautiful hazel eyes of his that I can’t seem to not be mesmerized by.

Taking a step of bravery, I closed the gap. He freezes for a moment, but quickly melts under my touch. He takes his time moving his lips against mine, trying to savor this moment in case it goes away one day. “You know it makes sense.” I pull away. “I was always more of a Han Solo girl.”

He gasps. “Take that back right now!” he argues.

I shake my head. “Nope,” she teases, poking his chest.

His eyes stare at her in awe. “I love you” A subtle blush comes across his features when he says it. 

I gape at him, thinking I’m in some amazing dream, where this beautiful person loves me. It’s not everyday when you meet someone who looks at you with such desire, a desire to keep you in their life forever. A guy who would do anything in his will to always be with you. So, I said what every girl wants to say to her boyfriend. “I know.” 

Not My Best, But It’s Okay :)

[fromthewifecage]

Grandmaster Kuai Liang/lusting after Sub-Zero

tealbella2000 - aka annabelletsu2000  asked a question Can you do h/cs for Kuai Liang. Touching his toned muscular body

Yes I can! I am very sorry this has taken longer than it should have. I started out trying to do a straight forward headkanons list but I felt a drabble suited this better. It’s not gender or sexuality specific so everyone can enjoy, yay! It became over 1100 words so I hope you like some of it :D Kuai really does have a Godlike body, and he knows we love it, that’s why he’s all about the sideboob. Show off :P

Using his cryomancy and hefting around hugely heavy spikes of ice has resulted in Kuai Liang having the most stunning figure you have ever seen. And what makes it even better is that he loves to show it off and give everyone glimpses of his chest, though he will deny this. He’ll wear a tunic cut just to show the curve of his pecs, the ripples of his obliques and those bulging biceps with prominent veins outlining his incredible arms when he’s been working hard. You’re staring at him again instead of doing your work, and when you blink yourself back to reality he’s staring back, one eyebrow raised, his mouth curved into a devastatingly sexy smile, and fuuuuuuuuuuck, too many tingles all tingling in places that have your face burning with embarrassment at your lust being so spectacularly obvious. You go back to whatever you were doing, trying so hard to hide your face, trying even harder to ignore Kuai who has now moved closer to you, the shit! After your work is done and you’re able to return to your quarters, you stubbornly try to think about anything else but Grandmaster Gorgeous, but it’s impossible. You try distracting yourself, tidying an already tidy corner of your bedroom, reading an article on … you’ve no idea what it was on, all you can think about is that body, how it would feel to just be able to touch him, to kiss those pecs, your mouth and tongue on those abs… oh shit, you’re obsessed. This isn’t gong to end well. Sigh. 3 long and arduous days later, you stomp back to your bedroom, lower lip jutting out into a pout. You haven’t seen Kuai since …. ugh, he must have found your gawking revolting and not wanted to have you near him or his magnificent… no. No more thinking about him. No more daydreams about touching him, your hands on his smooth skin…. You’re brought to by a rapping on your door. One of the younger Lin Kuei trainees nervously peeps his head around the door, spits out that “The Grandmaster asked to see you immediately” and disappears off, probably to go stab a training dummy or something, or laugh with his friends about “that idiot with the crush on the Grandmaster”. Great. You’re going to be told off for being a pervert. Probably frozen into a lump of ice and left outside the training hall as a warning not to spend your time thinking grossly inappropriate thoughts when you should be punching wood or learning how to kill someone with a shoe. You quickly practice a “I’m sorry for being a pervert face” in the mirror by the front door, but it’ll never be convincing enough. Because you’re not sorry, in the slightest. So you trudge along to the Grandmaster’s quarters, your heart hammering harder and harder in your chest. Would a heart attack get you out of this? Unlikely. You hear a quiet whining and shamefully it takes you a few seconds before you realise it you, you’re making that noise. That’s it, it’s the ice-block for you. Crap. With a trembling hand you knock on the Grandmaster’s door, your hand trembling a little so even your knock is pathetic. “Come.” Any other time you’d make a cheeky joke but you’re too worried and too nervous. Your hand is still trembling so you fumble the handle before entering the room. Maybe you could just make a joke about Raiden and have a bolt of lightning crash through the room to kill you before you get told off, that would certainly be preferable. Stepping into the chilly room as you take a deep long breath to start apologising, you turn and fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck. Fuuuuuuuuuuuuck. Grandmaster Kuai Liang stands by his large mahogany desk, his work arranged in neat piles, a smirk on his beautiful beardy face. And wearing just a pair of loose deep blue training trousers. No top. His chest could be carved from ice it’s that perfect. You try to speak but can’t get anything incoherent out. It’s all a jumble of consonants and vowels with the occasional squeak thrown in for extra cringe, so you quickly turn to face the doorway, out of modesty for the Grandmaster, and to hide your face that must surely be a bright red as fresh blood on snow. You cough to clear your throat, then manage to mumble an apology at disturbing the Grandmaster. “You seem rather flustered.” Silent as snowfall, he’s moved to stand behind you, so close you can feel the chill he exudes. Goosebumps prickle over your scalp, down your spine and arms, you can’t help but shiver. The lightest touch of his hands down your arms intensifies the shiver, your eyes close and you can’t help but gasp. “I’m sorry, please forgive me this intrusion.” “But I asked you here.” His laughter mixes with his words, his mouth close to your ear, deliciously cold. “You did, yes, I, I’m sorry, for, things, everything. Sorry.” “Look at me.” He doesn’t give you a choice, he turns you to face him and uses a crooked finger to nudge your chin up. “I thought you liked to look at me?” “Well, I, yes, of course, I can’t not, well I tried not to be that failed, and, you’re, well you’re beautiful and...” His lips are on yours before you start to make any sort of sense. His lips are soft, the kiss delicate like the brush of a snowflake on your cheek. He’s cold at first but quickly becomes warm as the kiss deepens when you eagerly kiss him back, melting into his thickly muscled arms. Your hands find his chest, touching him everywhere as if you’re afraid he’ll disappear, wanting to know this is really happening. He’s cold and warm at the same time, like ice that’s too cold, so dangerously cold you feel warm. His tongue slides over your lips, begging entrance to your mouth. When your tongues meet you moan, and he pulls you harder to him. Your fingers map out each curve and plane of muscle. He’s marble smoothness over iron muscle and he feels so much better in your embrace than you’d ever imagined. His pulls back from the kiss, chuckling at your indignant whine. His mouth stretched wide with a smile on lips kissed red and his eyes are bright and sparkling. “Are you still sorry you came?” You shake your head in reply, your smile matching his own. He sweeps you back into a tight embrace, chuckling again when your hands slide eagerly up and down his strong back, impatient to learn just how he feels, everywhere.

[highroadsteve]

Broken Heart

pairing: tom holland x reader

warnings: language, heartbreak

a/n: took a hiatus from writing but im kind of back! this is totally inspired by the song rewrite the stars from the greatest showman. enjoy!

masterlist in bio*

...

You used to take pride in the fact that you’ve never had your heart broken by a man. You put up a front in which you claimed to be a confident and independent woman, you didn’t need a man in your life. If things ended, then things ended and there should be appreciation for what was. There was no way you would let yourself be hurt by a man.

Then came Tom Holland and he came into your life unexpectedly. He had broken your heart, but he didn’t do it on purpose. You broke your own.

“Ever since the moment you met, you had a connection. The chemistry between you two was obvious, and I know you both had a thing for each other.” Your friends would say, their heart in the right place but you laughed.

“There was absolutely nothing between us. We were just friends, I promise. I would have gotten him, if I did like him.” You responded, and they believed you.

But you knew that was a whole ass lie.

You had fallen in love with him. He was one of the best experiences you have ever had. Your nights were no longer nights, they were just extended days, and he made you feel like you deserved all the stars.

His smile was the first thing you would see everyday, as your phone screen was a picture of him. As silly as it was to have your best friend as your wallpaper, you were always happy to see that smile. He was your favorite part of your day, and you started to fall in love quickly.

“Y/N, smile!” You turned around at the sound of your name, and you quickly covered your face as you heard the word that followed. With a whine, you tried to grab Tom’s phone, who only stretched out his arm to keep you out of reach. His laugh was contagious, and it formed a big smile on your face as you tried to delete the embarrassing picture he took.

“Dude, seriously I can already tell I look terrible.” You said with a groan, giving up and laying on top of Tom. With his phone on his stretched hand, he tapped the square at the bottom left corner to see the picture he had taken, and proceeded to laugh at how funny you looked.

“O-oh my God!” Tom scrunched up his face as he continued to laugh harder as he finally decided to show you the picture. Your mouth opened with a gasp, seeing how awkward you looked in the picture and flushing with embarrassment.

“Ew, Tom, I hate you!” You said with a laugh, trying to grab his phone, but he kept it out of your reach. He was still laughing, his laughs getting softer as he took in breaths at the same time.

“It was funny, come on.”

“No, it’s embarrassing!” You claimed, taking out your own phone and lifting it up to take a picture of him.

“Smile!” You said softly, and he looked up with a big smile.

The days went on, and you were only digging yourself deeper into a hole with your increasing crush on him. You were becoming scared, which is a feeling you never thought you would feel when you liked someone. Usually, you were upfront with your crush and you would initiate the relationship once you wanted it, but this time it was so different.

Unlike other guys, Tom was famous. And not even like locally famous, he was known all over the world. With his recent portrayal of Spiderman in the MCU, he had become a character loved by people of all ages.

And you had to admit, it fucking terrified you.

The idea of dating someone constantly in the spotlight that he might as well be the spotlight, was scary. Hell, you were only known as one of Tom’s distant friends and you were still getting attention.

Being in the spotlight is not something you want, but you knew that it came with dating Tom.

So you stayed away.

You tried to distance yourself from Tom, you really did. It was easy at first, considering the fact that he wasn’t staying at your apartment because he had to film somewhere else. But, once the filming had moved here, it was difficult because him and Harrison were in the room next door.

They would stay for weeks before having to go to another city. That was just the perks of being a movie star. Harrison was his assistant, so of course he had to go everywhere Tom went.

When he was gone, you rarely texted him because you wanted to stop thinking about him. The guys you found at the bar were great distractions, and so was the alcohol, but you knew deep down it wasn’t solving the problem.

You had to get rid of the crush on him. You just had to. You knew you couldn’t date him, there’s no way that his lifestyle could ever slow down for you. It was just not the type you wanted to live. All those red carpets, traveling, the cameras constantly being pointed at you. It all seems to stressful, you can barely take one good selfie every three months. Having to deal with the constant pressure of being seen is frustrating, you don’t understand how Tom, or anyone for that matter, could handle it.

Tom H: Hey love! We’re going to film in your city for a few weeks. Can me and Haz stay at your place for the time? x

Tom didn’t even need to ask. Your answer had always been yes, but considering the circumstances, you said no. Well, almost. You made up an excuse.

Y/N: Sorry but can’t. Won’t be home. Visiting home for a while. Have fun filming x

You lied. You completely lied and now you felt guilty. But you knew if he stayed, you would never get rid of the crush.

Weeks passed and you hadn’t spoken to Tom since he had asked to stay at your place. He was the last to text, so you muted his number and you stopped looking him up on social media. Your heart was breaking by the second, but you knew it was for the best. He doesn’t want you, and you don’t need him to. It’s better if you were casual friends. And casual friends only text each other when they need to.

When he came over, you stopped the flirting immediately. You no longer cuddled with him on the couch, you kept your distance and it seemed like he was starting to see it.

Tom would ask you to come watch a movie, but you always refused, said you had to do some work. He slumped down on the couch with a sigh, turning the television’s volume down so he won’t bother you. He was starting to think that you didn’t want to be friends anymore. He missed you, he missed you so goddamn much and you were only a few doors away.

He was in love with you. Just as long as you have, and he wants to be with you but he’s also scared. Scared of what the outside world might do. Sure, behind closed doors, you were the perfect couple. It was just two people in love and expressing that love. But outside it’s different, it’s so so different.

Outside there is hatred. He knew that, he experiences it everyday and he would hate for you to experience it as much as he did. So he tried to keep you out of the spotlight, as much as he could but obviously there was no way.

You started to distance yourself, and it was hurting both of you so much more than you thought.

A knock was heard at your door. Tom poked his head into your room when you told him to come him. With a soft smile, he stepped in slightly, his posture awkward and tense. You raised your eyebrow.

“You okay, Tom?” You asked him with a smile and he just scratched the back of his neck and stuttered.

“I don’t really know how to say this...but are you avoiding me?” He answered you and you only chuckled.

“I wouldn’t be talking to you if I was, dummy.”

“You know what I mean, Y/N.” Tom said your name, which was common for him to say but felt tense with the tone he was using. His lips were pressed into a thin line, and there was almost no emotion on his face. You sighed, sitting up higher on your headboard and placing your laptop next to you.

“I’m trying to distance myself from you.” You admitted, rubbing your arm nervously.

“Why?” He asked, walking and sitting at your feet on your bed. You looked down at the corner of the room, sort of embarrassed at the fact that he noticed.

“You wouldn’t get it, Tom.”

“B-but I want to! I’ll try.” He spoke up, his genuine voice sending shivers down your arms. You felt bad, you really did, and you were getting nervous.

“I...I like you Tom. As in, I have a crush on you. And I don’t want to have a crush on you anymore, so I’m trying to stay away, just until I get over it.” You looked at him straight in the eye (or more specifically in between his eyes, as you couldn’t hold eye contact for your life).

He stayed quiet for a moment, not knowing how to respond to something like that. It makes him so happy to know that you like him... but you also don’t want to like him. What is he supposed to say?

After a moment of silence, he spoke up, “I’m in love with you”.

You almost choked on your spit, not expecting those words to come out of his mouth. You were expecting an ‘okay’ or just even a sigh.

“I know, it’s weird. But I love you. You’re my best friend, you’re seriously my everything, angel. And...and I know that you don’t really do relationships, but fuck. I am in love with you.” Now it was your turn to stay silent. A million thoughts ran through your head, but it seemed like there was only one that dominated.

“I can’t do this, Tom,” you began to cry, “You have such a bright future ahead of you, filled with spotlights and cameras and people screaming your name. But that’s not the life I want to live. I love you too, Tommy. But I don’t want to be yours.”

The tears were flowing freely, and you hated it. You hated crying, especially in front of others. It made you feel week, vulnerable, and you hated it.

“I’m...I’m sorry, my love.” He whispered, and you nodded. Tom stood up and kissed your forehead before leaving the room.

Getting your heart broken by a man was not something you had experienced, as your own pride gets in the way and you forget about all the men you’ve loved. But Tom was different. You had a different kind of love for him, some call it genuine.

Tom was different, which is why this was a different kind of heartbreak. It was worse, because you couldn’t be together.

...

...

This is not the end. Part two coming.

[5hfanfiction]

Rewind - Ch 1

As cliche as this sounds, time is something that we cannot hold on to. We cannot grasp and just turn it around as we like.

That’s why wise people tend to say that we should use our time well, because before you know it, you’re 26 and complaining about how time flies when in truth, it’s only seems fast because you didn’t do anything major that you could look back to.

Of course it feels fast if all you do is repeat the same things you’ve done. Because if you repeat, time gets mixed up.

When I found out that Camila killed herself, all I did was repeat. It was like my body was doing something at it’s own account; going through motion.

Fifth Harmony disbanded 2 years after Camila left. After that, I went to a college somewhere in New York. I stopped singing altogether and hid from all those fame stuff.

The girls and I tried to keep in touch but eventually, we all stopped. It was getting harder to keep contact with them since we’re all too busy doing our own things.

But we did see each other again though. Camila’s funeral. Funny how a person’s death could bring people together. It’s funnier that that person was the person who brought us apart when she was alive.

It’s not that I blame her really. She was a girl full of dreams. She was passionate, ambitious and very optimistic.

I think she knows that at one point, one of us is bound to quit so she did it before anyone else could.

Camila was a very complex person. She didn’t want to feel left out. She also didn’t want to feel like she had to hold back. But by not holding back, she had isolated herself from us. So in a way, it’s a lose-lose situation for her.

Once she quit the group, we hadn’t really talked to each other. Actually, we barely spoke much to one another.

After she actually quit the group, none of us contacted her. Dinah did, but she failed. Ally, Normani and I were too hurt to try.

But eventually, we grew some balls and decided that everyone deserves to be happy. So if she’s happy being a solo artist, who are we to stop her?

But after we moved on and was able to accept her, she was already far too deep in fame.

She started partying instead. We should’ve seen that it was a cry for help. But she made it as if she was having the time of her life.

She was smiling, a fake one, but a smile nevertheless.

We tried to focus on our group, we really did. But eventually, we started to realize that we didn’t want this.

Camila’s ambition was the glue that kept us together and when she was gone, our dream went with her.

Ally was now a mother of two, married to Will. She sings sometimes when she has time but most of the time, she was at home, nurturing her babies.

Normani became a dancer. Her passion was mostly dancing if you can’t tell. She also sings sometimes but she’s mostly focused on teaching her students in her dance studio.

Dinah. She was probably the most scarred after Camila left. She stayed with her even as Camila pushed her away. We knew, deep down we knew, that Camila was going to leave, that was why we became distant. But Dinah stayed, thinking that she could convince Camila otherwise.

So when Camila did quit, it was like a knife stabbed at her back while she was asleep. She was happy at first, seeing Camila finally happy towards the end of November and into December, only to find out that Camila had already decided to leave for good during those days.

She was happy that she was going to leave.

Dinah cried and cried when we had our break. She was the closest to Camila. She stopped being herself for a few days, locking herself in her room.

She didn’t even take selfies during those days. Damn. A day of selfie less Dinah.. It must’ve hurt her that bad.

I, however, didn’t have time to be sad, nor angry. Everyone was not at a state of mind and I had to use everything in myself to hold the group together. And I did. For 2 years.

But now that I’m back where I was before everything happened, I could change things.

Endless possibilities.

Paths that we haven’t even dared to cross yet.

An alternative course.

I look around, confused as to why time - or whoever the fuck turned back time - brought me here. At this very moment.

My mom and dad are in front, separated from us. Chris is sitting on the other end, an earpiece stuck to both his ears, nodding his head to whatever’s song he’s listening to. Taylor, my little sister, is sleeping soundly beside me, leaning her head on my shoulder.

And idea crossed my mind. Maybe this is just a dream. After all, the last thing I did was sleep. So I slapped Taylor’s cheeks, wondering if I would wake up if I did.

She stirs, a red mark blossoming on her cheeks. Oops.

“What the fuck Lauren?” she asks once she was conscious enough to realize what I did, her hand attached to her red cheek, rubbing it as if to cure the burning sensation.

“Sorry, I thought I was dreaming.” I say simply. Though honestly, I really wasn’t. At least now I know I’m not dreaming.

“Well, you know, when you don’t know whether you’re dreaming or not, you slap yourself. Not others. So here,” she says grumpily, slapping me back softly on the my right cheek.

“Rude.”

“You were the one who were rude. I was asleep goddamn it.”

“Whatever. I’m older..”

“And that validates whether you can slap me or not? What is it with older siblings using their age to justify their actions?”

“Alright.. Alright, I’m sorry Taylor.” I kiss both her cheeks patronizingly, as if she were a kid.

The airplane shook for a second, fighting the wind outside.

I try to recall what happened in the airplane back then. Nothing. But another brilliant idea came.

Camila was at the same flight as me.

Unbuckling the seatbelt, I stood up and walk around, looking for a familiar face. Her face.

After what took about 20 minutes of walking around, searching for her, I gave up.

Maybe she didn’t board the same flight.

Just then, a petite girl suddenly clash into me and fell down while I’m still standing straight.

Her hair is pushed to the side, tucked behind her ears, flowing down below her shoulders. She is sporting a red hoodie with dark blue jeans that hugs her legs tightly.

Camila.

“I’m sorry Miss. I wasn’t looking,” she says, still looking down, shaking her head at her klutziness.

“Camila?” I ask without thinking.

Shit.

Fuck.

Well, there goes my anonymity.

She snaps her attention to me, her eyes full of curiosity at how I knew her name, her head tilted to the side.

“Do I know you?” She asks softly. Hell, if it was me, I would’ve asked, “Who are you and how the fuck do you know my name?”

“Uh no.. I.. um.. have a friend who’s name is Camila and you look like her for a minute. What’s your name?” I lend my hand to her for support for her to stand up. She takes it and fixes her clothes after.

“Camila too. Wow, a girl who looks like me who has my name. And I thought I was special.”

“No.. no.. you are,” I assured immediately, causing her to chuckle.

“And how would you know?” she smiles softly, a teasing tone present in her question. Is she flirting with me?

“You’ll see…” A cryptic and vague answer. A way to reel her in.

“What are you doing, going to North Carolina?”

“Auditioning for-” I trail off, looking around, realizing that we’re literally standing on the aisle while almost everyone is staring at us. Without a second thought, I intertwine my hands with Camila, feeling an electrical shock when I did.

I feel full. Not the disgusting kind of full when you eat a tad bit much, but the kind of full where you found your other half.

She shivers under my touch, and that’s how I know that she feels it too. But unlike me, she doesn’t know that we really are meant to be together.

I drag her to my seat, realizing that the place are full. We walk around without another word, searching for two vacant seats for her and myself.

Finally, the back of an airplane had a row of unoccupied seats. I brought her there, still holding her hand and slide over to sit.

She took it as an indication to sit and turn towards me.

She must think I’m a crazy girl. I literally dragged her around and yet, she’s still smiling.

Maybe she’s crazy too. And we can both be crazy together.

“What were we saying?”

“I forgot..” She laughs, her head rolling back as she does so.

She looks so innocent and so free. If I were to say that she killed herself a decade later, everyone would have thought that I was stupid. Even I would think I was stupid.

“Well, let’s start with this. What’s your name?”

“Lauren. Lauren Jauregui. And you?”

“Camila dummy.. You literally called me that before I even introduced myself.”

“Oh yeah, I forgot… Well, what’s your last name then?”

“Cabello. Camila Cabello,” she says, bringing her hand in front, shaking my hand in an orderly manner, “See? This is the proper way to introduce each other.”

“Well, if we’re both proper that is. And from the looks of it, we’re both the complete opposite of it. So instead of those boring impersonal handshake, we do this.” Without delay, I wrap my hands around her, hiding my face in the crook of her neck, subtly smelling the coconut shampoo stuck on her hair and skin.

She always has that smell, whether she’s 15 or 20. Even as she woke up. Even as she spray her perfume everywhere on her body, she always had that coconut aroma.

She wraps her arms around me, a smile kissing my skin.

“This is weird,” she says, giggling.

“How so?” I ask, pulling back from her embrace, immediately missing the security I felt when I was wrapped on her arms.

“We literally know nothing about each other and here we are, walking around and hugging each other. I could be a serial killer with a basement full of beautiful dead girls and you wouldn’t even know it.”

“Well, do you?”

“What? Of course not..”

“Well, now I know you don’t.” A grin tugs on her face, making her cheeks lift up.

“You’re crazy..” She says, still smiling.

“So are you.” I retort, smiling back. I can’t help it, we have that weird magnetic pull and I can’t hold back, even if I want to.

For a minute or two, we just look at each other, green eyes meeting brown chocolate ones.

Before whatever shitstorm happened, she had always complained about her brown eyes, saying that it looks basic and ordinary.

But I couldn’t disagree quicker. Her brown eyes look warm, mesmerizing and simply captivating. It looks as if she had just created a new color, like her eyes have so much more for such plain adjective. It has all sorts of color mixed in her irises, making it brown from afar, but if you look at it closely enough, you can see bits and pieces of red like the fire, blue like the water and green like the trees. She has every element of the world just from her eyes.

Nothing about her eyes seem basic.

Not only that, her eyes expresses a lot. People say that the eyes are the windows to the soul and I couldn’t agree more. I could see her emotions just by the look of her eyes. Years after years, she would try to hide it but I know. She couldn’t hide it from me even if she tried.

“You have one of the most beautiful eyes I have ever laid eyes on,” I blurt out without realizing.

“You’re the one to talk. I have normal brown eyes. But you.. You have one of the most brightest green eyes I have ever seen,” she says, inching closer, scrutinizing my eyes, watching it flicker from time to time.

She’s getting closer, dampening the air. My breath hitched when I feel her breathing against my skin.

She’s close. Too close.

But just as I shift my gaze to her lips, a voice interrupted us.

“Ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain speaking and we will start our descent soon, please make sure your seat backs and tray tables are in their full upright position. Make sure your seat belt is securely fastened and all carry-on luggage is stowed underneath the seat in front of you or in the overhead bins. Thank you.”

“Well, I guess I have to go back to my seat now. My mom might be looking for me,” she says, standing up and getting ready to leave. But before she did, she turned back, “Well, it was nice to meet you Lauren. Who knows, maybe we’ll see each other again? It might be fate,” she winks and walks back, out of sight soon after.

I do know though. And I sure can’t wait.

[acoolguyscoollife]

Chapter 3: We (Don’t) Love a Burning Town

The town smelled much like you’d expect it to, unwashed people everywhere. Surprisingly, though, it kind of blended together into something I found myself struggling to notice over everything else. The smell of the people was overpowered by fresh bread, cooking meat, and open flames. All in all, it was a nice change of pace, and in some ways even reminded me of home, except it lacked a permeating stench of urine.

Seth

What?

Cool Guy

Have you never been to London? It smells a lot like piss. Much like the smell, the look itself also reminded me of London, except from a much earlier era. The aesthetic of the game’s civilisations had always been Victorian-Era, most people wearing ragged brown clothing. In contrast to them, our group’s clothing was anachronistic and awesome, drawing a lot of glances our way as we walked into the marketplace. Each stand had someone who looked like a thirty-year chain-smoker and spoke like it, hoarse throats sounding painful just to listen to, god knows how it must have felt speaking like it. I was almost tempted to tell them to clear their throats before speaking, but the noise that they would have made would most likely have been reminiscent of a noise the Old Ones would make, summoning Cthulhu at the end of the world. Or something, I never actually read any Lovecraft after I found out what he named his cat. Kinda dodgy, honestly.

Amy

Wait, what’s his cat called?

Cool Guy

Google it.

Amy

…Oh. Oh no.

Cool Guy

While I wasn’t keen on talking to any of the people selling stuff, I couldn’t deny there was some things they were selling that I wanted to buy. Guns that had been cobbled together from scrap metal, bullets probably barely strong enough to penetrate (heh) the skin. Armour that was little more than kneepads… except duct-taped together and strung over the entire body. As stupid as it looked, it would have definitely protected from the scrap guns. And then, as if a ray of light from god had shone down onto it, I saw the stand unlike the others. It was clean, almost pristine even, and the seller matched the stall. He wore a fixed, ear-to-ear smile, and his hands were tightly knit across the surface of the stall as he looked around for a potential buyer. But I barely noticed him, despite how handsome he was, as my eyes were instead drawn to what he was selling. Two large walls of displays, as well as a glass box on the stall in front of him, had rows and rows of swords. Ranging from simple short-swords to opulent, cobalt blades, katanas, rapiers, and a darkly-coloured metal broadsword, which was the one on his back. A crimson ribbon tied around the handle blew in the wind, which I couldn’t even feel but I had a feeling it would have always blown since it was just that awesome. I wanted, no, I needed one. But I could tell from his wide-eyes that any attempts at directly stealing one would end up being flawed. Even if I knew I could run faster than he could, there was also the issue of leaving my friends. Which, to be fair, also wouldn’t be a problem if I could get out by myself. Looking around, I began to formulate a plan that would have made Pinky and the Brain jealous with the convolutedness and totally unnecessary steps involved. Barely any of the other people were watching their stand, so snagging a bottle of alcohol wasn’t that hard. A quick tap on Seth’s shoulder and a whispered request, and all I had to do was get ready. I was close enough to the stall to grab a sword, but far enough away that the man behind it wouldn’t notice me. Now I just had to wait for Seth to pretend to be a drunk and cause a commotion.

Seth

Okay, it’s safe to say I totally misread this situation. See, CG only asked me to create a distraction, and he gave me a bottle of alcohol. Sure, I enjoy a few drinks here and there… and everywhere, but getting drunk, or even faking it, wasn’t as good of an idea as what I had. From what I could see, everything was made of straw, and I had a bottle of fairly flammable liquid. A quick rip of fabric from a tarp, an open flame, and a flick of the wrist later, and I caused a distraction that I think went fairly damn well. It was only when I saw Tabitha staring at me, mouth agape, that it occurred to me that I might have screwed up.

Cool Guy

Well, honestly the plan worked, but it was a lot more of a commotion than I had liked. The seller ran out of his stall to help everyone else as they started to quell the fire, giving me ample time to run in and see what I could quickly pilfer. The katana looked nice, but so did the cobalt sword. It took a few seconds for me to realise that I could most likely have both, so I grabbed the cobalt one and threw the sheath over my back, opting to just hold the katana in my hands. A few steps into my run away, I was convinced that everything was going to go well, despite the fact the fire had quickly spread past where it had been thrown to and was pretty much engulfing the entire town. My positive thoughts were quickly stopped as the black sword slashed from seemingly nowhere, mercifully stopped by the katana I was holding in my hand. The sheath, which had been nothing more than a light fabric, fell apart, and I quickly moved it to my open hand. The merchant stood in front of me, his happy expression now replaced by rage. It didn’t help that the fire was being reflected in his eyes, as well as the fact that this dude had moved hella fast.

“You think you can steal from me? You think you can burn down my home?!” He barked. I had a sneaking suspicion he was able to tell the two events were linked.

“Would you believe me if I said this was a huge misunderstanding?” I asked, despite knowing exactly what response I would end up getting. The merchant… hell, might as well call him what he is, the swordsman readied his blade, levelling it in my direction.

“Any last words?” He asked, and I thought carefully about what I was going to say next, the laws of tropes that I’d seen in movies telling me what was going to happen after I spoke.

“I should probably warn you, I’ve watched a lot of anime…” I began, levelling the katana similarly to how he had, except diagonally.

“Children’s cartoons? That won’t save you!” The swordsman cried out before flinging himself forward at me, slashing downwards in a deadly arc. I brought the katana up, planting my feet firmly in the ground as his sword hit mine, sending sparks flying and a forceful vibration through my body.

“…I was also going to say I’ve been doing kendo for ten years.” I finished, having known that he would have attacked me before letting me finish what I said. “Unofficially, of course. I got kicked out for testicle kicks.” I added, before kicking him in the testicles. I had kind of hoped I wouldn’t have subjected another man to that kind of torture, but then again, I did foreshadow it like five seconds before doing it. That was ample time to react. Not my fault this guy’s a dummy. To the guy’s credit, he composed himself quickly, only brief tears visible in his eyes. A horizontal slash from him caused me to jump back, bumping against a crate that I quickly jumped onto. “It’s over, swordsman. I have the high ground.” I quipped, wondering if he would be cliché (or in the know) enough to respond with the appropriate line.

“You underestimate my power.” He returned, making me slightly giddy inside. “Hiding behind sunglasses, the truth of your eyes concealed from everyone. Who are you to call yourself the victor?” He growled, swiping at me again and pushing me higher up the stack of crates. I moved my katana arm to block some of the swipes, trying to use the force to push him back down, but it seemed like the Star Wars stuff was at its limit with one-liners.

“I’m Cool Guy, the coolest guy you’ll ever meet. And also the last, depending on what happens next.” I stuck my chest out in a triumphant pose, which I had to quickly drop to avoid being spit-roasted by his sword. The clangs of our swords rang out across the burning town, which just reminded me of a different game entirely. A quick leap to the top of a stall, and I was able to see a lot more of the town than I had before. That fire had spread very quickly, despite Tabitha’s best efforts. Seth was just watching in awe, moving from foot to foot as if he wanted to jump in and help but couldn’t. I kept looking, trying to find Amy, but couldn’t see her anywhere. I hoped that she was safe, for a brief moment before getting knocked onto my ass and remembering that I was much less safe than she was. The swordsman’s dark-bladed sword was aimed at my neck, and any movement I made was sure to be the death of me. For a moment, I thought the swordsman was going to ask if I had any last words, but he shook it off, seemingly thinking better of it. Smart, but not exactly what I wanted. He moved his sword to the side, giving me Game of Thrones flashbacks, when a shrill whistle pierced through the air. Much like the whistle, a shrill throwing knife pierced through the swordsman’s arm, causing him to drop the sword and leaving me with an opening. I rolled onto my back, and kicked out with both legs, hitting him right in his weak spot. Again. That time, he had no warning, but it was his balls or my life, and I knew which one I preferred. I looked over to who had thrown the sword, and saw Amy juggling the knives. “Hell yeah, a deus ex machina!” I yelled with excitement, rolling off of the stand and onto the sandy floor. Seth ran over, and Amy jumped down from the crate she had stood on to be high enough to see us, and Tabitha joined us after a moment.

“What the actual hell, you two?!” She yelled, looking at both me and Seth. Looking around, I could see why she was mad. The fire had definitely reached the point of uncontrollable now.

“…Free sword?” I said finally, showing her the sword I had taken. She opened her mouth to yell again, sighed, and smacked her hand against her face, groaning through her fingers.

“Well, we’re outlaws now, so I suggest we get the hell out of here.” She said through gritted teeth, and I pointed to the exit to the marketplace, a coarse stone wall with an archway we could leave through. Tabitha led the way, Seth following closely behind her going through multiple apologies, Amy behind him giggling as she watched the carnage in the town unfold. I took up the rear (hehehe) of the group, jogging slightly to keep up with the rest of them. None of the other townsfolk were attempting to stop us, instead just watching as we made our way out of the town. I skidded to a stop just outside the archway, turning on my heel and looking at the people who were all watching me. It was cliché, but I had to do it.

“Ladies and gentlemen, you will remember this as the day you almost caught-” I would have finished my reference, had Tabitha not doubled back solely to hit me across the head with an open palm. “-gak.” I finished, which really undermined the entire epic outlaw theme I had been trying to go for, and I instead opted to straighten my glasses, flash them a coy smile, and run away before they realised that I was exhausted and they could have very easily taken me. I may be awesome, but even I can be bested.