#Harrison's route was the only one that no song came to mind for

[sunshine-and-her-ikevil-stuff]

At almost every route's emotional low point, I have a song come to mind that matches my emotions/the situation. I wonder what song it'll be for Alfons's route

Two potential options are "All 2 U" from Helluva Boss if the MC hasn't figured out his motivation yet. Or "sry ily" by Elliot Lee

[pinelife3]

An investigation: if supermodels are so dumb and vapid, how do they pull artistic geniuses?

This is a picture of Nick Cave and his wife leaving the inquest into their son’s death. Their 15 year old boy fell from a cliff after taking acid and becoming disoriented. 

I cannot even conceive of how terrible it must be to lose a child. The drugs and the cliff make it an episode of Skins (or Euphoria for the zoomers) but that’s your little boy. It was a stupid accident and now you never get to see him again. A teenaged tragedy. Unendingly unfair. 

Ghosteen, the 2019 album from Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds, is a complex, existential album in conversation with the death of Nick’s son and his feelings of loss and grief. Nick Cave is an artist - his life’s work is to share how he feels and what he thinks. What he’s expressing with Ghosteen is sorrow and longing - and some larger angst about the purpose of existence.

Through all this tragedy, I’m sure you couldn’t help but notice... who’s the babe with the shiny hair and the fabulous gazongas? That’s Nick’s wife, man! Susie Bick - or sometimes Susie Cave. She was a major model in the 80s and 90s. A model and an artist - it’s actually fitting. 

And what’s more, Susie is the founder of The Vampire’s Wife - a label which has become super popular in the last couple of years. (Fashion people eyeroll The Vampire’s Wife because every dress has the same silhouette, but that’s out of the scope of this blog.)

There is a perception that models are are vapid and unserious. Their job is to look good, keep their mouth shut, and move merchandise. They cannot offer anything profound because their value is surface level. Men and women both push this way of thinking. 

For example, when Brad Pitt was recently revealed to be dating 27 year old model Nicole Poturalski, people were disappointed. Brad Pitt has been a cultural fixture for decades - after all this time, people still find him fascinating. And they expect him to date someone who is equally compelling. Clooney married a human rights lawyer - why is Brad dating someone who makes posts like this on Instagram...

This was Lainey Gossip’s take on the new girlfriend: 

A model, younger, it’s so predictable it’s almost boring.

Nice! I guess we’re all feminists until the woman in question is young and hot. 

It's easy to assume the worst of a person who is unknown to us, but is beautiful and hooking up with someone famous. A million mean thoughts spring to mind. “A model, younger”. That’s scorn. You know exactly what she’s saying: hot but dumb. An uninteresting person. We know what Brad really wants her for... 

If Brad Pitt is compelling to you, how compelling must Nicole Poturalski be to have won and held his attention? Brad Pitt has not been celibate in the four years since he separated from Angelina Jolie, but not until Nicole did we have confirmation of someone who he was definitely seeing. He allowed himself to be photographed with her en route to his French chateau. And what ensued was a weird story - she’s in an open relationship with some old German restaurateur and she has a son? She’s a sugar baby? Why would Brad fucking Pitt get publicly involved with someone who has a messy personal life: why hook up with a married 27 year old and weather months of stories about her open marriage if he didn’t actually like her? Why even be seen with her? The relationship is a little weird - but the reporting on it has been nasty. The new sugar baby angle which has emerged in the last week (late October 2020) is basically calling her a whore. This is the level of suspicion and derision directed at a model dating a public fixture like Brad Pitt. The notion that Brad Pitt would pay for female company or sex is patently absurd. 

If our assumptions about models are correct, why do so many models end up with artistic geniuses? I don’t care about the Victoria’s Secret models who hooked up with the bassist from Kings of Leon. I’m talking about beautiful women who made it with icons, the premier humans of the past century:

MUSICIANS

Nick Cave and Susie Bick

David Bowie and Iman

Kanye West and Amber Rose

Bob Dylan and Sara Lownds

Mick Jagger and Jerry Hall

Mick Jagger and Carla Bruni

Serge Gainsbourg and Jane Birkin

Eric Clapton and Pattie Boyd

George Harrison and Pattie Boyd

Madonna and Jesus Luz

MISC. POWERFUL PEOPLE

Salman Rushdie and Padma Lakshmi

Donald Trump and Melania (lol)

Nicolas Sarkozy and Carla Bruni

Evan Spiegel and Miranda Kerr 

Hitler and Eva Braun (What?! She had a brief career an artist’s model...)

Michael Jordan and Yvette Prieto

Rupert Murdoch and Jerry Hall 

ACTORS (perhaps not artistic icons... but still creative and interesting)

Matthew McConaughey and Camila Alves

Johnny Depp and Kate Moss

Bradley Cooper and Irina Shayk

Bradley Cooper and Suki Waterhouse

Robert Pattinson and Suki Waterhouse

Vincent Cassel and Tina Kunakey

Halle Berry and Gabriel Aubrey

Leonardo DiCaprio and half the VS roster

Huge congrats to all the models with more than one entry on the list. You’ll note that there is a dearth of female icon/male model pairings - this is kind of interesting but not something I feel like getting into.

To some extent, the prevalence of the artist and model pairing makes sense. Men like good looking women. Rich, powerful men are high status and have access to good looking women. Plus, an artist needs a muse.

Many of the models in the list above are actually iconic in their own right. Like, when someone is having a great day on RuPaul’s Drag Race and looking sleek and skinny and flawless RuPaul might compare them to Iman. People pay $10,000 USD for handbags named after Jane Birkin. 

Conversely, in the case of Amber Rose, she became the most desired woman in the hip hop industry c. 2010 because she was with Kanye. And most especially because she broke Kanye’s heart. Everyone wanted the girl from “Hell of a Life”. People point to that song as being about Kim - it was prophetic, yes, but not written about her.

Anyway. Could an icon, a legend, a genius, make it work with someone who had nothing to offer but a fast metabolism and a beautiful face? Do poreless skin and puffy lips make up for never finishing high school? 

Wouldn’t being with someone superficial or unserious mean the artist was fundamentally boring in some way too? This is increasingly the assumption about Leonardo DiCaprio - seen above photographing his 23 year old model gf for her Instagram. Even Reddit mocks him for his age gap relationships with models.

And here’s where I try to make my point: 

Kate Moss’ daughter, Lila, recently had her modelling debut during Paris Fashion Week. It was big news because she’s celebrity spawn - and of course her mother is one of the most iconic models ever. She was eviscerated. 

On The Daily Mail, the comparisons to her mother flowed. What’s interesting is that Daily Mail readers do not like Kate Moss but they will defend her 90s modelling career with their life. They laud her bone structure, her waifish figure. An irresistible, undeniable face. 

It seems silly to praise someone for the shape of their head and the way their skin fits over it... it’s not a talent, is it? Maybe it is! There is no shortage of hot girls in the world - but there may be a shortage of girls with preternatural charismatic beauty. Lila Moss (left above) is attractive - she even looks quite a bit like her mum. Perhaps in the pic above she even looks hotter than her mum (right above). But Kate Moss is more interesting: less perfect - half her eyebrow is missing, she’s less manicured. She exudes some kind of darkness, newness. Lottie Moss, Kate’s younger half-sister, is a similar story. Obviously attractive, obviously interested in modelling - but she’s lacking something. 

Bella Hadid came from a similar-ish background to Lila Moss (Bravoleb parents, frequent appearances on Real Housewives of Beverley Hills in her teen years, groomed by her ex-model mother) but Bella Hadid has it. She may have risen through the ranks due to nepotism and cosmetic surgery but she is someone people want to look at. She is sought after - not foisted upon us. Again, it’s not because she’s the hottest woman on the planet. She is gorgeous, but on top of that, there’s something beguiling about the angles of her face.

What’s this thing that clicks in your head telling you that Kate Moss’s face is more interesting than her daughter’s? It’s an intrusive thought: her skull shape is pleasing, let your eyes linger. A command: you will not forget that face. 

Iman has it. Look at her. On meeting Iman, Bowie said: "I was naming the children the night we met... it was absolutely immediate." How many beautiful women had Bowie met in his life? How many had this effect?

Can you imagine trying to keep David Bowie or Bob Dylan interested in what you’re saying? Or Madonna? Or Michael Jordan? Most of us do not have a single thought in our head which would be of interest to these people. The models I listed earlier transfixed them. Mick Jagger could have romanced every woman on the planet - but he only wanted Jerry Hall (pls disregard affairs so I can make my point). 

When a model hooks up with an artistic genius, it’s illogical to assume she’s vapid or that the icon is with her for shallow reasons. What we should assume is that she is the most interesting woman that icon has crossed paths with in a long time - which would make her very interesting indeed.

[badwritingbuttriessometimes]

Names & Places 4

AU: where important people in your life have their name tattooed on your body. Family is on the left side of the chest- close to the heart. Friends are on the right side of the chest- almost family; chosen family. Love interests are on the right wrist

Teaser Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Warnings: swearing and barely edited also mentions of alcohol

And Harrison saw what was on your wrist.

The door closed behind you and you carried on your way to work. Humming along with your earbuds and you walked along the streets and sidewalks. Nice, casual, low-stress.

You greeted your coworkers who were already there and began your shift at the (place)

After you closed your apartment door, Harrison’s eyes widened.

You had Tom’s name on your wrist. Of course! That’s why no one could see it on your ribs at the beach- it moved.

“You okay?” Tom asked, looking concerned. After all, his best friend looked like his brain blew up.

“Yeah yeah I’m...” Harrison trailed off “show me your arm” he asks. Tom flexes, thinking he meant muscle, “no not-“ Harrison grabs Tom’s wrist and inspects it.

“Haz, what’s going on? Yes Y/N is still there can you drop it?” Tom asked, slightly annoyed. “She doesn’t feel the same way, it’s alright. I have a project coming up next month so hopefully that can distract me and erase the name.” He says glumly.

But Harrison couldn’t just let it go. You liked Tom. Tom liked you. But neither one knew about it. What a rom-com Harrison was in. “I’m just gonna run out for a bit, I’ll be back soon- er- eventually!” Harrison says as he hastily walks out the door, just as you did a few minutes earlier.

He paced to (place) and grabbed your wrist as you were cleaning tables.

“HARRISON WHAT THE- WHY? WHAT?” You yelled

“I knew it!” He replied, more to himself than to you

“Knew WHAT?” You demanded

“That you like” he paused for effect, flipping your wrist over to read, “Tom! What?” Tom’s name wasn’t there. How? He wasn’t that far behind you and surely it couldn’t go away that soon, right?

“More than you right now. Can I get back to work now?” You say, silently thanking yourself for bringing your makeup bag to work.

“Uh yea guess I was wrong then.” Harrison says slowly, still confused about where you had Tom’s name. “Before you do, where’s Tom’s name on you?” He asks, hands pointing at his chest then stomach, legs, arms, and neck.

“My chest? We went over this it’s just in “not Haz territory” so you can’t see it.” You say, trying to make it make sense. For both of you. Haz flinches at the mention of the “territory”

“Okay! Okay! I’m going! That’s enough!” He says, wheeling around and walking out. He takes the longer way home, walking past the produce stand and the McDonalds. You three always laughed at the unlikely neighbours.

You watched as he turned for the long route and wiped the small bead of sweat from your brow. That was the quickest thinking you’ve done sunce that day at the beach. Did he know? How?

It doesn’t matter how he knows but he just does now. So you have to hide your wrist whenever you want to be in the general vacinity of your apartment or two closest friends. Fantastic.

“I think that tables clean enough, Y/N.” your coworker laughed. “Y/N? You zoned out again, didn’t you?”

“Yeah. It’s just the names like why do they have to move? It makes everything so much more complicated!” You whine

“Sounds like we need to hit the club tonight.” They said, wiggling their eyebrows at you

“Goooooood idea. Shakers at 10?”

“Meet you there!”

Eventually your shift was done and you headed home, but not before retouching you’re concealer on your wrist. It’s 5pm they’re probably not there but better safe than sorry. You open your apartment door and nothing. No ones there. Home alone. At last. You turn on your speaker and play your “Wasted” playlist. You only played it when you were alone because it was a combination of Disney songs, early 2000’s and 2010 bops, and songs from various musicals. You had four hours to get the look done. Hopping in the shower, you took longer than usual because A+ music and you were alone AND why not shave your legs when you’re going to wear full jeans? After your skin care routine, makeup, and blow drying and styling your hair, you had 2.5 hours left on the clock. Now to tackle the closet. Black jeans- duh. Black belt- duh. Annnd a bodysuit that showed off the girls- why not? Finish the look with black thigh high boots, gotta love consistency. Two hours left and the kitchen was a mess from brunch you were guessing? It was fine before work? You still had a few songs left on your playlist so you jammed out and washed the dishes.

3/4 way through, Tom and Haz came home when “Bend and Snap” from Legally Blonde came on. Unaware of their presence, you kept dancing at 100%. “Look at my...HAZ WHY ARE YOU BACK?!!” The boys were laughing at how perfectly that fit with the music.

“Don’t mind us love, hear that on tik tok?” Haz smirks

“Yes, actually.” you say matter of factly. Too bad Tom’s name is on my wrist you think. The chorus came around and you bend and snapped with the words.

“You going somewhere or do you wear that to wash dishes?” Tom asks, in an attempt to stop your movements

“Yea a couple of us from work are going to Shakers in...” you trun and look at the clock, “ten minutes” you say as you walk towards the fridge and open a smirnoff ice. “Before you say anything, it’s cheap and I need to have some in my system before standing outside for fifteen minutes.” you say, pointing at the two of them but eyeing Haz. He had a strange look on his face and his eyes were looking a bit low.

“Haz! Eyes up here!” you say bringing your hand from your chest to your face. 

“Funny, you said Tom’s name was “under your suit” the other day, did it move?” he asked, implying he knew something. Did he though? He never saw Tom’s name on your wrist, he only saw a blank space on your chest... right?

“Wrong side, Haz.”

“I’m gonna have to see this for myself.” he smirks

“And I’m leaving! Don’t wait up Dee and Dum!” you say, not so subtly escaping the conversation. Damn, twelve minutes till we’re meeting. I could just meet them in the club. Texting the groupchat, you let everyone coming know you’ll meet them inside. 

You: Slight change of plans, I’m in line already

You: See y’all inside!

Alicia: Okok leaving in 5

Beth: So early!

Skylar: Leaving in an hourrrr :)

Only five minutes in line until you had to flash your ID. Once inside, you headed straight to the bar and ordered a tequila sunrise. It was weird being there and not knowing anyone, what do you do? Walking around, trying to find a table for your group seemed like a good idea. With it being this early, most tables were free. Sliding into a booth, you took out your phone and scrolled through instagram. Then snapchat. Then twitter. Halfway through your timeline, someone sat on the other side of the booth.

“Hey Y/N”

You look up, and there’s Tom.

“I think I know where my name is. It’s the same place as yours.”

Taglist:

@tomhollandseverything @lieswithoutfairytales @averyfosterthoughts

[thetomorrowshow]

The Poignancy Of Silence

Part 2!

A/N: This is my entry for @stop-it-anxiety‘s fall fic contest! I had a lot of fun writing this. It’s based off the prompt “Patton’s Song”. There will be a part two--hopefully I can get it out before the contest ends (part 2 will be Roceit y’all).

Words: 5309

Tw: car accident (nothing graphic no one really gets hurt), little bit of blood, light kissing, gambling addiction, lots and lots of tears

Pairing(s): Moceit (yeah, I don’t normally like it. Inspiration struck though, and I really like this story)

-

Kind people who had known Dee as a child would have called him imaginative. Less kind people might have labeled him troubled. Those who were even less so would've said he was a delusional liar.

It didn't really matter to Dee. In more cases than not, those who couldn't hear the music weren't worth his time.

Yes, Dee heard music. As a child, it had been loud, ever-present, as children were almost always happy. Not that 'happy' was quite the correct word for it. Each person had a different song, one that played when (as far as he could tell) that person was experiencing a strong, positive emotion. One he'd observed was love. Sympathy, occasionally. But most frequent was joy.

Dee didn't have a song. He didn't know why, but always suspected that he was just missing out on whatever joy everyone else possessed. He'd never been truly happy. It hurt, deep down. Hurt to know that he'd never get this little portion of personality. He hid it the best he could.

Trying to explain to teachers and guardians why he couldn't pay attention in class did nothing but land him therapist visits, diagnoses, and pills that there was no way he was going to take. By the age of nine, Dee had learned to lie about it. People were scared of the music, he realized. They didn't want anyone to hear it.

So, the next time his foster brother burst through the front door waving his report card, a huge smile on his face and accompanied by the cheery ukulele strumming that was his music, Dee just smiled as well and said nothing.

A new family stopped making him see the doctors and take the drugs, but somehow got the memo that he was a liar. It hurt to hear from the people he desperately wanted to be loved by, especially since most families didn't want him, mainly due to his birth disfigurement. He tried to laugh it off, though. His face made for wonderful Halloween opportunities.

As Dee grew older, he started listening to music of his own. Earbuds playing light mood music or The Beatles or quiet indie songs, a playlist perfectly crafted to allow him to focus. It covered up the discordant mash of instruments that was high school.

One weekend, he locked himself in his stuffy room on the upper floor of his foster family's house, intent on staying there until Monday, when he discovered that his earbuds were broken. He didn't dare go in search of a new pair and put himself in the middle of whatever his guardians were arguing about this time, so just cracked his window for some fresh air and hoped no one was near enough for their song to hit his ears. Unfortunately, it wasn't meant to be. A tune drifted up, and, before he shut the window, he tilted his head, listening to someone's joy.

It was a jaunty piano tune, plunked out jovially, like whoever it was coming from hadn't a care in the world. It was . . . pretty, he decided. Very sweet and easy. So, for that one time, he left the window open.

-

Every day after school Dee dashed up to his bedroom and cracked his window, tearing out his earbuds recklessly. Every day, that music wafted up to his room and he smiled, the day finally made good.

One day, he popped his head over the sill and glimpsed a grinning teenager, sprawled out on the trampoline in the neighbor's backyard. He immediately ducked down, afraid of being seen. The boy was—there was no other word for it—adorable. Like a puppy, happy at existence.

Dee started to keep an eye out for him. Paused his music when walking past him on the way to school, or when walking past the neighbor's house. Blushed when he saw the boy's smile at the grocery store, working as a cashier.

He wasn't attracted to the dark-haired, liberally freckled, bespectacled boy. He just wanted to know. What about him made his music so carefree?

-

Dee taught himself to how to play piano when he was fifteen, sneaking into the jazz band closet during lunch and plunking out notes on the keyboard. He said to himself that knowing how to play piano was a good skill to have, and it would get him girls, and maybe he could take it to a career if he got good enough.

Saying that didn't change the fact that the first thing he learned was the boy's song.

-

Years haunted by that cheerful music (which, for some reason, he never got sick of) passed. Dee moved away, got an apartment of his own, yet he still heard it.

The university he attended was unsurprisingly lacking in music. It came in short bursts here and there, but maybe it was more plentiful in the dorms. That didn't change the fact that every morning, on the walk to whatever building of the school he needed, He heard the neighbor boy's music. It was brief, always drifting from the same busy intersection, like it was coming from one of the waiting vehicles while Dee crossed the road.

The tune being so close and so far at once drove Dee mad. He stopped listening for it—he needed to move on. His playlist had been specifically designed to block out music. He started wearing his earbuds everywhere again.

One morning he was running particularly late. He ran out of the apartment building and dashed down his route to campus. His backpack bounced and jostled, his breath came in gasps, his eyes were fixed on his pounding feet, but he didn't hear any of it. Just George Harrison singing sweetly in his ear. Which was probably why he didn't notice that the light was green as he burst out of the tree line and ran  into the busy intersection.

He didn't hear the honking, or the tires screeching, or the shouts.

-

His eyes blinked open, then instantly squeezed shut as they were met with a blinding light. He felt sick and dizzy and his head ached. A shadow passed over his eyelids, and he realized he was lying on something hard and almost sharp.

“I don't think he's waking up!”

Dee groaned and let his eyes flicker open again. A helmeted head turned away from him blocked the sun. Then the person turned back, a phone to his ear, freckled face creased with worry. Even years later, Dee recognized him. Even without the glasses, and with blood welling up from a deep-looking cut on his cheek.

The boy. Or, the man.

“It's you,” he said before he could stop himself. The boy man's face relaxed, and he spoke into the phone again.

“Never mind, he woke up! When will the ambulance be here?” A pause, then he nodded and covered the receiver. “Don't worry,” he whispered with a conspiratorial wink. “I have financial aid.”

And that was how Dee formally met Patton Esperanza. Sprawled out on a busy road, bleeding from a head injury, the man's motorcycle lying just in his peripheral.

And he was head-over-heels in love.

-

Their first date was in the hospital cafe, both with their wounds treated. Dee had noticed the pride pin on Patton Esperanza's collar. He shared that he was pansexual himself, and Patton Esperanza, with that adorable little smile of his that scrunched up his eyes and put a dimple in his right cheek, had said, “So I guess this is a date, then. Or a gay-te.”

And that music had played, that cheerful, down-to-earth tune that Dee could associate with a shining face and a small gap between teeth and a sea of freckles.

“I—I guess,” he'd stuttered.

And Patton Esperanza had laughed a small laugh, and Dee found himself blushing as Patton Esperanza suggested a second date soon.

-

Their second date was at a small, locally-owned buffet. Dee found himself laughing an easy laugh as Patton Esperanza mimicked a walrus, chopsticks stuffed in his cheeks. Even over the five separate tunes playing from other customers, he could hear Patton's song.

He found out that Patton Esperanza was in veterinary school, across the campus from the law division of the school, where Dee spent most of his time. He could imagine Patton greeting the dogs and cats with a huge goofy grin, and realized that he would be a perfect veterinarian.

He felt his face grow warm when Patton nudged his shoulder, sputtered a bit when Patton stole the vegetable sushi from his plate, grinned stupidly when Patton cooed and waved at the baby in the booth across the aisle.

As he'd noticed years previously, Patton Esperanza was the happiest person alive. With him, Dee thought that maybe—just maybe—he could be just as happy.

-

It was the fifth date when Patton Esperanza kissed him. A quick peck on the lips at the local Museum of Modern Art (Dee's choice, it was mentally quieter than the places Patton liked to visit), followed immediately by a scared look.

“Was that too much?” Patton asked quickly, those bright hazel eyes brimming with worry. Dee realized he hadn't moved, just stood frozen while he tried to process.

“N-no, it was fine!” He shook his head, trying to clear it, thinking only of how brief the moment had been and how weird kissing was, but in a nice, soft way. “It was good,” he amended, and slowly, cautiously, slipped his hand into Patton's. The man's face lit up, the worry washing away.

They wandered the halls all afternoon, hands laced together between them, giggling at nonsensical art and standing somberly before pieces that hit too close to home.

“My parents split up when I was eleven,” Patton admitted at some point. His music had quieted. “I've got two little brothers. My parents both knew that they wanted my brothers, and argued over them, but. . . .” he sighed. “Neither of them really wanted me. I ended up with my mom and one brother. It was clear that she only really loved my brother.” He saw Dee's sympathy and smiled sadly. “It's okay, though. Just because I love them doesn't mean they have to love me.”

-

“My parents didn't want me, either,” Dee said over a cup of coffee, at the cafe across the street from the museum. He laughed, the sound more bitter than his drink. “Failed abortion. You'd think maybe they'd have a change of heart, and keep me, but no. Took one look at my face and screamed, I guess.”

Patton reached over and lightly ran a hand down the bumps and ridges that defined the scaly deformity that disfigured the left side of his face. “I like it,” he said quietly. “Even if no one else does. It just means no one will be trying to take you away from me.”

This time, though Patton again initiated the kiss, Dee didn't freeze. He passionately responded.

-

They shared a home now. Dee's home, actually.

Which meant they shared a kitchen.

Which naturally meant they should bake cookies together.

Poof!

A cloud of flour erupted in Dee's face. He coughed and sputtered and heard Patton's voice from somewhere through the cloud. “Oops. Sorry!” The little giggle that followed denoted any sincerity.

“Oh, it is on,” Dee grinned. He spotted the canister of sugar on a counter and, quick as a flash, grabbed a handful and launched it in Patton's direction.

“Ow! No fair!” laughed Patton. Dee recoiled with a bark of laughter as a plastic measuring cup narrowly missed his nose.

The kitchen exploded into an all-out war of ingredients (or anything else at hand), the recipe book on the table forgotten.

When it was all over, and the dust had literally settled, Patton and Dee stood in the middle of the kitchen, crying tears of laughter and holding each other like it was the end of the world. They were both covered in fine white powder; every movement brought another puff of flour. The afternoon sun filtered through a window, catching the particles in the air and surrounding them with a galaxy of little star-like specks.

“I love you,” Patton whispered. Dee heard his cheery music, which had been a background noise, rise to almost deafening.

“I love you.”

-

“I hear music.”

“What?”

Dee wasn't quite sure why he was saying it. Everyone he'd told about it had called him a liar, delusional. Somehow, though, he felt like Patton was different. He steeled himself.

“I, uh. I hear music.”

“Right now?” Patton smiled, and yes, Dee did hear his music right then.

“Uh, yeah, actually.”

Patton paused the movie. They were curled up on the couch in their living room on a Sunday afternoon, cuddled in the warmth of blankets and each other, the first snow of the season falling outside.

“It's stupid, never mind.”

“Dee, you can tell me anything.”

One look at those eyes, honest, accepting, loving, gave him the courage he needed.

“Well . . . I hear music,” he repeated. So few words, yet so hard to say. “Like, for me, everyone has their own tune that plays when they're joyful—or, whatever.”

He tensed and looked away, waiting to be called a liar, or silly, or be laughed at. Instead, the music grew louder.

“That's awesome.”

Dee looked back; Patton's face was shining with excitement. He chuckled a bit. “Uh, yeah. It's actually pretty loud.”

Patton didn't seem to hear. He bounced off the couch and to the keyboard in the corner of the room. “You play, right? Can you play me somebody's?”

“Of course, mon amour,” Dee said, trying to mask his apprehension with a silky tone. Patton blushed, then pulled back the chair. Dee sat, letting his nerves roll off in waves. He stretched his fingers, took one last glance at his love, then closed his eyes.

He knew what he was going to play. He'd memorized it years ago. Anytime he sat before a piano,  it pulled at his hands and pushed at his head.

His hands found the correct keys. He waited a few seconds for the music in his ears to loop around to the beginning, then let it flow from his fingertips. He missed a note or two, but it was fine. The rest of it, the jaunty, plunking tune, sounded beautiful.

When he wrapped it up, he opened his eyes to see Patton's shining with wonder.

“Is that yours?”

Dee barely heard the whisper over how loud the song was. He cringed inwardly, not wanting to wake the hurt deep inside at not having a song of his own. He grinned up at Patton.

“No. It's yours.”

-

“Where are you?”

“I got held up. Dr. Green wanted to talk with me about getting an internship.”

“Where?”

“Thompson and Edelman.”

“That's far away.”

“Yeah. I don't think I'm going to take it.”

Silence. “So where are you right now?”

“Stuck in traffic. It's Friday, you know. Rush hour's pretty bad.”

“Yeah.” A sigh. “I don't know. This is the third date night in a row you've missed. Maybe we should stop trying.”

Now he felt guilty. In truth, the internship discussion hadn't been what made him late. He'd hung around the dorms, playing poker with some other law students.

“Maybe we can do something tomorrow?”

“I've got to be at the clinic.”

“Right. Movie on Sunday?”

“. . . Yeah.”

“Great. You want me to pick something up to eat on my way home?”

“No, no. I made dinner. I'll just reheat it for you.”

“Okay. I love you.”

“Love you.”

-

Patton's spoon clattered as it fell back in his bowl. His jaw hung open. Dee could hear the first few notes of a very recognizable tune.

Dee laughed. “It's true. I've never built a snowman.”

A huge grin unfurled across Patton's face. “Let's go! Right now. I think it's wet enough.”

“Are six inches enough to build a snowman?”

“Any amount of snow is enough if you try hard!”

So they built a snowman. Dee's coat was warm, but he didn't have any gloves, and wore yellow rubber dish gloves instead. When he waggled his fingers, Patton just laughed. “Now I know what to get you for Christmas!”

The snowman didn't go so well. Grass stuck to it and the construction was lopsided and Dee was fairly certain that the head was the same size as the bottom part, but Patton smiled happily and ran inside the apartment building. He emerged with a carrot, likely borrowed from one of the grinning neighbors that watched through the windows. He stuck it proudly in the middle of its face; Dee wrapped his only scarf around it.

Patton declared it the best snowman ever.

-

He did get gloves for Christmas. They were a ghastly yellow (likely in memory of the dish gloves), but they were soft, and one look at Patton's sparkling eyes told him he was going to wear them every day.

-

“I'm truly touched that you didn't like my birthday gift.”

“I told you I didn't want anything! I would've loved to just spend the day with you.”

“Well, I'm sorry that I didn't understand your stupid hints. Maybe I shouldn't have spent a week trying to pick something!”

“If you'd listened to me, you wouldn't have had to! You would've known what I wanted!”

“Obviously I'm not wanted, I'll be back tonight. Return the gift, I don't give a—”

“—Don't go play poker, you know I hate it when you gamble!”

“Don't tell me what to do.”

“That's not the person I fell in love with!”

“What, you thought I was a submissive puppy?! I have goals and a life, you know! I can't spend every minute listening to you! I'm not here just to make you happy!”

“And I'm not here to have a boyfriend who ignores me and lies to avoid spending time with me!”

“I said I was sorry!”

“Maybe I don't know if it was a sincere apology!”

“Maybe you should get a new boyfriend!”

“. . . You—you don't mean that.”

Slam.

-

“Name?”

Dee cleared his throat. “Uh, I'm just here to deliver these flowers to Dr. Esperanza.”

The man at the desk's face lit up. “Aw, that's cute! I'll let him know.”

Dee turned to leave, but a door opening behind him gave him pause. Was Patton coming into the waiting room?

No. The man had glasses, but his hair was a lighter shade of brown and his eyes were grey, and he had a more professional look—a necktie over a white button-up, covered by a lab coat. A low, methodical tune followed him.

“The Foster dog needs flea treatment,” the man said to the secretary without preamble, then noticed Dee. “Ah. Are you a patient with us?”

Dee shook his head. Then gestured at the flowers, then pointed at the door the man had exited from. His throat felt too dry too speak for some reason. The man followed his gestures, then his gaze landed on the deformed side of Dee's visage. Dee felt his face burn as he saw the distaste take over the man's—Dr. Logan Cato, his badge read—face. Dr. Cato's music trundled to a stop.

The doctor took him by the arm out the front door, nails biting into Dee's skin. As soon as the door closed, he spoke.

“If Patton ever comes into work crying again,” Dr. Cato said, his voice a low threat, “you'll have me to answer to. You're going to have to do better than some cheap flowers.”

Dee nodded and tried to pull away, but the man wasn't done. “Anyone would be lucky to have him,” the veterinarian said. “You need to recognize just how much you mean to him.”

That annoyed Dee. As Dr. Cato released him and walked back inside, Dee went over his words again. How much he meant to Patton? What about how much Patton meant to him? He'd skipped class and driven across town to the vet that Patton interned at just to apologize! Sure, maybe he was too much of a coward to say sorry in person, but he'd googled about which flowers meant what and composed a poem.

Patton was his life. He wouldn't let a stupid mistake push him away.

-

“Did you skip class to get me the flowers?”

“Yes.”

“Dee, you can't—”

“Sweetheart, I wanted to.”

“But your future!”

“I don't want a future without you.”

-

“Where were you?”

Dee froze halfway in the door. “Tutoring,” he lied. Patton hated when he gambled. Speaking of Patton, the man stood before him now, his face stony, arms crossed.

“We were supposed to spend the evening together.”

In all honesty, a part of Dee had remembered. They'd been planning a trip to a busy restaurant. He knew Patton wanted to, but he shuddered at the thought of such a crowded place, so many people with so much music.

“I'm sorry, he apologized automatically. “Three students needed help, and I was the only person there to tutor—”

“I got the evening off work just to spend with you.”

Dee felt a spark of anger in his chest. “What about me?” he asked belligerently. “What if I'd come home and wanted to be alone?”

“Well, I—”

“I can't drop everything I'm doing just because you want me to!” Dee ranted, really getting heated now. “I care about you, but I have a life too! I have things that I want to do, too!”

Patton's brow furrowed. “Were you . . . were you out gambling again?”

Dee felt his face heat up. “So what if I was? What's wrong with that?”

“Dee, there's so much wrong with it, but. . . .” Patton looked away. When he turned back, his earnest face was crumpling, his eyes full. “Today? Of all days?” he choked out.

Oh no. Oh no no no no no. His anger vanished quick as it had come, replaced by a cold fear. Today? What was today?

The 24th. The 24th of April. The same date that, a year ago, Patton had agreed to be his boyfriend.

Their anniversary.

“Oh no,” he breathed. His mind flew: did he get a gift? Was his gift going to be spending time together? And if so, did he just ruin their anniversary—and relationship—by being a selfish idiot?

Before he could say anything, a body pushed past him; the door swung closed.

“No—Pat, wait—!”

He threw himself out the door, but Patton was already gone. The thudding of running feet echoed from the stairwell.

“Pat, please!” Dee called out, heedless of those trying to sleep in surrounding apartments. He flew down the stairs, coming to a stop on the ground level just as the building door slammed shut.

A woman and her toddler watched on sympathetically as Dee dropped to his knees and sobbed. He hadn't thought that the night before would be the last night   he'd get to hold his true love.

He hadn't thought that he'd be the one to drive his true love away.

-

“One more chance.”

“One more chance.”

Dee pulled Patton into a kiss, relaxing when his boyfriend (somewhat reluctantly) returned the affection.

“How about I take off work tomorrow? You don't work till 3, so we can pull an all-nighter tonight.”

Patton nodded, a small smile gracing his tear-stained face. “It's been a while since we did one of those.”

“I still haven't seen that Christopher Robin movie.”

Later, they were curled up on the floor, surrounded by blankets and pillows and popcorn, a plate  of pizza rolls between them, the movie playing on the screen before them. Dee tapped Patton on the shoulder; the man looked up sleepily.

“I made this for you,” he whispered, and dropped something into his hand.

Patton's eyes widened at the bracelet. Beads spelling his name were laced into a complicated braid (Dee had learned to braid years previous, having been forced by a foster sister, then realized he found it calming and kept it up). Different shades of blue and grey crisscrossed beautifully and intricately.

“I'll wear it forever,” breathed Patton. “How did you make it?”

Dee shrugged awkwardly, a hand on the back of his neck. “It wasn't too hard. Just a braid.”

“I love it.”

Dee smiled, relieved. “I love you, you know?”

Finally, he heard that soft, plunking music.

“Yeah. I love you.”

-

It was late—or, early, maybe? That was okay, though. He'd let Patton know in advance that he'd be late. He'd made something up about a study group and dinner afterward. Patton had seemed okay with it.

However, it was now clear that his boyfriend had made plans of his own. He could hear Pat through the walls—chatting with the couple two doors down. He couldn't hear his song, though.

Instead of going straight to bed, he flopped out on the couch and turned something on—probably music. Music made for a good white noise for him, something to have to relax against.

It was perhaps a sign of his growing drowsiness that he didn't hear when the door opened.

“Oh.”

The word was cold and removed, and Dee sat up and stretched, blinking blearily at the figure in the doorway.

“Pat?” He took in his boyfriend's red nose and eyes, his stiff posture, the tight line that was his mouth. “What's wrong?”

“She tagged you.”

“What?”

Patton pointed at an open laptop on the counter, which Dee hadn't previously noticed. He stumbled up and over to it, his fingers dancing across the mousepad as the screen woke up.

It was open to a video on a social media site, and before it even started, Dee felt his heart sink.

He saw himself, hissing on a pair of dice and tossing them out onto an unseen table. Saw himself raise his arms in a gesture of triumph, mouthing “Snake eyes!” amidst silent cheering from the group crowding around him. Saw a girl (he didn't even know her name, some freshman who was already failing) pull him by his collar until their mouths collided. Saw his own eyebrows raise. Saw a student whistle, another letting out a noiseless catcall.

The clip moved on to a different moment before he could watch himself push the girl away with a nervous laugh. Check the time. Make up some excuse about leaving. Bite his lip anxiously, hoping that Patton would never find out.

He looked up wordlessly, trying to find something more meaningful than I'm sorry (words that should mean so much, but went hollow after too many lies). A tear slipped from Patton's eye, dying a spot on his light blue t-shirt black.

“I thought you'd died,” he spat. “There was an accident on 150. The car looked like yours. I kept calling, and you didn't pick up.”

“Pat—”

“I don't want to hear it!” Patton shouted, anger spilling over. “You promised you would stop gambling, you promised to not lie, and on April 24th, over a year ago, you promised to love me!”

“Pat!” But he couldn't be stopped.

“Everything is lies! Every day, I'm asking myself if you're really planning on coming home that night!” Tears ran fiercely down both of their faces. Dee stood, reached for Patton's shoulder, who jumped back as if burned.

“Don't touch me!” he hissed. “You're full of lies, and—and—” his voice raised— “Now I know why your parents named you Deceit!”

Dee physically recoiled. They never talked about his birth name. Ever. Patton had promised to never bring it up—not in an argument, not in a loving way, never. It hurt too much. He looked , expecting an apology. None came. Patton glared at him. Dee broke eye contact immediately, feeling the freezing pain of hearing his name mixed the crippling pain of his lover's hateful gaze. As soon as he turned away, a choked sob met his ears, and a body pushed past him.

Not for the first time, Patton ran away from the apartment. Not for the first time, Dee stood in shock, and briefly wondered what the neighbors must think.

Not for the first time, Dee fell to his knees, certain that this was the last time, that his true love was never coming back.

-

Dee was there when Patton returned—or, rather, there again. Dee had wandered the streets in the windy night until the edges of the sky started to turn purple, then orange. Then he'd wearily trod back to the complex to see if Patton had returned of his own accord. The man hadn't, but hardly ten minutes passed before the door was quietly pushed open and Patton stumbled in, stepped around Dee—who was silently crying in a heap on the floor—and went into the bedroom. The lock clicked behind him.

Now, Dee dashed away his tears. The sun was almost fully visible. On a weekday, they would be up at this time, preparing breakfast and showering and packing their bags for class.

Dee wasn't all that great at cooking, but scrambled eggs were decently simple, so he cracked some eggs in a pan and turned on the stove.

At some point, a glimmer of hope had sprung up in his stomach. Maybe . . . if he changed . . . if he reminded Pat of all the good times. . . .

He shook himself. He isn't happy with you, he told himself. It's hurting him to be with you.

Still, though. Maybe . . . maybe if he devoted his life to him . . . maybe . . . maybe Patton could love him again. . . .

“Dee?”

Dee dropped the spatula with a jump; he looked up to see Patton in the doorway. The man was in the same clothes as the night before, hair rumpled and eyes heavy with sleep.

He looked away as quickly as possible, stirring the eggs with vigor he didn't possess.

“Dee?”

“I'm making eggs,” Dee rambled. “You know I'm not that good at cooking, but I wanted something to do, and you were going to need to eat, and I couldn't sleep, so—”

“Dee.”

He met Patton's eyes. They were quiet, dull without the normal sparks of love and life. “Yes?”

“We tried, you know?”

And there it was. Tears pricked at the back of his eyes as Dee dropped the spatula again, letting his arms fall uselessly to his sides.

“We tried,” Patton continued, voice somehow emotionless yet overflowing with all the feelings neither of them could confess. “And we had some really good times. But people change—like clothes shrinking in the wash. One day, it's your favorite shirt, and it fits perfectly and you feel happy. The next, it's too small. Doesn't fit. It'll never fit again. And you're sad—you've just lost something that made you feel really good.”

“Pat, please—”

“I-I care about you, Dee. But this is hurting both of us. We—we just don't fit anymore.”

And now Patton was crying, now they both were, shaking and sobbing and feeling their life crash down around them. I'm sorry, Dee wanted to say. I'll change. Please. Please don't leave me. Instead, he wrapped his arms around Patton as the man flung himself at his chest. The eggs forgotten, they stood in the middle of the kitchen, crying tears of sadness and frustration and everything else and holding each other like it was the end of the world. The morning sun filtered in through the window, shining a spotlight on the two broken men.

“I love you,” Dee whispered. Patton said nothing, just hugged him closer. And Dee heard the sharpness, the poignancy, the depths of emptiness wrapped in one melody.

Silence.

[probably-writing-x]

Further (5)

"I shouldn't have reacted how I did," Tom admits, sitting back down onto the couch as you do the same.

"No, I think you're well within your right to react how you did. I just think you said some things that you shouldn't have done," You nod and its like he's watching your every movement in fear he'd upset you again, "But I don't blame you for being pissed. I just think you have a few apologies to give Haz,"

"I'll get round to that," He promises, "I jus-"

"I get it T. You just found out, out of nowhere, that me and your best friend like each other. And, before you question it, no we're not together, no we haven't slept together, we haven't even kissed," You confirm, "We just know how we feel,"

"You really like him huh?" Tom raises his brows.

You shrug, "I think that's pretty apparent,"

"And he likes you too?"

"I guess he does," You smile a little.

"I really want to accept this and be okay with it but-" He takes a deep breath, "It's going to be hard, y'know?"

You nod, squeezing his arm, "I know. Take as long as you need. The last thing I want, and H too, is to make you feel uncomfortable or pissed or whatever,"

He clenches his jaw a little like he's trying to stop himself from being emotional as you get up to walk away, "Where are you going?"

"Just upstairs," You comment, "I think I should speak to Harry and Sam about everything too,"

Tom nods understandingly and lets you leave, running through a thousand confirmations he wishes he could've said but not yet finding it in him to accept what he'd learnt only one night before.

When they got home last night, Tom had made mental note of the fact that Harrison had texted you as soon as his feet stepped inside. It was nothing major but he knew it was something he had to pick up on. He'd do the same for someone he really cared about...

~~~~~

Your younger brothers had evidently been much more understanding of everything. They, quote, 'knew Harrison wasn't that much of a div to do anything bad'. And it gave you a little relief that at least there was only one sibling to worry about.

"Am I allowed in?" Harrison knocks at your door, "Or has Tom booby trapped it?"

You chuckle and turn around as you plug your phone to charge, "I think you're safe,"

"Well, last night was rough," He comments, "Must've been the cooking. I heard Dom had someone helping him in the kitchen and she fucked it all up,"

You roll your eyes, "Is that true, yeah?"

Harrison hums in agreeance, "She really messed it up,"

"Are you sure about that?" You walk towards him, "I think we both made a few mistakes,"

"Come on, we'll figure it out," He encourages, reaching his foot out to lightly tap your leg, "I don't like seeing you sad,"

"Can you blame me H?" You sigh, "You heard Tom,"

"Hey," He reaches his hand out and squeezes your hand, "We'll figure it out, alright?"

You take a deep breath and can't find it in you to respond.

"Believe me! Turn that frown upside down!" He exclaims, coming toward you and spinning you around so your back is against his chest as he lifts you up.

"Harrison!" You squeal, finding yourself laughing despite everything telling you not to.

He spins you around, "I'm not putting you down until yo-"

Instantly, his words fall flat as the two of you are now facing towards your open bedroom door. An open door that gave a very unneeded view of Tom who'd stopped in his tracks when he recognised the commotion.

Harrison lowers you cautiously to the ground but his hands don't move from yours, like he feared what Tom's next steps would be.

"Don't mind me," Tom states simply, clenching his jaw as he speaks.

His eyes snap away from the two of you quickly as he makes a direct route towards his bedroom.

"Tom I-" You go to pull away from Haz but he tugs you back.

"I'll go," He comments, though you could instantly hear the uncertainty and fear behind those two words.

He confirms his decision with a nod towards you and his hand squeezing yours once more before he follows in the footsteps of your brother.

Oh boy, you wished you could have your conversation-hearing powers yet again... And somehow it always happened to be about conversations Harrison was having with your family.

~~~~~

"Hey man, can we talk?" Harrison starts awkwardly, not remembering a time where he felt so uncomfortable about speaking to Tom.

"Yeah, you don't have to explain yourself, I know you guys-"

"I didn't mean about that," Harrison cuts in, gesturing in the rough direction of your bedroom, "Well, I meant about everything really,"

Tom glances up from his desk and sits down in the chair, watching as Harrison walks cautiously over to sit on the edge of the bed.

"Look, I don't know how to say this to you man, I really dont," Harrison begins, dragging his hands through his hair, "I-"

"When did you realise?" Tom questions coldly.

Harrison looks up, a little taken aback, before answering, "Uh, well it's difficult really. I kind of think of it as this one morning and she came downstairs and her hair was everywhere and she was yawning and she was wearing pyjamas that I'm pretty sure she's had for about ten years and-" He stops himself, "You know that feeling you get when you see someone you're about to go on a date with, and they're all dressed up and everything and they've made sure they're looking their best?"

Tom nods in understanding.

"I got that exact feeling. But she was there and she was in all ways this person that she'd hate the sight of. And she came over to me, wrapped her arms around me and asked me if I'd slept well. I'm pretty sure she was still half asleep and she just stayed there," Harrison's gone completely off course by now and it takes him a second to snap back, "Shit, sorry, I didn't mean to-"

"No, you can't apologise if that's how you feel," Tom shakes his head, "It's not your fault I guess,"

"Yeah but this is (Y/n) that we're talking about, man," Harrison shrugs, "She's your sister,"

Tom's jaw clenches quickly, "I know,"

"And I know she's the one person you'd never want me to-" He stops himself again, "But I really fucking tried Tom. I made a fucking list of reasons why I shouldn't be with her an-"

"What was on that list?"

Harrison looks up and takes a deep breath, "She's a Holland,"

Tom can't help but laugh a little, "For fuck's sake man,"

Harrison finds himself laughing lightly too and, for a second, they're brothers again.

"Look, I'm not agreeing with all of this. I mean, fuck, you're still my best friend and she's still my sister. But that doesn't change the fact that I can't control how you feel," Tom speaks slowly, conscious of his words more so than last night, "I'm sorry for what I said last night. But this might just take me some time to wrap my head around, okay?"

"Yeah yeah I totally get that, dude," Harrison nods a little too eagerly, "And we'll give you as much time as you need and we-"

"So it's 'we' now, huh?" Tom cuts in once again, his jaw clenching for the umpteenth time.

Haz looks down and can't help the blush from invading his cheeks, "I really fucking like her Tom,"

For a second, Tom can't help the anger that seeps into his main emotion. Because, god damn, this was Harrison talking about (Y/n) and he hated the thought of them two seeing each other as anything more than friends. But, quicker than he'd expected, that feeling dissipates and he's suddenly pretty proud of both of them. For finding someone half decent at least. Even if it was his best friend and his not-so-little sister.

They stay there for a little while longer and it only takes a few minutes before they're back to their normal ways as Tom starts showing stupid videos to Haz and Harrison starts playing newly released music to him. And for that while longer, relationships mean fucking nothing.

~~~~~

Tom's been caught in his feelings all day after that. Sure, he could act like he was half-okay around Harrison but there was still an uncertainty about everything that stopped him from being himself.

"Woah, fucking hell guys the PDA is a bit weird!" Harry's voice snaps him from his daze as he hears his brother walking past Harrison's room.

Tom glances up as Harry is now stood in his doorway.

"Come choose which pizzas to order," Harry encourages. Sure, he already knew what his brother would choose but that didn't have to matter. Harry needed to know that his big brother was okay and this seemed like the best way of doing exactly that.

Tom sighs and gets up from his chair, following after Harry with Sam already waiting at the stairs.

As he walks past the open door to Harrison's room, he's too curious to not look.

He's met with a sickly sweet sight. Haz's arms are wrapped around (Y/n) and they're dancing along to one of her new songs - being the singer of an acting family.

"I'm telling you, it's a banger," Harrison encourages, "Stop telling me it's not,"

(Y/n) laughs as Haz spins her out of his arms, "You're kind of obliged to say that,"

"Oh no, I'd tell you if it was shit," He confirms, "Like some of those trash ones you used to make when we were in school. What was it? He's cold when I'm hot, I'd give up my jacket for him?" Harrison bursts out laughing as he quotes one of her very old songs from childhood.

"You're going to hell," She shrugs, trying to fight back her own urges to laugh.

"I'm pretty sure they play that song down there," Harrison jokes once more, trying to fight her off as she viciously tries to tickle him.

Yet again, Tom sees it. The way they fit. He sees it all. He sees it in Harrison's eyes that crease with his laughter, a full on laugh that (Y/n) seemed to bring out in him. He sees it in his sister's smile, her confidence to play her most vulnerable songs and still manage to not falter in her certainty. All because of him. These little moments had always been happening. But Tom was only just seeing them now.

And Tom walks away. Feeling even more guilty that he still just couldn't accept it.

~~~~~

"So, how are you guys taking things?" Tom asks as he takes a seat down at the kitchen island.

Harry looks up surprised as he takes a quick glance to his twin.

"I'm alright with it man, they seem happy," Sam encourages, "And they're both old enough,"

"Yeah I mean it's fucking weird to think of them as a couple but they seem pretty certain about how they feel," Harry backs him up, "What about you, man?"

"I don't know I just think its different for you guys. Like she's your older sister so it's not the same," Tom shrugs, "That's my little sister and my best friend,"

"Look, nobody's saying you're not allowed to feel weird about it," Sam points out, "But you saw how much shit they were putting themselves through before. You know you don't want that to happen again. You don't want either of them to get hurt,"

"No, god I don't want that," Tom shakes his head, "I'm good, honestly. I'm fine,"

Before his brothers can say anything more, there's a ring at the doorbell to signal that the pizza is arriving and they're soon joined by the final two residents of the house - Haz and you.

"Evening," You nod, "Please tell me you ordered margarita,"

"Why? Why every single time do you want a margarita?" Harrison shakes his head, following you down the stairs and toward the boys.

"Because she's a weirdo," Harry laughs, squealing as you jab him in the ribs.

"It's not as bad as her thinking strawberry ice cream is actually good," Tom taunts, "Do you remember that H?"

Harrison laughs as they both reminisce about a specific unspoken memory and, again, things feel normal. For once, you're happy to have them poking fun at you.

"Alright, come on, pizza time," Sam calls opening the boxes out in front of you for you all to take as you please.

Harrison starts taking the slices he wanted and happens to take the largest slice of margarita. You pout a little beside him but go on to take whichever looked like the next best.

"Wait wait wait," He shakes his head, holding up the queuing line of boys behind you, "This slice is bigger," and with that, he swaps yours and his slice before continuing on with the rest of his food.

Tom glances back at his brothers and cocks a brow. Part of him wanted to find a cocky, irritable remark that would dull the cuteness of such a simple gesture. But he couldn't. Harrison was ticking all the boxes of a goddamn perfect guy for you and Tom simply fucking hated it.

~~~~~

"Alright, I think I'm going to head up guys," You sigh, getting up from the sofa and stretching.

"You're not even watching the end of the film?" Harry frowns, "We need to know what happens with-"

"I don't think any of us know what's actually happening in this film," Sam laughs, "Night (Y/n),"

You say goodnight to all of them before going to make your way upstairs, Harrison's eyes lingering on you for a little.

"I'll uh, I'll be back in a minute," He stumbles over his words a little, standing up and instinctively flicking his eyes towards Tom like he was asking for approval to even speak to you.

"Go on man," Tom encourages.

Haz nods in understanding and goes to follow in your direction.

"Hey," Tom stops him quickly, "You, uh, it seems like you're good for her,"

Harrison's lips curl into a bold smile at that which he tries to hide, "Thanks man,"

As he walks away, the twins turn to Tom with wide eyes and gaping mouths.

"What?" Tom questions nonchalantly, trying to brush off the moment as quickly as possible.

~~~~~

Harrison follows you toward your bedroom as you're just closing the curtains across the floor length windows that adorned one of your walls.

"Hey," He begins cautiously, stepping into the dark shadow of your room.

"Hello," You respond, hands falling from the curtains, "What are yo-"

Before you can say anything more, Harrison's arms wrap around your waist from behind and his chin perches against your shoulder, "You look really beautiful in this light,"

"What? Where you can barely see me?" You joke, shifting in his arms so you can see him.

"Come on, I'm trying to be romantic," He rolls his eyes, hands settling on either side of your hips.

You chuckle and flash him that cute little smile that made him realise it was truly possible for stomach butterflies to take flight. Your head is illuminated by the cool moonlight behind you and it's creating this halo glow around your messy hair that he's sure couldn't be more perfect if you tried. It's too dark to see the brightness of your eyes and you've got a little pizza sauce stain across the top you wore - one that likely didn't belong to you. Your fuzzy socks are tickling at his toes and this is slowly becoming a less and less romantic moment. But nonetheless, you're there. And that makes it enough for him.

"Haz!" You laugh, "What are you so focused on?"

He swallows the lump in his throat but still can't find any words to fit as he cautiously brings his hand up to your jaw.

It is then that his midnight intentions become midday bright. Your eyes focus on nothing but the lips that were slowly giving in to the attraction that yours had on them. And, in a slow second, they're on yours. They're locked together in a much awaited, anticipated, expected kiss.

It's fearful at first, almost awkward. Because, damn, this felt so incorrect. But then you're both melting as though this moonlight reflection had the power to burn both of you. You're falling into each other and you don't mind the fear of not being brought back up.

You knew the comfort of the kiss wouldn't go any further. Harrison's hands would remain fixed - one to your hip and one cupping your jaw. You knew yours wouldn't dare move from settlement on his chest. But it didn't need to go any further. Because you were finally kissing him. And, for once, your heart didn't feel like it was hurting.

~~~~~

(Ooooh we're getting somewhere now huns... I know I never write smut but I'm kind of considering it for this series - be completely honest, what would your thoughts be for that?? I'd only do it if it was something you guys wanted to see)

Tags: @imarypayne @sunshine112 @bringmethehorizonandpizza @supernatural-girl97 @vibhati123 @butithasntkilledyouyet @faefictions @carisi-sonny @trap-house-homiecide @spiderrpcrker @tommydaspidey @oneblckcoffee @darlingtholland @fanficparker @xxtomxo @httpfandxms @jackiehollanderr @bookish-and-shy @trustfundparker @kaitlynjones12

[georgeharris0n]

Stop And Smell The Sunflowers

Rated: PG-13

Word Count: 2k

Pairing: George Harrison/Ringo Starr

Chapters: 1/1

Note: Hope you like it @another-random-girl! I loved WritiNg this SOoo muCh!

Also, Some sligHT McLennon.

George looked utterly exhausted. He was slumped rather uncomfortably in a seat staring off into blank space. His eyes squinting as the train was at a current halt, after finally returning to Marylebone Station. The Beatles had been informed of at least two more scenes that needed to be filmed before the day could subsequently wrap up.

 Ringo himself had a rather tedious shoot, but George had taken most of the heavy hits. They hadn’t been prepared for the work of scenes, and takes. Remembering lines was a pain too, and it was only their first day. They still had more locations and songs to sing, and the mundane train scenes were already proving to be rather boring.

Ringo mostly sympathized with George however. His handsome features looked nearly shot with annoyance as he slumped in that chair. Ringo remembered watching George nursing at his knees from the chase scene. George had a nasty fall that he thankfully was able to recover from quickly,but overall he was fully aware this day had taken the most out of George.

Ringo took a glance down the train corridor. John and Paul were currently flirting futility with the young actresses in the school girls outfits.

Little did they know,  Ringo had seen Paul in one of the carriages, giving John a bright purple hickey on his neck, which he currently wasn’t bothering to hide.

The two of them did love a good flirt though. George wasn’t much the type, at least not since he and Ringo had become an item. One of the girls had approached him earlier, a younger, blonde miss. Ringo could still feel the warmth in his chest when George politely declined her invitation for dinner and remarked that he was spoken for.

Ringo gave the corridor another glance to see if he could spot the director. If they weren’t going to get to those last two scenes just yet… they might have a bit of time to themselves.

In quick, but quiet strides, Ringo edged his way to his boyfriend. He took George’s hand in his and quickly placed a kiss on it before sitting down beside him.

“That was a nice surprise.” George smirked as he sat up in his seat. “That- was the most interesting thing to happen’ all day.”

Ringo’s cheeks reddened, but the glint in his eye said he had something up his sleeve. “Well, let’s get ourselves a little change of scenery then.”

Ringo smiled, then stood once more to take George hand again, this time pulling him out of his chair and quickly to the opposite carriage.

“Ringo? What are you…” The next carriage was filled with props and clothes racks. Ringo pulled off a long beige trench and cabbie hat, and slipped them both on. He took another glance and saw a thick scarf and a brown worn top hat and handed it George’s way.

George quirked his brow. “What’s this?”

Ringo was rummaging through a propbox when he pulled out a spare camera, giving it a once over, then decidingly hanging it around his neck. “It’s a disguise, love. Now follow me before someone sees us, yeah?’

Ringo had turned out the carriage door, and despite George’s bewilderment, he followed quite eagerly behind.

The two stepped off the train platform and avoided as much eye contact with passersby as possible. Sneaking away wasn’t easy as a Beatle, but the station had been decommissioned for the filming, so no civilians would spot them just yet.

Once the two reached the pavement, no one paid much mind to them. The pedestrians were mostly grumbling businessmen, forced to take an alternate route due to the “undignified rock n’ roll film” currently inconveniencing the masses.

Ringo shot George a slight smile and started on to the nearest crosswalk with George trailing beside him. Every so often,  their hands brushed, much like they did during press conferences, or public dinners. They both had a strong urge to just- grab it. To just say, Fuck it, I want to hold your hand. Unfortunately, blending in was difficult already, so the two settled on the light (purposeful) brushes, and the occasional hooking of pinkies. Brian was explicit on the lads being secretive, in fact, once he finds out they went off on their own, into the public of London. He will be furious.

“Where are you taking us Ritchie?” George’s muffled voice inquired through the scarf he wrapped over nearly half his face.

Ringo smiled down at the points of his shoes then turned another corner.

“I think you’ll like it… I just thought we ought’ to get away for a while.”

George’s lip quirked up under the scarf, and he continued to follow Ringo.

The crowds were beginning to thin, till there was nearly no one left on the pavement with them. They were at least two blocks away from the set, though George wasn’t fully sure he had been paying that much attention.

When Ringo came to a halt they appeared to be outside a greenery of some kind. A park.

Ringo pulled the gate latch that coincided the red brick walls, and opened the entrance.

“Ringo, is this even allowed?” George’s apprehension was a bit obvious, but Ringo shook his head.

“It’s a public park, just a bit forgotten, hidden away.”

George tilted his head. “Then how do you know about it?”

Ringo shuffled nervously and his bright blue eyes clouded a bit to grey. “The hotel had an old newspaper, a couple weeks old, the place is going to be demolished and replaced soon… I read it was a bit close to the station… thought maybe it would be a neat place to visit to take a load off.”

George felt his body relax, no longer feeling as anxious. He now felt remorse for the place, and looking into the cobble path, it seemed a lot more appealing than before.

George laid a hand behind the small of Ringo’s back and guided him through the threshold, while closing the gate latch behind them.

He took his scarf and the comical top hat and hung them neatly on a nearby tree limb. “I think a nice, private load off is real gear idea, Ritchie.”

____________________

The garden was unlike anything the two Liverpool lads had ever seen. It was absolutely breathtaking in the most strange and peculiar of ways.

The garden was tight, and no where near spacious. Plants and vegetation grew over every nick and cranny, it was lush, and unruly. It was clearly never kept up. Ivy vines grew up nearly every tree, hanging low and occasionally tickling the tops of their heads. Bushes of perennials were abundant, clearly never pruned, while dime sunflowers grew between the tangled roots below.

In the seclusion and shade of the heavy thick trees, George paid no mind to taking Ringo’s hand. He hadn’t even felt Ringo tense up- it was as if this garden was the safest place either of them could find themselves being. No fear of the press, or news headlines capturing and exposing the couple. The garden had clearly never seen human contact in decades. It was overgrown and messy, and somehow that is what made it even more appealing.

The path branched out in seperate ways, some sections covered by vines and roots. They both steered to the right and found a tiny pond shaded over. Barely touched by the sun.

“Hey, let’s have a seat huh? Legs are a bit tired.” Ringo murmured, letting go of George’s hand a sitting down onto the bank of the pond.

“Only if you promise me a kiss when I meet you down there.” George winked, as he watched Ringo blush from the welcomed affection.

George kneeled down, and seated himself close to Ringo. Both their trousers mostly likely muddled with dirt and damp from the bank.

Ringo was covering a smile with his hand and wandered his eyes to the pond, too flustered to meet George’s.

George knew what Ringo was thinking. Despite not exactly being in public. They were out. In London, outside- no security, no manager, no bandmates. This was as public, and private as they could be. It was both terrifying and… exhilarating.

George reached up two fingers to Ringo’s chin, and gently turned his face to face his own.

“Geo…”

Ringo’s other hand flexed against his own knee, and George took the opportunity to grab a hold of his hand again. Giving it a proper squeeze.

“It’s… it’s just us okay?” George barely whispered as he leaned forward still not quite where he wanted to be. He didn’t want to push Ringo if he was in fact too scared to do this here.

They had done this countless times before, but always away from any outside space, from any prying eyes, and they were always assured of that, as per Paul’s request to Brian that security was tight as a knot for the two couples.

Now they were far away… and Ringo was already pressing his lips to George’s.

It wasn’t a clashing kiss, nor was it hesitant. Ringo tilted his head in order for more space to move between George’s bottom lip, which made George lean down against him fervently to increase the pressure and close remaining space between them. He had taken quick control of the kiss as Ringo was now unceremoniously being pushed back onto his elbows with George still kneeling over top of him with a firm hand gripping the borrowed trench coat.

The kiss was slowing down a bit, in contrast to George’s sudden burst of energy. He took to laying Ringo flat on his back and just kissing him lazily against the grass beside the pond and bushels. Occasionally breaking for air and responding to Ringo’s sleepy nibbles at his red lips.

Ringo smiled against George’s last nip before letting a giggle slip.

“What- hey what are you-”

“Hold still hold still.” Ringo was reaching for the camera on his side, and checking the film.

He brought it up to his eye, and between both of George’s arms framing either side of him, he snapped a photograph.

“Sunflowers suit you well Georgie.”

“Ringo-” Before George could ask what in the fuck he was talking about, the camera had dispensed a rather clear polariod of George, which Ringo flashed to his face.

It appears several dime sunflowers had fallen, and scattered on his head. With George’s bewildered smile apparent in the shot, it was nearly picture perfect. Nothing about it was flawed, and George’s eyes were looking down so longingly… He looked so in love.

To be fair, he had been looking at Ringo, who wouldn’t fall for him?

George chuckled at his smiling boyfriend who was gearing up for another picture. “You couldn’t resist could you?”

Ringo flashed another shot with camera before sitting up, and scottig from beneath George. “Not in the slightest.” He grinned with a cheeky smile.

The two both laughed and once again while taking another look at the vines and flowers.

“Shame this place won’t be here much longer eh’?” Ringo remarked looking out to take a shot of the pond overcast.

“Yeah… I rather like it.” George sorrowed as he spread his palm in the rich soil.

“Ritchie? Think I could ever get myself one of these? A garden? Maybe even a pond like this?”

Ringo felt his cheeks ache. George had him smiling big. “Maybe someday… I don’t see why not.”

The lovers never wanted to leave, but of course the life of a Beatles never gave them much time to stop and smell the sunflowers. They would end up missing those last two scenes altogether, Brain would give them a stern verbal slap on the wrist, while John and Paul would secretly envy them for not thinking of running off as well.

But that time spent in the garden would stay with the both of them. Especially George…    

[coffeeandcalligraphy]

Animal Instinct + Dead Disco | Writing Update

Hey People of Earth!

We’re back with another Moth Work update because ya girl has finished two chapters and is here to spill all the tea! If you missed update one, and two, be sure to check them out before reading this one! I’ve been having a bit of cabin fever with this project lately which has made it difficult to really immerse myself into the project. But we’re almost at the 20k mark of this project which is wILD! I never imagined writing so much of this story (which was initially just a guilty pleasure) and I’m happy with how much I’ve learned about my characters just through this small detour in the series.

The first chapter I’ll be updating on is chapter four, ANIMAL INSTINCT. 

This chapter was a giant pain to finish! It had about 5000 revisions mid-draft, and I definitely feel like I had blinkers on when writing it. Because of that, I lost sight of the big picture and really got stuck on the little things, like the writing and overall quality of the project. This was not actually the purpose of Moth Work--it was supposed to be a dumping ground for whatever. However, in this chapter, I became really hyperfocused on all the small details I disliked which made drafting it a month-long process. I’ve now come to a slightly healthier place with quality in this draft, and found a middle ground between trash-dumping and nitpicking. 

What’s it about?

Animal Instinct is a major point of tension for Lonan and Harrison as their goals deviate. This chapter focuses heavily on the volatility of their relationship and highlights Lonan’s current irrational mental state. The title stems from this idea of calculated action for the sake of a single person’s benefit. 

The writing bit: 

I struggled to write this chapter quite a bit. It took me the majority of July to complete because of a major logic problem I kept running into. After struggling for a few days, I finally realized by fleshing out what I’d written initially, I could overwrite the logic problem. The solution took a lot of work/test scenes to figure out, but eventually I got it!

Excerpts:

I shared this excerpt before because it’s one of the only paragraphs I don’t mind in this chapter! I think the flow is a lil funky but I dig the concept! This outlines the last bits of the cabin, specifically Harrison’s final check around the perimeter. 

Around the corner, the back patio is static—like Anna and her son never stopped sitting there. Her bowl of avocado and Greek yogurt—the holistic remedy Emily said would make her glow like an angel—sits gummy and pestered with flies. One of Milo’s toys is wedged under the cheap lawn chair. It haunts him, seeing them while not seeing them, but he leaves everything like it is. Anna and her son will always remain on the patio, Anna with her cheekbones splayed for the moon, Milo babbling mildly about his father like he hasn’t made the connection. They’ve gone invisible.  

After this first scene, Harrison does some driving in the dark which gives me major book three vibes lol, and eventually pulls into a motel somewhere in Nevada. This route from Oregon to Boston makes no sense but I conveniently needed Lonan to end up in Vegas, so!! do it for Vegas!!

In the motel, Harrison meets Jeremiah, his potential new man lol. Harrison is focused on getting in and out of there as quickly as possible, but he’s like dang mans teeth are the straightest I ever did see (me too tho). Because he gets distracted, he fails to notice his car turn off, and only makes the connection after passing it a few times in the parking lot. He minorly paniques as he looks for Lonan, but eventually finds him around the building. 

The scene that follows gets volatile as heck, and really showcases how similar Lonan and Reeve are? Like dang that whole family tho? (Can I join?)

I’m not going to share much of this scene because she gets dramatic, but this is the wildest dialogue I’ve written in a while and I think I’m going to steal it and make Reeve say it because something like this would come out of her mouth:

“Do you feel that, Harrison? I could burn you with a cigarette and call it a wolf bite and nobody would know the difference.” 

sounds normal at first then NOPE

The next chapter (chapter 5) is called Dead Disco:

This chapter came together very quickly because I’d had it basically planned out, however, it veered into an emotional direction I wasn’t expecting. This chapter was supposed to be fun and lighthearted, and it ended up being... not that??  

What’s it about?

After the tragic drama that occurs in the previous chapter, Harrison wakes up the next morning to notice that Lonan has #left and #taken the car. This is v/ not good, but instead of getting super worked up he chooses to chill out at Jeremiah’s place and chill ft. some disco. I meant for it to be cute but Harrison ends up in a mental place I wasn’t expecting, so the chapter feels a bit “derealized” to me. After both Lonan and Harrison head out on their solo endeavors, they meet back up and this encounter ends *badly*. 

Playlist:

July 31st Rachel was feeling very enthusiastic about the playlist for this chapter (I was writing while listening to music) and wrote down a list of songs that describe the progression of this chapter (in order + all Nothing But Thieves because predictable!):

Holding Out For A Hero

Crazy

Afterlife

Hanging

Excuse Me

Forever & Ever More

You Know Me Too Well

I’m Not Made By Design

Amsterdam

Number 13

Itch

Hostage

BUT SHOUTOUT TO: Disco by Surf Curse

Probably the most accurate vibe here lol

Excerpts:

This first excerpt is Harrison angsting hard about missing his friends. I don’t *love* her but I don’t *hate* her! I tried revising it but it... flopped, so here’s the failed revision:

Lonan could say those words and it haunts him, how easily he taints him like a bad omen. There are so many things Emily would tell him to do to cleanse the bad magic, but Harrison recalls none of them properly. He remembers words like moon, and black walnut, and quartz crystal, and cardamom, but can’t think of what to do with any. He wishes he were like Foster, curious enough to carry around a pocket dictionary, or like his mother, clever enough to make something up on a whim. All Harrison can do is bury his face in his palms outside the restaurant and hope no one watches him. The main road bustles by and he wishes to be invisible, like Anna and her son. He wants his friends back. Foster could lull him to consciousness with a quiz on the different kinds of plants, which are edible, which are poisonous. Reeve would split a cigarette with him and scare him back to life with her driving. Emily will never speak to him but at least she’d cast a curse on him, and even that’s better than his nullified state of living. It’s disorienting, to feel asleep while awake. Harrison blinks hard, but everything feels the same—the buildings all shimmering, the people staring barely even people, everything derealized like it’s all been coated in REM. 

(tag urself i’m foster’s pocket dictionary)

This next excerpt outlines Harrison getting turnt with his new man and then getting philosophical? drunk Harrison be Aristotle and Madonna smushed together idk

Harrison knows he shouldn’t drink around a stranger but Jeremiah’s got a handmade bracelet and scribbly tattoos on his forearm so it’s hard not to trust him. Photo prints of hostels in Japan, statues in Europe, cathedrals in Paraguay decorate the walls in perfectly cut rectangles. Each is plumed with a dried flower and it reminds Harrison so much of Emily, he has to look away, back to the Lonan-coloured drink. He studies the shot glass like it isn’t transparent, the grooves around the perimeter, the engraving that reads Cancun 1987. He loses Jeremiah’s absent swish around him, and gets lost in the blue. The trifecta amazes him, how a colour as unnatural as this has manifested in Lonan’s eyes, his earring, this drink. He tips the glass back and finishes it in one go, and even though it’s strong and should taste like artificial blueberries, his mouth is tasteless and numb.

“You live here alone?” Harrison asks, raking his fingers through his hair. The apartment overlooks the strip across the street and Harrison gets lost in it, the artificial signs like bad advertising, the neons ill like influenza. When he looks toward Jeremiah again, his glass is refilled and he has to think hard to remember if he emptied it in the first place. 

This is where Harrison manages to make disco big sad + some lowkey salt at Lonan which is always! a! win!:

Together, they move in a trance, limber and manic. The glass in Harrison’s hand isn’t a weight—it’s a lifeline. The apartment blurs, and waves in slow motion. Harrison doesn’t hear the music or taste the drink; he feels nothing in the ground, and everything in his tongue. His hair swims in his face like Lonan’s, moving like he did in the water, careless in his forehead, his eyes. The pictures on the wall become the pictures in his bedroom, and the blinking doesn’t get rid of them. In his sidesteps with Jeremiah he sees him, in the glass, across the street, under a streetlamp. Taking his cigarettes, his light, his car, his mouth like a cannibal. 

To end this update, here’s some dialogue ft. savagery:

“You’re patronizing me.”

“You’re patronizing yourself.” 

A meme to accompany this lol:

So that’s it for this update! At the time of drafting most of this post (which was a few weeks ago), I wasn’t really feeling this project, however, after writing chapter 6 and switching POVs into Lonan’s head (where there’s lots of messy stuff to work with), I’ve been having a lot of fun!

I’m sorry updates have been slow on this blog--I’m in the process of moving so I’m getting busy, however, I hope to post at least one more update before I go off to school! Thanks for reading. :)

--Rachel

[social-holland]

Forgive and Forget | Chapter Three

Pairing: Mob!Tom Holland x Female!Reader

Warnings: Mention of emotional abuse, swear words, guns and mob stufff in general 

Summary: Thomas Holland is the most dangerous man in England. His family had   been in power over the last few decades. But as one of his business  deals threatens to go down south, he meets Y/N Y/L/N and she turns his world upside down.

Words: 3647

Additional Notes: FROM NOW ON I WILL UPLOAD A NEW CHAPTER EVERY MONDAY! Also if you find any mistakes please let know. :)

Prologue | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4

The coffee coloured eyes staring at her. Surprised how she could be here. “Would you like to dance?” Harrison asked Rachel immediately. She nodded, and both left. Y/N standing in front Tom, Harry and another boy, who looked like he could be another brother.

“Hello Darling.” Tom greeted her.

Y/N turned around for a moment. Her eyes following Rachel, who was also looking at her friend. Both having a silent conversation before Y/N focused back to the three men in front of her. Harry and a dark-haired boy were seated at one of the loveseats that were standing on the sides. Tom was in the middle on the big sofa, a punch of pillows behind them. His surprised expression replaced by a pleasant smile.

He was wearing black suit pants and a dark red suit shirt. The first three buttons were opened. His hair put to the back of his head apart from a few curls who seemed to have their own mind. His partners in a similar attire.

“H-Hi.” Toms eyes never leaving her figure. “Hey Y/N. I’m Sam. Toms brother.” The dark-haired man stood up and greeted, stretching his hand at her. A small smile on his face. “One of many.” Tom corrected. Y/N took Sam’s hand, shaking it for a moment. Harry nodding at her and at the same time rolling his eyes over his brother’s comment.

“Take a seat, love.” Tom offered to her. She took it next to him, having Harry on the side next to her. “Thanks.” She answered Tom, but he didn’t seem to hear her over the music that was playing. She couldn’t recognize the artist or song. His eyes on Harry and Sam for a moment. Before Sam asked her “You want something to drink, Y/N?” She just shook her head, declining his offer. “No, thank you.” She could already feel a little buzzed and the dancing before didn’t take much away from it.

“One of many?” She asks Tom. One of his brow furrowed. “Brothers? Sam. Is one of many?” She helped him out. He chuckled over it. “One of three.” Sam insisted. “Harry and Sam are twins and there is Paddy. He the youngest, still living with my parents.” Tom continued before taking a sip of his drink and leaning back into the many pillows. Her body was facing his and he put one of his arms behind her.

“Do you have any siblings?” Y/N played with her hands, a small smile on her face. “Yes, Parker. But he is the only one.” He watched her. Taking her hand into his to stop her from it. “Is he younger?” Tom knew all this information already, but he wanted to hear it from herself. “Yes, about three years. But h-he is not here. “Tom furrowed his brows.

“Where is he?” Y/N bit her lip for a moment. “United States. He moved there.”

She looked over to Rachel again. They locked eyes. Rachel smiling at her, a silent encouragement to her friend. Harrison took her hand and swirled her around to him. Demanding Rachels attention. Her head falling a little back, making it seem like she was laughing at him. Kendrick Lamar bouncing of the walls.

“Your best friend?” Tom asked. He was looking at her. “Yes, that’s Rachel.” She introduced Tom more or less.

Sam and Harry were both silently listening to the conversation. Before Tom shoot them a glance and the message were clear. He needed to talk to Y/N alone.

“Let’s have some fun, Sam.” To her surprise did Harry smile at her before standing up and announcing their department.  Both leaving Y/N and Tom alone. Making their way over where Haz and Rachel who were still dancing in the crowd.

“Do you like him?” Tom suddenly asks. “Who?” Y/N turns to look at Tom, one of her brows furrowed. “Michael Cromwell.” He simply says. “I don’t know anyone who likes him.” The Y/H/C haired woman answers. “Why are you doing this to yourself?” His voice seemed curious and there was an undertone to it. Like he was almost concerned for her. But Y/N couldn’t imagine why he should be.

After some time, she voiced. “I don’t think you should care for that.” His right hand which laying on his leg turned to a fist. His lips pressed into a small line. “Well, here I am. Caring for that, for you. So why?”

She swallowed at his change of attitude. “I don’t even know you and you don’t know me. From where should I know that you don’t go running telling him that?” Y/N challenged Tom.

“Because I’m not his employee, darling. Apart from that you never answered my question if I could trust you.” He dared to say and slipped closer to her. Their faces as close as possible without touching.

“Can I trust you?” Now she was the one asking. “Yes, you can.” Tom was tired of the constant question that never seemed to leave the room when they were together. And it was true. She could trust him. If he could he would protect her from any danger that would come her way, including Cromwell.

It was weird to him, to have this feeling for her. But here he was, talking to her. Feeling his heart racing at her sight in front of him and his hands sweating. He felt less like a twenty-seven year old mob boss and more like a teenager.

Something changed in her expression. She almost looked soft. “You can trust me, too.” Y/N whispered. He probably wouldn’t even hear her if they two didn’t sit that close together. His face softened at her words, a small smile gracing his lips.

 Harrison and Rachel came back from the dancefloor. Both took a seat next to each other. “Having fun, lovebirds? “Rachel teased her friend. Toms smile disappeared and was replaced by a blank look. He leaned back into the pillows. His arm still laying behind Y/N.

“Always.” Y/N replied monotone. She had an idea on what her friend was thinking.

A huge smile building on Rachels face as she watched the reaction of the two opposites to her. Harrison having the equal response, taking another sip of his drink to cover it.

“Let’s get something to drink.” Rachel offered. Y/N nodded before taking a glance at Tom again. “You want something, too?” Her brows furrowed. Both boys declined. Rachel took Y/N’s hand and they made their way to the bar.

While both girls waited, Rachel asks “What did you two talk about?” Her face turned to Y/N. Curiosity written all over it. “Just his brothers and Parker.” Y/N face went back to both boys who seemed in a serious discussion. Haz looked stressed while Tom’s face had an angry expression. He was talking, Haz nodding along.

“You think there talking about us?” Y/N questioned her friend. Rachel laughed about it. “Nope.” She turned her head back to her friend. “Why? “ The green eyed girl now fully turned around to her. “Because Tom would never frown around you.” Y/N turned her head to the side. “You met him today, for the first time. How would you now?”

“Because…” Rachel smirked, took her drink from the bartender after paying him. “I saw how he looked at you. This is Tom Holland and he would never watch someone like you.” She turned around and made her way back to the two boys. “Wait! From where do you know him?” Y/N hurried after her, nearly spilling her drink.

“I think he and you would fit good together.” Rachel winked at her before sitting next to Harrison again. Y/N just shook her head over her. Having no idea what her friend was talking about.

 The rest of the night was spent between the four. Harry and Sam had disappeared somewhere. Business as Harrison had described it. Rachel gave her thumbs up when Tom and her went to the dancefloor. He was a good dancer, and both seemed to enjoy it and they got close again.

Her eyes wide. Their bodies rubbing on each other. His hands on her waist, holding her against him. Her arms holding onto his shoulder. Y/N could feel her cheeks heating up as closer his face got to hers. Almost close enough for their lips to touch. Almost.

If Harrison and Rachel wouldn’t have interrupted them. Letting them know that they would leave together, Rachel a big smile on her face. It widened when Tom told Y/N he would take her home. Rachel gave her a kiss on the cheek before following Haz out of the club.

Y/N and Tom danced for another song before he leads her outside. His car, a black Audi R8, already standing outside. He opened the door for her to get in. Tom, shortly behind her, started the car, driving to the main route.

“Don’t you want to ask where I live?” Y/N wanted to know. He tensed for a moment. “Sure. Where do you live?” He looked at her, biting his bottom lip. She told him the direction and he nodded over it. Narrowing his eyes over it for a moment before relaxing his features.

 Y/N had enjoyed dancing with him tonight. Somehow it felt good when he put his hands on her waist. Holding her against him and having him close by.

They didn’t talk for a while and both enjoyed it. It felt comfortable to be in each other’s presence. She felt at least nice. Until he started asking her questions again…

“You said I could trust you. So why don’t you tell me why you continue working for him, especially when he isn’t a good boss?”

“How said he isn’t a good boss?” She weakly tried to not answer his question.

“I know him long enough, sweetheart. Furthermore, he isn’t a good person nor are you the usual type of assistant he would go for.”

The truth is that she wasn’t ready to share anything about her job and the circumstances with Tom. She wanted to trust him and for him to trust her. But trust needed time.

The reality stayed, this part of her life should not be opened up, not again.

Tom could see her struggling to answer. How her mind seemed to go to places he was not able to understand, yet. Before he even could comprehend her facial expression, her face hardened. “With all due respect, it’s none of your business.”

They arrived at her home. And she opened the door and left the car. Before she was able to close it, took Tom her hand. “Here take it. For… emergency’s or if you want to talk.“ Tom voice was soft as he placed a piece of paper into her hand.

Y/N was surprised by his actions. Not sure what he meant but nodded her head over his words. “Thank you.” Her voice soft and quiet as well. “I’m sorry.” Y/N nodded and tried to give him a little smile. She turned around, closed the car door and made her way to her apartment block. He waited until she disappeared into the building.

Tom restarted the car and made his way back to the office. There was a long night ahead of him and he needed to get things done.

<<< 

She was woken up by the sun shining directly in her face. She groaned and threw her blanket over herself. Squeezing her eyes shut. She was not hungover, she didn’t drink barely enough to feel a little bit buzzed. The thought over the events of yesterday followed her. Because of them, she was not able to fall back asleep.

Rachel words clung to her. What did she mean and how could she know Tom? Rachel, for sure, had never to do with some kind of security, so how could she possibly know them.

But there were also other thoughts that occupied her mind. How would her parents react to Tom? Parker would certainly be happy for her, but her parents are a whole over story... Things are complicated, and Y/N would be happy if she could just ignore her problems and everything that came with it. Because if her parents would know, Cromwell would find out as well. And she couldn’t even imagine how that would play out.

Y/N groaned over all the thoughts that were playing in her mind. Letting her hand fall to the floor next to her. Feeling around for a moment before taking the piece of paper and opening it. The piece Tom had given her yesterday.

His name and number on it.

 If Tom is interested…

 Another groan left Y/N’s lips. Making the decision to get up, she threw her blanket back and walked out of her bedroom. Taking some clothes with her to the bathroom.

A loud thump from the door took her out of her morning routine. She quickly exits the bathroom and walks into the kitchen. Rachel already standing at the coffee machine, preparing a few cups. “How was your night?” Y/N teased. Taking some cereal and fruit as well as soy milk from the fridge.

“Amazing. You have no idea.” Rachel smiled. “How was Tom? Is he still here?“ The brunette turned around to her friend. “You don’t even look hungover.” She added.

“Because I’m not and Tom is probably at his home. I didn’t sleep with him.” Y/N continued preparing her food. Her back turned to her friend. Rachel took a seat at the table which was placed in the middle of the room. A smirk on her face as she was preparing the next words.

“I don’t even know why. He is hot and mobsters are pretty good in bed. At least what I know from my last night experience.”

Y/N turned around. Gulps of milk, from the bowl in her hand, hitting the floor. “What did you just say?” Her voice higher pitched than normal, her eyes wide and mouth open. “What do you mean? I said…” But Rachel didn’t get far. “I heard you. But did you just say mobster? Like the mob? “

YN couldn’t comprehend what her friend just said. She repeatedly shook her head. Her mouth still wide open. “That’s what I said, dummy!” Rachel laughed.

“I-I thought you went home with Harrison last night? “Y/N placed her bowl back onto the worktop. Arms crossed, and brows furrowed. She couldn’t believe that her friend would be as careless as sleeping with someone from the mafia.

“I did.” Y/N features relaxed and she sighed. “How did he get the idea that he would be part of the mob?” She massaged her forehead.

“Love, because there are. Tom is the leader and Harrison is his best mate.” Rachel looked at her weirdly. “He is Tom Holland, Y/N. The mob leader. How would you even get the idea of him being in a security company? “ She now laughed.

“B-Because he told me that.” Y/N was confused and she turned angry, fast. The anger hitting her friend. “Are you crazy? How could you go home with a mob member?!” She nearly screamed.

Rachel stayed calm and answered her friend in a normal tone. “Because he was hot. Apart from that you knew them first and let them take us over to their table.” Lifting her hands in defence. “I mean who doesn’t know the Hollands.”

“I don’t. “ Y/N weakly defended her. She let herself fall to the floor, hiding her head in between her hands. “Why didn’t you warn me? This is no joke, Rachel! This is the mafia. “

She was still angry and extremely frustrated with her friend.

“Believe it or not but I think that Tom might be good for you. ” Y/N groaned. “How can you say that?” She was still hiding behind her hands, eyes closed. Her head pounding.

“Because he can protect you. Let alone how he looked at you yesterday. Plus, I have a thing for Harrison.” She stood up from her place and put coffee in both mugs. Giving one to her friend. “This is the mob we are talking about, Rach. This is no joke.” She argued.

“I never claimed that it was joke. Just my opinion.” Taking a sip from her mug. “No way. I’m into enough trouble as it is. I don’t need to add more to the pile.”

“You like him. Don’t deny it, I saw it yesterday.” Rachel argued. “That was before I knew he was basically a mobster.” She threw back at her friend. “Doesn’t matter. You like him already and I know you. If you like someone, you like someone.”  Y/N groaned from her place before standing up and walking back to her room. “Well if this would be the truth, he lied to me. And I don’t like liars. End of topic.” Y/N shut the door, a loud thump from the strength she used.

Rachel smirked. She knew, she was right even if her friend wouldn’t admit it as of now. Taking the bowl her stubborn friend left for herself and shooting a text at the man she had spent the previous night with.

Y/N on the other side leaned against the door for a moment. Groaning at herself over her own stupidity. Before taking the little piece of paper that was laying on her desk and throwing it in the trash. Fuck Tom Holland. He could take a long wait for a message from her.

<<< 

“You’re so whipped for her already, mate.” Harry joked. “You got to inform mom and dad that they will meet their soon to be daughter in law.” Sam continued, and Tom send them death glare. He took another smoke from his cigarette, frustrations crowing. “Honestly Tom. You never this happy around a woman. At least you never smile at them.” Harrison continued. “Don’t you have work to do?” Tom groaned before giving Harrison his cigarette.

“No word to Mom and Dad. You know how they get.” He threatened the boys. They just continued smirking at the brown-haired mobster. “And finally get rid of Williams downstairs. There is no fucking use to him anymore.” He continued. His voice left no place for contradictions.

Harry and Sam followed his commands. Harrison waited until both had left before turning back to his mate. “I could always talk to Rachel if you want me to.” He offered.

Tom watched his mate for a moment, thinking about it, before shaking his head and declining his offer. “No. I need from her first. It’s only been a week.” He tried to convince, Haz.

In reality, Tom was frustrated with Y/N. He was not someone who liked to play stupid games. There had not been one message from her. Nothing, ever since that night.

And he was afraid that he might have fucked up with his questions. So, fucking stupid. But he wanted to give her time. Even it made him nervous and frustrated, day by day.

Harrison shrugged his shoulder and smirked. “The offer still holds. Let me know if you change your mind… or get more frustrated.”

The door closed behind him and Tom knew his men were waiting for him. His head hitting the desk.

How the fuck could she have taken over his mind is such a short amount of time? It didn’t make fucking sense to him. He would be dammed for being whipped that much.

A groan left his lips, he took his gun from next to him. Walking to the door while loading it. Time to get his job done. Priorities first.

<<<

The overweight man had his head in his hands. He was full of hate. Hate for the mobster who tried to take over his business. And Cromwell wanted revenge. The man promised himself that he would not be a puppet in a game of a twenty-seven-year-old who was lucky enough to take over his father’s business. Seated at his desk and desperately trying to form a plan. Cromwell knew he needed a clear head for this, controlling his anger or better letting it out.

He knew exactly how do that. His new secretary was the perfect victim. The grey-haired business man knew she would never spill a word or even dare to stand up against him. Her father, one of his best friends, had made sure of it. He stood up from his working place, making the way to her desk, ready to show her how unimportant she was. In the end, she was only a woman. What could she do?

On his face was an evil smile as he cackled and took the phone, dialling the number.

“Mr. Cromwell?” Her voice already sounding afraid. That’s just what he wanted. “You got two minutes to get you pacific being into my office and bring your work, useless woman.” He commanded.

The phone already back to its place. He could hear her shuffling. Just perfect for him. The evil smile never leaving his lips as he leaned back. The chair squeaking under his weight.

Y/N made her way into the office. Her head bowed, not looking at him and her work papers pressed against her body.

“Turn around again.” He demanded. She looked up at him. “Are you deaf now, frump?” She cringed at the insult being thrown at her, being confused at his demands. “No, sir.” She whispered.

“You didn’t knock on my door, woman. Go back and try again.” His hands pressed against each other. He couldn’t believe how could worked out for him now. At least he could get his frustration of him.

Y/N did as she was told. Leaving the office. Her eyes pressed shut, she took a deep breath. Telling herself that she could do it. She would survive this job. She had no other choice.

Taking another breath, forcing the tears away, she knocked on the door….

Next Chapter: Monday, September 24th.

Please, Please leave a comment or reblog if you enjoyed this chapter. It would mean a lot to me. <3

Tag List:  @delicately-written @alina-barnes @buckykinz  @greenarrowhead  @loxbbg @empirialwolf @rima-chan @thatstupidgirll @youshutthefuckupville @tom-hollands-eyelash @mac-demarco1   @pignolithecookie    

Permanent Tag List: @spideytaeh @tomhollanduniverse @smexylemony @marvelismylifffe @lavieenbananabread

[jamiemac26]

Movin’ On - Chapter Two: Year One

Movin’ On - By JameMac

Description: A relationship is made up of moments. Moments that span days and years, spaces of time. Y/N had been with Harrison Osterfield for 10 years, but after a horrific argument they break up and she finds herself reminiscing, about all the good times they had together and all of the bad times that they went though. She starts to see the pieces that fell - what she once thought was the perfect puzzle, every piece in its place, turned out to be a facade, one big jumbled up mess with nothing but patches in place of the missing pieces.  

“Seriously Elena, why do you always have to introduce me to your boyfriend’s friends,” Y/N huffed as she followed her best friend through the crowded house party.

Elena didn’t even bother turning around, “Will you stop complaining. I promise you that this time will be different.”

“You say that every time,” Y/N mumbled a quick apology as she bumped shoulders with a fellow party goer. “I just want to get through the last year of school incident free.”

“What makes you think that meeting these guys will cause an incident,” Elena air quoted as she turned to face her friend.

Y/N rolled her eyes, “I’m not even going to waste my time answering that question.”

Elena shook her head, “You are such a drama queen.”

“And now it all makes sense as to why we go to a drama school. Oh wait, you’re the one that goes to...” Y/N stopped short, nearly colliding with her friend. “Hey, why did you stop?”

“Y/N, I would like you to meet Harrison and Tom,” Elena stepped aside, allowing full view of the two boys.

One was tall, one was shorter. One was blond, one had brown hair. One had stunning blue eyes and the other had liquid chocolate that stared back at her. Both were adorably cute and Y/N found herself blushing under their inquisitive glances.

“Boys this is Y/N,” Elena introduced, doing her job as best friend quite well.

“You go to BRIT,” The one with brown eyes asked.

Y/N nodded.

Elena rolled her eyes, “She’s in the music route, so ya know, she’s too good for us theatre folks.”

“You got that right buttercup,” Y/N laughed, brushing her hair over her shoulders.

“Hey, there’s Rob,” Elena’s eyes lit up at the sight of her boyfriend, “I’ll catch you guys later.”

Y/N watched her disappear into the crowd. In her peripheral vision she noticed both boys shift in awkwardness. She turned her attention towards the one with the bright blue eyes, “Harrison, right?” She waited for him to nod before extending her hand, “Wanna dance?”

His hand slipped into hers and she pulled him into the middle of the wriggling bodies. His body was warm pressed up against hers. His arms were wrapped around her waist and she moved her hips in time to the pounding music. She lost herself in the pulsating rhythm and the night ended far too soon. She was pushed towards the front door by Elena, without enough time to bid her goodbyes. She didn’t expect to see them again, as their particular areas of study did not cross paths, but she at least had wanted to tell them that she had appreciated their company for the night. She frowned as Elena steered her towards her boyfriend’s car.

“Oh stop giving me that look,” She opened the door, tapping her foot impatiently, “It’s late, I want to leave and you’ll see them again.”

Y/N shrugged her shoulders as she climbed into the back seat, “Not so sure about that.”

Rob turned around, facing the passenger in the backseat of his car, “I think that you’ll be pleasantly surprised.”

Before Y/N could rebuff, Elena cranked up the volume on the radio, squealing about it being her favorite song.

She hated Mondays. It didn’t matter how long the weekend seemed, nor how short. She just despised this day and her mood usually reflected it. She stared into her locker, her mind refusing to focus on this early, gloomy morning. Yawning, she reached in to grab the book for her first class off the day. As she pulled back out, two feet appeared near hers, the owner’s body hidden behind the gray metal panel. She placed her fingers around the lip of the door, leaning backwards to get a glimpse of who her new visitor might be.

“Oh,” She was taken aback by the sight of one of the boys she had met over the weekend.

“Tom,” He re-introduced himself to her.

“I remember, just a little surprised that you came to find me,” She shut her locker door, slinging her worn backpack over her shoulder.

“Well,” He nervously shuffled his feet, “You kinda ran off without saying goodbye.”

She couldn’t help but smile at how adorable he was, “Sorry about that, Elena is to blame for that one.”

He chuckled, “She can be quite the handful, can’t she?”

“Now that’s an understatement,” He kept pace with her as they moved through the crowded hallway to her first class of the day.

“Ummm…” He started, his eyes focused solely on his hands, “Harrison and I were wondering if you wanted to hang out later?”

She looked at him. Her eyes taking in the small details of his face. It took her a moment to realize that she hadn’t answered him and that he was now staring right back at her.  She blinked a couple times, bringing her mind back into focus. “Yeah,” She nodded, “I’d love to.”

His grin lit up his face and her own smile grew wider. They quickly exchanged numbers and she watched as he weaved expertately through the crowd, a few high fives thrown in as he passed a couple of friends.

Weeks went by and their friendship grew stronger. She found herself spending more and more time with the two boys. Elena had asked her on more than one occasion which one she wanted to date and everytime she would casually shrug it off, not having really considered that option feasible. However, one night she found herself opening her front door only to find Harrison standing on the stoop, one long stemmed red rose held in his hand. His blue eyes sparkled in the light that illuminated them in the growing dimness. He had asked her out on their first date that night and she had surprisingly, without hesitation, said yes. She had, of course, been worried about Tom; what he would think, how he would feel, would this destroy their trio? All valid questions of course, and Harrison had assured her that he had asked her out with Tom’s blessing.

Their first date had simply been dinner and a movie, but the conversation that took place on her front porch had been all she needed to accept a second date. Her fears about the effect that it would have on their friendship were dispelled when instead of drifting from Tom, their bond only grew stronger. Even during his absence, he kept in constant contact with her.

The year was winding down and they were weeks away from graduation and in the midst of their final projects. She had been locked away in the studio for the last couple of hours, when Harrison plopped down into the chair next to her. She pulled the headphones off of her ears, turning to smile at him.

“You do realize that school ended about an hour ago, right,” He swiveled back and forth.

She nodded, “I have to get this part finished or I won’t get the entire thing completed in time.” She pressed a couple buttons, watching the screen in front of her with intense concentration.

“What about chilling at Tom’s tonight? Watch a movie and grab some food?” He wheeled himself closer to her, his arm draping across the back of her chair.

She shrugged but didn’t say anything.

“Come on Y/N, I’ve barely seen you the last couple of days,” Harrison grabbed her hands, turning her body to face him.

She grinned at his pleading face, “Leave me be for another hour and I’ll meet you at Tom’s.”

He smirked, leaning forward and planting a kiss on her lips.

She knocked on Tom’s door. She could hear voices on the other side and smiled. She loved Tom’s family. His brother’s had taken quite the liking to her and his parents were always very welcoming whenever she came to visit. The door flew open and Tom’s beaming face greeted her.

“Hey, I was wondering if you were going to make it. Come on, we’re hanging out in the backyard.”

He turned and walked through the house, leaving her to close the door. She shook her head, laughing quietly.

“I thought we were watching a movie,” She stepped into the backyard, stopping short as she was met with a giant sign, balloons and Harrison dressed up in a suit. “What??”

“Y/N, will you go to prom with me?” Harrison stepped towards her, a single red rose held in between his fingers.

Her smile grew and she stepped forward, her arms wrapping around his neck in a tight embrace. “Of course I will,” She pressed her lips to his, deepening the kiss as his arms encircled her waist.

“Okay okay, now that that’s settled, let’s get to watching that movie,” Tom chortled as he brushed by them.

She pulled from Harrison, her forehead leaning against his, “You could have just asked me at the studio.”

“I know, but I wanted to make it a bit more special and you were way too occupied earlier… I doubt you would have even heard me.”

“Well Romeo, I do appreciate all the effort,” She took his hand, allowing him to pull her back into the house.

Her dress was a beautiful color pink. The skirt flowed around her knees and the bodice hugged her in all the right places. A pair of white heels donned her feet and she stood patiently with Harrison next to her, his tie matching her dress perfectly, as they posed for pictures. The smile wouldn’t leave her face and it grew even larger when a shiny black limo pulled up in front of his house. Tom popped up out of the sunroof, beckoning for them to hurry.

The music was loud and she found herself reminiscing about her very first dance with Harrison. His arms were wrapped around her tightly, his body flush against hers. His lips made their way up her neck and she moaned slightly as he hit a sweet spot behind her ear. She turned her head, allowing him better access and she caught a glimpse of Tom and his new girlfriend. He looked happy and she could almost hear his laughter drift across the room.

She hugged Harrison closer to her body, “We can go back to my house after this, my parents are out of town for the weekend.”

“Should we head out now? I can go and tell Tom?”

She clutched at him tighter, “No, just me and you.”

She watched his face light up with realization.

“Are you sure,” He whispered.

She nodded her head and he gripped her waist tighter.

It had been her first time. It had been his first time. Saying that it was magical would have been an exaggeration but it had been their memory, their moment and the intimacy had only brought them closer together. He had spent the night, his arms tight around her as he slept. She hadn’t slept much that night, her mind racing with every detail of what they had done and how it had made her feel. She knew she liked him. She knew she cared about him but as she stared at the ceiling, the silence of the night enveloping her, she had known in that moment that she loved him.

Movin’ On Masterlist

Tag List: @5-seconds-of-sarcasmm @marvelmakeuplover @baileythepenguin

[tomimagines]

A Walk in the Park

Characters: Tom Holland - Harrison Osterfield - Tessa - Y/N

Request: “one where tom is protective of you.” - anon

Notes: i didn’t think i was going to be able to finish this but I did! omg i really hope you guys like it!

——————————————————————–

“Okay, so your turn, Y/n.”

“My turn for what?” You ask from the backseat.

Tom and Haz sit in the frontseats of the Audi while you and Tessa take whatever little room is left in the back. The roof is down and the afternoon sunset is shining down on all four of you.

“To choose the next song!” Harrison turns in his seat to face you.

You smirk at him and then at Tom’s reflection in the rearview mirror. You wiggle your eyebrows and Haz rolls his eyes, laughing, before sitting back straight in his seat.

“How many more times do you have to listen to this song before you grow tired of it?” Tom asks as he hands his phone over to Haz so he can put the song. He glances at you through the rearview mirror before looking at the road.

“Never! It’s honestly the best song to listen to while you’re on the road like this,” you reply. Tessa barks her agreement and you laugh, scratching her behind the ears.

Sex on Fire by Kings of Leon starts to play but not loud enough. You push yourself forward and reach across to turn up the volume. Haz and Tom laugh at you just as you plop back on your seat. You start to sing along and soon enough, the boys join along with you.

****

Tom finally parks the car in an empty slot. You look around and see people with their dogs, people running, children playing in a playground.

You weren’t really keen to come to the park when the boys first asked you. They wanted to go for a long run when you could barely even walk to the fridge for a drink. But after Tom’s consistent begging, you finally agree but under one condition; that Tom brings Tessa along.

So now here you are, hopping out the car and grabbing Tessa’s leash. Tom and Haz begin to walk towards the beginning of a trail and you follow behind them, already regretting your decision.

“Can’t I just stay here with Tessa?? There’s a lot of people here just sitting with their dogs,” you say.

“You promised you were going to run with us!” Tom replies.

“I did no such thing!” You laugh, “I promised I would come here with you guys.”

“What if something happens?” Tom says in a serious tone that catches you off guard.

You make a confused face and then chuckle, “In a park? Where there’s a lot of people? I have Tessa with me!”

That doesn’t seem to convince Tom, though. You find it weird that he’s acting this way. You’ve been best friends for so long but he’s never given much importance as to if you were alone or not.

Harrison taps his chest, “She’ll be fine, mate. We won’t take long.”

You smile big and turn to walk towards the playground.

“Y/n!” You face Tom. “Just.. you know? Be careful and stuff.”

You roll your eyes and walk away from both of them, Tessa trotting next to you. “Your human is acting really weird, Tessa.”

She barks and you laugh at how cute and adorable she is. You start to play around with her, throwing sticks for her to catch and even letting her jump into the small dog pool.

You don’t realize that time has passed and the sky was now turning a soft blue. The children are long gone and less people were now running past. You’re sitting on the grass with Tessa’s head on your lap.

“They’re taking too long,” you tell Tessa. “I wouldn’t be surprised if they got lost.”

You start to glance around, slightly worried, trying to see any hint of them. You spot a small concession stand on the other side and suddenly your throat goes dry.

“We should get them some waters for when they come back,” you speak out loud and stand up and make your way to the concession stand.

On your walk there, time seems to speed up as the sky becomes darker and darker and the people become fewer and fewer. You’re not someone who gets scared easily but you still notice the small creepy feeling from behind you as if somebody’s watching you.

There’s a line when you arrive and so you wait patiently. Tessa begins to growl next to you. “Tessa? Not another squirrel, please.”

You face forward again and it’s then that you feel the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. You feel someone watching you but you choose to ignore, convincing yourself that it was just your mind playing tricks.

“Damn, I’ve never seen such a perfect ass.”

Your heart accelerates and not in a good way. You keep facing forward, not giving it any attention.

“Hey babe! You with the tight ass! I’d like you to face me when I’m talking to you!”

You cringe at his words and step forward just a tiny bit.

“That’s not the proper way to say thank you when a guy is complimenting you.”

Fuck. It’s dark now. Tom and Harrison are nowhere to be seen and you had no idea what to do once you got what you needed from the concession stand.

It’s time to go.

“Come on, Tessa,” you whisper to her and pulled on her leash as you fast walk the path back to the car.

You can’t hear if he’s following you but you take no chance in glancing over your shoulder to check.

Almost there.

“Whoa!”

Your heart jumped up to your throat. A thick and strong arm wrapped around your shoulder. Only one person did that to you but this was not someone familiar. Tessa remained calm, apparently thinking this was someone close to you.

“Where you goin’? I wanted to talk. How about I give you and your… dog? A ride back home?”

You look straight ahead and shake your head. “No, thank you. I came here in my car and I’d really appreciate it if you took your hands off me.”

He laughed the cruelest laugh you ever heard. “You’re funny, babe. You should appreciate that a guy like me would even be touching you. Hey,” his fingers find your chin and they force you, painfully, to finally look at him.

His features are rough, his eyes dark and frightening. His sneer made him look like a mad animal. “Let. Go. Of. Me.”

You push him away and dart towards the direction of the car when his fingers close around your arm and he pulls you towards him. You collide with his chest and you cry out in pain. His hand finds your jaw and he holds your face steady. His musty breath washes over your face and it makes bile rise up in your throat.

“No bitch is going to tell me what to do. Huh? Did you listen? No bitch!”

His sneer was back and he was inching closer. You knew what was going to happen but every time you try to pull away, his hand only tightens its grip on you. You feel like crying but did not dare show weakness. So instead, you shut your eyes and suck in your lips.

You’re surprised when he lets go of your arm and your face and his smell completely disappears. You open your eyes slowly, still wary.

Tom pushes the creep hard on his chest so that he ends up on his ass. “You keep your fucking hands off my girl!”

The asshole just laughs as he gradually stands up. He fixes his shirt and steps closer to Tom. Tom’s hands are balled up into fists but he stands tall and firm. Even from here you can see the clenching of his jaw.

“Y/n, let’s go to the car.” Harrison whispers next to you as he takes Tessa’s leash from your hand.

You shake your head and stay still as you watch the scene in front of you.

“Oh really?” The creep continues, “Your girl, huh? Why was she alone? Seems like the bitch was looking for some di-”

He doesn’t finish his sentence as Tom’s fist comes flying across the air and makes impact with his jaw. You gasp and immediately run forward.

“Shut your fucking mouth, you low-life son of a bitch! I swear I’ll knock off every fucking tooth so the only shit that comes out of you will be from your ass!”

He had knocked him straight down to the ground. The creep was holding his face, not even attempting to stand up again.

“Tom,” you whisper to him. You reach out and grab his arm to get his attention. His head turns to you and nothing but pure rage inflames his eyes but they soon turn soft once they wash over your eyes and he realizes you’re okay. “Please. He’s not worth it. I’m okay. Let’s just go home, please.”

“Did he hurt you?” His whole body is facing you now, the creep on the floor, bleeding, long forgotten. His hands find your face and he caresses it gently, nothing compared to how someone was holding it not even ten minutes ago.

You try to smile a convincing smile and nod, “I’m fine. Now that you’re here. So let’s go, okay?”

He nods and you take his hand and pull him with you towards the car. Harrison and Tessa walk ahead of you.

“Did you get lost?” You ask, trying to take his mind off of what had just happened.

“Um, yeah. We tried to take a new route and lost the trail. I should have been here-”

You shake your head. “It’s fine Tom. We’re okay now.”

“Hey,” his hand squeezes your fingers gently and stops you. You turn around to face him and he walks up to you. “I should have been here. I’m sorry that I wasn’t. I’m sorry that I haven’t been for the past several months. If something had happened to you… Shit, I don’t even want to think about what that fuck would have done if we hadn’t gotten here on time. I just-”

He closed his eyes and took in a deep breath before he wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you to his chest. You feel his lips softly press on your forehead before his arms completely wrap around you.

It’s amazing how one person’s touch makes you feel so safe and comforted. Everything that had happened in the past half hour comes flooding back and you completely let go in his arms. You don’t hold back your sobs as you cry into his chest. You think about what could have happened if he hadn’t gotten there in time. What the fucking asshole could have done to Tessa if she tried to do something.

Tom holds you tightly against him, the stars and the moon shining down on you, his hand cradling the back of your head as he ushers sweet words into your hair, “I promise you that I will never leave you alone again. Mark my words that I will give my life before letting anything happen to you.”

[popofventi]

Ventipop #233 :: Kinky Karma, Nordic Noir & The Prison Inside Me

"We are like butterflies who flutter for a day and think it is forever."  -- Sagan

HERE ARE THE MOST INTERESTING, HUMOROUS AND INSPIRING THINGS I FOUND ON THE NET THIS WEEK. IF YOU ENJOY, IT WOULD BE AWESOME IF YOU WOULD HELP SPREAD THE WORD ABOUT VENTIPOP AND SHARE WITH A FRIEND.

Joy To The World

SPECIAL THANKS TO THOSE WHO HAVE MADE CONTRIBUTIONS TO VENTIPOP THIS WEEK:

BRYAN JAMISON, LAYDON MCGUIRE, EDNA SIGORSKY, ANTNY HARRISON & LISA MCCADE

It’s A Small World After All

South Korea - For the past five years, a mock prison facility in Hongcheon, South Korea, has been locking up paying “inmates” for brief stays in simple cells where mobile devices are prohibited, talking with other participants is not allowed, and no clocks can be found. Welcome to The Prison Inside Me

Ancient Rome - "Evidence from an archaeological dig has found," wrote Telegraph science correspondent Richard Alleyne in 2012, "that legionnaires wore socks with sandals" — ancient Roman legionnaires, that is. "Rust on a nail from a Roman sandal found in newly discovered ruins in North Yorkshire appears to contain fibres which could suggest that a sock-type garment was being worn."

Japan - In Japan, the swastika still appears on maps and buildings, in its original unflipped form, as a way of designating a variety of positive meanings including good luck, prosperity, and eternity. For Westerners, the swastika induces feelings of disgust and remorse; the tacit acknowledgement that we must not let evil consume us again. Japan is the host country for the 2020 Olympics. Should Japan modify how it culturally displays swastikas before taking the world stage? The debate is on.

"If this is coffee, please bring me some tea; but if this is tea, please bring me some coffee."  -- Abraham Lincoln

Snaps & Buckles & Things

Years ago, I was working in a dive shop when this little old lady with a British accent came into the store and asked if I could direct her to the craft store located in the same shopping center. I told her where it was and after a brief back and forth, she thanked me and in her thickest Hogwart’s sounding accent said this very line: “Well, I’m off for some snaps & buckles & things”. I’ve been quoting it ever since. Sometimes it’s ok if you’re the only one that gets the joke. After all, if you can’t make the audience in your head laugh, it’s gonna be a long, lonely life. Now, “snaps & buckles & things” are the links to the small stories that also make me laugh.

Instant Karma Gonna Get You - Jerk tries to drive through giant snowman not realizing it was built on a tree stump

Poorly Researched Men’s Fiction by McSweeney’s Evan Allgood

PopQuiz, Hotshot! - How Open Minded Are You? (I’m radically open minded!)

If you scored high on the quiz above, you may be happy to hear your partner probably wants a kinkier sex life

TV’s The Office helped a Tucson, Arizona man with the last name Scott save a woman’s life

Strangest Reader Submission of the Week :: Thanks Reader Tony Clayton for submitting The Cleverlys performing “Gangham Style”.

I will sing nothing else all week.

"I don't really go out at all."  -- Jack Kerouac

Culture Vulture

Design - I had no idea my family room was Nordic Noir until I read Tiffany Lewis’ nice piece about 2019 trends in interior design over on Spacify.com.

Science - A fascinating new study claims to link gum disease as the root cause of Alzheimer’s Disease.

Goods - It’s a date! Check out this scrolling calendar that spans an entire decade. Check out more of our favorite goods here.

Food & Drink - Non-Alcoholic bars are a thing, but how do they work?

Travel - If you’re both an avid traveler and a social media influencer (not to mention somewhat of a cheap skate), Amtrak Is Searching for Travel-Lovers to Ride Its Most Scenic Train Routes for Free

Books - I’m in a literary lighter fare mood lately. Currently, I’m reading Dry by Neal & Jarrod Shusterman. It’s a true story about what happened when we all ran out of water. I also recently finished The Bomb Maker by Thomas Perry. I recommend both if you’re looking for a book that’s both entertaining and fast moving. Get more book recommendations here.

Recommendations

True Crime TV :: 3 Excellent docs To Watch

1) The Staircase :: Streaming on Netflix - Accident or murder? Author Michael Peterson claims to find his wife’s bloody body at the bottom of the staircase inside their home. The police arrive and immediately become suspicious. The events of this documentary take place between the years of 2001 and 2018. I couldn’t decide the entire time watching this doc whether or not the accused, Michael Peterson, was someone I should feel sorry for or someone I should be scared to death of.

2) Making A Murderer, Season 2 :: Streaming On Netflix - Like everyone else who watched the first season of Making A Murderer, I was pissed off on behalf of the accused. I thought the defense team did a pretty decent job on behalf of Steven Avery, but he was convicted despite their efforts due to a corrupt justice system in the state of Wisconsin. However, after watching an even more infuriating season two of the series, Avery’s new attorney, Kathleen Zellner makes it clear just how incompetent Avery’d defense team were and presents a very logical alternative explanation to the crime and those involved in the ongoing coverup.

3) The Jinx :: Streaming on HBO - This is one of the craziest docs you will ever watch. The story delves into the strange history of real estate heir Robert Durst, long suspected in the still-unsolved 1982 disappearance of his wife as well as the subsequent murders of family friend Susan Berman and neighbor Morris Black. It features an extended, revealing interview with Durst himself. He’s hard not to watch. The final moments of this doc are guaranteed to leave you sitting there with your mouth agape.

Some Long Reads

Some private colleges are doing the unthinkable: Slashing Tuition Prices

"Fox will always be best known for his Back to the Future films and his other acting roles — that's only natural. But his most important legacy is the Fox Foundation, the model it created, and the hope it has given to people who have Parkinson's disease." Joe Nocera in Bloomberg: The Michael J. Fox Foundation Gets Results

2019 Seems like the perfect year to begin using a search engine that does not track you. Nothing Can Stop Google. DuckDuckGo Is Trying Anyway

I used to go into people’s homes for a living as well, so I totally related to this story: I Was A Cable Guy. I Saw The Worst Of America.

Aeon - The Marvel of the Human Dad

Check out more Long Reads in our Mental Yoga Archive

Encore :: New Songs We Love This Week featuring new songs by Over The Rhine, Jenny Lewis, Florence + The Machine, Lady Lamb, Phoebe Bridgers, Conor Oberst & More

Ventipop #233

-xxx-