#I went out of the and got worried I’d complete it on the 12 hour drive

[idkwhyimhere5462]

To commemorate the completion of my fic “Lost and Found”, I threw Vex and Ice Emperor into a ditch.

[erospandemos]

Umbrella Thief

Hanni x Reader

Length: 4.2k

With the help of beta-reader @leafostuff

A series of unfortunate events leads you to share the same hotel room as your umbrella thief.

Why did you even agree to come to the school trip? You asked yourself. How did you get the splendid idea to join this little stupid event? The day had been nothing but rain, delayed transportation, closed museums, tasteless food, and now that it was… You put your hand in your pocket, stuck to your thigh, soaking wet from all the rain, and reached for the phone. Fortunately, it was still working. 12 pm.

The teachers failed to contact the bus and everyone had to walk back to the hotel, which was an hour away from the restaurant, and without an umbrella. Someone stole your umbrella. You left it near your bag as you went to the bathroom and when you came back, poof, it disappeared—just as it started to rain. Everyone was too worried about themselves and going back to the hotel, so you were forgotten and had to walk all the way under the pouring rain.

You sighed, for the nth time, and waited for the teachers to announce the pairings for the hotel rooms. As they started calling for everyone and seeing couple by couple leaving the reception, running in excitement to their little cove, you got impatient. You silently accepted that you’d be the last one. The problem was when they didn’t call you at all.

“Excuse me, Miss Kim. What about my room?” you asked politely.

“Yeah, about that…” she started. She patted her head with an apologetic expression. “Someone made a mistaking while booking the room and you’ll have to share it with someone from the other class that joined us.”

“What do you mean someone made a mistake?”

“We actually were one room short. I just asked for the last room they got left,” the teacher admitted. She took out the card to access your room and gave it to you. “I don’t know who the other person was but, here you go.”

You found your place by looking at the number on the sign beside the stairs. In front of your door was waiting an oddly familiar girl. Her height was average, her hair was black, and decorated her round face with straight bangs. Her clothes were baggy and looked to be trendy, new jeans and a big hoodie, and they were almost completely dry.

After looking at her enough, you realized you actually knew her name. Hanni Pham. She was your crush, what were the chances she’d be here to share the room with you? You couldn’t absolutely give her any hints or make her realize you might’ve liked her.

“Hi, Hanni.”

“Oh, hello, how do you know my name?” she replied with a raised eyebrow. Shoot. Think of an excuse, quick, say something.

“I mean, you must be Hanni, right? My teacher told me I’d be sharing my room with you, did she tell you?”

“Ah, that thing, yes. Well, good to meet you…”

You couldn’t help but nervously glance at her—she was way prettier in person—and your cheeks got warmer, you felt embarrassed since you were dripping water all over the floor and she was in the same room as you. It was the most unluckiest encounter you could have hoped for. Your chances were thrown out the window at this point. The first time you got to have a proper conversation with her was when you looked your worst.

It’s just a night, you repeat in your head. Just a night. Eight hours or something.

She swiped the card and let you both go inside.

Hanni smiled and joked with her vibrant joyful voice, “Damn, did Zeus have a grudge against you? You’re drenched! Here, take this towel,” she said.

“Actually,” you started, recalling everything that happened before, “Can you believe it? Someone actually stole my umbrella!”

Hanni noticed how frustrated you were and answered as sympathetically as she could, “No way! Who would do such a thing? They must be the raincoat industry's secret undercover agent.”

“Oh, definitely!” you laughed. “They probably have a whole stash of stolen umbrellas hidden away somewhere.”

The girl laughed too, interrupted by a soundless hiccup, and rubbed the back of her neck. “Yeah, it’s such a shame that people can’t be trusted these days.”

“It’s incredible! I left it beside my bag… I just left for two minutes and… Wait,” you stopped for a moment and looked at the umbrella peaking from her half-opened backpack. Almost ironically, it fell to the floor and you recognize it. There was no doubt. It was yours.

“That looks an awful lot like my umbrella.”

“What do you mean?” she stutters, as her eyes start to flicker. “Yeah, uhm, it’s a coincidence. I mean, who hasn’t had the same umbrella, right?” Hanni raised her shoulders and hands in a innocent shrug but failed to look at you in the eyes.

You raised an eyebrow. “Oh, really? Coincidence? So you’re telling me that my umbrella magically walked out of my hands and into yours?”

Finally, she sighed with guilt. “Okay, fine,” she admitted. “You caught me. But in my defense, it was raining, and I was unprepared!”

“Unprepared? So, stealing my umbrella was your brilliant solution?”

“I panicked!” Hanni sheepishly replied. “It was a spur-of-the-moment decision.” She stopped and raised her eyes from the floor to look at you. “I’m sorry.”

“Whatever,” you said. “Buy me lunch tomorrow and I’ll forgive you.” You pick up the umbrella and take your card out. You put it on the sensor but it wasn’t working. No wonder, it was dripping wet and you couldn’t dry it on your clothes which weren’t any less drenched. Hanni took it from your hands, brushing your fingers for an instant. You held your breath. Why were you getting nervous from her? She was a criminal! 

“Okay, let’s go inside,” Hanni said, forcing a smile. “Wow, it’s quite a nice room. Quite spacious,” she commented when she stepped inside the room. Her eyes were open wide, her mouth slightly open, childishly surprised and excited. 

“Oh, even a king-size bed. I got dips on that,” she said. “Where’s the second one though?” It was then that the realization dawned on you. A boy, a girl, one room, one bed. That’s how you become a father. Wait, no, that’s wrong. Your brain wasn’t working correctly, not at all. 

“I’ll sleep on the floor, don’t worry.”

“Huh? What are you talking about? You can’t sleep on the ground,” Hanni gave you a weird look. “It’s been raining all day, there isn’t even a mattress… you would catch a cold.”

“It’s fine, it’s fine.”

“This is not happening,” she said. “You are already drenched because of me… you’ll definitely die if you sleep on the floor.” You were already taking the blankets out of the closet and making a little makeshift bed in the corner in the room when Hanni stopped you and forcefully pulled them out of your hands. “What do you think you’re doing?” the girl jeered. “I’m not that much of a monster to let you sleep on the ground, you idiot.”

“You’re a girl, Hanni. I’m a boy.”

“It’s okay, we can talk to the teachers tomorrow and ask to get another room or a second bed. It’s just one night. I wonder where you are bothered. Are you nervous because I’m too pretty?”

You laugh loudly. “I just don’t want to sleep next to a thief.”

“Hey! I already apologized!” Hanni hissed and pouted. You stared at her cheeks, puffing out to two soft and round mochis. Damn it. Your weakness. You couldn’t get angry at her while she was acting this cute. 

“Okay, okay. It doesn’t matter now,” you said. “So, do you have some sleep attire?�� It was already too late, both of you were tired. You had to get some sleep before the next day of walking.

“Oh, look at you caring so much for a thief…” she grinned. 

“What—” you cleared your throat. “What are you saying?”

“You almost sound boyfriend-material,” Hanni chuckled with amusement. “Sorry, are you embarrassed?” 

Your pulse jittered somewhere around the 140 mark. Hanni must have noticed it and was having a blast teasing you. “I’m not embarrassed, these are just basic manners. This is what every gentleman would do.”

“Exhibit A.”

“Ugh,” you sigh. “Just get over it.” You took your stuff out and went to take a shower. You were a bit uncomfortable showing yourself in pajamas but it wasn’t like you could do anything else. The real problem was Hanni was done. She came out of the bathroom with a thin pajama made of short shorts and a small shirt. 

She just stood there being all pretty and shy, playing with the hem of her shirt, her face a little down, looking at you through her eyebrows. 

“Why are you looking at me like that? Am I supposed to say something?” you stuttered, matching her energy. Hanni doesn’t answer, instead, her lips quiver. You quickly ruffle your hair out of frustration. “What is this? This really feels like something a couple would do… Well—you look great,” you admitted. The second, the words came out of your mouth, you realize you made an enormous mistake. You quickly raise your head and look at Hanni, she’s already giving you the vilest of smugs, her embarrassment having disappeared completely.

“Heh,” she breathes. You close your eyes to prepare for what she’s going to say next.

“Have you been picturing me in sleepwear?” she giggles. 

“No! I haven’t been picturing you in sleepwear. Get over yourself.

Hanni lowered her eyes to the floor, clutching her shirt and tightening her shirt with her hands. 

You couldn’t help but look at her tremble a little. “It's pretty cold couldn't you bring something longer? I mean, look at your body. It's full of goosebumps.”

“No, I thought this would have been fine but turns out that—hey! You’re staring at my body!” 

“What's up? I didn't look at your body inappropriately. I just noticed you had goosebumps.”

Hanni scuffs but you ignore her. Instead, you took a blanket and wrap her with it. She was startled at first, widening her eyes and glancing at you with a questioning glare, but then she just relaxed and covered herself better with it. 

“Let's finally get this over with. At least the bed is comfy.”

“Okay, but,” Hanni started, raising a finger in the air and dramatically lowering it down to draw a line from the top of the bed all the way down, slicing it like a sandwich. “Don’t dare to cross the side of the bed though.” 

“I won’t, I won’t… Good night.”

“Good night.”

And that was it. You were finally going to sleep. You closed your eyes and tried to forget that you were sleeping next to your crush and you succeeded for a second, until she started moving around. At first she just touched you with her foot. Then she literally pushed you off the bed. Sometimes, she’d wake up, holding her eyes half open half closed and scold you like, “I told you not to cross the line. Stop touching me.” You were too sleepy and didn’t have the heart to fight back so you just kept sleeping.

The worse was when she threw her arm over and slapped you. You got up and stared at her, debating whether to slap her back or make her sleep on the floor. You looked back at the clock. 1:42 am. You sighed and just put the blanket back on her. 

The sixth time you woke up, it wasn’t for some unknown violent act. Instead, you felt a really warm softness on your back. You slowly turned around and saw Hanni hugging your back. Her arm was over and under yours, clinching your abdomen and squishing her face on you. 

Very slowly, you took her arm and put it behind you, so she could roll over. You let out a satisfied sigh when you succeed, only for her to go back at hugging you, this time tighter, on top of that she threw her leg over and koala hugged you. 

Hanni had a wide grin. 

You decided to enjoy yourself. Afterall, feeling her embrace and her low breath on your back was quite relaxing and most of all, it was really comfortable. In fact, you fell asleep fairly quick, imagining you were her boyfriend. 

After an hour, it was Hanni’s turn to wake up.

Someone was blasting music from the room next door, she wasn’t sure if it was from above or from the right but it surely wasn’t quiet. Hanni yawned, stroking her cheek on her very big hugging pillow, annoyed by the sudden disturbance that disrupted her very comfortable slumber. 

But then her pillow started moving and breathing; and she realized it wasn’t a pillow at all. 

“Oh no, oh no,” she whispered, panicked and flustered. You were still sleeping. Good. She peered through the dark to see the clock on the other side, it was three in the morning. “Stay asleep.”

Hanni started debating with herself on whether it might have been you or her who started cuddling. Well, she was definitely the one strapped to you but you were holding her arm too. Maybe, just maybe, it could have been a reflex. No, it was definitely on her. 

“Wow, you smell good,” she let her thoughts wander. “Nope, stop it.” But that really wasn’t the moment. She had to slip out of there before you woke up and then it would have gotten really awkward. Hanni raised her arm and leg, trying to roll on the side but you started tossing and turning. I took a couple of turns and now you were back in the starting position but this time, you were hugging her a bit more. 

And she didn’t mind.

Her bargaining stopped when she realized that after all she didn’t really want to detach herself from you because she was cold, you were warm, and soft, and nice… and cute. Again, Hanni couldn’t stop but let her mind race and enjoy the moment too much. “Oh my god, what's wrong with me?” she cursed herself. “Okay, well, you should stop pulling me closer, because that feels really nice. I can hear your heartbeat.”

Hanni liked you too and she knew it since when her friends invaded your classroom, dragging her together with them. She fell for you without knowing, you slowly crept inside her heart when you treated her so nicely and affectionately, not looking down on her nor admiring her too much. Sometimes you’d sit beside her, when her friends were talking with other friends—leaving her alone—and make her laugh during those very somber days. Hanni fell for you, but she never considered that you could be anything more but now it was too hard to ignore—glued to you—she was very aware of her blossoming feelings.

You woke up. And in the spur of the moment Hanni decided to accuse you of everything.

“What are you doing?” you asked.

“Oh my god, did you cuddle me in your sleep?”

“I didn’t mean to… Wait, you’re the one hugging me.”

“Hey, you know, it's not that big of a deal that you, like, held me in your sleep.”

“It’s you.”

“No, it isn’t. Hey, this ain't on me. This is 100 % on you, so yeah. And you've got your arm on me. I couldn't have done that. That's like pretty damning evidence right there.”

“You’re so red, Hanni.”

“Oh? Then why is your heart beating so fast?”

“You’re literally attached to me like a koala…”

“Hey, if you like want to confess something, that's totally cool.”

“It sounds like you do.”

“No, I don’t. I don't have anything. I'm not hiding anything. I was just giving you a safe space to get it off your chest.”

“Get off what my chest?”

“Well, you're hiding that you're like super into me or something stupid like that.” Hanni concluded. “Anyways, just go back to sleep, will you?”

As Hanni drifted again into a deep sleep, she started mumbling incoherently. You weren’t asleep yet and just laid there, debating whether you should tell her to shut up, maybe to tease her, or to continue listening to her. Suddenly, a brilliant crossed your mind: recording her. That was the proper revenge for the hell she made you go through that morning. You couldn't resist the opportunity, you slowly got up and took the phone without making a single noise and pressed the record button. 

To your surprise, Hanni muttered your name and then, "You're the best. I love you so much."

Your eyes widened in disbelief. 

Hanni, her voice filled with affection. You have never heard her talk this nicely and you were pretty sure it was directed to you. "I wish I could marry you. You're just so cute." Her words were confused but you could make out what she was saying pretty clearly. 

Your eyes turned into a look of panic when Hanni whispered, "I wish I could tell you how I feel."

You realized that you might have uncovered something you weren’t supposed to. You decided to end the recording, but just as you reached for your phone, Hanni mumbled again, "I wish I could kiss you."

Now you were in full panic mode. He had no idea Hanni felt this way about you. You quickly ended the recording and put your phone away, feeling a mix of excitement and trepidation.

Your heart was beating so fast, that alone could’ve woken her up.

Moments later, Hanni stirred and woke up, her eyes fluttering open. She yawned and stretched, completely unaware of what you just did. Then she noticed your face, completely shocked and scared, you were sweating bullets and you were sure she could see a couple of droplets in the moonlight.

"What's going on? What’s with that face?"

You tried to play it cool. "Oh, it's nothing, Hanni. Just a weird dream, that's all."

Hanni wasn’t really buying it but she was to sleepy to really care and turned around. That’s when she saw your phone still on, the big pause button and the soundwave of the recording up. Hanni was sleepy but she wasn’t dumb—the smartest kid in the class earned that name for a reason—she snatched the phone up and put it to her ear. You cursed yourself for making such a mistake: why would you ever leave your phone like that?! Hanni woke up so suddenly and you had no choice but to drop everything you were doing and try to look like you were sleeping but that was a dead giveaway.

Her eyes widened in shock as she listened to herself confess her feelings for you. Mortified, she turned to you, her face bright red. "You recorded me talking in my sleep?!"

You chuckled nervously. "I didn't mean to. It was just a joke, I swear."

Your hand suddenly snatched the phone from hers. It was instinctive. You didn’t why you did it, it was a deep feeling inside you. But Sarah was having none of it. She leaped up from her blanket.  "Give me that phone, you bastard! You have to delete it right now!"

You were surprised by her choice of words but didn’t have time to think about it, you tried to evade her, but Hanni was quick. She chased you around the room and your finger was trying to save the audio to your drive. But running and swiping wasn’t exactly easy, and you exited the app instead of saving the evidence. 

And that was your second mistake: leaving your instagram open. 

Hanni successfully tackled you, making you fall down and your phone flew out of hand. Hanni catched it and ran to the corner of the room, near the door. 

She looked at the screen trying to find where to delete the audio but then she saw a picture of herself. It was her instagram account. Her most recent post had a like. Sure, he must’ve liked the photo randomly, she thought to herself but when she scrolled down and saw more hearts, some questions quickly started forming in her mind.

“Hey… you certainly liked a lot of my photos.”

“Hanni—w-what are you doing? What are you looking at?”

“Your instagram,” Hanni quickly said, busy scrolling on your phone. “Oh my god… you liked all of my posts. You even saved them.”

“Hanni please give me my phone back,” you begged her, trying to take your phone from her but she was faster than you. 

“Let’s talk,” she said in a serious tone.

“Fine,” you agreed.

“You have a little too many pictures of me. What’s that about?”

“You said you wanted to marry me in your sleep.”

“Wha—you were saying you wanted to confess to me to your friend!”

“You watched my DMs?! What do you think you’re doing, Hanni Pham?! You’re violating my privacy!”

“Violating my privacy my ass! You literally recorded me in my sleep, just shut up.”

“Please, Hanni, put it down. I’m going to delete the audio and we’ll forget whatever happened today.”

“You really say the most random stuff to your friend. ‘Hanni is so cute, she is so pretty I can’t stop staring at her…’ Let me see some more.”

“Hanni please I’ll do whatever you want, just stop.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

“Then say you like me,” Hanni said. She was trying her hardest to look threatening, to emanate a bit of authority but her bright red face showed that you she just as fluttered as you were. “I have seen everything, you might just admit it at this point.”

“Hanni, when you were sleeping you literally said—”

“If you don’t say it, I’m going to post the screenshots of your chat on the class chat.”

“NO! Okay, I’ll say it,” you reluctantly agreed. You took a deep breath and finally spoke, “I… I like you, Hanni.”

Hanni’s face turned into the biggest smile you have ever seen. “Say it again, I didn’t hear it.”

You sighed. “I really like you Hanni.”

“Is it the truth?”

“It… is. Yes.”

“Why?”

“Hanni stop being evil! You have already read everything in that fucking chat. There’s literally everything there—I said it, will you put my phone down now?”

“Okay, it’s fine,” she said and put the phone on the desk. You were to let out a sigh of relief but it remained trapped in your throat when Hanni said, “I like you too.”

“You what?”

“I figured, you already heard me saying it, so I’m gonna say it for real now. I like you too, a lot.”

You two started to laugh awkwardly to fill the silence between her words. When you stopped, the silence was even louder than before. You were looking at the floor and Hanni was looking at the ceiling. 

“What do we do now?” she spoke.

“I don’t know.”

“Shall we sleep.”

“I don’t think we have any other option.”

You two climbed on the bed, hopefully for the last time that night. You laid there still, miles apart from eachother, for several minutes, without anyone saying anything. Hanni decided to speak first, “How long have you liked me for?”

“Oh, we’re starting with those questions?”

“I think I deserve to know.”

“Well… it was since I’ve seen you for the first time in your class.”

“Oh, that long ago?”

“What about you?”

“Since last month.”

“That’s cool.”

Hanni turned to you, her black eyes searching yours, and with a nervous smile, she asked, “Can I ask you something?”

You turned your head and met her gaze, “Of course. What’s on your mind?”

Hanni hesitated for a moment, then took a deep breath. “Why do you like me?”

Your brows furrowed in confusion and you let out a happy sigh. “What do you mean, why do I like you. Hanni, there are so many reasons. Your smile, your laugh, the way you make everyone around you happy, your kindness, your intelligence… I can’t pinpoint a specific reason. Whenever I see your face, I feel little better, and I look forward to seeing you again the next day. That’s it really. Why do I love you? Because you make me live with more passion.”

Hanni couldn’t resist, your words were getting to her so she pounced on you, pulling you in a tight hug. You were started but just accepted it, because you loved it. You turned around, and hugged her back, leaving her head on your chest, just to get back at her. 

“This is exactly why I like you so much,” she managed to say groggily.

A kiss was too soon, for each other, so when Hanni got close enough to your face, you nuzzled your noses and pinched her cheeks. They were extremely soft, they were chubby although her face didn’t look like it. The velvety texture of her skin was surprising, it was as if touching a delicate, plush petal. Her cheeks dimpled with the sweetest, childlike charm, and her silly laughter filled you with joy, making it impossible for you to resist her tenderness.

Hanni was blushing madly but she loved it.

“I guess we kind of are really like a couple now huh?” she said. “A thunderstorm outside, cuddling in a king-sized bed. I... I guess I do kind of like staying with you like this. Just a little bit. I guess this wasn't too bad.”

“We’re gonna talk about this tomorrow, let’s sleep for now,” you suggest.

“Yeah, good night.”

THE END

Written, 11 July 2023 - 02 October 2023

[daresplaining]

An Interview with Christine Hanefalk

Christine Hanefalk created her blog, The Other Murdock Papers, in 2007 as a place to discuss and share her interest in Matt Murdock and his world. Over the years, she has become one of the most compelling and influential voices within the Daredevil fan community, even making a cameo appearance in the comic itself in Daredevil volume 3 #31. In 2022 she published Being Matt Murdock, a passion project centered around an area of particular fascination: Matt's legendary hypersenses. The book weaves real-world science into the vast Daredevil canon to explore the notion that Daredevil's powers, though superhuman, are not – and do not need to be – as divorced from reality as one might think.

Christine was kind enough to answer my questions about the book, and about her nearly twenty-year-long fascination with the Man Without Fear. Read the interview below...

Daresplaining: I know many people will be familiar with your blog and your longtime interest in Matt Murdock's sensory world, but could you say a little about how Being Matt Murdock first came about, and how you approached writing and researching it?

Christine Hanefalk: I started The Other Murdock Papers in late 2007 and gradually allowed myself to start writing more about the scientific and sensory aspects of Daredevil as time went on. I was really worried it might turn people off, but the opposite was true and people really seemed to dig my deep dives. And so as far back as around 2012 I decided that, one of these days, I was going to try to write a whole book on the subject. 

Despite the fact that it took me ten years to complete it, with most of the work being concentrated to the final 12-18 months before publication, I had actually done some writing early-on. I think I had about half of chapters one (on the literary history) and seven (on the sense of smell) written several years ago, along with various snippets and notes that I had filed away and was able to work into some of the other chapters. I had also consistently been keeping an eye out for anything new and interesting in the peer reviewed academic literature, and managed to amass – and read through – quite a collection of books on sensory neuroscience over the years.

When that “now or never” moment finally arrived, it lined up well with a period of time in my life where I was able to cut back on regular work and devote most of my time and energy to the book. I went over all of the stuff I’d already looked at before but with more focus, and got myself reacquainted with subjects I hadn’t really touched since college, such as thermodynamics. I also reread nearly all of the comics, taking very detailed notes on how and when Daredevil used his senses to get a better idea of the overall pattern. It’s not an understatement to say that I’ve spent upwards of 2,000 hours on this project over the years.

D: I understand that you were introduced to Daredevil through the 2003 movie. What drew you so strongly to Matt as a character? How much of a role has your fascination with his powers played in your continuing interest over the years?

CH: I grew up reading comics and enjoying sci-fi and superhero movies as a kid. I was born in 1977, so both the original Star Wars trilogy and the Superman franchise loomed large in my life when I got old enough to watch them. And while I eventually stopped reading superhero comics, I always had a special place in my heart for the genre and had a certain fascination with the general idea of superheroes. That eventually steered me in the direction of the Daredevil movie when it was released in video stores (I don’t think it even went up in theaters in my native Sweden). 

The specifics of Matt Murdock’s power set was definitely one thing that gave this character an unusual kind of appeal to me. I had always been interested in the science of the senses – and what happens when one is missing – and had even written a paper on sensory compensation for my neuroscience class while I was an exchange student at the University of Rochester around the turn of the millennium. 

There were additional things that made Daredevil interesting of course, such as his career as a lawyer, his overall personality, and the general mood of the world he inhabited, but the combination of his power set and my already having a soft spot for superheroes definitely piqued my interest right away. Within a few months of learning that Daredevil even existed, I had read pretty much everything he had ever appeared in.

D: Do you have a favorite sense, both in terms of your own research and as a Daredevil fan?

CH: I think I probably enjoyed researching hearing the most since there’s so much to cover. It’s also fascinating to me how hearing can be called on to perform spatial functions despite having this deceptively simple, linear, time-dependent form in terms of how it is received by the ear. The fact that it’s possible, even for quite ordinary humans, to sort of “see-hear” silent objects is fascinating to me.

However, if we look at Daredevil, I’d say that hearing has tended to be overused compared to both smell and touch. While hearing is often called on to perform near transcendental duties, smell tends to be forgotten by a lot of writers, probably in large part due to the fact that we humans seem to be less conscious of smells than we are of other sensory input. For the entire history of the comic, Daredevil has often gone several issues without any reference to smell, and the things he’s been smelling have often tended to not be very interesting. It’s always a treat to see smell being used in creative ways.

Still, the sense I would be even more interested in seeing more of in Daredevil is probably touch, which I also think is used less than it could be. Sure, there’s plenty of reading by touch (print or braille), but I still think we might be underestimating the importance of touch in Matt’s life, due in part to the high expectations of the radar sense (whatever we make of it). I view the “radar” as absolutely vital to everything Matt does as Daredevil, but I also see a much greater potential role for touch to work synergistically with such an ability.

D: Do you have a favorite new fact that you learned over the course of researching this book?

CH: Yes. I do think my coming across Jacob Twersky’s writing helped solidify the idea I had about how the concept of the radar sense may have originated. Blinded in childhood, Twersky would go on to become a champion collegiate wrestler, and later a historian and author. I read both his 1954 novel The Face of the Deep and his 1959 autobiography The Sound of the Walls while working on my own book. The way Twersky describes his sense of the obstacles around him in The Sound of the Walls struck me as shockingly similar to early descriptions of Daredevil’s radar sense, including the use of the term “radar” itself. 

While I can’t know for sure whether anyone at Marvel was familiar with Twersky’s writing, it’s worth noting that he was a New Yorker and a contemporary of Stan Lee and many of the others in the Marvel bullpen back in the day. Whatever the case may be, it’s clear that the Marvel creators were not the first to use the word “radar” to describe the “obstacle sense of the blind,” as it was often known at the time. Over the years, and especially after having studied the early issues in great detail, I’ve definitely come to favor the idea that the “radar sense” wasn’t meant to be understood as a literal (electromagnetic) radar, though I should add that the understanding of the radar seems to have been all over the place for most of Daredevil history. Reading Twersky definitely added considerable weight to my interpretation of the early radar sense.

I also had some favorite epiphanies connected to the radar sense, one in particular which I think explains why Daredevil’s very particular way of being blind is often so difficult to make sense of for writers and fans alike. I recently wrote a rather lengthy post covering much of that stuff.

D: While taking a renewed deep dive into the source material, did you find yourself changing your opinion on anything?

CH: I should preface this by saying that there are definitely things I’ve changed my mind about over the years, even before I started most of the work on the book. I mentioned above that my understanding of the radar sense has shifted gradually, away from the more literal take the name suggests. Looking at the comics very carefully gives you even more of a sense that pinning down anything concrete here is going to be really difficult.

Revisting the comics has also given me a new appreciation for certain runs, such as the pre-Miller Bronze Age issues. This process has also led me to reassess my earlier assumptions that Daredevil’s senses have gone through some kind of steady evolution from Silver Age goofy to modern and grounded. This really isn’t the case, especially when you exclude some of the early outliers. You can find plenty of examples of both nonsensical and absolutely brilliant “senses writing” throughout the history of the comic, but I wouldn’t say that the treatment of the senses, or Matt’s blindness, have necessarily become more grounded on average.

D: You go into great detail about how much of Matt's sensory world has not been explored yet on the page. Is there any particular, specific experience that you would love to see depicted in future runs or adaptations? 

CH: Contrary to what people might expect of me given my priors, I don’t necessarily think that there needs to be more stories about his senses, blindness and so on. However, I think these aspects of the character should be viewed as absolutely essential to how Daredevil is written, no matter what the particular storyline happens to be. I make a point in the book about how Daredevil is an amazingly interesting thought experiment, and I really believe that. So I’d really just wish for writers to be more comfortable running their scenes and stories through whatever their own version of this thought experiment happens to be and making sure that what’s on the page makes sense in light of that.

D: While researching other superpowered blind characters from the comics world and beyond, did you discover any new favorites? Can we expect a spin-off blog about Doctor Mid-Nite?

CH: Ha ha, no. It’s enough of a challenge keeping up with The Other Murdock Papers these days. As regular readers have undoubtedly noticed, I’ve been considerably less active there in recent years, having to do with work on the book as well as other real life stuff that’s competing for my time and attention. I do expect it to live on for many more years though, and I do update every once in a while. I’m definitely looking forward to writing about Daredevil: Born Again when that comes out, and we also have Echo coming out in early 2024.

D: What is your biggest Daredevil sensory pet peeve?

CH: To be honest, what bothers me more than all of the silly things put together is the suggestion that Daredevil can “see better than all of us,” is “not really blind,” and so on. As much as this might sound like the whole point of the character, it also takes much of the complexity out of what Daredevil does and how he does it. As blanket statements go, it just doesn’t hold up to scrutiny, unless we radically redefine what sight is, and what the other senses – even when heightened – actually do. 

D: I love the scene in volume 3 #26 when Matt evades Ikari by changing his heart rate, even though logic would suggest that Ikari could still track him using his other senses, or even just other sounds. Do you have any favorite DD moments where you let sensory weirdnesses slide just because the scene is so compelling? 

CH: While it’s a whole issue rather than a single scene, I really enjoyed what Mark Waid and Chris Samnee were attempting to do with the story that sees Matt attempt to escape Latveria while losing all of his senses. The scene I’m choosing to let slide here is when Matt seems to develop some kind of heat vision (it’s frankly unclear what it’s supposed to be) as his body tries to compensate. Whenever you see hints of thermal imaging in Daredevil, that’s an indication that he’s doing something that’s much further removed from how his senses should work than most people realize. It’s not something that follows naturally from heightened senses and is more like an entirely different kind of superpower. 

I definitely tend to give a writer much more slack when 1) I'm enjoying the writing overall, and 2) said writer compensates to some degree by doing a good job of exploring, or at the very least remembering, that Matt is in fact blind.

D: What are your hopes for this book in regards to the impact it might have on how Daredevil is written in the future? What are the key takeaways that you hope fans and/or potential future Daredevil creators pull from it? 

CH: If people reading this interview haven’t read Being Matt Murdock they may get the impression that it’s all a long list of “don’ts” or “can’ts,” but that’s a far cry from what I’ve attempted to do. I remember reading another superhero science book a few years ago that seemed to have as its central premise that “superpowers are stupid,” which didn’t feel particularly gratifying. I don’t see it that way at all. Sure, there are certainly characters whose powers read more like magic than anything else, but I don’t necessarily mind that. We don’t have to hold every character to any kind of scientific standard, and there definitely comes a point when taking this too far just takes the fun out of it. 

When it comes to a character like Daredevil, however, I feel very strongly that bringing science into the picture has the potential to aid in the creative process rather than hinder it. Daredevil is relatively unusual in that he can exist comfortably in a kind of “reality next door.” His powers are not possible in our own universe, but they are not so far removed from our normal understanding of things that we can’t attempt to make sense of them and imagine what life would be like from his perspective. Because while no one has super hearing, most of us do have regular human hearing which detects the measurable and explainable phenomenon of sound. 

There are naturally things about Daredevil that not even loosening the reins of biology will address – for instance, even a science-minded writer is likely going to have to break some of the laws of the physics of sound – but understanding how these phenomena unfold in the real world helps create a good structure for how Daredevil might operate. And I feel like I’ve come pretty close to presenting a coherent “view” of the world from Daredevil’s perspective in this book.

It would definitely be a dream come true to have this book inspire future Daredevil writers, but I obviously don’t have much control over that kind of stuff. I’ve been able to give out plenty of copies to past writers and artists though, ha ha. I would want incoming writers to know that science is their friend. And that understanding some of the science makes Daredevil even more fascinating.

D: If you were given the opportunity to actually experience the world the way Matt does for a day, would you take it?

CH: Absolutely! Mind you, I probably wouldn’t want to do it for longer than a day or two and I very much appreciate my standard issue eyesight, but I think it would be fascinating to explore his world. Though in this thought experiment, I would assume that I could experience things the way he does after years of getting used to it so it’s not too much of a shock to the system. Unlike what happened in the delightfully ridiculous story where Daredevil switched bodies with Doctor Doom, and Doom appeared to adjust on the spot and couldn’t even figure out that he was now blind, I would expect it to take months or even years to learn to navigate the world the way Matt does (superhero acrobatics not included). And it’s not just about being able to integrate different amounts and kinds of sensory information. It’s also a matter of acquiring the strategies that allow for combining this sensory information with real-world knowledge in order to handle the many ambiguities which remain in a world organized around people with a more standard set of human senses.

D: Do you have any book/article/etc. recommendations for someone wanting to expand their reading on the topics explored in the book?

CH: Among the books I’ve read that I would recommend for general audiences is David Eagleman’s The Brain: The Story of You as a good introduction to the brain. If people want to progress from there I also recommend Brainscapes by Rebecca Schwarzlose. I don’t make any explicit references to Brainscapes in my book, but it’s a very solid read for anyone who wants to learn more about the role of “brain maps” in guiding our experiences. For the senses themselves, there’s The Universal Sense by Seth S. Horowitz (about hearing), and What the Nose Knows by Avery Gilbert.

Another book I read years ago that is sort of “on-topic” is A Sense of the World: How a Blind Man Became History’s Greatest Traveler by Jason Roberts. It’s not one I reference in my own book, but I guess it’s “Daredevil adjacent.” It tells the absolutely fascinating true story of James Holman (1786-1857).

D: Beyond Being Matt Murdock and your blog, is there anything else you would like to promote/mention here?

CH: Not for the time being. Maybe there’ll be a second edition of Being Matt Murdock one day, but I don’t have any such plans for the foreseeable future. What I would like to do is take the opportunity to encourage people to tackle their own passion projects. For me, finalizing this project came down to realizing that if I were to be told I only had a year to live, I would want to prioritize finishing this book. That’s how much it meant to me. And when you feel that way about something, try to do whatever you can – as much as your current circumstances will allow – to give yourself that gift. Tackling something like this can be very daunting, and I definitely had to get over my fears of making mistakes and putting myself out there in order to do this. But I’m really glad that I finally did.

For more fun facts and information on Being Matt Murdock, and to purchase your own copy, visit www.scienceofdaredevil.com

For more of Christine Hanefalk's writing, visit www.theothermurdockpapers.com

[alexthefly]

Snakes on a Thunderbird

For @godsliltippy for TAG MiniBang 2023 (@tagminibang)

Inspired by this adorable piece of Fishtank art here. (@tippystreasurebox)

Trigger warning for snakes. Also brief mention of animal neglect, plus some minor whump and peril.

As Virgil went through his post-flight checks, Gordon twisted and revelled in the several satisfying pops his back made. 

“Oh god, that is so much better! Want me to crack yours for ya, Virg?”

There was a grumble of disapproval from his right. 

“I’ll pass thanks. Hearing yours was an experience in itself. In fact…” 

His brother reached over and snagged the small metal box Gordon had been carrying on his lap. 

“...perhaps I’d better take that before you do yourself any more damage.”

Gordon rolled his eyes and snatched the box back with perhaps just a little too much snap.

“Right Virgil(!) ‘Cos hauling passengers and crates off of a sinking ship was fine, but this last hundred yards to the rescue centre is where things gets really tricky(!)”

The rescue hadn’t really been all that bad physically. The crates in question had been lighter than expected, though that was because apparently properly feeding the various animals inside had clearly not been much of a priority for the smugglers on board; about as high as safety and ship maintenance had been. And although Gordon’s back was definitely starting to twinge a bit now, he’d have been a lot happier to be a lot achier if it meant those poor creatures had been treated right.

Well, whatever. He’d stayed professional. …Mostly. That Johnny hadn’t mentioned his little brother's prolonged blue streak ricocheting over the comms was likely a sign that he’d felt the same way.

The fact the GDF were already briefed and waiting with an arrest warrant the second they’d touched down was probably another one.

A yellow light broke through his thoughts and dragged him back to the present. He batted the medi-scan away with a grunt.

“Would you quit it, Virg? I’m fine.”

“I’ll be the judge of that.”

Gordon opened his mouth, ready to deliver a witty yet devastating retort, but then thought wiser of it. Better to just let the big guy get it all out of his system. He'd only worry otherwise, and a worried Virgil was a pain in the backside, especially with the flight home and debrief to get through. He closed his mouth and submitted to the inevitable with a huff.

Virgil for his part stayed quiet too as he completed the scan; once it was done, he continued to look Gordon over with the practised eye of both a medic and a big brother.

“Well, Doctor Virgil? Are you done? Can we go now?”

Another moment of scrutiny. Then: 

“You know today was a good day, right?”

Dammit. The big green angst-detector strikes again.

Gordon really didn’t want to talk about it now.

“Whatever you say, bro.”

“I mean it,” Virgil insisted. “You’ve said it yourself - this shelter is the best. They've got the facilities and the expertise; they’ll take good care of all these guys, big and small. And the GDF will make sure the people that did this get what's coming to them."

“Uh-huh.”

"Gordy, the good guys won. Take the win.”

Honestly it didn’t feel like a win. Not even a tiny one. The memory of all those sad little eyes was too raw. It was going to take a lot for it to fade into the background, and he just didn't have the energy right now. All he wanted was to get everything unloaded, go home, swim ‘til he couldn't think anymore and then crawl into bed and sleep for 12 hours.

"Virg, could we please do the pep talk another time? The shelter staff are waiting for us."

A little frown appeared on his brother's brow, but he sighed and nodded.

"Are they all okay in there?” Virgil asked instead, nodding at the box balancing on Gordon’s dashboard. 

It was an obvious change of subject, but a welcome one. Gordon gave the portable incubator a protective little pat.

“Should be. I candled them earlier and they look good. Not pipped yet, but I think it should be soon.”

He blinked as a sudden thought occurred.

“Actually," he said as he opened the incubator lid and retrieved the covered tray inside, "I’m just gonna check they’ve not been turned mid-flight. I’ve been holding them steady the whole way over, but you never know.”

“I thought you were supposed to turn eggs?” said Virgil with a hint of confusion. He leaned across to watch what Gordon was doing. "Grandpa said it stopped the embryo getting stuck."

“That’s for birds. Snakes are different. All the little veins and stuff are fragile; you flip the egg, the umbilical cord tears away and they die.” 

Gordon gingerly lifted the lid and peered inside. 

"Of course, these guys are almost ready to hatch so I don’t know how much of that appli-”

But the rest of his thought died on his tongue as he lifted the lid and took a look inside.

A beat.

“What?”

“Erm, not sure. Hang on a sec…” Gordon gently slid the eggs to one side of the tray and running his gloved hands very carefully in the sandy substrate below.

"Where are you?" he muttered softly.

"Where's what?" Virgil quickly jumped to his feet, unease radiating from every pore.

"One of the eggs must have hatched in transit," explained Gordon, still rifling through the soft gravel, looking for any flash of movement. "Once the shell breaks they usually take a few hours to come out, but I guess with all the jiggling…"

"Okay, so presumably there should be a snake in there then. Where’s the snake, Gordon?!"

Gordon kept digging, slightly more urgently. 

"Some snakes bury themselves down into the substrate after hatching - it’s a kinda protection thing. They wait there for their first shed, then they come out looking for food."

Virgil reached out gingerly over Gordon's shoulder and picked up the soft and clearly empty egg shell, complete with a neat split down the middle. He held it softly in his hands, turning it over and over as if he might find the wayward snake still clinging to it somewhere.

"Exactly what sort of snakes are these, Gordy?" he asked slowly, deliberately.

"Umm…”

“Gordon!”

“I don’t know! I’m not a snake expert, and you can only tell so much from just the eggshell anyway.” 

He set the tray onto the dashboard and started checking inside the incubator itself, just in case. He could feel heat starting to rise across his cheeks.

“Gords, could it be… poisonous?”

Gordon swallowed back the sour taste in his mouth.

“I don’t know.”

There was a moment of horrible silence as those words sunk in. Of course, the chances of the snake being venomous were slim - only about 10-15% of known species were after all - and in any event their uniforms were designed to withstand pretty much anything, but there was still that tiny sliver of doubt in his mind. Was Brains far-sighted enough to have considered snake fangs as a variable during the testing phase?

Virgil took a step back, eyes darting everywhere, and tapped his wrist controller. 

“I’m not picking anything up. John? Any chance you could run a sweep of the cockpit for… uh… unusual heat signatures?”

“Unusual?” 

John’s projected image leapt out of the dashboard holo’ right in front of Gordon’s face, causing him to almost fall off his chair. 

“What sort of unusual?”

Virgil cleared his throat in a far-too-obviously guilty way. 

“We’ve kind of… misplaced something.”

“O-kaaay… What sort of something?”

Gordon opened his mouth to say… Actually he wasn’t sure what he was going to say, but in any case Virgil got there first.

“Can you just do it please, John?” he asked, brow furrowed. "Now?"

The look John shot them both could have stripped paint, but he turned away and started swiping.

“No unusual readings found,” he said after a few seconds. "Perhaps if I knew what I was looking for…”

Gordon caught Virgil’s eye. Despite his obvious concern about the situation, the big chonk was clearly still trying to cover for him. 

He really was the softest marshmallow.

But as touched as he was, right now the most important thing wasn't avoiding blame; it was finding the snake before anyone got hurt, including the creature itself. There would be time to wriggle out of Scott and John’s inevitable lecture later.

“The signal’s likely very subtle,” he said, drawing John's attention. “He’s cold-blooded, so his core temperature’s gonna be mirroring the immediate environment. Look at components a little below body temperature and check for tiny, unexplained fluctuations.”

“Cold-bl… You lost a reptile?!”

“A snake,” clarified Virgil.

There was a moment while John processed this new information, then he closed his eyes and pinched the top of his nose. 

“Of course it's a snake(!)” He sighed. “EOS? Did you catch all that?”

EOS’s voice rang through clear over the comms. “Yes, John. Checking now…”

“In the meantime,” said John, “I suggest you put your helmets back on, just to be safe. The less exposed skin you two have the better.”

The brothers nodded. 

Gordon set the incubator down and grabbed his helmet from the dash in front of him, just as EOS brought up a schematic of the cockpit onto the screen in front of him.

“There’s a slight irregularity in temperature around the co-pilot’s control panel, but it’s too indistinct to pin down to a specific component.”

Gordon’s eyes darted all over the dashboard in front of him. 

Where?

Scrabbling to push his chair back and get his helmet on, he vaguely heard Virgil say something about lifting the main cover off the console before he was suddenly distracted by a sharp, stabbing pain in his right cheek, just above the jaw.

“Yeow!”

Virgil was by his side immediately, mediscanner in hand. “What?! What is it?”

Gordon remained in his chair, sitting stock still.

"Don’ scan.”

"What?"

"Don' scan. Th' noise'll scare 'im."

Virgil's eyes went wide.

"Where is it?" he whispered, looking him up and down.

“I’z on m’ face."

“What?!?”

“On. M’. Face. W’z inside th’ helmet.”

Virgil and John exchanged a panicked look.

…Yep.

By rights, Gordon should have been scared. After all, there was a chance he could die here; the little danger-noodle might be pumping deadly venom into him by the second. But surprisingly he wasn’t overly worried about that possibility just now. In fact he felt strangely calm and clear-headed. What was done was done after all, and the priority now was to a) not do anything to make the snake strike again (him or Virgil); and b) get it secured.

“Ah’m gonna slowly r’move th’ helmet," he mumbled, trying not to move his mouth too much. "When y’ see ‘im, grab ‘im c’refully b’hind th’ head an’ unhook ‘im.”

Keeping his head stock still, he looked sidelong at his big brother to check he’d understood. Poor Virg looked pale, but he nodded and shifted into position in front of him, mouth set in a grim line. Behind him, John's face was a picture of worry.

“R'dy?” Gordon asked. 

Virgil nodded, hands poised.

He gave a little blink in lieu of a smile. “Okay."

Deep breath.

"One. Two. ‘Hree.”

And slowly he took off his helmet.

Virgil reached forwards and closed his hand next to his face. Gordon's skin pulled painfully for a moment, then released, leaving a sharp echo across his cheek.  

He exhaled in a big whoosh that seemed to come from his very soul, and raised his eyes to finally look on the thing that had bitten him.

“Scanning for a species match now,” said John urgently as Virgil stepped back, holding the offending creature out at arm’s length. “Cross-matching size, markings and-”

“It’s a Children’s Python!”

“A what?” Virgil asked roughly.

John took a massive breath in. “Oh thank god! Are you sure?”

“Certain,” replied Gordon, finding his feet and bouncing over to look a bit closer, all concern for his safety gone. “We had one as a class pet in 5th grade. Native to Northern Australia. Fantastic pets.”

“I can confirm the identification, John” said EOS. “The species is non-venomous.”

All the remaining colour drained from Virgil's face. He lowered himself down shakily into his chair, arm still outstretched. “Well in that case would someone please come and take this thing out of my hand before I have a heart attack?”

“Oops! Yep, give me one second…” 

Gordon grabbed the tray of eggs and fished out a roll of electrical tape from one of his console drawers. 

“This should keep the lid secure until we can get him into the shelter, at least.”

Gordon reached out and gently took hold of the little snake, who had stopped thrashing around and instead seemed content to curl its body gently around his hand. He took a second to admire its beautiful mottled markings in light and dark brown, and the gentle undulation of muscles pulsing as it moved.

"Hey, little guy."

The tiny snake flicked its tongue at him, tasting the air.

Slowly, gently, Gordon encouraged the snake back in the tray, extracted his hand, and then put the lid on and taped it down.

As soon as the tray was closed, John seemed to deflate like he was the one who’d been punctured.

“Please, for the love of god, don’t ever scare me like that again, okay guys? My cortisol levels can't take it."

"Take it easy John," soothed Virgil as he stumbled over to examine Gordon's cheek. "You sit back and have a float and we'll finish up here." 

He took Gordon by the chin and turned his face to the side. 

"...C'mon Blofeld, let's get you cleaned up."

…

Fifteen minutes later and sporting a natty Baby Shark band-aid on his cheek, Gordon skipped across the animal shelter car park towards the front desk. Alongside him, Virgil carried the now-definitely-sealed incubator. (Gordon had argued it was his privilege as 'the walking wounded’ not to have to carry stuff. Virgil had just rolled his eyes and agreed, muttering something about checking for himself to ensure no more 'jailbreaks'.)

Behind them, a dozen or so vets and other volunteers were unloading the various other crates of animals from Two's hold, checking them over and directing them to their respective enclosures.

Gordon grinned.

"Feeling better now?" asked Virgil, quirking a smile in reply.

He was, in more ways than one. Somehow, staring into the face of that tiny serpent had made him feel a lot more positive about everything. Nature really was amazing. If a baby creature, just out of its egg, could survive and protect itself in a hostile environment like that little one had today, then with a little bit of care he was sure the other animals they'd rescued would as well.

Life was good. He had his health, he had his family, and they’d done good today. 

Suddenly overcome with happiness, he couldn’t help doing a little jumping air punch, earning a low chuckle from his left.

"You were right, Virg. Today really was a win.”

Virgil raised an eyebrow at him. "Not sure I'd quite describe it that way, but if you say so. You did still set a snake loose in my ‘bird, though.”

“Hey, don't blame me! I'm as much a victim as you are. Little Hissy Houdini's a force all of his own.”

A pause. “You named him?”

“Yep! Kinda fitting, don’t you think?”

Virgil’s eyes narrowed. 

"You’re not keeping him.”

Gordon gasped dramatically. 

“Virgil Tracy, I am shocked! I would never-”

“Sully the Gully, Puppy Longstocking, Razorbill Bob, the Swift Family Robinson…”

“...again. Never again.”

“Well that’s just as well then, because I don’t think Scott would appreciate finding this little escapologist in his sock drawer, do you?"

As Gordon contemplated all of the delicious trickster-y possibilities that that image brought up, he stretched and gave his back another series of cracks.

Virgil regarded him coolly. "You sound like a goddamn popcorn maker," he grumbled. "Speaking of, I wonder if the others'd be up for a movie night tonight? I feel like we've earned a bit of down time."

"Sounds good to me," said Gordon, flinging an arm around the big man's shoulders. "And I have the perfect one in mind… You like Samuel L Jackson films, right?"

[givemea-dam-break]

babes is back

hello my lovies!!!!!!

i am back!!!! much to your pleasure and simultaneous screaming because yes, if i am back, the fics will be back. and they will be painful.

i thought i’d give you guys a little explanation as to why i kind of randomly stopped coming on tumblr despite my reappearances in december, which were because the lovely @neewtmas had her 12 days of christmas (FIND THAT HERE) and we’re online friends in real life (if that makes any sense at all) and i wanted to support her!!!! my wife!!!!

under the cut below is my little rundown, under a cut simply because i don’t want to take up a million scrolls of your dash if you don’t want to read my reasonings or you are just happy i am back (i luv u)

i have felt terrible since becoming inactive on tumblr since i made so many friends and had so so so many people supporting not only my fanfictions but the edits i also started making, so this is also kind of like my apology to you guys because i went so unexpectedly and without any explanation. so if you want to keep reading, then keep reading!

BOO

scary cut. i know. it’s ok. i am here to protect u.

anyways, like i said, my inactivity on tumblr was a completely out of the blue thing that even i didn’t expect. one day, i just found myself unable to go on the app out of pure dread which i had never felt because it was one of my faves.

and not dread because of anything that had happened here per se, just because my life had been becoming a bit of a mess.

that goes way back, but the crux of it was when me and my boyfriend of 4 years (who i had been staying with after my mum moved away) broke up

i won’t get into details about the breakup itself for both my privacy and his (very unique instances caused it), but basically it got worse and worse, and by october time it was getting to a point where i wasn’t feeling right at all. he was messaging me all the time, begging to get back together, the usual, but he was always wanting to come see me at my dads and for SOME REASON felt as though he had some entitlement to meet my new cats aka my little babies. he was saying creepy things to me (that he didn’t mean as creepy) and by november i blocked him.

i wasn’t feeling safe physically, worried i’d see him on my walks home from the shop in a different town that he comes to often to hang out in with his best friend, but also mentally. i wasn’t in a good mental space at all. i was scared. i was confused. he had pushed all of the blame of the breakup onto me. i was working 35 hours a week while being a student (still am) and my brain had no time for anything but work, studying, and worrying.

tumblr isn’t my job, but the pure guilt i felt when i deleted the app hit me like a tonne of bricks. i felt terrible. one of the only things that gave me solace was something i couldn’t bring myself to go on to. i couldn’t bring myself to write the requests i had piling in, ones i still have huge guilt for never getting around to writing. i couldn’t bring myself to keep answering messages or reblogging things because i didn’t have it in me. i didn’t even write at all october-november because i just had nothing in me, which is so so unlike me.

one thing that did keep me going though, was my emails. “eden ew ur job alert emails? ur period tracker app trying to get u onto premium? the emails from the joint account u had with ur ex for his music career that went kasplut?” no silly. maybe the job alerts - my job has too much drama.

no. 15 year old eden logging back into tumblr and setting email notifs on for comments, tags, and inbox was perhaps the smartest thing she did, and she got all A’s in her exams.

every now and then, i’d get a little tumblr notification. one of those “put this in the inbox of one of your favourite blogs blah blah blah” i luv em. can never get myself to do them because of the 13 year old in me screaming to never do chain mail again after carmen winstead and her creepy voicenote. but i love them, and i appreciate every single person who sent me one.

i could see people commenting on my fics, and absolutely loving them. i could see what my mutuals tagged me in, even if i wasn’t able to react to them.

it gave me peace of mind to keep going with my life while still being able to cling onto the happiness this site brings me while not actually accessing it.

i will always be sorry that i left so suddenly, but it was a spur of the moment thing and something i couldn't even explain myself.

i'm back now, but i likely won't be as active as i used to be. i'm prioritising work and my studies as much as i can while still finding time to write. this being said, i can't promise that all requests sent to my inbox/messages will be answered. part of my leaving was being so overwhelmed by them all (and i thank you all for choosing me to requests fics from, it means a lot!) so if your request doesn't get answered, i truly am sorry and it isn't anything personal! maybe I'll get around to it in the future, but for now i want to bring the joy back to writing for me so i will not be overloading myself like i used to!

i hope you can all understand, and know i love you all so, so dearly! i wouldn't have the friends i do or be where i am in life without all of you!

love u all lots lovies <3

-ur favourite person ever ever ever, eden MWAH

[josiebelladonna]

I’ve talked about my life in weight, losing and gaining, but I never really went into the full extent of it. Yes, this is all me above here.

Consider this a memoir of sorts. It’s a “fat memoir”, plus a weight gain journey.

To put in simplest terms, I’ve wanted to be fat since I was a little girl: I remember being five years old and eating dinner in a warm trailer on a frigid snowy night in northern Nevada, and loving the feeling. I’d tell my mom I was hungry even after I ate within the hour. I’d take off my shirt and run my hand down my chest and my belly in front of the mirror and pretend I would have a fat belly instead. 5-year-old me even thought about being 300 pounds because it was unknown and exciting to me.

I think I was 6 when I got fat-shamed the first time. I don’t remember where it came from but I remember it clear as day, though: the message that to be fat is to be bad, like it’s a bad thing. When you’re a young kid like that, you see everything in black and white, so naturally I took it to heart.

So what did I do? I started sneaking extra food, next to eating healthily. I had a balanced diet from a young age, and it would always make me full. I kept it up as we moved from Carson City to the California desert, and I transitioned from elementary to middle school.

I was 11 when I really got hit with the shame: my uncle told me that I’m solidly built and therefore prone to weight gain, and the way he said it he made it sound like it was the worst thing ever. Add to this, I had family telling me to “lay off on the chips”, even though I was still still pretty thin by the time puberty hit me. And I was in health class in sixth grade, and I was introduced to the body mass index.

I was shocked to find that I had a BMI of 25, which is just at the “overweight” mark. 12 years old, 115 pounds and 5’4”—and I was thin, too, I had a slim belly and very slight hips. Imagine hearing that you’re overweight at 12 years old when you’ve been pretty much scrawny your entire childhood because your family was poor and you were told “fat is bad” for half of your life.

Needless to say, I developed anorexia. I would go for hours, sometimes whole days, without eating. I would turn down food. I would work out hard. I would play field hockey after having eaten only a sandwich and some apple juice, do all that running around… anything i could think of that would help keep my weight down. I still gained because I was in puberty: my hips got fuller, my breasts got bigger, and I got that little curve on the waist that just happens naturally with women, but I hated it. I didn’t want that curve—I think it was here I really started crossdressing more because it happened to me naturally.

But I hated my body. I wanted to be thin, without curves, but I still wanted to be a girl, though.

Understand I still love field hockey—it’s fun! I played that and softball. But it always left me so exhausted, because I was barely eating.

I remember laying in bed, in my hockey clothes, and feeling my poor belly, in all its flatness and tenderness.

I didn’t want to suffer. It felt as though it had been forced upon me. I was forced to destroy my own body all because of some arbitrary measurement system that is known to be eugenics and yet healthcare systems continue to use it: it’s honestly astounding to me, and it makes me wonder how many more kids are out there right now who feel at odds with it, like they don’t think their bodies are beautiful no matter what shape and size they are, and they have to force themselves into this complete bullshit out of worry that they’ll develop diseases that literally anyone can get regardless of weight.

Some days I would binge on anything and everything, and of course, I would feel guilty about it afterwards, and I would start the cycle all over again. I knew something was wrong when my hair started falling out and my acne was getting worse, too.

Everyone told me I looked good, especially when I was in the bridesmaid dress at my brother’s wedding at 16 years old.

I certainly didn’t feel good, though. In fact, whenever I lost weight, it never felt good.

When my parents split, I took a turn for the worse, mainly because my dad and I got evicted and whatever food came our way, we had to ration it of sorts. When I moved into my dorm, because my campus was on a hillside, I went up and down stairs and hills all the time. I bypassed the “freshman 15” and lost fifteen pounds when I lived on campus: once again, it was the whole “look good but I don’t feel good, though”. It didn’t help that they didn’t let me keep my food money once the school year ended. I moved off campus for my senior year to an apartment complex about half a mile away, and then to the house across the street, and then a house about a block away from the school. All that moving, and I took a turn for the worse. School was getting harder and I kept losing weight all the while.

I remember feeling cold all the time: it didn’t help that I lived in the mountains of Oregon at the time, and it was quite the cold winter that year (so many days it dropped down below zero—i often thought of going outside naked and laying down in the snow, just to feel something before I “went”). 

Anorexics, notably Karen Carpenter, have heart problems, and most of them do die of heart failure at some point: it was starting to go that way for me, now that i think about it in hindsight. My blood pressure has always been low, even now at my heaviest which I’ll explain soon enough, but during that low point, it was quite low. There were a few mornings I woke up and I couldn’t believe that I did, like I hadn’t died in my sleep. If anything, I was expecting it.

Anorexia also does very strange things to a person, not just physiologically and internally, but mentally, too: you get in denial and you also believe that you can’t do anything right, and you also think that everyone is out to get you. I wanted to change but I didn’t know who to turn to, and everyone seemed too busy as well.

I was stuck, and in the worst way possible. And I was shedding pounds, too.

What made me change course, you ask? Well, there are a couple of things: the first was that camping trip over thanksgiving weekend to the coast, where I ate that whole grasshopper pie by myself (no one was eating it and I didn’t want it to go to waste) plus a change in career course. I was not only another cog in the BMI machine but in the collegiate machine as well: high school left me horrifically unprepared for college life, and I felt like such a fish out of water in the engineering department. I was too weird and the curricula either bored me to tears or went right over my head. I tried talking to people, my counselor, my professors, and even my mother because she was going to the same school as me, and I was always—always—turned away. My mom was often in a bad mood back then because of the workload she had, too. It often felt like nobody was listening… until I made them listen by not signing up for spring term classes. When my parents and eventually the rest of the family found out, with this rumor that I was dropping out and throwing everything away, they all lost their shit and that was when I couldn’t take it anymore and I cried harder than I ever did in my life.

I actually remember having a makeshift noose around my neck that day. I was going to do it. I felt like I let everyone down, and throw in my malnourished, emaciated body, I had completely lost my will to live a second longer. If this was how the world saw me, a complete fuck-up and a waste of space, then I would do the honor of relieving everyone the misery of knowing me.

My father and brother would later use this against me in late 2015, well after I had begun my recovery no less, but there was no way around it, though. 

It was my stepdad who talked me down from it, and I was able to brush back my tears and say it out loud that I wanted to be an artist, and he actually talked me into it, like he said that it would be the best thing for me. Honestly, that was the best thing he ever did for me… god bless his soul.

I didn’t start healing my relationship with my body until 2014, however. I had gained a little bit of weight over the course of 2013, not a lot, but it was enough to make me stop feeling cold all the time and give me some more energy to go on walks again. That was another hard winter, though, one filled with anxiety and paranoia and… not really making any sense? And what’s worse is I had no idea where it was coming from until well after the fact: it was leftover from anorexia as well as feeling like I couldn’t do anything with myself. I had transferred to a community college for my two-year degree in general art studies and everyone was looking at me funny. I had a crush on a guy who felt out of reach and I didn’t know what to tell him if I ever had the chance.

I literally felt as though I was losing my mind, all the way to the point of my finding the way to write my letter to Ben shepherd, courtesy of my mom’s willingness and keen eye. At that point, I had to take my sabbatical from school for six months and try out something to ease my mind.

I got a job at the Dutch Bros about a mile away, so I could ride my bike or walk there—I also got free coffee. I think it was here I got into the habit of getting a slice of pie at the café up the street, too: cheap-o pie, too, it was only a buck seventy-five and delicious. I had to quit because my anxiety still wasn’t getting any better, but I actually enjoyed it because of the coffee and the pie. I knew I gained weight because when I went out for a ride, I noticed I was having to pump my legs a little harder.

I kept it steady throughout 2014, through betrayals and bullies on the internet, through Chris sharing my art on Twitter, through seeing Soundgarden three times and starting up school again. But the anxiety persisted, and I could feel my body image slipping again, and I suffered a full mental breakdown to the point I nearly checked myself into the hospital.

But through my broken mind, I noticed that I was getting a little belly, a little roll of fat around my waist. And when I had to move back home as my mom and my stepdad were moving back as well to care for the house his mother left behind, the thing that kept me out of the hospital, I could see the light again.

When I got to the house, I found a scale.

199 pounds. Whoa. How did that happen?

Indeed, I looked at my body and while I had thickened a bit in the hips, I still looked very thin.

I was in the mountains: I was either walking up stairs or a hill. I could have that weight but I could exercise more, and more rigorously, too.

I dropped down to 180 by Christmas: I look at pix of myself from then, when I met Chris and when my family were being assholes for literally no reason—I’m seriously not exaggerating when I say that, either: I said I wanted to be alone with my thoughts for a bit and my dad took it the complete wrong way—and I was quite spry then. 

But I felt like something was missing, though. I felt good with a belly because it gave me comfort when my mind was broken: I had always associated thinness with pain and bad periods of my life and chubbiness with joy and pleasure.

So, what did I do? I started eating more. I started relaxing more. Eating and relaxing, relaxing and eating. I gained almost 30 pounds by the springtime: I actually felt pretty good in an otherwise abysmal year.

Then my grandma passed in June and my brother and sister-in-law were giving me dirty looks at the funeral, again, for no reason. The next month my sister-in-law was killed in a freak rollover accident.

The funeral there took place in Vegas (in the middle of July, too: I remember it was 117° the day of, and everyone was wearing tuxes and heavy dresses: I was in a sundress and sweating like crazy), and during the reception, where they had a big buffet for everyone and then some, I helped myself to two plates of food, two plates full of dessert, plus a few more cookies, another cupcake, more veggies, and a couple more things. Middle of summer in Vegas at a funeral and yet I had just eaten as if it was Thanksgiving back home in Oregon on a snowy night.

It was so twisted when you think about it (and to be fair, she never liked me) but there’s something very subversive about pleasure in my eyes, though. You have to cross some lines to do right by someone, that someone being myself. And let me tell you, it felt good.

And yet, I kept my weight steady at around the 210 - 220 pound range for a few years, even through 2017, one of the worst years of my life, and when I went dark in late 2016 into late 2018. It was around here I started digging more into my sexuality and my writing: I was able to examine my thoughts more closely being away from the world for the most part. In 2019, I wrote Have Your Cake and Eat It, my ode to Lars and the fact he’s always hungry, and my first fanfic in 6 years at that point. I never really examined the kink through extensive writing before so it was an interesting endeavor.

I was around 200 by the time the lockdowns came: my eating habits went sideways all through 2019. Life didn’t really change much for me, aside from realizing everything was closed and I couldn’t do anything without a mask on. I gained a little bit of weight, but I kept exercising and the incident between me and the art thief, and the plagiarism incident between me and you-know-who, and I lost some and then I thought it had plateaued again by the time Alex entered my life.

My stepdad passed. It was a long time coming, though: the man had congestive heart failure, he was an alcoholic, and according to my mom, he was jaundiced for at least a decade. Though 2019 was a very fun year in retrospect, he began drinking more and getting drunk more often, and it wound up biting him in the ass in early 2021. Easter weekend, his liver started failing and he turned blue. The very moment he entered the hospital, he was septic and his kidneys failed.

Now it’s just my mom and me, plus our dog, our cat, his stepson and his girlfriend and their daughter.

But the next thing I know, there’s a bunch of food in the house. He’s also not around to give me shit for it, either.

I went from 212 pounds to 245 that year. Moreover, I really liked the way I looked with those 30 pounds, and I started thinking about how when I was little, I thought of gaining weight and getting very fat, how hungry I would often feel and yet I couldn’t eat because we were poor and I live in a fatphobic world.

And I haven’t looked back.

Now, here I am, at my absolute heaviest weight, 267 pounds, what you call a “big beautiful woman” or “bbw”, by definition and I love it. I love looking down and seeing my belly obscuring the view of toes (if anything, I feel relieved by it), i love how soft it feels, especially around the lower part, and I feel very sexy now. Whenever I take a pic of my body and I angle it down to my belly, I get so aroused, like I genuinely feel sexy for once. 

I have a big sexy belly now.

(And you know what they say, if you feel sexy, you look sexy)

I love my double chin, too: I remember being thin and wishing I had a fat double under my chin—I’ve always found them distinguished more than anything. I love the “belt” of stretch marks on my waist: I really love stretch marks, tbh, they’re interesting.

And my body feels so strong, too: I am living proof that you can be fat and healthy. My gains have been staggered and gradual, and very healthy up to this point. It’s probably why I weigh as much as i do, and yet, the only thing about me that’s actually fat is my belly: the rest of my body is just rather full if anything. Everything is right where it should be and I’ve never felt healthier: probably the only drawbacks of being heavy are getting winded more easily and finding clothes that aren’t hideous. I’m actually getting looks now, like actual passes from strangers: I used to never get looks, either. It’s like, yeah, I’m a hot chubby chick, look at these stout curves and well-fed potbelly, babe: I can’t stop looking, too 😋🥵

Because of this, I actually want to be heavier, at least 280 pounds—5-year-old me dreamed of being 300+ and I think it’s definitely in the cards. I don’t want to be more than 375 pounds, though, I think that’d be too much.

But I like walking around and letting everything hang forth, I love eating a lot, and I love how I hold onto this weight so well: you would think that I would have been morbidly obese at this weight, but aside from the belly, I don’t really look it: I can still feel my hipbones and my ribs, and my double chin only just recently started showing itself, too. I’m chubby, but I know I can be fuller, heavier, much chubbier and rounder. I’m not big enough yet. I’m very aroused by the thought of being 298 pounds and having this lusciously fat belly on me, with tight skinny jeans to accentuate its full, round shape and nothing more than a black lace bra to show it off.

I have no doubt in my mind that my precarious formative years and teenage dysphoria has come from not being heavy and not being able to gain a lot of weight like I have the last decade. Add in my weight gain/fat kink, and it should come as no surprise that I still deal with residual shame.

But it is pleasurable, though: when my mom and I finally move away from this house, and we go back to civilization, I’ll get back into the creamy coffee and piece of pie habit, but I think I’ll mix it up. I’ll have a milkshake and a big reuben sandwich or a burger and fries or a gyro. I’ll have a full meal plus dessert, because I’ve always wanted dessert in a restaurant. I’ll go to more than one place, too. I love wearing clothes that are a bit too tight because they flatter my belly. I love fatty foods like donuts and funnel cake, and I’ll happily eat big helpings of both because they’re delicious and sexy food.

Sometimes I’ll think about disappearing into a city or an island nation like Iceland or Fiji, or a country where they love to eat like Lithuania and getting up to 300 pounds easily no questions asked, and that inexplicably feels to be in the cards, too: the only family who care about me are my parents and my aunt Chris; my mom is very supportive of me (I’m kind of the only person she cares about as she and my brother don’t talk) and since my stepdad passed, she’s been in a better place; my dad’s happy now, and my aunt Chris has always been very understanding. When my cousin Harmony came out as lesbian at age 14 and identified as male (I was a baby, so I have no memory of it), the three of them were the only ones in the whole family who understood. But my mom and I could move to Reno or at least a place where it doesn’t take a whole day to go into town, and I could get very fat so easy. I’ll flirt with 350 all because literally no one else will recognize me.

Yeah, it’s definitely bad… in a “I’m a total bad girl who gives the finger to what society wants me to be.”

My weight and the associated kink I have with it has always been a very touchy subject for me, both from the anorexia, but also from the stigma surrounding weight gain. 

I remember how happy people were when I said I lost twenty pounds in 2014: I was added to a group called “breaking slim” because of it, too, started by a woman who used to be well over 300 pounds and then she lost about half of it—looking back on it, she looked better heavy; when I looked at her after the weight loss, she looked gaunt and sickly. I remember people looking at this pic of me in my old nirvana shirt and telling me I looked pretty (I sure didn’t feel it, though).

I have had friends who have gotten really fat, fatter than me, and then they lose the weight and they get so much applause and shit: I mentioned the fact that I gained weight on purpose and I’m met with shock and horror.

It’s not just me, either: there’s that one friend that I have, he was in an abusive relationship and he got out of it a few years back and he started drinking and using drugs to cope and it just about killed him (young guy, too, only a few years older than me). I saw him before I signed off facebook for another hiatus and he was in a much better place, and he got heavier as a result of his cleaning up… and naturally, there were a few comments on that thread that struck me as somewhat fatphobic. I have a couple of female friends with depression and they’re taking pills for it (that’s last thing you want to do for any mental illness, imo, but that’s just me), and the last time I saw them, they were both talking about how the medicine makes them “fat as fuck”, and I look and they’re like me about 15 pounds ago, barely chubby. I see it in Alex and the subtle self-deprecating comments he makes at himself and his body: that poor man, I swear—I want to protect him so badly, like I wish I lived closer to him and be a comfort to him. I want to be his safe place, his escape.

I hope my story helps someone somewhere, especially now with diet ads being every other commercial now with New Year’s upon us.

You are more than your weight. Diet culture is deadly, as it nearly killed me—and go down the rabbit hole with that, too, diets are not good, trust me. If anything, you should eat more: we are a country that has a huge issue with food waste, eat. Some of you look good and healthy being a little stout: in fact, you can be very healthy being a little round. If you do what my best friend Elizabeth and I used to do (and what I used to do as soon as 2016) and tuck a pillow under your shirt, and you aren’t envisioning a fetus in there, look into that: your body might be telling you something. Listen to your body and your heart, not what the world wants you to be.

[apexart-journal]

Mvelo Mahlangu in NYC, Day 12

I started off my morning early, running out into the cold, headed towards Brooklyn for a Quaker prayer. My mom had mentioned before that she had some Quaker friends and that it was a sector of Christianity. Other than that piece of information, I had never heard of the Quaker religion nor did I know how they practiced. As soon a I got to the building, I started getting a little bit worried because it was so quiet. If the maintenance person was not there fixing a pipe, I genuinely would have thought I had come at the wrong time and probably left. I told him that I was here for a Quaker meeting ad he told me that it was taking place upstairs and that I was right to be there. I followed his instruction and found myself walking into a room with some people silently sitting in pews that faced towards the centre of the room. I was caught off guard. I sat down and realised that this was how Quakers prayed and gathered. An individual experience shared in the same space as others. We sat there for the next hour and half, which I used as a good opportunity to chant and meditate. After the meeting ended, I made my way over to the 9/11 memorial plaza. 

The first thing I saw as soon as I walked out of the subway was just this giant white structure with ‘spikes’ arching over its sides almost like inverted rib bones. It also reminded me of a dinosaur skeleton. I’ve seen this building online before, but seeing it in person gave me such a difference feeling. Waling around it and towards the 9/11 memorial, I saw so many sculptures of animals sitting about, playing chess and doing human activities. Across the road I saw a building completely covered in graffiti which added a bright and youthful energy. 

Seeing the 9/11 memorial was breath taking. I think before coming to NY, I knew about 9/11 and what a tragic moment in the history of NYC it was. But I don’t think I truly understood what it meant to everyone in the country and how deeply scarring it was. At the time it happened, I was only 2 years old. Seeing the memorial in front of me and seeing all the names of the people who passed away that day, engraved into the perimeter of where one of the buildings stood was unfathomable.  Later, I went and did more research into what happened that day and stumbled upon some videos of people recounting their experience. I wonder where everyone working at apexart was, when it all happened…

After my moment at the memorial, I went into the dinosaur skeleton looking building and realised it was a mall with so many different shops. Looking up, I felt as though I was in the belly of a giant. I caught the subway from within the building which I now know is called the “Oculus”. Tonight, I would be heading to Astoria, Queens, to play trivia! Upon arriving back at the apartment, before heading out to Astoria, I decided to google the bar I’d be going to. It was a Mexican bar/restaurant, called Daliah, that had some amazing vegetarian options. As I was about to exit the website, I saw a notification saying that they would not be open today due to the Super Bowl. I didn’t realise how big the sueprbowl was, I’ve only really engaged with the content of the performances that happen in between games. I took this as a good opportunity to stay in and rest. 

[laurensjapanadventure]

June 12- Kiyomizudera/ Gion/ Pokémon Cafe

Today we visited Kiyomizu-dera and had a Gion tour. Jordan and I had pre-established reservations at the Pokémon cafe, so Professor Smith allowed us to go instead of the Geisha performance. It took us an hour to get there by train. When we got to Kiyomizudera we passed a street where I saw some shops I wanted to visit but I didn’t think I’d be able to. The temple had metal sandals and poles to lift. I couldn’t lift the heavy one but neither could anyone else in the group, I think that was the point. Jordan tried REALLY hard to lift it and I thought he was silly. We went to the temple where we drank the sacred water. I chose the middle fountain and Jordan chose the last one. One of the fountains was for love, one for longevity and one for business/academic success. The way I figured, Jordan and I had a 2/3 chance of relationship success if we drank from different fountains.

Next we walked to Canon’s womb. It was a pitch black (completely dark without light) and we had to walk through. I was a little scared but unfortunately the area was pumped with smoke, and Jordan is an asthmatic. We had to rush through the dark since he needed his inhaler. On the way out, we rubbed the stone disk like we were supposed to. Jordan used his inhaler and felt better after a while. I was very worried about him.

We were supposed to meet up again for a performance in Gion from geishas and maikos. Jordan and I were excused due to a previous reservation with Pokémon cafe. Jordan and I got to hang out in the area for a few hours and I was so excited to visit the Ghibli stores. There were like five Ghibli stores all next to each other we got to visit. I got strawberry swirl ice cream that was so cute and well-decorated. I also went to a cat themed store and bought my mom a calico statue. The man who ran the store was very nice and wrapped it for us. Sometimes I want to be an elderly Japanese man working in a cat statue shop. We saw a snoopy-themed chocolate shop that was really cute but expensive.

After looking around, Jordan and I decided to take the train to Osaka for the Pokémon cafe. I ordered food but unfortunately, when I asked they contained shrimp. I was only able to eat the desserts but Jordan was just as sweet as the treats, as he ordered each one for us to try. We were about to leave but we were told to wait for the Pikachu performance. It was adorable and I thoroughly enjoyed it as pikachu danced to “If you’re happy and you know it clap your hands”.

We visited the Pokemon store and the Shonen Jump store before heading home

[zombieweek-g]

On The Don TL

my brain is soup rn from this cold ive been nursing so forgive me if this stops making sense at any point

I started subbing donbros at episode 8 because a friend I’d talk about it with didn’t speak japanese, and thus couldnt talk about the eps with me until the subs were eventually released, usually at least 20 hours after the initial airing. As a result, my entire motivation for starting thius sub was just to be able to chat about the episodes with my friend faster, so posting them anywhere at all was never really on my mind, and I didn’t think I’d actually sub the next episode, much less the rest of the show. 

Don was the first time I’ve ever subbed a show, so the first 5 weeks were sort of like being chucked into a fire after having only done manga translation up til now, and the process was both easier, harder, and completely different in so many ways (honestly i worry about how easily itll be to switch right back to scantalation lol)

working with such a small window in between the ep airing and actually releasing the sub definitely made for some occasionally sloppy mistakes, and more often than not I’d just get completely off track for one reason or another. If you ever noticed my sub released like 12 full hours after airing rather than the normal 5 its because i was either caught up in a game or a show (there was a solid 2 weeks where the sub was delayed because i was binging doctor who (sorry)). 

There’s so much I feel like I could talk about in regards to the personal journey I went on subbing this show and its hard to even think of how to put it into words, I graduated from university and started working in the span of subbing this show, if feels like a joke. I figured out that I was trans because of this show (not totally true but it did happen in the timeframe).

That’s also not even to talk about the people I’ve gotten to meet while subbing this show, like, people I’d always held in high respect for their work that I’ve gotten to work with because I started doing this. It feels insane how much of my online presence has changed because of this show, like a year and some change ago this was a dead blog, I didn’t post or RB anything and if you look at my posts prior to january 2022 im pretty sure you could count most of my posts on your fingers. There’s such an insane amount of stuff I owe to the work ive done on my sub and even still i cant put it into words.

I was actually really worried I wasn’t gonna be able to get this sub out because I’ve been sick as a dog for about 3 days now, yesterday I was literally bedridden for half the day worrying that I might not be able to even sit at my computer because of what turned out to jsut be a really bad cold. The effort I’ve been able to put into other stuff too thanks to this is crazy to me, like I fully didn’t expect it to turn out so well for me. (like the blog that posted last weeks tl for me is actually just my alt I use for streaming, another thing i only really started doing because of the motivation I got from going this!)

Whether or not I keep subbing sentai, I’ll be having my manga projects taking focus more going forward, especially with how many I abandoned mid tl last year (nexus and kaixa manga both coming soon hopefully.

It’s hard to put into words just how much this show and the support I’ve gotten with my janky speed tl means to me, and for anyone who read this thank you so much for the support and encouragement over the last 10 months, because it really has meant the world to me.

[tommygunzsz]

BEAR WITH ME lol I needed to vent, go ahead, sit down with your favorite snack and be prepared with my rambling. 12/31/22

Ya know I had thought this out for a while. I finally had found someone who knew how I am. Even after you told me we can be just friends I wanted to stick around you so I just put my feelings aside till it was a good time to bring it up again. I never pushed my boundaries whenever I was talking to you. Sure there were times I flirted with you bc I wanted you to know that I still liked you but I should’ve known after a while from the no replies for hours on end even when you’re off work or “busy”. For me to not do enough when you never wanted to spend time with me when I asked, don’t get me wrong there were times where I genuinely thought you actually wanted to see me. Because you had said “we can plan our hang out next time I’ll make time for you” Who knows now, if you actually think about it why wouldn’t you just tell them the truth on how you feel. So the other party can just walk away instead of sticking around in “wonder” your feelings for them. It’s not like if you told me you’d lose me as a friend. We barely were, bc we were in the process of getting to know each other. Either way I’d be out of your life completely and you never see me again maybe for your cousins bday once a year cause he’s my boy and I gotta go to his birthdays. Im just so confused bc I don’t know where I stand with you. Maybe it was a mistake talking to you in the first place, I didn’t learn anything from you. Perhaps my only mistake is that I shouldn’t have talked to a younger girl where she’s still figuring herself out or idk. As much as it sucks to not see you again where I’ll have to one more time is drop off your cardigan that you left in my car from taking care of you when you were drunk and oh also your Xmas present. Then you won’t see me again and worry about our situation. I’ll be completely out of your life. For the first time I agree with what my homie said “ I genuinely believe you didn’t do anything wrong and she’s doesn’t know how to process all that” I’ve never agree with what someone said about me I’d always think the most modest of myself and said no way I wouldn’t do that or I don’t believe that. Till today i never went to the extreme past the boundaries and I kept it respectful but even though you pretty much cut it off. Just know I’m not the one that gave up because it got hard. I genuinely liked you and you thought I didn’t because I didn’t do enough or more.

[cigtray]

BEATINGS, BRUISES AND LAUGHTER

Pairing: JJ x Reader

In which: Nobody can successfully calm JJ down the night he freaks out. Everybody slept in a chateau with a friend that screamed all night and wouldn’t let anybody touch him. Till on the porch when the pogues hear him laughing.

Category: Angst (¿) but also Flufffy

Warnings: cursing, a lil kiss, typos

You couldn’t have known, how would you have known? There wasn’t any way for you to have known that this wouldn’t be another lovely day of messing around on the S.S. Pogue.

You had worked at the ship wreck the night before, taking orders and almost spilling trays of waters. So there was no way to know what you missed…

“Who the fuck does he think he is?! As if I’d ever willingly do anything for him?! In exchange for what?! Huh?! Bruises? Hell no! To hell with him!” It had been an hour and a half since JJ had practically crumbled in front of his friends, and absolutely refused to let any of them try to even remotely help him. He rambled; he talked about how it hurt, the things he craved, he talked about wanting a home of his own, of wanting a father, he talked about beatings and about pain. He talked about his abuse.

While all his friends wanting to hold him, to silently talk to him in their softest voices he refused, exclaiming “this is why I can’t say anything! Look at you all! Pitying me!” It had gone on, and on, and on. This was only the start at nine p.m.

At 11 p.m. the clattering of things could be heard along with the screams of JJ and John B., who had resorted to helping his friends in the fashion of wrecking things.

CRASH

There went a plate.

BAM

A skillet hit the floor.

“FUCK YOU DAD FUCK YOU! FUCK YOU! I HATE YOUR GUTS!”

Down went a delicate China teacup.

At 12 a.m. You would see Pope comforting JJ by silently driving him around in the boat, letting JJ sit to the side and dangle his feet off the boat with a blunt in hand.

At 1 a.m. you’d see Kiara try to softly place a hand on JJ and say “hey, why don’t we-“ but he’d only jerk himself away and say “I don’t wanna fucking talk about it Kie.” And silently walk away from her.

And by 3 a.m. you’d find JJ crying while the others slept.

By 10 a.m. in the morning? You’d find (y/n) and JJ on the porch. At least that’s what the others found.

“Hey J!” You laughed excitedly as you moved a little faster to reach the blond. “Hey there (y/n)” he said softly “bit early for you huh? Rough night?” You slowed your walk as you neared him, looking at the tired look that seemed to make itself at home on his face. “Maybe.”

“A maybe is never quite a good thing with you Maybank.” You told him, raising an eyebrow while coming to sit next to him. “And why would you say that, milady?” He asked, silently thanking you for not prodding at him. Hed tell you, just not yet. He needed a little bit more of a peaceful mind before he could relay all that had happened. And you’d worry, he knew you’d worry. “You remember when you made me fruit loops? And I asked you if the milk had expired? After I ate an entire bowl? And you told me maybe?” JJ snorted at this, “you threw up like three times” “yeah and you and John B just laughed at me.”

JJ wrapped an arm around you simply sighing before saying “do you want to smoke with me?” You tilted your head up to look at him, he really did look tired. And you’d be a fool not to notice the tears streaks that had been left there, or maybe you just knew them all too well. You did spend a lot of time staring at him. “Are you trying to get me high so I’ll eat expired stuff again?” You asked with a sharpening of your eyes and a small smile “I would never in my life EVER do that to you, princess” he proclaimed. “Then I guess, maybe I’ll smoke with you.” You told him “Maybe is never a good answer coming from you” he remarked.

One blunt later

“No way grasshoppers are like that?!” You shouted, “uh yeah they can fly, (y/n)” JJ couldn’t help but laugh, you were such a lightweight, anytime you got high he knew you were in a whole new dimension. “(Y/n), what do you think about… spaghetti?” He watched as your eyes glazed over with a faraway look “oh god, spaghetti… JJ make me spaghetti” you all of a sudden looked very determined “hell no! I’m comfortable!” JJ sighed dramatically as he flopped himself over onto your lap. “No! No! I want spaghetti!” You cried as you wedged your small fingers into his sides and tried to pry him from you.

JJ couldnt stop laughing. Not only were you unintentionally tickling him but you were also so determined to get him off you for the chance of spaghetti that you were scrunching your entire face. “Good lord- (y/n)- stop- you- you look like- the grinch” he gasped between breathes. “I do no-!”

“JJ?” A very not awake John B stumbled to where the two of you sat. “Are you good bro?” JJ glanced between the two of you and saying “yeah, I’m good now dude.” And simply turned, completely ruining any work you had done of getting him off you, as he cuddled into you once again. “J, I think we should take a nap instead of getting spaghetti. Lets eat spaghetti in our dreams, okay?” You sighed as you brought your hands to his hair “oka-“ “you know your hair reminds me of spaghetti…” JJ was quick to pull back a bit “don’t get any ideas here (y/n)…” he watched as you smiled “maybe just a little, bite, you know?” And you were lurching forward while he lurched back, simply dumping you both to the ground. When you landed with a thunk John B must have decided JJ was really okay because he receded back into the chateau.

“Just one bite okay?” You said lowly as you leaned in, softly closing the distance between your lips. JJ in that moment tasted like salt, maybe some kind of peppermint and just a smidge of weed, but god if you didn’t love it. He gently hummed into the kiss, bringing a hand to your hip as he propped himself up on one arm. It felt like you could stay there forever, with him, with his warmth.

“(Y/n)?” JJ asked as you pulled away, already focusing your intoxicated sight on his lips. “Thank you for the laughs.” He smiled before reaching a hand up to bring you back down to him.

[dari-ede]

In the Middle of the Night: Chapter 7

Chapter 7: “Midnight into Morning Coffee”

Chapters: 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8 - 9 - 10 - 11 - 12 - 13 - 14 - 15 - 16 - 17 - 18 - 19 - 20 - 21 - 22 - 23 - 24 - 25 - 26 - 27 - 28 - 29 - 30

MASTERLIST

*****************

Summary: As Bangtan prepares for a new chapter in their lives, they head to their private property in the forest for a songwriting workshop. As a songwriter and producer they have worked with for years, I’m asked to tag along. I was ready for the heavy workload and small amount of sleep during the workshop week. However, I wasn’t ready for the storm that came that changed my friendship with Namjoon forever.

Genre: Friends to Lovers, Fluff and Smut

Pairing: Idol!Namjoon x Female Reader

Rating: M (future sexual/explicit scenes)

Status: COMPLETE

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

-Night One-

The workshop that evening had gone well. No song had been created by the end of it, but it had worked as a good practice round for future ones. Despite the long drive and little sleep, everyone was invested and in full work mode. After a few hours of satisfied work, we ended the shop and decided on dinner.

Yoongi took lead in the kitchen once again and managed to cook something fast for us.

As we shared our meal and the guys talked amongst each other, I played a melody in my head. The melody had been on repeat since waking from my nap. Believing it was the key I needed to fix a gap in the song I was presenting tomorrow in the workshop, I felt the urge to head to the backhouse and work on it. However, I knew it would be rude if I didn't wait until after dinner. I finished as quickly, stating I wanted to work on the upcoming workshop. Namjoon, Yoongi, and Hoseok all said they were going to do the same.

Yoongi was using their old trailer as his personal studio. He invited Hobi and Namjoon to join, but only Hobi took him up on his offer.

“I’m going to work out for a bit first,” Namjoon explained.

“I'll join you,” Jungkook said.

“Me too,” Jimin piggybacked.

“You guys just ate,” I pointed out with slight worry.

“It'll be light work. And we'll wait half an hour before we do,” Namjoon promised. He got and headed to the exit so he could head to the back house to put on his workout gear. I was right behind him.

Once we got to the house, I set up my station as Namjoon got ready.

“I'm feeling a bit tired. Hopefully, this workout wakes me up for a few hours so I can work,” Namjoon said as I finished setting up my workstation on our shared kitchen table. “Care to join me?” he asked with a teasing smile.

“I’ll pass,” I said, rolling out my keyboard and connecting it to my computer.

He left with a smile and I stared after him through the window. I did my best to not allow my eyes to linger on his ass for too long.

I shook my head and went to work on the song for tomorrow, trying to fix in the melody that had popped in my head earlier.

Thankfully, it didn't take long for my focus to be solely on this project. For almost two hours I worked on it on my keyboard, trying different chords to see what flowed well. I had been so engaged in the task that I didn’t realize Namjoon had arrived and set up shop on the kitchen island. He had even taken a shower; I could tell from the water dripping off his dark grey hair.

Seeing him sitting there on the island startled me a bit. “When did you get here?” I asked, trying to settle my heart rate.

“A bit ago. You were so focused, I didn’t want to interrupt.” He had his laptop, headphones, multiple notebooks, and an iPad in front of him.

As I looked at him, I noticed his attire. He had on joggers and a black, muscle t-shirt. That was it. There had been a few times I’d seen Namjoon’s bare arms, but it was rare, and the last time had been months ago. The guy just kept growing. I could see the outlines of his pecs from the t-shirt he was wearing, could see the sharpness of his collar bones, and the mountains that were now his biceps.

I took a sip of water, feeling my throat a little dry. “What are you working on?” I asked, looking down at my notes and away from him.

He explained some of the ideas he wanted to discuss in the workshop. He had printed out a few pages with literacy passages he felt might go well with the feel of the music. He had come up with some melodies and lyrics but was unsure what he wanted his main focus to be on.

I let him do most of the talking, knowing full well he sometimes needed to talk out an idea until he figured it all out himself. I knew this because we had written several songs together. Sure enough, after only two questions prompted by me, he had a full strategy for his song.

Looking satisfied, he wrote in his notebook and closed his laptop. He came over to the table and took a seat. It didn't pass me in noticing he chose not to seat in the closest chair to him—which would have been direct across from me—but had gone around the table to take the chair next to me.  “What are you working on?”

I took another sip of water as he leaned over and picked up one of the worksheets I had printed earlier.

I disconnected my headphones from the keyboard so I could use the speakers. “I've had this melody in my head most of the day. At first, I thought it would go well with the song I wrote for tomorrow's workshop, but now I have a feeling it's an entirely different song. I know I should focus on what I wrote for tomorrow, but I kind of want to chase this new song.”

“Play it, girl,” Namjoon encouraged as he placed his elbows on the counter, readying himself.

I looked away from his bulging upper arms and played the music. It started with the D6 chord, followed by Em7 and then G. Bm and Em7 and D. I repeated the set a few times before stopping. “That’s all I got.” I ran my hand through my hair and scratched my head, a thought creeping its way to my full consciousness.

“What seems off about it?” His voice was quiet, but I could clearly hear him.

I turned to him, not understanding. “What do you mean?”

He held my gaze. And like so many times before, I felt he was looking into my soul. “You tell me. Something about what you played isn’t sitting with you.”

“What makes you say that?” I hunched my shoulders, trying to hide as much of myself from him as I could.

“You scratch your head when something is bothering you—but it’s only when it comes to music. When it’s something that’s not music, you put your hair up in a bun. And if it’s already up, you take it down only to put it up all over again.”

I honestly didn't know how his words made me feel so naked. He saw so much of me when I thought I was doing a kick-ass job in hiding. He never used this gift of his against me; always said it so nonchalantly as if he was telling me I had something on my face—like it was no big deal he knew my private habits. At times it felt like he knew me better than anyone else in my life. And being the private person I was, it made me nervous that someone knew me in such detail. However, I was quickly reminded that this was one of Namjoon's many gifts. He had a tendency to read his members just as easily. There really wasn't anything special in the way he read me.

After reminding myself I wasn't special to Namjoon, I decided there was no point in telling him he was wrong about his observations. I let out my thoughts regarding the song. “It seems personal. It's not for someone else. I don’t think I want to give up this song.”

Namjoon’s face turned bright. “A song for yourself?”

I gave a slight nod.

He placed his big, warm hand around my shoulders and gave me a tight hug of excitement. “That’s awesome!”

He knew it had been a long time since I had created a song for myself. If I was being honest, I was feeling a little excited myself, but I didn’t want to get too ahead of myself. This song could lead to a dead end and stay in my folder as an unfinished project—like so many other countless songs.

“Do you have everything ready for tomorrow’s workshop?” he asked, his arm still around me.

I looked over the checklist I had made for myself. “As much as I can.”

“Then just work on this song.” He rubbed my arm softly and gave me another squeeze before pulling away.

A chill made its way through me, making me shiver.

He must have caught it. “You cold? Want some coffee?”

There was a sweater next to me that could help, but I could never turn down coffee.

“I’ll go make us some.” He got up from his seat and made his way to the door, exiting the house.

As soon as he left, goosebumps made their way across my arms. This time, it was for a different reason; I had the sudden thought the house was too dark and lonely. And quiet. I looked around the dimness of the kitchen and living room and felt uneasy. No more than two seconds later, I was dashing out of there and hurrying after Namjoon.

He stopped for me, having heard me bail out, and snickered. “You live by yourself, how are you afraid of being alone for a few minutes?”

Once I was at his side, he resumed walking. “That’s a house I’m familiar with,” I explained. “I don’t know the ghosts that live in that place.”

I could feel Namjoon rolling his eyes in the dark.

As we entered the main house, we were having a small banter about the belief in the afterlife. I wasn’t religious, hadn’t been since my 20s, but I liked to argue with Namjoon.

And he knew I liked to rile him up, but he always took the bait.

Tae, Jimin, Hobi, and Jin were in the living room, half hanging out, half working.

Namjoon turned to them. “Does anyone want to trade me rooms? She’s bound to drive me nuts by the end of this week.”

“Punishment is punishment,” Hobi pointed out.

“Weren't you working with Yoongi?” I asked, arriving at the kitchen.

He was about to answer me, but Jimin beat him to it. “Yoongi-hyung was being too quiet.”

Hobi laughed but didn't defend himself. “How are you driving Namjoonie nuts this time?”

“He doesn't believe in ghosts,” I said simply. “He's judging me because I do.”

Namjoon pretended to ignore me from the espresso maker.

“We all have our difference of opinions when it comes to religion,” Tae tried to rationalize, trying to be the peacemaker but also doing it sarcastically. He knew I was exaggerating.

“She doesn’t even believe the stuff she is arguing for,” Namjoon said with slight irritation.

I took some mugs and set them around the coffee maker. “No, but it’s annoying you.”

Namjoon just glared at me, unamused.

“Maya is the only one who can bug Namjoon this much,” Jin said, then went back to his notebook. “It’s fun to watch.”

For the next hour, most of us had coffee and hung out in the living room.

Yoongi and Jungkook joined when I sent them a message that coffee was ready. Yoongi had given up caffeine but took the decaffeinated one I made.

I was currently sitting on the couch with Tae and Jimin. Namjoon was sitting in front of me on the floor. The conversation was on tomorrow's workshop. It was getting past midnight, and no one seemed to be the slightest bit tired.

Jin had just finished making one of his cow puns—why was it always cows?

Only Yoongi and I were the ones left with straight faces.

Jin caught on and began scolding the two of us for not having a sense of humor.

“It wasn’t funny,” Yoongi stated, looking at Jin as if he was crazy to think it had been a good joke. “Do you want me to lie to you?”

“Yes, it would boost my self-esteem,” Jin said with a straight face.

“Oh, yes because you’re lacking in that department,” I said sarcastically.

He dismissed my comment. “Ok, I got another good one.”

I dramatically rolled my eyes at him. “You are so bad at these—god help your future children.”

He gave me the question and didn’t even wait for me to give an answer before he started to laugh at his upcoming joke.

“You haven’t even said the pun yet. How are you already laughing?” I teased.

Jin gathered up some composure and pretended to be outraged. “Ah! Maya, why are you always so mean to me?”

“Why are you calling me out? Yoongi isn’t laughing either.”

We went on bickering back and forth for another good minute before Jin turned on Yoongi. Then, it was the pair of them going at it as the rest of us laughed.

I noticed Namjoon rolling his right shoulder and then moving his neck back and forth. Since I’d known him, he had an issue with his right shoulder—something to do with an accident from back when he was a kid.

Instinctively, I reached over and put my palms on his shoulders.

He stayed still and let out a small sigh once the bottom of my palms began to rub his shoulder blades. His neck hung, allowing himself a good massage. I pushed my body forward and pulled his upper body closer to mine. He got the hint and backed up closer to me.

I straightened my arm as my fingers did circular motions on his right shoulder. I found a couple of knots and focused on them. His muscle shirt was making it easier for my fingers to move freely up and down his upper back. Once the knots had gone, I focused on his neck, where I could feel tension.

I placed my legs a little more comfortably on either side of his body. I then wrapped my arm fully around his upper chest for leverage. He let me push down his neck as I worked on the back of it. He let out a few moans and voiced compliments toward me.

“How’s your head feel?” My mouth was level with his ear, so I didn’t really speak up much.

He replied with a deeper moan.

I sat a little straighter and pulled his neck straight up, my fingers then slid through his short, dark, grey hair in circular motions. His heavy head then fell backward, my chest catching it. I kept him there as my hands went to massage his shoulders again.

He was doing a lot again. His visit to the UN, the upcoming concerts, and the workshops were working him to the bone. And I’m pretty sure this “rough patch” Yoongi had mentioned was adding to the stress. He loved his job but his body needed a breather.

His face looked so serene as if he was dreaming. “I could stay here forever,” he mumbled.

I scoffed. “I’d have to charge you.” He was so close; that I didn’t have to speak up.

This only made him snuggle closer. “I’ll give you all my money right now.”

No more than two seconds later, those chocolate-brown irises of his sluggishly opened and looked so intensely into mine.

“Your laugh is cute,” he whispered.

Had I been laughing? I felt my cheeks get a little warm. “I snort when I laugh.”

“That’s what makes it cute.”

I was so close to Namjoon’s face that I could see the lines on his forehead clearly. I was reminded of the years that had passed since we first met. Back then, Namjoon had some baby fat on his cheeks, but the plump features had left him, being replaced by fine lines. I knew he wasn’t the ideal handsome type by Korean or world standards, but to me—at this very moment—I don’t think I had ever seen a man look more handsome.

“There is an empty house behind us for you guys to have some lovey-dovey time.” The voice made us both pull away from each other.

I looked up to find the guys looking at us with teasing smiles. I wasn’t sure who had interrupted us, but it didn’t matter. They all looked to share the same sentiment.

I pulled myself up on my seat, feeling some embarrassment for the way things might have looked between me and Namjoon. But Namjoon stayed where he was at. He slouched a little and lifted his arm to place it above my thigh. Both my legs were still on either side of him.

I didn’t understand why I stiffened as he got into a more comfortable position. We had sat together like this before. Why was it feeling so awkward with him all of a sudden?

I tried not to allow my thoughts to drag me away from the guys. I didn’t want to make it awkward for anyone—including myself—so I pretended to listen in on their conversation.

I heard bits and pieces of it. They discussed their upcoming concert, the next album, and what we were going to eat tomorrow. But my mind was too focused on Namjoon. My feelings for him were intensifying. I wasn’t able to ignore my attraction to him like I used to.

The guys caught on to my silence.

“Mai-Mai, what is it?” asked Hobi.

I looked up and found five pairs of brown eyes on me. When had Yoongi and Jungkook left?

I made some excuse that I was thinking about needing to get work done. I checked the time and saw it was past midnight. I said my goodnight to the guys and headed to the backhouse.

Once I was sitting down at the dining table, I decided to focus on the sample music I was going to be using at the morning’s workshop. Music always settled me.

I played the workshop music on my keyboard with the speakers at full volume. As I played the guys' song, the new chords I had crafted earlier kept coming up. My fingers felt an urge to play them.

After working for a good twenty minutes, the backdoor opened and Namjoon stepped into the house. “Why not work on your song?” he asked as I continued playing.

I waved it off. “It’s ok. I really should focus on this.”

He made his way to his station on the island. “You got the itch, Maya. Chase it.”

I knew what he meant. There were always those songs that caught your full attention and wouldn’t leave your mind alone until they were complete. This song felt like one of those.

Namjoon put on his headphones, put on his glasses, gave me a smile and wink of encouragement, and started to work on his own.

I took his advice. I put on my headphones to not disturb his own work.

Surprisingly, the chords came rather easily, but I was getting annoyed by hearing the music only in my ears. The music called for this to be louder. I got Namjoon’s attention. “Is it alright if I leave the headphones off? I kind of want to hear it fill the room.”

Namjoon nodded. “Yeah, I have my headphones on anyways. Go ahead.”

“Thanks.” I took off my headphones and put the speaker on full blast. I wished there had been a piano on the property. An actual piano. The keyboard just didn’t hold the same feel under my fingers.

I played what I had created and allowed my fingers and intuition to take over. For the next half hour, I found the notes that flowed well together. I played it over and over, a feeling of familiarity coating me. Had I written this song before?

After a few seconds of no longer playing, I heard a deep voice. “That was beautiful.”

I honestly had forgotten Namjoon was present. I was so lost in the song that I thought I had been in my apartment rather than this old house.

Namjoon’s headphones were hanging around his neck and staring at the keyboard in front of me, a puzzling look on his face. “Almost sounds like something you would hear at a wedding.”

That’s when I knew why the song sounded familiar. I had created a melody similar to this song years ago.

I didn’t say anything, but Namjoon caught onto my enthusiasm by my facial expression. “What?”

I immediately went into my files to find the song. Thankfully, I recorded everything and kept it all organized. It didn’t take me long to find the file.

Namjoon was waiting for me patiently. “Found something to go with the music?”

I nodded as I opened the file and hit play. My voice came out of the speaker that had a melody with a faster pace than the piano piece I had written.

“Don’t want to feel weak in love, give up control. I’m never gonna let down my guard, be vulnerable. Don’t want to feel helpless or be too comfortable. I’ll make it on my own.”

My voice sounded too rough for the softness of the piano and, again, the melody was too fast for it, but it was all in the same key as the music I had created. Plus, the emotions and words felt right for the music.

I uploaded the lyrics to the song and thought of how I could change them to fit together.

Namjoon had the same idea as I did. “Slowing down the tempo could work. What are the lyrics again?” He asked as he pushed his glasses up his nose. He looked super adorable. Almost like a nerd.

I repeated the lyrics back to him. He thought for a moment as I hummed the lyrics again. I played the piano music and worked on the lyrics I had for the other song. It didn’t take long to find the right formula to mesh both creations. I did a quick, rough recording of it and played it back.

“That works,” Namjoon nodded in approval. “How did what I say about this being a wedding song make you think of those lyrics?” he asked curiously.

“I wrote those lyrics after Jerry and I broke up,” I said easily.

Jerry and I had been together for two years. He had been my last serious relationship—the only happy and positive one I had. But, in the end, we wanted two different things. Everyone I knew didn’t understand why it hadn’t worked between us. And as much as they asked, I was too private to share why we broke up.

“Oh,” Namjoon said simply. He had asked about my breakup with Jerry right after it happened. I hadn’t given a sincere answer and Namjoon was too respectful to pry, so he had never asked again.

This time, though, I felt compelled to finally give Namjoon the full story. “He proposed to me.”

Namjoon’s eyes went wide with shock. “For real? When?”

“It was right after Ana’s wedding. We got back to the hotel that night and he proposed. Big, diamond ring and everything.”

“You hate diamonds,” he said quickly, with a confused look on his face.

It felt nice to know at least my best friend remembered. “I think he forgot.”

Namjoon shook his head to the side, in a 'that sucks' kind of way. “How bad was it?”

I tried to think back to the exact words I had used that night. “Well, seeing that the first words that came out of my mouth right after he popped the question were: ‘This wedding is not making you think straight', I will say it was kind ofbad.”

“Maya….” His tone had a hint of reprimand and disappointment in it.

I groaned at recalling my bad behavior. “I know, it was not the best thing to have said. That, of course, led to a big argument. Found out we wanted two very different things. We had never really discussed the future, which is why the proposal was so out of the blue. We broke up that night.”

After a moment of silence, Namjoon asked softly, “Do you mind if I ask a personal question?”

“Sure,” I said without hesitancy.

He looked to think about the right words to use before he spoke up. “I thought after that breakup—because you appeared to be content and happy with him—that it was going to inspire all these songs. But the whole reason you came to Korea was that you said you had no inspiration for your music. You honestly didn’t get any songs out of that breakup or relationship?”

I nodded. “These lyrics are the only ones I wrote about our breakup. I don’t even think I wrote a full song during our relationship that was about him. Yeah, he inspired a few lyrics and maybe some melodies. But never a full song.”

“Why did you say no? Didn't you love him?” He was very direct.

I thought about it for a moment, even though I knew the answer. “Yes. But not enough to marry. He was kind, a hard worker, got along with my family, smart, successful…and the sex was really good,” I said with a laugh. I felt the need to lighten this heavy conversation.

It worked because I heard a deep chuckle from Namjoon.

“How about you, Namjoonie? Did you love your ex enough to want to get married?” It’s not that I didn’t want to talk about Jerry anymore, it’s that this was a genuine question I had wanted to know about my best friend. And for whatever reason, I had never asked until now.

He nodded. “I did love her. A lot” He didn’t look up at me but kept his eyes on the ground. Almost looking shy.

This made me feel happy. Love was such a beautiful feeling. I wanted everyone I cared for to experience it.

“What happened?” I asked. We had never really talked about his breakup.

He took a breath, still avoiding eye contact. “It was far too complicated. When it was great, it was great. But then when we were at our lowest, it seemed like the world was going to end—too dramatic. We had that attitude that 'love will save it all' kind of way. I was too naive to see that it takes more than love to make things work.” There was a slight sadness in his eyes, but there was a heavy amount of serenity—he held no regrets. “In the end, we started becoming different people. Our goals were no longer the same. It ended when it needed to end.”

“How long were you guys together for?” I asked, not remembering.

“Four years.” It was half the time he had been in Bangtan.

Another question popped in my head, but my stomach kept me from speaking it out loud.

“What?” Namjoon asked, clearly reading me like he always seemed to.

I couldn't not ask now. “Do you miss her?”

Namjoon took a breath and appeared to think about his answer.

I don't know why my stomach felt as bad as it did, seeing his reaction. I tossed it to the stupid, idiotic crush I was trying to move past.

“Not her, necessarily. I miss being able to feel good about myself.” He shook his head and made a look of slight disgust. “It's going to sound bad, but I don't see any other way of wording it. But, being with her made me feel like I was good enough. Before her, I always had this sense of almost worthlessness. Being in Bangtan has given me confidence in music, but she gave me confidence in something else.” His eyes looked sad and my heart squeezed for him. “Like I said, when it was good, it was great. During our great moments, I felt on top of the world. And that's what I miss. I miss the love. And I don't think I'm going to have it again.”

This threw me off. “What would make you say that?”

Behind the frames, Namjoon's warm, sad eyes looked straight into mine. “I'm too well known. I'd have to find a girl that knows nothing about me to think she's actually interested in me. Most would probably be with me for the status.”

Namjoon's insecurities and self-loathing would swim onto the surface every once in a while. He usually was good at keeping it down himself, but there were times one of his loved ones had to try to drown it themselves. It was my turn this time. “Believe me, most girls interested in you would be genuine. I say 'most', because there's always crazy bitches out there.”

“Again, that's because of who I am. If I wasn't part of Bangtan, no girl would give me the time of day. I'd be too ugly for them. They would think I was too long and slim to be considered good-looking.”

“Is that why you got all bulked up?” I asked, curiously.

“I think that was the inspiration behind it,” he answered honestly. “But the more I worked out, the more I found I enjoyed it. Feels good. Plus, I can now eat more since it helps me build muscle.”

“I can never understand you guys,” I said. “All of you except for Taehyung and Hobi. I know you love your food but my dislike towards working out is greater than my love for food. I think that’s why I prefer to eat healthy and box or bike rather than exercise.”

Namjoon shook his head, disagreeing with how I viewed food and exercise. “My love for food led me to enjoy exercising.”

We were quiet for a moment, allowing our newly discovered facts about each other to sink in. I liked how almost every day I learned something new about him.

“You were handsome before you bulked up, Moni.” It wasn’t often that I used this nickname with him. His old nickname I only used when I was feeling extra sentimental with him. And then, I have no idea what possessed me to say it, but I admitted something that I never thought I would. “I actually had a crush on you back then. I thought you were really good-looking.”

He looked shocked and confused.

It was because of his reaction that I didn't regret being honest with him. He needed to know. Needed to realize that he wasn't the ugly duckling he thought he was. “You’re pretty hot now, but you didn’t have to bulk up. I always thought you were handsome.”

Still looking shocked, he began to speak, “You thought of me as a kid back then. You treated me like one.”

He was right. Upon first meeting them, I treated them like boys. It was the reason why it took many of us a long time to form a genuine friendship. The guys took issue with the way I addressed them—as if they were all teenagers. The maknae line enjoyed it mostly, but Namjoon, Yoongi, Hobi, and Jin made remarks on my treatment of them. In the beginning, it was what kept us from having a full, honest friendship. Due to our different cultures, we both acted in ways that prevented us from being close.

Over the years, I changed my demeanor with them. I still babied Jungkook, Tae, and Jimin occasionally, but I learned to speak to the others on a more equal level. As the eldest, I was the one who insisted on the use of banmal when we were alone. The maknae line didn’t take long to convince, and my friendship with Hobi had naturally gotten to that point after a couple of years. Yoongi didn’t take long to convince. But it had been Namjoon who kept up the boundaries for a lot longer. Out of all the members, it was Namjoon who was the most straight-edge and conservative when it came to manners—at least with me.

“May I remind you that you’re the one who refused to drop honorifics when speaking to me? It took you years to finally drop the noona with me,” I accused.

“Jungkook, Jimin, and Tae still call you noona,” he threw back.

“That’s different.”

“How so?”

“They’re like my baby brothers.”

“So the rest of us aren’t your brothers?” he asked with a teasing tone.

“Jin and I are the same age, so he's always been like a normal brother to me—except when he acts like a child, then he's more of a younger, annoying little brother. Yoongi and Hobi are like my older brothers,” I said the phrase in English. “It never felt right when they called me noona.”

“What about me?” he asked. “Did you ever think of me as your brother?”

I could feel my face scrunching up in disgust at the thought. “Not at all.”

There was a slightly hurt look on his face. “You didn’t think of me as part of your family?”

“I always thought of you different than the others,” I said simply.

Before he could actually get upset from my words—and not just pretending he was—I began explaining myself, “What I talk to you about, I would never be able to tell the other guys. Not even my actual brothers. There are things that I don’t even share with them.”

This didn’t seem to make things better. “So, I’m one of your girlfriends?”

The thought of it made me giggle. “Definitely not a girlfriend. Believe me, I’m well aware you’re male.” My eyes automatically went to his muscular arms.

“Then what am I?” he repeated.

I smiled widely at him and made my way over to him. “My best friend. I can tell you everything. I can hang out with you all the time and not get bored. You’re the person I know won’t think of me as uncool when I analyze a book or a movie or a character. You don’t poke fun at my journaling. You challenge me and take me out of my comfort zone. You’re the reason why I like going to museums now and exhibits. I touch amphibians now because of you. I get excited about bike rides. How sad is that?”

He gave me a shy smile.

I walked over to him, glad that he wasn’t bothered with me anymore, even if it had only been for a moment. “You still mad?”

He looked taken aback. “I didn’t get mad.”

“Good. I don’t like the idea of you being mad at me,” I said, feeling the corners of my mouth rising. I leaned over and poked his side.

He pretended as if I had hurt him.

I did it again.

He dodged me and took hold of my hand before I could poke him a third time. “Your giggle is cute.”

I hadn’t noticed I had giggled, but I smacked him with some force. “Don’t call me cute. Makes me think I'm a puppy.”

“But you are cute,” he held both my hands away from him.

I pretended to struggle to get out of his hold. “So, I call you hot and all you got for me is cute? That’s not fair.” I managed to free one hand and slapped his leg.

He was still sitting on the stool. He managed to take hold of both my wrists in just one of his big hands. With the other, he pulled me against his chest and used his legs to wrap around my own legs to keep me still. I was now looking into his chocolate browns. “I also think you’re hot,” his volume was low, but due to my proximity to him, I heard him clearly.

I felt as if I was on one of my bike rides with him, my pulse was picking up. “Liar.”

He pulled me a little closer and dismissed my words. “Especially when you braid your hair because the next day you let it down and your curls make you look pretty fucking sexy.”

“Sexy?” I could feel the warmth on my cheeks now. I knew he was playing with me, but I couldn't help but hope he was being honest. It felt good to know I was attractive to him.

This fucking crush was definitely out of control now. Here I was allowing myself to fantasize.

He stopped manhandling me. His hands were holding my own and his thighs rested along my hips, no longer wrapped around me. I was now leaning onto him of my own volition. And the woodsy scent coming off of him filled my senses.

There was a sharpening and intense look in his eyes. Even with the spectacles on, his eyes drew me in. His monolids were low as his dark irises looked intently into mine. The shape of his eyes reminded me of a dragon's, one getting ready to strike. “Very sexy. And then when you wear yellow or purple…nothing about you is cute anymore.”

Looking into this predator's stare felt too intimidating, my eyes pulled away. But as they made their way down, his full lips filled my view. A smirk danced on them and I felt a need to lean further in.

But the sound of an alarm snapped me back to reality. I jumped back, startled and feeling embarrassed.

I heard a low grunt come from him when I stepped away. I walked to my phone, turning off my alarm. I had set up a reminder to be in bed by 3 AM. I had to slightly tug my hands from Namjoon’s and walked over to my phone.

I took some deep breaths as I turned off my alarm. The distance between us was making me think a little clearer. “I should really head to bed.”

I didn’t wait for him to answer as I closed my laptop and cleaned up a little. The workshop tomorrow was going to be held here anyway, so I didn’t have to disassemble anything.

“I should get some sleep too,” Namjoon said as he also tidied up.

After we cleared things up in dead silence, we made our way up the stairs.

When we reached my room, I mumbled a quick “Good night.” I made a step to my room.

However, Namjoon had other plans. We usually hugged goodbye at the end of the night after hanging out. But because we were going to see each other again in a few hours, I hadn’t thought about hugging him. I mean, we hadn't hugged that night I had slept over at the dorms. He, on the other hand, wanted to continue our ritual.

He was so smooth I didn’t notice him leaning over to wrap his arm around my back until I was in his cozy embrace. I tried to lift my hand and wrap my arms around him, but I was too in shock to move.

“Night.” His voice almost sounded one with the night, so calm and still.

I felt his full lips brush against my forehead, leaving a feeling of warmth behind.

In all our years of being friends, we had only kissed a handful of times. And it had always been on top of the head, where there was plenty of hair in the way of us feeling lips against flesh. I should be questioning why he was kissing me on the forehead right now, but instead, I was wondering if he was going to wrap his other arm around me and pull me closer. Maybe lean down more to place those lips against mine.

But, as quickly as I had found his warmth against me, I found it cold as he stepped back. Even in the darkness, I saw the smirk on his face. The light glistering from the window allowed me to see the wink he gave me behind his glasses right before he went into his room and close the door.

I took a few steps back into my own room and shut the door behind me, completely baffled by what had just occurred.

Had he just put the moves on me?

That smirk, the hug, the wink…. I had seen Namjoon interact with other girls before. I could tell when he was interested and working up the courage to ask a girl out. His whole persona had felt and looked like that.

Was Kim Namjoon into me??

MASTERLIST

Chapters: 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8 - 9 - 10 - 11 - 12 - 13 - 14 - 15 - 16 - 17 - 18 - 19 - 20 - 21 - 22 - 23 - 24 - 25 - 26 - 27 - 28 - 29 - 30

[cali-holland]

Under the Stars- Tom Holland One Shot

Pairing: Tom Holland X Reader

Prompt: When you invite Tom and Harrison to go to a cabin in the woods with your old college friends, Tom devises a plan to finally confess his feelings for you. Little does he know, the cabin belongs to your ex-boyfriend, and he’s also seeking your attention this week.

Word Count: 12k

Warnings: slow burn (ish), swearing, sexual themes (jokes/references), the reader kinda gets sexually harassed (nothing actually happens), fist fight + some blood, tom being a simp

A/N: this was a nine month process, so i hope you enjoy :) also thank you to @duskholland​ for being so supportive and reading through this fic and editing it. love you hannah! + Also reposting this because the tags didn’t work the first time :/ and tag list will be in a reblog!

Masterlist   Tom Holland Masterlist

*Moodboard is mine, pics used are not *

~~~

When you walked into Tom and Harrison’s house, you weren’t expecting to hear odd grunts coming from the living room. You’d heard many strange noises made in that house— a good amount of their sources were still unknown, but you’d never heard such aggressive grunts. For a moment, you considered slowly backing out of the house and knocking on the door. It would be easy to pretend like you didn’t have a key so you didn’t have to walk in on anyone doing anything gross in the other room.

But then Harrison walked into the entryway, smiling at you as a greeting, “Hey, Y/N.”

“Hey,” You replied, closing the front door hesitantly behind you. You pointed towards the living room, “Do I wanna know what’s going on in there?”

Before he could reply, there was a loud bang from the living room, followed by a string of curses. Forgetting all worries of what may or may not have been the cause of the noises, you hurried into the other room with Harrison trailing behind you.

Tom laid on the floor, groaning in pain as he clutched his foot. Tessa, who had been checking up on her owner, popped up happily when she saw you, rushing over to greet you at your feet. Tom looked up at you and Harrison in the door, forcing out his best smile. You stared at the large tent that was currently taking up most of the space in the living room, questioningly.

“Why do you have a tent set up?” You asked. Tom hopped up off the floor, standing beside the tent.

“Well, our camping trip is this weekend, so I thought I’d make sure it’s still durable.” Tom said proudly. He put a hand against the tent in an attempt to be smooth, but the tent came collapsing down, making Tessa bolt behind you from the sudden loud noise.

“And he wanted to make sure he could actually set up a tent, which clearly he can’t,” Harrison stated, and Tom glared at him in response.

“Were you going to tell him?” You laughed, turning to the blond beside you.

“And miss the opportunity to see him struggle setting up a tent for forty minutes? No, I didn’t tell him.” He smirked, only making Tom more frustrated and embarrassed.

“Tom, it’s a cabin. You don’t need a tent unless you don’t want to stay with everyone else.” You explained. “I just said camping because it’s easier to call it that.”

“Fuck you, mate.” He grumbled to Harrison, flipping him off before starting to put away the mess of a tent. You stepped in to help him, and Harrison just laughed to himself before leaving.

“I really thought you would’ve known. Did you really think I’d invite you and Harrison to spend several days in the woods with me and my college friends in tents?” You joked, “Besides, I didn’t think you’d come if it was actual camping.”

Tom paused his movements, but you continued to undo the poles, taking no notice of his action, “Why wouldn’t I go if it was actual camping?”

“I don’t know.” You shrugged, looking at him with your usual charming smile, “You’re not the outdoorsy, camping type. You don’t exactly go out and rough it in the woods on the weekend, like Will or Tyler; you play golf with Harrison and your dad.”

While your words were well-intended and teasing, Tom couldn’t help but take them to heart. He took everything you said to heart.

It was hard for him to be so helplessly in love with you, his best friend (besides Harrison) from BRIT school, for the past few years while you were completely blind to it. Normally, he’d do little things to impress you because he still wasn’t sure if he wanted you to know about his feelings— if you knew, there was a chance you’d reject him, and Tom wouldn’t know what to do with himself if that happened. Recently though, he’s started to feel like his heart was going to explode if he didn’t tell you soon, but that didn’t mean he knew how to tell you.

So when you asked if he wanted to go on a camping trip with you, of course he said yes right away. His mind told him that, no, he really wasn’t the outdoorsy, “roughing it” kind of guy, but his heart told him it was a chance with you. He was a sap and thought that maybe he’d pluck up the courage to tell you how he felt under a moonlit campsite, maybe even the two of you could share a tent, maybe he could kiss you in the lake— god, did he want to kiss you.

That had all come crashing down when he’d realized it wasn’t a romantic camping getaway. You’d invited Harrison and a few college friends, friends that neither Tom nor Harrison had ever met. And there was one friend in particular who Tom never wanted to meet— Will, your ex-boyfriend. You two ended things mutually, but Tom couldn’t stop himself from feeling like he needed to compete against Will, especially when he discovered it was Will whose family owned the land you’d be camping on; Will who took you on hikes all around your college town; Will who taught you how to fish and how to kayak with the lakes nearby; Will who one time got bitten by a rattlesnake and sucked out the venom himself; Will who could climb any mountain and come back unscathed. Will was an outdoorsy “roughing it” badass fucker that Tom despised.

And now, you had just furthered proved that Tom was a delicate flower compared to the lumberjack prick that was Will. He didn’t care about being compared to Will’s best friend, Tyler, who (from what you’d told Tom) was in a serious relationship with your other friend, Jane. Besides Jane, the other person accompanying you all to the cabin was Rose, your best friend and Will’s sister. Needless to say, Tom was very grateful that Harrison was coming along too— he didn’t think he could handle a Will-centered week alone.

“We can just leave this for now. I know I promised you Nando’s before we leave.” Tom said, getting up from his spot on the floor.

“Are you sure? We can just get it on the way to the airport.” You said, looking at the tent mess before you.

“Come on, it’ll be fine.” He held a hand out to you and you took it, so that he could pull you up. Before you two could make it out the door, Harrison arrived downstairs with a loaded hiking backpack in hand.

“I know you’re not trying to sneak to Nando’s without me.” He said, and Tom glared at him from behind your back. Harrison was very well aware of Tom’s feelings for you— everyone was except for you, and he took every chance he could get at being a little shit about it, which included ruining quality time for Tom to spend with you.

The three of you left to grab your last meal in the UK before heading back to their house. Tom finished putting away the tent, and Harrison loaded up Harry’s car with your bags as well as his and Tom’s. Harry (through bribery from Tom) drove you all to the airport for the first step in your camping trip.

Since you went to school in the US, all of your friends would be meeting you across the pond. Will’s family cabin was located in Maine, so the flight wasn’t too bad for the three of you— though Tom wished it was longer so he could devise a more accurate plan to impress you this weekend. He had to prove that he could be the outdoorsy badass guy you wanted. He had to outcompete Will.

“Why would you have to outcompete him?” Harrison asked Tom after hearing his dilemma. Fortunately, you were getting the rental car for the three of you to make it to the cabin.

“Because it’s clearly a competition.” Tom stated, nervously fidgeting with his fingers as he looked over at you across the way. “She told me I’m not outdoorsy like Will- that makes it a competition and I have to beat him.”

As much as Harrison loved to see his friend fail at keeping it together around you, something felt wrong about telling him, ‘yeah, it’s totally a competition, so go beat up her lumberjack ex’. Instead, he tried, “I don’t think that’s what Y/N meant. You do golf more than you go camping.”

But Tom took no notice of his advice, “Just watch. I’m going to be the manliest man this weekend.”

“Hey guys,” You smiled, coming up to them, making Tom jump very unmanly-like in the process. “You ready to go?”

The journey to the cabin was a fairly long one. After a couple of hours of driving, you parked the car in one of those reserved parking lots off the side of the road. Tom and Harrison both looked around in confusion, spotting nothing but trees and a gas station.

“Why are we stopped?” Tom asked you as you got out of the car. Tom and Harrison followed you out of the car.

“We gotta hike in.” You replied. “The cabin’s down by the lake, so there’s no actual road to get there. It’s only about a mile and a half hike in. Be ready for lots of hiking. I think tomorrow we’re going to hike 12 miles.”

By the time you three got to the little a-frame cabin, it was already dinner time, which was great because that meant you three could sleep soon. The five hour time difference was already starting to hit. Before you could even step inside the cabin, your best friend met you with a bone-crushing hug.

“You’re here!” Rose smiled, stepping out of the hug after a moment.

“We made it.” You laughed. Your other friend, Jane, stepped up next to hug you. “I missed you two so much.”

“We missed you too.” Jane replied. You caught their eyes trailing over to Tom and Harrison behind you, and you remembered that they hadn’t met before. 

“Oh, girls, this is Tom and Harrison; guys, this is Rose and Jane.” You introduced the two parties with a smile. After a polite exchanging of handshakes, you looked at the two girls curiously, “Where are the boys?”

“Will wanted to get in a light swim before dinner.” Rose laughed, and Jane made her way back to the kitchen. “Come on, I’ll show you your rooms.”

Rose gave the three of you a little tour of the cabin. The front door had placed you all in a little entryway room with a simple, wooden staircase taking up most of the room; a fireplace sat beside the stairs with a small loveseat across from it. Besides a rather large bookshelf, it was relatively empty, but elegantly simple nonetheless. There were four doors downstairs, all intricately designed with the same light wood color as the stairs. The first door on the left was explained to be Will’s room, and the second was Tyler and Jane’s. The third stood as the main bathroom, as Rose described it. The fourth door led to Tom and Harrison’s room.

It wasn’t very big— neither of the rooms were according to Rose, but that was the a-frame style of a quaint log cabin. A bunk bed sat on the side of the room with a small wood dresser across from it. There was enough space for the two boys to coexist, and Tom was just grateful he didn’t have to bunk with Will of all people; he was glad he had his best friend with him.

The upstairs of the cabin held the open space of the kitchen and the main living room. With large glass windows covering one of the walls, the living room had a magnificent view of the woods outside, and three couches were set in place to overlook it. Under the couches sat a large bear rug, one which both Tom and Harrison eyed suspiciously at first before Rose laughed it off, reassuring them that it was fake. Behind the couches, the dining room was situated beneath a beautiful antler chandelier and set for eight places, completing the rustic vibe of the cabin. The kitchen, while it was small, seemed to be just as well put together as the rest of the cabin, complete with a breakfast bar. The smell of Jane’s favorite lemon salmon filled the air, making you even more excited for dinner.

Next was your own room, which was just past the kitchen. A queen bed was pushed in a nook with only the foot of the bed accessible. Unlike Tom and Harrison, you and Rose didn’t mind sharing a bed, which is why they got the smallest room downstairs. Right beside your bedroom door was another bathroom.

“You brought stuff for s’mores, right?” You asked Rose as you walked with her, Tom, and Harrison off the cabin’s porch to the nearby shed where they kept all of their hiking and lake gear.

“Yes, absolutely!” She eagerly replied, a happy skip in her step.

“S’mores are a real thing?” Tom questioned in disbelief.

“Of course! You can’t camp without—” You let out a shriek as you felt cold, wet arms wrap around your waist, picking you up and spinning you around. You laughed, immediately knowing it was Will. “Oh my god, Will! Put me down! You’re all wet.”

Will chuckled, setting you back down on the solid ground, “Well, if it gets you wet.”

“Fuck off.” You scoffed, smacking his chest playfully. It was then that you realized he was shirtless— shirtless and dripping wet from the lake and gloriously tan and somehow more built than the last time you saw him. Tyler, on the other hand, was still Tyler; still an attractive young guy, but not attractive to you and that most likely has to do with him dating Jane for as long as you’ve known him.

“Ty!” You smiled, hugging him tightly, not even caring if your clothes got wet and gross anymore. You’d just change later when you could.

Tom straightened up a bit, already feeling uneasy about Will’s presence. Will looked like the lovechild of Zac Efron and Chris Evans, with a hint of Scott Eastwood; he was perfect, there was nothing wrong with him. It made Tom question why you two broke up. Even though Tom knew you’d said it was mutual, he also knew it took a lot for girls to walk away from guys that look like that. Meanwhile, Harrison just bit his lip to keep from commenting on his friend’s ridiculous territorial issues. 

“So, you two must be Tom and Harrison.” Will held out a hand to them, smiling politely. Tom took his hand, trying to subtly shake it sternly as if to prove he was better than Will— childish, Tom knew it, but he already hated this guy with his six pack abs and perfectly white smile. Will didn’t back down though, squeezing Tom’s hand equally as hard. Noticing both guys tensing up, you looked between them awkwardly, having never seen either of them put on the tough guy act.

With introductions out of the way, you all trekked back inside the cabin. While Will, Tyler, and even you changed into dry clothes, Rose helped Jane finish dinner, leaving Tom to frustratedly rant to Harrison in their room.

“God, he’s so annoying.” Tom scoffed.

“He said two words to you.” Harrison stated, “Try to play nice. I don’t think Y/N wants you two to keep having a ‘my dick’s bigger’ contest.”

“But mine is and I know it!” He exclaimed, before realizing he didn’t know how thin the walls were- and how odd that implication was, “Whatever. He’s stupid. This trip’s stupid.”

Harrison was too busy laughing  to even attempt a response to his friend. Instead, there was a knock on the door, pulling both of them from their conversation. Tom opened the door and immediately softened when he saw you, clad in one of his old sweatshirts that he didn’t even realize you still had. It gave him a sliver of hope that maybe, just maybe, he didn’t need to worry that much about Will this week.

“Nice shirt.” Tom commented with a smile.

“Thanks,” You smiled back, “I’ve actually been meaning to give it back to you.”

“What? Why?”

“Is dinner ready?” Harrison asked, cutting off the two of you and reminding you both of his presence. As if on cue, his stomach growled loudly.

“Yes, it is.” You laughed, almost embarrassed from forgetting why you had been at their door in the first place. You tugged on Tom’s hand, pulling him out of the room. Harrison grumbled something dejectedly, but you paid no mind to it. Tom sent his friend an apologetic look, though he made no attempt to make Harrison any less of the unofficial third wheel on the journey upstairs to the dinner table.

It didn’t go unnoticed by Tom how you sat beside Will, even if Tom got the free seat beside you. Harrison slipped into the seat next to him with Rose to his right. The dinner of salmon with potatoes, salad, and bread seemed simple enough, but it was still quite possibly the best fish you’d ever had.

“Did you get a bone?” You asked Tom, seeing him awkwardly moving his mouth like his tongue was fishing out a hard piece of salmon. Blushing from you calling attention to his struggle, he held up a napkin to cover his mouth, trying to spit out the bone without it looking too gross.

“Yeah,” He admitted sheepishly, muffled by the napkin.

“I thought you got them all out.” Jane said, looking at Tyler expectantly.

“Don’t look at me, that was Will’s job.” Tyler laughed as he used his friend as the scapegoat.

“Must’ve missed one.” Will shrugged, before joking, “You’re still welcome that I caught these.”

“You caught this salmon?” You said, “I thought you only did catch and release?”

“I still do, for the most part, but this salmon was too good of an opportunity to pass up.” He explained. Tom was already boiling with embarrassment, and now he had jealousy bubbling over- of course this perfect fish was caught by the perfect outdoor man beside you.

“So, Tom, Harrison, we were talking about going for a run around the lake tomorrow morning. Want to come?” Tyler asked.

“Sure. How far?” Harrison replied, and Tom nodded in agreement.

“The loop’s about five miles.” Will answered.

“Are you going to run with us?” Tom asked you, knowing back home in Kingston you’d sometimes join Harrison on runs. Tom wasn’t the type to just go out for a casual run like his best friend was, but he wasn’t about to back down from this.

“Nah, you two can keep up with the cross country runners.” You joked, “I’d much rather save my energy for the hike.”

Once dinner ended and no one choked on any more fishbones, you all migrated to the couches. Much to Tom’s chagrin, you sat in the middle couch between Will and Rose, while Tom and Harrison sat on the couch opposite a very cuddled up Jane and Tyler. The fireplace in the corner crackled, keeping the room comfortably warm. When Rose suggested you all play charades, the entertainment for the evening was decided, especially considering the cabin had very weak cell-signal and no television.

“What are the teams?” You asked, sitting dead in the middle of everyone with three friends to your left and three to your right.

“Let’s do 3 against 4, so you choose who you wanna be with, Y/N.” Jane suggested as Rose stood up to get a boxed set of charade cards from the game cabinet near the kitchen. You looked between the two sets of friends. You wanted to lean towards Tom, Harrison, and Rose, because the two boys were incredible at charades, and Rose was your go-to partner for Password at least.

“Come on, you know you wanna be with us.” Will teased, throwing an arm over your shoulder.

“Just for that, nope.” You laughed and took his arm off you. You stood up from that couch and squeezed in between Tom and the arm. To make room for you and to mock Will, Tom casually put his arm on your shoulder and you made no effort to take it off.

Rose returned with the box of cards and the game began with you and Jane pantomiming first. The words ranged from silly ones like centipede to more inventive ones like lapdance; either way, you all were laughing and enjoying the evening. Tom was highly appreciative of the humor because more than once, you laughed so hard that you fell into him, clutching his knee or completely falling over into his lap. It wasn’t anything out of the usual for him to see you so effortlessly happy, but he enjoyed all the little touches.

“Okay, okay.” You breathed out, doing your best to compose yourself. You stood up from the couch with Tyler so that you two could read the answer and continue the round. Reading over the card, “Catch 22”, you began to think about what you could do to act out the card. As if it wasn’t impossible enough to describe it with words, you had to act it out. But then the lightbulb went off- you had a secret advantage and he was sitting right in front of you, as long as he could figure it out.

“Ready?” Tyler asked you nervously, and you nodded. Tyler started with the usual way of beginning: how many words and what it is. You immediately pointed at Harrison.

“Me?” Harrison spoke in confusion, and you nodded before pointing to your stomach, doing your best to act his death from the series.

“Catch 22?” Tom offered, and Harrison looked at him dumbfounded, still trying to connect how it was him as your main clue.

“Ah, thank god.” You smiled, cheering as he guessed it right. Tyler and the others sighed.

“How the fuck did you get that?” Jane questioned.

“Haz, here, was in the show.” Tom replied, proud of his friend. You were surprised by your college friends’ collective shock, but you were most intrigued by Rose’s reaction.

“Oh my god, I thought you looked familiar.” She said, impressed.

“Wait, you actually saw it?” Harrison asked.

“Yeah, I think I might have cried when you died.” She admitted, brushing a loose hair behind her ear, and that’s when it clicked for you- she was totally into Harrison.

“And you’re an actor too, Tom, right?” Will spoke up, casually taking a drink of his beer. You eyed him skeptically; he knew Tom was an actor. Back when you two were dating, you’d talk about your best friend’s accomplishments, so why was he now asking? Your only answer was it would clearly get a rise out of, at least, you, if not Tom as well.

“Yeah, only been in little indie movies. Nothing anyone’s heard of.” Tom played it off jokingly, causing you to smack him on the arm a little, your hand resting on his bicep.

“My mom loves that movie you did with Ewan McGregor.” Rose commented.

“Ah yeah,” Will laughed, “The one where you’re like 12.”

“I wasn’t 12, but thank you.” Tom replied sarcastically, and you could tell he was biting back a scoff. 

“Well, we’ve all seen the Marvel movies so you can brag a little about those.” You teased, making him blush.

“I know I cried when everyone was getting dusted.” Jane stated in a way to poke fun at Rose’s previous words.

“Never saw them.” Will shrugged carelessly.

“Yes, you did.” You corrected him immediately, and you felt Tom tense a little under your touch. While Tom liked that you were being supportive about this, he couldn’t help but feel like something was wrong.

Will acknowledged Tom’s clenched jaw and decided to press it a bit further, “Babe, if you’re talking about Infinity War, then, no, I didn’t pay attention.” He chuckled, “Don’t you remember we were in the middle of something?”

Tom wondered, at first, what he meant exactly. You dropped your hand from Tom’s arm and covered your face in embarrassment, but before you could comment, Rose let out a whine, “Gross, I was right next to you two.”

“Not like you’ve never gotten it on in a movie theater.” Tyler joked.

“Can we please not talk about this?” You groaned, getting up from the couch. “I’m going to bed. I’m tired.”

“That’s not a bad idea.” Jane stated as she stood up with a yawn. You closed your door, escaping to the privacy of your room, not wanting to think about how your ex just told everyone about that night- in your defense, you’d already seen the movie before so you weren’t missing anything.

Tyler and Will followed after Jane, leaving Tom, Harrison and Rose as they cleaned up the few cards that were left out. Feeling the awkwardness radiating off of Tom, Rose delicately spoke up, “Will’s just being a dick.”

“It’s fine.” Tom reassured her.

“Did you really cry when I died?” Harrison asked her the question that’d been on his mind since the second she’d made the comment. They started talking about the show, and Tom took that as a sign to leave. He thought for a moment about knocking on your door and checking in on you, but then he realized it might be too uncomfortable for you to talk about. There were times, like tonight with charades, that Tom considered maybe you liked him back, based on all your little touches here and there, but then, with Will’s comments floating around his mind, his thoughts were plagued by the doom of the friendzone. Tom didn’t know if he’d be able to sleep tonight knowing that you and your annoying ex ‘got it on’ in the theater during his own movie- what if he was dying on screen but you were too enraptured in Will to cry like Rose had cried over Harrison dying?

Tom only had a few minutes to himself before Harrison came back into their shared room, asking him, “How’re you feeling about the run tomorrow?”

“It’s going to kill me.” Tom sighed, and Harrison shrugged before climbing into the top bunk.

“Should’ve been running with me.” He laughed, “It’s not even that far.”

“I haven’t run five straight miles since Jake nearly killed me at the gym.” He replied, tidying up his bag.

“Why are you cleaning?” Harrison asked, looking down at his friend. “Are you worried Y/N’s going to come into the room or something?”

“Shove off.” Tom grumbled. Harrison took off his sweaty socks that he’d neglected to remove before getting into his bed and threw them down at his friend. One missed Tom completely, and the other clung to his shoulder. “That’s fucking gross.”

“If you’re cleaning, then clean them up.” He snickered. Tom threw the sock back at his friend, but it missed and weakly fell to the ground. A knock came from the other side of the door, and Tom opened it, smiling when he saw it was you, his absolute favorite person on this godforsaken trip. While you looked rather cute in your casual summer pajamas, he frowned when he saw his sweatshirt in your hands.

“Are you returning it?” He asked, and you laughed.

“It doesn’t smell like you anymore.” You said quietly, hoping Harrison didn’t hear your words. You held it out to Tom, “I figured I can give it back to you for a time, and then steal it once it smells like you again.”

“Wait a second.” Tom took the sweatshirt from you and disappeared into the room, rummaging through his once neat backpack to grab out another sweatshirt. He handed it to you, “Maybe this could suffice for now?”

Smiling, you sniffed it a little before tugging it on, “Thanks. It’s so cold upstairs, I don’t know how I’d sleep without it.”

“You could always bring your own.” Harrison said from the top bunk. Tom turned and chucked the other sweatshirt at him. You rolled your eyes at his words.

“Watch it, Osterfield, or your mattress is going to end up in the middle of the lake with you still sleeping on it.” You playfully threatened.

“I’m quaking with fear.” He laughed, laying down on the bed out of sight.

“Well, I should go.” You told Tom, “Thank you for the sweatshirt. Good night.”

“Good night, Y/N.” He smiled softly at you. As you walked away, he slowly closed the door, pleased with himself and his choice in sweatshirts. He turned to finish getting ready for bed, just in time for Harrison to throw the sweatshirt back at him.

“I will kick you out of this room.” Tom grumbled.

“I’d like to see you try.”

You didn’t sleep well that night. Even with Tom’s sweatshirt, your room was unbearably cold, and it didn’t help that Rose snored. With only a few hours of sleep under your belt, you woke up the next morning to the sun streaming in through the large window behind the bed and Rose already up and out of the room. You padded into the kitchen, making yourself some tea with the rustic teapot that was set out on the counter. Spotting Rose and Jane standing out on the balcony, you made your way outside.

“Good morning.” You said through a yawn, coming to stand beside Rose.

“We were wondering when you were going to wake up.” Jane teased. You looked at your two friends quizzically, taking a sip of your steaming tea.

“You already missed part one of the gun show.” Rose joked, sitting up straighter to look over the edge of the balcony, “They should be back any second.”

“Oh God.” You laughed, remembering the boys and their run this morning.

“I know I’m with Tyler, but damn, Y/N.” She teased, and Rose nudged you playfully. “Here they come.”

Seeing motion through the trees, you looked over at the runners. It was obvious they were racing the last bit of the run, considering how triumphant Harrison looked when he arrived first with Will right on his tail. And then came Tyler, and finally Tom. There was probably only a few seconds between their arrival, but it was still amusing to spy the looks on their faces. They were all shirtless and glistening in a layer of sweat, and they hadn’t noticed the three of you on the balcony at all- not that you were complaining. You’d rather not have them catch you all checking them out so unabashedly.

“Look at that. 24 abs right there.” Jane let out a small sigh. While her comment was for all four boys, her eyes stayed trained on Tyler. Rose, on the other hand, had her eyes on Harrison’s figure, which you noted to tease her about later. But you, you couldn’t help but check out Tom’s bare torso- there was a reason you didn’t watch either Spider-Man movie with him- you always ended up a little too focused on his shirtless scenes.

“Enjoying the show?” Tyler called up to the three of you, a cheeky smirk on his face, as they all made their way up to the cabin. You could’ve sworn you saw Tom blush a little when he met your gaze before Harrison playfully shoved his friend, making Tom lose focus on you and shove him right back.

“Boys.” Rose laughed quietly to you. You bit your lip, nodding in agreement.

“I’m glad I didn’t miss part two.”

The boys made their way into the kitchen, seeking out some water and gatorade as you and the girls went back inside to greet them. The sweet smell of salmon from last night was gone, overthrown by the ever lovely smell of sweaty men.

“It smells like a gym in here.” Rose gagged in disgust.

“I would’ve gone for sweaty ballsack, but yours is much nicer.” Jane laughed.

“Janie would know.” Will teased, clapping Tyler on the shoulder as he drank from his water, making the other choke a little.

“So how was the run?” You asked Tom as he and Harrison came over to you, Tom’s bottle of gatorade almost gone already. The other four got engrossed in their own conversation.

“Just a small workout, nothing too bad.” He replied, brushing it off.

“He was dying.” Harrison stated, making you laugh. “I told him he’s got to run with me more.”

“Well, you won, Haz, so congrats.” You replied.

“How did you know we were racing?” Tom asked. His ears turned pink from thinking that you knew he came in last.

“The four of you act like teenage boys; of course you’re going to make a race out of a casual run.” You teased.

“We should probably go stretch before our muscles tighten up again.” Harrison said, already backing up towards the stairs. Tom made his way to follow him, and you spoke up.

“I’ll come with.” You offered, setting your mug of tea on the counter. You followed them downstairs and out to the patio, feeling like you might as well spend some alone time with your two closest friends.

“You two think you can make it on the hike today?” You teased, already seeing Tom walk a little funny.

“Yeah, yeah, we got this.” He reassured you, sitting down on the solid ground to start stretching his legs. You started to stretch with them, and Harrison looked at you funny for it.

“Why are you stretching?” He asked with a laugh.

“It helps with flexibility.” You shrugged, switching legs as they did, all three of you mirroring the same poses. “How was the lake?”

“It was nice. We weren’t exactly looking at it though.” Tom replied with a chuckle.

“I don’t know, you were going so slow, I thought you were.” Harrison joked and Tom kicked his foot out, hitting Harrison in the leg.

“It’s shit like this that made me believe you were racing.” You laughed.

“I don’t do long distance running. I like focusing on my abs a lot more.” Tom defended himself. You flicked your eyes down to his abs, nodding a little, but Tom was so focused on his stretching that he had missed your small action, whereas Harrison fully caught it. He laughed, sending you a wink, and you flipped him off. Tom caught that exchange though, “Did I miss something?”

“Nope.” You replied quickly, only making Harrison laugh harder, “He’s just being a dumbass. Onto hamstrings.”

The three of you laid down to stretch your hamstrings, and you heard Tom let out a small groan from beside you. “I can’t do this. I fucking hate leg day.”

“Need help?” You offered. Before he could protest, you were already on your feet. He held his leg up as high as he could, and you pressed on his foot to stretch his hamstring even more.

“What if I need help too?” Harrison pouted, even though he was stretching his leg just fine.

“Sorry, Haz, it’s just you and your hand.” You joked, making Tom laugh.

“I see how it is. Ha ha, it’s me and my hand, and Tom and your hand, Y/N.” He sarcastically replied, as you dropped Tom’s leg and he bent his knee for you to lean on his shin. You helped him to deepen the stretch through his leg.

“Someone’s jealous.” Tom said, before grimacing a little.

“Was that too far?” You asked, loosening your hold on his leg, not wanting to overstretch his hamstring.

“A little.” He replied.

“God, Y/N don’t be so rough on him.” Harrison piped in, still having no issue stretching on his own.

“Haz, if you’re going to be a pouty baby about not having a stretching buddy, talk to Rose. She was totally checking you out earlier.” You stated, trying to change the conversation off of Harrison’s unnecessary innuendos. You let go of Tom’s leg and reached for his foot to stretch his other hamstring.

“Wait, really?” He asked, dropping his leg to peer at you with a serious look on his face.

“Yeah, why would I lie to you about that?” You laughed, “Besides, I don’t think I’ve ever seen her read a book, so I think she was lying about Catch 22.”

Flustered, Wide eyed and blushing, Harrison mumbled something about grabbing a shower before bolting off. You exchanged a curious look with Tom, but he followed after his friend.

You made your way inside after them and went to fix yourself another cup of tea. When you saw Will alone in the kitchen, you momentarily considered changing your mind and going to your rook, but it was too late, as he had already seen you.

“Want a cup?” He asked, holding up the coffee pot after he finished pouring himself a cup.

“No thanks.” You replied and made your way to the kettle.

“Enjoy the show earlier? Tyler and I started this new training routine that’s supposed to help with bulking up.” Will said. It took everything in you to not roll your eyes at his words.

“And how’s that working out for you?” You asked, not even trying to hide your disinterest. You still hadn’t forgiven him for his immature comments last night. Plus, the more you saw Will interact with Tom, the more justified you felt with your annoyance.

Will stepped closer to you. Slowly, he took one of your hands in his and pressed it to his abs, and you’d be lying if you said you couldn’t feel every part of his toned stomach. As much as you hated to admit it, you felt like you were falling under his trance again. “There’s more where that came from. Why don’t you come by my room tonight?”

He dropped your hand, and you were pulled out of your foggy state. You stepped away, turning away from him to continue getting yourself some tea. You felt his body envelope yours from behind. His head rested on your shoulder and his hands smoothed over your waist. Pressing a kiss to your cheek, he murmured, “I miss you.”

At his words, something inside of you snapped and you jolted away from his embrace, slapping his hands away. Firmly, you said, “I don’t miss you.”

Will left the room without another word, and you were left to ponder what the hell just happened as you stood alone in the kitchen.

It wasn’t until a few hours later that you all left on the hike, trailing through the towering trees to make your way to a nearby peak. You all stopped a few times for water and some food, and to even just enjoy nature. Between Jane’s ornithology degree, Tyler’s botany background, and Will’s forestry knowledge, identifying the different birds, plants, and trees around you was relatively easy.

“Can you imagine if we studied something environmental too?” Rose joked, nudging you in the shoulder as Jane mindlessly went on about the bird that had flown past nearly ten minutes ago.

“God, it would never end.” You laughed.

“What did you study?” Harrison asked Rose, making you look at Tom and roll your eyes at your friends.

“I’m a nurse.” She replied, and the two got swept into their own conversation.

“You sore yet?” You asked Tom, poking him in the side as you all continued the hike uphill.

“Me? Sore? Never.” He laughed. He shook his head to try to hide the slight hurt from the question. First, you didn’t think he was outdoorsy enough and now you think he can’t handle doing some mileage. “I’m perfectly fine.”

“Oh sure.” You smiled at him. Tyler pointed out a specific plant as you all passed it, talking about the intricate properties of the shrub.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been more confused about nature.” Tom mumbled to you quietly. Since you two were far enough behind Tyler, Jane, and Will, they couldn’t hear his comment.

“Don’t worry. I have no clue what he’s talking about either.” You reassured him before letting out a small yawn.

“Did you not sleep well last night?” He asked, looking over at you in concern.

“Someone was snoring a bit too loud for me to sleep.” You said, loud enough for Rose to hear. She stopped and spun around to face you, face red in embarrassment.

“It’s a nasal condition! You know how I get when it’s cold!” She defended. As much as she tried to sound angry, she still had a small smile on her face.

“Love you, Rose.” You blew her a kiss, laughing at her reaction. She and Harrison turned back around and continued their conversation about who knows what.

“I think Harrison’s got a nasal condition too.” Tom whispered, making you stifle a laugh to not draw attention back to the two of you.

“Rose doesn’t even snore that loud.” You admitted quietly, “Even with your sweatshirt, I was still too cold to sleep.”

“I can give you another one when we get back. You can double up.” He offered, “But it was pretty cold last night.”

“Thanks. I’ll probably take you up on that.” You smiled softly at him. “You know, I’m really happy you came.”

“I’m happy I came, too. Thanks for inviting me.” He replied, and you nodded in response. Tom paused after a moment, stopping his tracks to look at you with furrowed eyebrows, “Wait, did you not expect me to come?”

You looked at him in confusion, before answering, “I mean I did, but-“

“But I’m not outdoorsy, so you didn’t think I’d actually be here.” Tom grumbled in agitation, beginning to walk again quickly to catch up to the group. You ran up after him.

“Is that what this is about?” You questioned, your voice unintentionally raised, “That I said you weren’t the camping type back home?”

Harrison and Rose turned to look at the two of you, and Tom just bit his tongue to keep from exploding about the sensitive subject. He knew he shouldn’t have asked, but he just felt so inadequate with Will going on and on about trees and shit.

“What is going on with you?” You questioned with a huff of frustration.

“It’s nothing. Let’s just keep going.” Tom stated, shaking his head.

“I’m not going one more step until you tell me what the hell is up.”

“What’s the hold up?” Will called back when he noticed the stop in your hike. Tom went to step forward to continue the journey, but missed his footing on a particularly slick patch of leaves. 

A collective, concerned shout came from you and Harrison as Tom hit the ground. He groaned in pain, and Rose came to his side. All frustration at him slipped out of you as worry flooded your system.

“Tom, oh my god- are you okay?” You asked.

“I think I rolled my ankle.” Tom said, cradling his ankle in his lap.

Rose looked at it briefly, no noticeable swelling or bruising yet. “Can you stand on it?”

“Yeah, I’ll be fine.” He replied before pushing himself to his feet. He bit back a grimace, standing on his ankle as normal, and you didn’t seem to be the only one to notice it. “Let’s finish the hike, yeah?” 

“You’re not hiking on that.” Rose shook her head with a small laugh.

“I don’t want to hold you all back. I can manage it, really.”

“It’s fine. We’ll continue on. Y/N can lead you back.” Jane spoke up, a little smirk playing on her lips.

“I’ll go with.” Harrison offered.

“As the house nurse, I feel obligated to walk back with him.” Rose added, and you caught the blush that touched her cheeks.

And just like that, it was settled. You, Rose, and Harrison would walk back with Tom, who was doing his best not to limp, which everyone saw through. Rose and Harrison made conversation the whole walk back, while you and Tom just stayed awkwardly silent. By the time you all made it back to the house, he still hadn’t spoken to you. You went to put away your hiking gear and found Tom a few minutes later, sitting on the porch as he looked at the forest before him, an ice pack on his elevated ankle to help with potential swelling.

“I meant what I said.” You spoke up quietly as you sat in the chair beside him. When he just continued to look straight ahead and not physically acknowledge your presence, you continued, “I am really happy that you’re here, Tom. I didn’t say that because I didn’t think you’d want to come. The only reason I wouldn’t expect you to come is because you’re always busy. I guess what I really meant was that I’m grateful you were able to make time for me this week, especially because I know the countless other, more fun things you could be doing right now. It really means a lot.”

After another brief silent moment passed between the two of you, he looked over at you with a small frown on his face. “Why would you think I wouldn’t make time for you?”

“Like I said, you’re busy. You do one movie after the other, and I feel like we hardly see each other anymore. It’s,” You trailed off, searching for the right word, “comforting that you’d want to spend your free time with me.”

“You’re my best friend. Of course, I’d want to spend time with you.”

You knew his words were sweet and that he meant every single one of them, but you still felt a small, subtle twist in your gut.  Another unnatural silence fell between the two of you until Rose came outside like a true savior.

“We’re planning on making s’mores tonight, are you down?” She asked, a cheery smile on her face.

“I’m offended you’re even asking me that.” You stated, and she rolled her eyes at you. You turned to Tom, smiling, “You’re going to love them. Just don’t burn yourself.”

“Burn myself?” He looked at you as if you were crazy, making you laugh.

“Don’t scare him.” Rose teased, “Besides, my money’s on Harrison burning himself first.”

“I heard that!” He called from inside the cabin through the screen door.

Just as Rose was about to leave to go back inside, Tom spoke up, raising his hand a little, still confused, “How do you burn yourself on s’mores?”

Several hours later, he got his answer.

“Ow, fuck, shit, ow.” Harrison cursed, dropping his burnt marshmallow into the dirt.

“That’s how.” You laughed as Rose clinked her s’more against yours.

“How do you know when it’s ready?” Tom asked, eyeing the marshmallow at the end of his stick. He slowly rotated the stick in his hands just as you had told him to do.

“Golden brown are the best, but they’re tricky to make because you can burn them instantly, which is what Harrison did.” You teased your blond friend beside you before taking a bite of your perfect s’more and turning back to face Tom on your other side. “Burnt ones aren’t bad, they just have a more burnt flavor, obviously.”

“So is it ready yet?” He questioned, but he was looking at you not at his roasting marshmallow.

“No,” You giggled. You finished off your s’more with another bite and scooted closer to him on the log. You placed your hand on top of his on the stick, twisting it so that the marshmallow was a few inches above the flame instead of right by the firewood. “And you just keep rotating it. You can see there’s already a gold hue to it.”

You smiled, looking over at him to find him already gazing at you with a soft smile of his own playing on his lips. The light from the campfire made his brown eyes sparkle with specks of gold.

“It’s burning!” Jane exclaimed, and you quickly retracted the stick and marshmallow, blowing out the fire on the now burned marshmallow.

“Well, it’s golden on one side, but burnt marshmallows are an essential part of the s’mores making business.” You said as you passed the stick back to Tom. You gathered the two parts of a graham cracker as well as some Hershey’s chocolate and set it up for a s’more.

“I think I need help with this part.” Tom admitted with a chuckle.

“So you put the marshmallow here.” You pointed at the graham cracker topped with a piece of chocolate. He moved the stick to put the marshmallow in its proper position, and then you put the other half of the graham cracker on top. Grasping the two graham crackers with the marshmallow in the middle, you finished, “And now pull out.”

“Hah, pull out.” Tyler laughed at the innuendo through a face full of his double stacked s’mores. Tom did as told, his eyes lighting up in excitement when you presented him his very own s’more.

“Ta-da. It’s real rocket science, isn’t it?” You joked, and Harrison elbowed you, still grumpy that he had lost his first marshmallow and burnt his hand trying to catch it.

“Burnt and fallen marshmallows are just casualties of s’more making.” Rose said.

“S’mores have to be the thing I miss most about living here— the U.K. just doesn’t do camping quite as well.” You stated, shaking your head a little in disbelief.

“How could you miss s’mores more than us?” Will asked, a playfulness in his voice, but you could recognize the serious undertones of his words.

“I’d miss s’mores more than I’d miss you.” Rose teased, saving you from having to actually think of a response.

“Hand me a marshmallow. I’m ready to try again for a golden one.” Tom said to you, and you reached over into the marshmallow bag beside you, slipping him the soft treat.

“Good luck.” You encouraged him with a laugh.

Tom’s second attempt ended up burnt as well, and you gladly ate it while he made his third one. By the time it was golden brown and ready to be eaten, Jane, Tyler, and even Will had retired for the night.

“That tastes so much better not burnt to a crisp.” Tom said, impressed by his own marshmallow-roasting skills.

“Camping heaven.” You agreed, finishing off the s’more he’d burned earlier.

Rose stood up with a small sigh, stretching her arms. “I think I might head to bed.”

“Me too.” Harrison stated, getting up after her. Tom looked at him questioningly, and you bit your lip, giving Rose a teasing look. She rolled her eyes at you, smiling to herself as she turned to head towards the cabin.

Noticing how Harrison’s hand caught hers once they were a decent distance from the campfire, you called out to them, “Good night!”

“Night!” They chorused back.

“Haz and Rose seem to have hit it off.” Tom commented once they were inside. Your eyes drifted from the dying fire up to the starry sky overhead. 

“Yeah, they really have.” You nodded, caught up focusing on the twinkling lights above you. Quietly, you admitted, “I’ll never get tired of looking at the stars.”

“I bet your neck will.” He joked, making you shake your head.

“They’re just so beautiful.” You mumbled.

“Really beautiful.” You heard Tom murmur under his breath. Your eyes flickered over to him, noticing how he was definitely staring at you and not the stars in the sky. When he turned to face the campfire, your eyes diverted back up to the stars, trying your best to suppress how fast your heart was racing.

“I used to know all of the constellations too. Will and I used to camp a lot, and I’d just study the stars until I fell asleep.” You confessed, attempting to strike up a conversation to keep you from your thoughts. When Tom said nothing in reply, a small sigh escaped your lips, and your eyes trailed back down to Tom beside you. Staring right into the dying campfire, he looked deep in thought.

“What’s on your mind?” You asked him, nudging him a little with your shoulder.

“It’s nothing.” Tom shook his head, but his attempts to play off his thoughts didn’t work on you. After a moment, he spoke up, barely meeting your eyes as he did so, “Did you and Will really— you know— in my movie—“ he trailed off, not wanting to finish his question. He was already apprehensive about the answer, and yet he couldn’t help himself from asking.

“In Infinity War?” You asked, laughing lightly at his question, or lack thereof. Looking up towards the sky again, you replied, “Unless you count the fastest handjob ever, no, we didn’t.”

Tom was silent, making you look back over at him. His shoulders were shaking as he bit his lip, doing his best to stifle his laughter.

“Shut up.” You scoffed, playfully hitting his arm. “It wasn’t like you were dying in the scene or anything. You weren’t even on the screen.”

“I didn’t say anything.” He insisted, before breaking into a fit of laughter, unable to contain it any longer. In that moment, you felt complete tranquility. Tom’s laughter broke through the silence of the atmosphere, making your heart flutter in happiness. His eyes were shut, and you could count every crinkle by his eyes. With the fire illuminating his features just right, he was positively glowing. If you wanted any moment to last forever, it was this one. Tom settled his laughter, “Sorry, I shouldn’t be laughing, but it’s just-” He paused, and his smile faltered momentarily, “It’s a relief.”

“A relief?” You repeated before you could help yourself, and Tom realized his words.

He cleared his throat awkwardly, thinking on his feet of an explanation, “It would’ve been really awkward if I was dying, and you and Will- yeah.” He stopped himself short, and a comfortable silence overcame the two of you.

“How’s your ankle feeling?” You asked, not wanting the conversation to end. If it ended, then that meant the night was over and your precious alone time with Tom was over.

“It’s fine, now. Honestly, it didn’t hurt that much.” He replied with a bit of a nod. You watched as he sucked in a tight breath, “I’m sorry about what happened earlier on the hike. I got frustrated and a little jealous. I was so determined to prove that I could be like Will that I just ended up being a dick.”

His words took a moment to sink in, but you found a small smile breaking over your face as you understood the layers of their meaning. You reached out and touched his knee. Softly, you admitted, “You have no reason to be jealous over Will. I’d never want you to be like him. The main reason that I broke up with him was because, well, he’s not you.”

You could see Tom think about your words for a moment before, ever so slowly, he started to lean in. Tom’s lips seemed to fit perfectly with yours, tenderly moving in sync as you both caved into your suppressed feelings. With one hand cupping your cheek, Tom’s other hand moved to your waist, pulling you in closer to him. You paid no mind to the uncomfortableness of your position on the log, too lost in the kiss to think straight. For the second time that night, you wished that this moment would last forever.

But it came to a quick, bittersweet end as Tom pulled away. His face stayed close to yours, his breath fanning over your face. A smile crossed his lips, “That took us way too long.”

“Way, way too long.” You agreed. He went to pull you in for another kiss, but the sudden cold of the dying fire pulled you two back to reality. Almost reluctantly, you said, “I guess we should probably head inside.”

It was far too cold for either of you to want to stay outside without the comforting heat. Gathering the food and putting out the last of the fire, you two walked back to the cabin, hand in hand.

“Thank you for the s’mores.” Tom said quietly to you, aware that most likely everyone in the cabin was sleeping. He placed the last couple bags of marshmallows and graham crackers on the kitchen counter (the chocolate was all eaten long ago), and you made a mental note to take care of it in the morning. 

“Any time.” You joked softly. Tom leaned in to give you a quick, but just as sweet good night kiss.

As he made his way over to the stairs, he spoke up again, “Don’t get too cold tonight.”

“Good night, Tom.” You laughed lightly, turning towards your bedroom door.

“Good night, Y/N.” 

With one last exchange of soft, sleepy smiles, you both turned to go your separate ways.

When you entered your quaint cabin room, you were met with Rose’s snores, a sharp contrast to your favorite sound that was Tom’s laughter from moments ago. You quietly maneuvered around the room, getting ready for bed. A smile ghosted your lips as you tugged on Tom’s hoodie. The familiar warmth and scent enveloping you comfortably.

You waited for sleep to overcome you on the cold bed; it felt like hours (when really, it was probably only ten minutes) before you finally decided to get up. With a small sigh, you shuffled out of the bed. Maybe the couch would give you more peace than your shared room.

As you made your way out of your room, you heard a door downstairs open. Curiously, you peeked down the staircase to see Tom emerging from the bathroom, in nothing but basketball shorts.

“What are you still doing up?” Tom asked you with his voice just above a whisper. You silently made your way down the stairs until you were in front of him.

“Couldn’t sleep. The room hasn’t gotten any warmer since last night.” You admitted, subconsciously crossing your arms.

“Come here.” Tom slowly uncrossed your arms, taking one of your hands loosely in his. He led you to his room. The door creaked open and shed some light into the dark bedroom. Wordlessly, he brought you over to his bed and dropped your hand to shuffle the blankets.

“What about Haz?” You whispered as Tom slipped into his bed, laying sideways and as close to the wall as possible to make some room for you.

“It’ll be fine.” He reassured you. You slid into the bed, finding comfort under the blankets. You laid on your side facing Tom, and it was then that you realized just how small the twin bed was— you two were close enough to each other that you could feel his minty breath fan over your cheeks, which still made you nervous even though just ten minutes ago he’d kissed you.

“We’re never going to fall asleep like this.” You teased softly. Tom let out a quiet laugh, shuffling so he was flatter on his back, giving you room to lay in his arms. With your head pressed to his bare chest and his strong arms circling around you, you finally found warmth.

“You’re really warm.” You mumbled into his chest, snuggling into his embrace and letting your legs tangle comfortably with his. It wasn’t the first time the two of you had cuddled, but it was the first time the two of you have cuddled on a tiny bed and with him being shirtless.

“Makes me the best cuddling partner.” Tom mumbled, his chest shaking lightly underneath you as he chuckled. You hummed in agreement, a smile forming on your face.

“Do you two ever shut up?” You heard Harrison question from the bunk above you.

“Do you always have to ruin a perfectly good moment?” Tom replied, and you subconsciously snuggled deeper into his embrace.

“I better not wake up in the middle of the night to noises.” He grumbled. The bed shuffled as he flipped over in his bed to get comfortable.

“Haz, that’s just you snoring.” You teased. He muttered something incoherent and you whispered to Tom, “Let’s wait until he starts snoring and then move his mattress to the lake.”

“Deal.”

Unfortunately for you but luckily for Harrison, you drifted off quickly, listening to the sound of Tom’s heart beating underneath you. You couldn’t help yourself; he made for the best pillow and the best heat source.

The next morning, you woke up with a start, hearing a loud thud from right beside you. Blearily, you leaned over the edge of the twin bed to find the source of the sound; when you saw a groaning, half-asleep Tom on the floor below you, a fit of laughter overcame you. The blankets were falling off the bed, all tangled up in his legs.

“Did you fall off the bed?” Harrison asked, even though all three of you already knew the answer, and you looked up to see him peering over the edge of the bunk bed.

“It’s not funny.” Tom muttered, frowning in faux annoyance at your continued laughter.

You held your hands out to him, offering to help him up even though you were in an impossible position to really help, still laying in the actual bed. Teasingly, you asked, “You got an owie?”

Chuckling, Tom reached up and grabbed your hands, pulling you off the bed. You let out a yelp as you landed on top of him, in a similar position to just last night. Your legs subconsciously fell on either side of his to somewhat straddle him, and you lifted yourself up on the palms of your hands to look down at him properly, a smile etched on your face. The familiar intoxicating pull from last night returned; you almost forgot Harrison was in the room— key word, almost.

“Get up before I come down there and join in.”

And with that, you quickly got off of Tom, and he scrambled to his feet. As Harrison came down the bunk bed ladder, you and Tom put the blankets back onto the bottom bed. You pondered where last night left the two of you, and you weren’t sure how to approach the subject. You were clearly more than friends, but were you more than friends in front of the others?

“What’s for breakfast?” Harrison asked, cutting you off from your thoughts. 

Over the course of the next few hours, you tried to somehow be alone with Tom to talk things over. It felt odd how things ended last night— not a bad odd, but odd nonetheless. Between the guys going for yet another run and you all spending time at the lake together, it just seemed like the opportunity would never come.

“God, I can’t believe it took you that long.” Rose teased, a giddy smile on her face as she cut off your recounting of last night. The boys were outside chopping some firewood while you, Rose, and Jane prepared dinner.

Jane winked at you jokingly, “What was it like?”

“What was what like? The kissing?” You asked, and she nodded.

“We want all the details!”

“In all honesty, it was the best kiss of my life.” You admitted, the butterflies you felt last night returning at just the thought.

As the three of you continued to talk, coo, and gossip about the four boys outside, they were hard at work. The late afternoon summer sun was bearing down on them, and they had stripped away their shirts earlier. Tom decided very early on that he didn’t like chopping wood, even if Harrison was somehow worse at it than him. While Tom and Harrison mainly kept to themselves, Will and Tyler had their own conversations going, despite the others clearly within earshot.

“You and Jane— I don’t know how you do it. One girl for all those years?” Will commented, and Tyler laughed with a shrug.

“It’s been so long, I don’t know what I would do without her. Plus, she’s the best fuck I’ve ever had.” Tyler said crassly, making his friend laugh.

“Mine was by far Y/N.” He stated, loudly, as if to ensure that Tom would hear it. At the sound of your name, Tom and Harrison both began to listen in on the conversation.

“It’s been years. Surely, there’s been someone else.”

“Nope.” Will protested, stopping his work to lean on the axe handle, “She was supposed to come over last night, but she must’ve gotten lost.” Tom couldn’t stop himself from scoffing at his words. Hearing the sound, Will turned to face Tom, “Got something to say?”

“Yeah, I do actually.” Tom said, dropping the axe. Holding himself up straighter, he made his way closer to Will. Harrison hesitantly stepped closer to Tom as the brunet continued, “She didn’t get lost, she just had a better option.”

“Better option? You mean you?” He bit back. “Yesterday, you couldn’t even do a simple hike without hurting yourself, and you’re shit at chopping wood. You may think you’re hot shit in London, but this is my turf, movie star. I’m the one who gets the girl here.”

Harrison went to grab Tom’s balled fist, but he was too late as Tom had already swung, nailing the surprised Will right in the nose. Will responded quickly, throwing a punch back at Tom. Tyler and Harrison exchanged questioning looks, silently wondering if they should break up the fight or just let them go at it, but the pair decided the former was probably a better idea.

Aware of sudden commotion outside, you, Rose, and Jane all rushed to the balcony, wondering what could possibly be happening. The fight between Tom and Will was ending as Harrison and Tyler both successfully pulled their respective friends away from the other. Even from the distance, you could see the new bruises on Tom’s face and Will’s bloody nose; it was most likely broken, but you didn’t have it in you to care. The boys were unaware of you and the others, until Harrison looked up at the balcony. He gave you a sad smile, and Tom was next to look up. Ashamed, he didn’t dare to meet your eyes and, instead, grabbed his shirt from a nearby log and trudged his way down to the lake.

Your eyes flickered to Will, and a pit of anger flamed inside you. Just by the look on his face, you didn’t even need to question who was the antagonist. Not bothering to say a word to Rose or Jane, you marched downstairs and out to where Will, Tyler, and Harrison remained.

“What did you say to him?” You questioned Will angrily. 

“Nothing he didn’t already know.” He replied nonchalantly.

“That’s bullshit, Will. This is all just bullshit. Every chance you get, you bring up something to antagonize Tom and embarrass me. And, every time you do that, you just remind me that you’re half the man Tom is.”

“You’re acting like I was the one to start the fight. News flash, princess, your man threw the first punch.” Will said, bitterly.

You stepped closer to him, your eyes hardening, and you swore you saw fear flicker in his eyes. “Believe me, if Tom hadn’t broken your nose already, I would break it myself.”

Without another word, you turned on your heel and headed down to the lake. You knew they were all watching you-- Harrison, Tyler, and Will from the ground and Rose and Jane from the balcony. The sun was already starting to line the tops of the trees across the lake, and you felt your anger slowly dissipating as you saw Tom sitting on the dock. With his legs swinging off the edge, he looked at peace, but you knew him better than that; a storm was brewing in his head.

You didn’t say anything, and Tom made no effort to look away from his hands in his lap as you approached. Silently, you sat down right next to him at the end of the dock. Now that you were beside him, you noticed the bruise forming on his eyebrow and the cut on his lip. Will definitely got a few good shots at him, but you could tell Tom had gotten him worse. Your eyes trailed down to his hands; his knuckles were red in agony. Slowly, you reached your hand out to grab his injured one.

“It doesn’t hurt.” Tom mumbled, but you could tell he was holding back the truth. You tenderly placed a kiss on each of his red knuckles before intertwining your fingers.

“Wanna talk about what happened?” You asked him quietly, fearing if you spoke too loud the fragile moment would somehow be ruined.

“He was talking about you like you were just a good fuck and nothing more.” He replied, his voice just as soft as yours.

You couldn’t help but smile at him, your heart fluttering at the thought that he was defending you. You let go of his hand and turned to properly face him. The smile never left your face as you cupped his face in your hands. Confused, Tom asked through a laugh, “What are you doing?”

You kissed his bruised eyebrow before responding, “Well, I’ve got to kiss it better, don’t I?”

“I think you missed a spot then.” Tom pointed to his lips with a cheeky grin. You pressed a chaste kiss to the cut on his lip, before teasingly pulling away. You didn’t get far as Tom’s hand went to the back of your neck, bringing you in for another, deeper kiss. Caught up in the moment, you somehow forgot about his cut; it wasn’t until you nibbled on his bottom lip, accidentally catching the cut, that you remembered and Tom pulled away with a quiet groan.

“I’m sorry.” You said through a laugh, though you were still genuinely concerned about him. Your fingers traced lightly over the agitated cut.

“It’s okay.” He reassured you. One of his hands trailed up your arm to your own hand, and he brought it to his lips, kissing it just as gently as you had kissed his knuckles. “You’re cold.”

“Guess my personal heater isn’t working.” You teased.

“Come here.” Tom beckoned you closer to him. You slid into his side, snuggling into his warm embrace. With his arm hanging around your shoulders, you slipped your fingers through his, smiling at the ease of it all.

“I wish we could stay like this forever.” You mumbled, looking at the beauty of the lake and the sunset before you. It was like a scene from a painting, a scene you wanted to memorize forever.

Tom pressed a kiss to your forehead, pulling you in closer to him. “We can stay here as long as you’d like, darling.”

[sleep-i-ness]

Love Game (James Potter x reader)

Summary: Remus has spilled the beans about you having a crush, and James is determined to find out who it is.

“So, Remus says you’re in love with someone.” Sirius came up behind you as you sat in the shady corner of the common room, reading quietly. You were out of the way, but still able to keep an eye on everything going on.

“Does he now?” You turned the page, finger tracing the words as you continued to read.

Sirius flipped a chair round, sitting down in front of you and tipping the top of your book down towards him. You finally glanced up at him, raising an eyebrow. “Who is it?”

You gave him a confused look. “Why would I tell you?”

“Because you told Remus?” Sirius stated, as though it were the simplest thing in the world.

“I told Remus because he asked me out just so he’d have a date for Hogsmeade, and I felt bad for not being able to accept.” You returned your gaze to your book, trying to signal that this conversation was over.

“So, what you’re telling me is that I need to ask you out?” Sirius grinned at you and you shook your head, knowing exactly what that smile meant. You’d seen that exact smile 5 minutes before your best dress had been covered in mud, aged 5. And then again before you got caught playing the Muggle sport ‘football’ at age 12. And yet again before you went swimming in the canal and your brothers yelled at you for a solid two hours at age 16. Nothing ever good came of that smile. “Y/N Prewett, would you do me the pleasure of going on a date with me?”

“Well that’s not very romantic. No.” You shook your head, trying to concentrate on the words on the page in front of you. You had reread this line at least 5 times and it still wasn’t making sense.

Sirius sniffled, faking tears, and you glanced up at him, giving him an unimpressed frown. “Why not?”

“Because I’m in love with someone else,” you sighed, feeling a very uncomfortable sense of deja-vu.

“Who is it? Who could this man be, that has stolen your affections away from me?” Anyone who said Sirius Black was a serious bore should see him now; he was being a right dramatic pain in your arse.

“Not telling you,” you replied in a sing-song voice. He snatched your book away and you scowled. “Give it back.”

“Not until you tell me.”

“Don’t be an arse Sirius.”

He gave you a look.

“It is so bloody obvious!” You threw your hands up in the air. “If Remus, Marlene, and Lily were all able to guess, so should you.”

Sirius thought for a second, his eyes lighting up as he finished scanning around the room. “No fucking way. How did I never notice?”

“You’re oblivious.”

“It’s James, right?” He grinned, making eye contact with someone behind you and you hushed him furiously.

“What’s me?”

You froze, sending Sirius a sharp glare. Turning around slowly, you smiled up at him as you shook your head and rolled your eyes. “My least favourite Marauder, apparently. But don’t worry, Sirius has definitely filled that spot because he’s being a right pain in my arse.”

You snatched your book back from him and settled down into your chair, focused on returning to your reading. You just wanted to finish it, for God’s sake. You only had a few more pages left and so many other books to get started on.

James stared at the two of you a moment longer, suspicion brewing in his eyes, before he lowered himself into the chair next to you. You assumed he was going to drop the subject. “So, Remus told us about someone you’ve got your eye on.”

You slammed the book on the table. “Has Remus gone round telling everyone?”

“Probably, it’s Remus,” Sirius sniggered at your exasperated expression; you’d told him to keep his mouth shut but you really should have known better. Remus had never been good at keeping secrets from his family; he always managed to blurt them out, accidentally or not.

“So are you also in love with a Hufflepuff?” James crossed his legs, the silky fabric of his trousers tensing around his thighs and your gaze flickered downwards unwillingly. You blinked, quickly looking away, as a soft flush crept up the back of your neck. Sirius grinned at you, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes and you rolled your eyes at him. The teasing was going to be incessant. Remus had already started making snide comments.

He raised an eyebrow, waiting for an answer, and you sighed. “No, surprisingly the only thing Marlene and I don’t share is our taste in men.”

Sirius laughed again and you pulled a face. If he continued being so obvious, James was sure to guess he knew.

“Does Sirius know who it is?” And there it was. The surprise was evident in his tone, his voice tinged with barely audible hurt, and guilt shot through you. Sure, if the man in question had been anyone other than him, he would have been one of the first to know. But you couldn’t afford to affect whatever friendship you had with your silly feelings.

You nodded, sending Sirius a poisonous glare, and placing your hands flat on the table. “Sirius guessed. And I’d say it was pure luck, judging by the way he stumbled on the name.”

“So if I guess, you’ll tell me whether I’m right.” James steepled his fingers together, eyes sparking, and your own widened. If there was one thing you knew and always abided by, it was to never challenge James to a game. Although his competitive nature translated well into his work, you had seen him and Sirius fighting to win, and learnt.

But it would be unfair in his eyes if he didn’t get a shot. You could always lie if he ever guessed correctly. “…Fine.”

He grinned; teeth almost sharklike. This was a bad idea. His eyes darted around the room, appraising every guy slowly before stopping on a pair playing Wizard’s Chess. You stifled a laugh as one got splattered with slime, wiping it off his face with a grimace. “Diggle.”

You shook your head, wrinkling your nose. Diggle was in the year below but only a couple months younger than you; you weren’t into boys who still had the mental maturity to find fart jokes funny. James glanced at Sirius who shrugged in response, at least he wasn’t going to give it away.

“Is it someone close to me?” James asked, fiddling with his watch as he watched for your reaction.

You hesitated, looking to the side as you thought of how best to answer. “I don’t think I said I’d answer your questions.”

He gave you a long hard stare and you met him with equal determination. You weren’t prepared to let yourself be thoroughly embarrassed that easily. James glanced away, slender fingers tapping against the table and your mouth was suddenly dry.

“Podmore.”

“No, however, I need to go talk to Marlene,” you hesitated, fumbling with your excuse. “About my Alchemy essay, so I will see you around.”

You brushed down your skirt, tucking your book under one arm as you waved them goodbye. James looked as if he were about to say something before he hesitated and thought better of it, resorting to a nod instead. Sirius waved you a cheery goodbye, the most evil twinkle dwelling in his eyes, and you returned him a bitter smile.

You managed to avoid James for the rest of the day, darting round corners and forcing Marlene to sit in between the two of you in any shared lessons. But you knew you couldn’t keep this up for long; Lily and Mary had started to give you weird looks.

“Shingleton.” James murmured as he passed you on the way out of Potions, and you shook your head with a grin. At least he was no closer, he was suggesting people from completely the wrong House.

The next time you saw him was dinner, a vacant space left beside him. You narrowed your eyes as he patted it cheerily, waving you over. On the other side of it, a seat up from where he usually sat, was Remus and you shot him a glare, huffing out a breath. Trudging over to James’ side, you slid onto the seat, flinching as your leg brushed against his.

“Toots.”

You scoffed. Of course he didn’t want to just spend time in your wonderful company. “Nice to see you too, James.”

“Come on, please give me a hint.” He sent you a pleading look, eyes big and round, and you couldn’t help but feel a little tempted to tell him. But again, you had enough self-preservation instincts to realise that immediate rejection was not what you were after.

You turned to Remus, giving him a wry smile. “Hello Remus. How kind of you to save me a seat.”

Sirius snorted from his seat across the table, turning it into a cough as you scowled at him.

“You’re welcome. Besides, I’m really enjoying watching James trying to guess,” you raised an eyebrow, “and you squirming.”

There it was. You hated them all; this was absolute torture. You could have, in theory, not sat with them, but you knew James would have made enough of a scene to fully embarrass you either way. Lily, Mary, and Marlene were at the end of the table, where you would usually be, and you sent them longing looks. If only.

Marlene caught your eye and smirked, glancing suggestively between you and James as she wiggled your eyebrows. For Merlin’s sake, of course she was in on this ridiculous match-making plan too.

You sighed. “Remus, I thought when I told you about my crush, you’d keep your mouth shut.”

“They were ragging on me about not ever having a date for Hogsmeade, and apparently we look like we’re dating already so I should ask you out. I told them I already had and that you’d said no because you like someone else,” Remus rattled off what had happened, and you rolled your eyes. Stupid boys and their stupid pride.

“You could’ve just said that I wasn’t interested. And left it that.” You knew why he hadn’t, that was obvious, but it still infuriated you. You’d said it in confidence, feeling a little guilty, but knowing that you were doing the right thing by not leading him on. Now you strongly regretted it.

“Stebbins?” James interjected, having been barely paying attention to the conversation. He’d been too busy scoping out the room for potential crushes, dismissing them for being too ugly, not good enough for you, too dim, too dull, and soon made his way around the room without finding anyone that fit his criteria. So he had to go back round and lower his standards for who you might like, although they clearly weren’t worthy. He wasn’t sure why he cared so much that you liked someone who he thought was miles below your league.

“Nope.” You barely spared him a look, deep in conversation with Remus. For some reason that stung.

The plates in front of you filled with food, but even the delicious meal couldn’t distract you from the bitter mood you’d settled into. You pinched roast chicken between the tongs, ladled peas onto your plate and settled on baby potatoes to make up the rest of your meal. It looked deceptively bland, a white hunk of meat and boring vegetables but you could barely stomach this.

“Gravy?” Sirius offered you the spoon and you shook your head, prodding at your plate. James looked at you weirdly, but you brushed it off as you used the food as an excuse not to talk.

You decided to skip dessert, main course being sufficient to sustain you for the rest of the evening, and headed back to the Common Room. Slughorn had set you yet another essay, this time on the properties of Angel’s Trumpet Draught, so you’d already taken out a couple of the thick tomes in the library that might contain information. The rest you hoped was in your class textbook; you really couldn’t be bothered to trawl through book after book to find enough information to fill the required space.

You set yourself up quite nicely in the corner of the Room, books spread out around you and taking up the whole table. You hoped that was enough of a hint to leave you alone. To add to that, you had your back to the room so that you really looked unapproachable.

Remus was first back from dinner, making a beeline for you as soon as he stepped through the portrait hole. “I’m sorry about dinner.”

You groaned, shaking your head. “It was awful, it was so unbelievably awkward.”

“Yeah, I could tell.” Remus, not taking the hint from your piles of work, settled into the seat next to you. He grimaced. “James is so oblivious.”

Laughing, you nodded in agreement, quickly scribbling out notes on a relevant paragraph before returning your focus to Remus. “Tell me about it. James was just listing off all of these names and I can’t believe he can’t see that he’s the one I like.”

Remus’ eyes darted to something behind you, and you turned round, expecting to see Sirius pulling a face, or something of that kind. He was insufferable in that way. Instead, your heart dropped.

James stared at you, mouth dropped open, making it abundantly clear he’d heard your conversation. Oh Merlin. You swallowed, feeling your eyes prick and heat rise up the back of your neck.

“I’m going to my dorm.” You swept everything off the table into your arms, ignoring how pages bent and parchment crumpled. Side-stepping James neatly, you ducked your head as you passed Sirius and Peter, and headed up to your room. That was mortifying. You couldn’t ever show your face again.

You heard James shout behind you, but you just picked up the pace. You were not going to get rejected in front of your entire House. His shouts grew louder as he caught up with you, but you hopped on the stairs before him, breathing a sigh of relief. As a boy, he wouldn’t be able to reach you; the stairs were charmed to make sure he couldn’t go up them.

Your feet slipped from underneath you. But of course he knew a way around that.

You slid down on your stomach, papers and quills spilling from your grasp. Tumbling into the grasp of two broad arms, you took a moment to reorient yourself before quickly breaking free. James had been the one to catch you and he now helped you up, stacking your sheets untidily.

“Y/N, please don’t run now.”

You blinked, breathing harshly as you pursed your lips. You nodded, feeling eyes on you from all around.

“Go on, scram.” Sirius yelled at the onlookers, who were mostly from younger years, and even if they weren’t, they were scared enough of the Marauders and their tricks to obey instantly.

James grabbed your hands, waiting for everyone to leave, as he rubbed a calloused thumb over your skin. “I heard what you said.”

You smiled waterily, breathing out a laugh. “Yeah, I know. Don’t worry, James, you don’t-”

“Wait,” he interrupted. “Let me talk first. I like you too so will you go on a date to Hogsmeade with me this Saturday?”

“You like me too?”

James almost chuckled at your gobsmacked expression, before realising that probably wasn’t the right response. “Yes, you fool. Have done since about fifth year, if you hadn’t noticed.”

“Oh,” you breathed, speechless. Your lips moved soundlessly as you tried to think of what to say, mind blank with surprise.

James brushed a strand of hair out of your eyes, hand moving down to cup your cheek. “The only thing I want to know is if you’ll go on a date with me to Hogsmeade.”

“Yes,” you grinned. “Of course!”

-

-

hp taglist: @missmulti @dreamer821 @1marvelavengers1 @samnblack @neymarlionelmessi7 @okkulta @gredandforge @yourenotafailureoverall​ @milkshakelol @natblidaclexa

james potter taglist: @methamphetaminee @thefernandasantana @uglipotata72829 @lozzybowe @persephonehemingway @sunandmoonchild158 @blisfvlll @mads-bri @fific7 @ccosmic-illusion @icareabouteverythxng @blackblossomqueen @wheezyreads @tugabooos @atomic-chickenwings @its-evita-here @inkandpen22 @rue-123 @emilianamason @mesmerisedalien @frecklesandfirecrackers @aspiringsloth20

be added here

[uwuwriting]

Soulmates w/ Dabi, Shirakumo and Keigo

Request: Hello! I just read a few of your writings &I'd just like to say they're amazing! Anyways, may I request some hc's for a soulmate AU w/ Dabi, Shirakumo, & Hawks?(all separate)- anonymous

Soulmate Aus have a shit ton of tropes so I went for a different trope on each boy bc I love them all. My man Dabi has dipped the last few chapters and I’m getting kinda deprived, although I appreciate him not burning my baby Shoto to a crisp so we good. Love ya.💖💖💖

masterlist II rules

warnings: angst with some fluff

 Dabi/Todoroki Touya II Interchangeable eye color

-Dabi’s outlook on love is really negative. 

-Growing up the way he did and in the environment he did, the possibilities in him believing or cherishing love and soulmates was low. 

-When he got his soulmate sign he was around 12. 

-It was the darkest moments of his life and he hated himself to no end. 

-When he woke up on that fateful Sunday morning he thought that he was hallucinating. 

-Then he imagined that this could be an after affect of his trauma, just like his hair. 

-His mind though drifted to his soulmate. 

 -He didn’t have a mark up until now and your eye color changing was one of the many soulmate signs out there. 

-As he stared at his left eye, the e/c orb staring back at him, he began to cry. 

-Sobs wracked his body as he clutched his eye. 

-This was unfair. 

-He shouldn’t have a soulmate, what good could he be to anyone?

-He is a failure and he is gonna bring down his soulmate as well. 

-So he hides it. 

-Puts a patch over his eye to conceal the new color blooming around his iris and when his family starts questioning it he buys contacts. 

-Natsuo helps him even though he doesn’t understand why his brother doesn’t want a soulmate. 

-Years pass until he finally meets the person that has changed his life. 

-Shigaraki was being a brat as usual, whining about needing new members for his little group. 

-Dabi couldn’t care less.

-This  whole charade with these losers would only aid him reach his ultimate goal. 

-He didn’t care about Shigaraki’s shitty ideologies and otherworldly desires, he just wanted his revenge. 

-His eyes scanned the so-called hide out in utter boredom, his gaze landing once again at the bar’s door left slightly ajar in case someone came looking. 

-He didn’t expect for the door to open though. 

-And as the grease old door creaked open a figure stepped into the room, clad in black from head to toe. 

-A mask was covering half of your face leaving only your eyes visible. 

-You scanned the place before your eyes landed swiftly on him, knocking the breath out of him as you locked gazes, e/c orbs baring into his own. 

-The vibrant blue on your left eye had him gasping for air. 

-It was stunning. 

-You moved to talk to Shigaraki, your voice albeit monotone and cold, sent tingles up his spine making his hairs stand at attention. 

-His eyes were glued on you, one of his hands subconsciously going to the left side of his face where his mark should be visible.

-It felt as if his contact burned his eye and he quickly took it off, not minding about possible infections since he didn’t wash his hands before touching his eYE DAMMIT YA NASTY AF. 

-His body was drawn to you, his mind screaming at him to talk to you to go close to you. 

-You knew he was your soulmate. 

-You had known the moment you stepped into the bar; no one had such a beautiful blue hue in their eyes other than your soulmate. 

-Despite your mutual desire to be close to each other you  held off for months. 

-Months of keeping distance, months of giving each other the cold shoulder. 

-It would all reach a tipping point soon and Dabi would finally understand what it’s like to truly love someone. 

-Until then though, suffer in your mutual pining. 

Shirakumo Oboro II Red string of Fate

-The string around his pinky finger always lay motionless for years. 

-It was slack and lifeless, no sign of his soulmate being remotely alive. 

-It really worried him, he thought that he might be one of the few unfortunate individuals who didn’t have a soulmate. 

-He talked to his friends about it and they all reassured him that his soulmate was just too far away from him so even if they tugged at the string he wouldn’t be able to feel it. 

-This reassured him all throughout middle school. 

-He started getting a little discouraged when he saw all his classmates getting their soulmate signs whether it be names tattooed on their wrists, one of their eyes changing color or a strand of their hair, other could hear faint music if they concentrated hard enough while others were unfortunate enough to feel their soulmate’s pain. 

-Shirakumo was left staring at the red string surrounding his finger. 

-He had thought about tugging at it, making the first step instead of waiting for the person on the receiving end.  

-But on this day, the day when both Aizawa and Hizashi got their respective signs he found himself tugging at the string. 

-At first he pulled lightly watching the string grow taught slowly and then go slack again. 

-He waited for what felt like a century before tugging again and again, more force being put in his pulls every time. 

-After an hour of waiting and tugging he was done. 

-Eyes downcast with a frown on his lips, he was ready to let this whole soulmate thing go. 

-At the end of the day he doesn’t need the universe to tell him who he should fall in love with; who he is destined to be with. 

-Then he felt it. 

-The lightest tug at his finger. 

-His eyes followed the red string as it straightened a few times before going limb again. 

-Aizawa walked in on him pulling the string like crazy, excited giggles leaving his lips when his soulmate responded with their own pulls. 

- “Shota I did it. T-they answered!”

-This whole string communication business lasted until the first day of high school. 

-As Oboro walked through the halls of UA he felt the string shift on his finger. 

-It was as if it was wrapping tighter around his finger, almost to the point that it hurt. 

-Maybe he was about to meet his soulmate that’s why the string was thinning. 

-Wait, meet them??

-He wasn’t ready to meet them!!!

-What if they didn’t like him? What if his hair was a bit too cloudy for their likes? Oh god his hair must be a mess because he flew here. Maybe he can dash into one of the bathrooms and fix it real quick. Will he be too loud for them? What-

-Lost in his own thoughts he completely missed the person standing in front of him and soon he was crashing into them, a small grunt leaving his lips as he maneuvered himself to cushion their fall. 

- “Oh God I’m so sorry, I was totally zoned out. Are you alright?” 

- “Why are you apologizing? I ran into you.” 

-He let out a chuckle as you scrambled off of him, dusting off your skirt before offering him a hand. 

-As he took it he felt his pinky being released from the pressure. 

-Right before your eyes you witnessed the red string that connected you both unwrap for your fingers, illuminating for a moment before completely disappearing leaving a sense of familiarity and warmth in its wake. 

-You both stared wide eyed at each other before awkwardly introducing yourselves. 

-It didn’t take long for you two to actually fall in love and if you’re being honest it’s was so easy to fall for him that you believed that even if you weren’t soulmates you would have loved him. 

-Even after years, even after that fateful summer, the sense of his presence and his warmth never left you; it was as if he wasn’t gone and he was still somewhere out there. 

-You were half wrong in that one….I think. 

Takami Keigo/Hawks II Name tattoos

-He got his tattoo when he was 13. 

-It had really awful timing if he was being honest. 

-The hero commission was isolating him completely, even from the few friends he had made around the facility he trained in.

-He couldn’t even begin to imagine what they might do if they find out he had a soulmate. 

-He truly wished he had a different soulmate sign or no soulmate at all. 

-He did everything in his willpower to hide the calligraphy of your name on his left wrist. 

-Bandaging it up, covering it with a watch even scribbling over it like he used to do when he was 9 and bored. 

-But at some point it became harder to hide it, harder to conceal the beautiful name that was printed on his wrist. 

-So he confided in someone. 

-One of the caretakers at the commission had taken him under their wing ever since he was a wittle toddler, he trusted them with his life. 

-When he approached them frantically grasping his wrist in attempts to hide the letters, they were both delighted and saddened. 

-It was nice knowing that this poor child had someone out there that was meant for him and would make him happy, replace every single one of these awful memories with new ones.

-Memories he would like looking back to. 

-But just like Hawks himself they knew that the commission wouldn’t allow this person to get involved with him, at any costs and they knew how far these people could go in order to guarantee Hawks’s undivided concentration. 

-So they helped him; they bought him some make up to cover it up and taught him how to apply it correctly. 

-By the time he was out of the hands of the commission *at least not in close reach* no one apart from them knew of his soulmate’s name. 

- “Now listen here Keigo, I want you to take good care of them when you finally meet them. And never forget that you deserve nice things, don’t let anyone take your happiness away.” 

-He did find his happiness. 

-It didn’t happen right away but it did come sooner than he expected. 

-He had learned about the new transfer student who began attending UA in the middle of the year. 

-He never heard their name but he knew they existed. 

-Turns out they were quirkless but were determined to become a hero despite their shortcomings. 

-After a few months he bumped into them and oh lord his wings have never been puffier. 

-He was  relaxing on the roof, away from prying eyes and loud people, just him and the birds *he found his people at last*.

-When he heard the door open he almost leaped off the building but paused at the sound of a soft voice. 

- “Oh I’m so sorry I didn’t know someone was up here.” 

-Turning around he came face to face with the most beautiful person he had ever laid his eyes upon. 

-For the first time in his life he stumbled over his words, a swift ‘It’s alright’ escaping his lips and before he knew what he was doing he was inviting you to sit with him. 

- “Wow you can see everything from here.” 

- “The view is better up in the sky if you ask me.”

-After a long pause he added. “I could show you if you want.” 

- “How can I trust you? Hmmm?” you teased. “I don’t even know your name.” 

-He let out a chuckle before continuing. “Could say the same for you but since I’m a gentleman I will grace you with my name. I’m Keigo Takami or Hawks if you wanna go with my hero persona.” 

-He saw your eyes widen as you stared at him, your eyes darting to his covered wrists. 

-Quickly you composed yourself straightening your shirt and extending your hand, the black letters of his name delicately engraved on your smooth skin. 

- “Nice to meet you, I’m Y/N L/N.”  

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[gubler-me-up]

Fact Check

Request: I love all Reid don’t get me wrong but there’s just something about early seasons awkward soft and shy Reid that’s just too perfect! I love the idea of the reader always asking later on in the day if he could finish the fact ramble someone cut him off on as they were finding it interesting and him just beaming. Or him being self conscious about being lanky or smth and reader confesses how attracted they are to him and he just smiles so big and confesses right back

A/N: Thanks for the request, anon! We love an early season, awkward Reid! This was definitely a heavily (not really) researched fic for me because I had to make sure everything coming from baby Reid’s mouth was nothing less than accurate 😤 Hope it’s cute enough, fluffy enough and everything you ever wanted from this request! Enjoy!!

Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!reader

Category: Fluffiest of fluffs

Content warning: None

Word count: 1.7k

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It was the second day in a row where everyone was piled with paperwork to complete. You were working vigorously to complete your share by the end of the day. The last thing you wanted to worry about during the weekend was taking home case files to complete them by Monday. You looked around to see if everyone else had the same mindset as you. As you suspected everyone was nose deep in files, except for Dr. Spencer Reid.

As always he had finished early and was just sitting reading one of his many books he brought with him to work. He had his adorable reading glasses on and his long fingers were scrolling down each page as if it was nothing. Sometimes you wished you could read 20,000 words per minute so you could have some leisure time at work.

Your thoughts were interrupted and so was your gaze as you turned to look at Morgan who let out a big, exaggerated groan. You knew how much he hated paperwork out of everyone on the team. He got up and stretched to release some tension from sitting down for several hours.

“I hate paperwork,” he mumbled.

You chuckled. “Join the club.”

“You know, you wouldn’t be piled with paperwork if you didn’t procrastinate so much when it came to doing paperwork, you wouldn’t feel so scared by it,” Spencer said without looking up from his book.

Morgan scoffed. “I’m not scared by it, Reid. I just hate doing them, especially as many as we have.”

“Actually, a lot of the time procrastinators avoid the task at hand because they feel physical pain associated with said task. A great example would be someone who procrastinates tackling a mathematical or scientific equation because just thinking about it hurts them. The parts of our brain which feel pain actually-”

“And it’s time for my coffee break,” Morgan said before leaving his desk.

You looked over at Spencer and saw the excitement of spewing facts about procrastination leave his eyes. He went back to looking down at his book and continued to read. While he was telling Morgan his procrastination fact, you were intrigued. You too struggled with major procrastination.

You truly loved hearing him ramble on about random facts though. You felt more educated about a wide range of topics not even your best college professors could touch on. You always caught him after work to ask for him to finish his fact and he was always glad to tell you the rest. He looked so ecstatic every time you asked and his precious cheeks would turn a little pink. It was as if each time you asked, he didn’t expect you to.

“Psst, hey, Spence,” you whispered.

He looked up at you. “Yes?”

“Does the parietal lobe actually feel pain when we’re scared about something we’ve been procrastinating?” You asked.

“The parietal lobe is quite an expansive part. The centre of the brain controls how a person identifies objects, interpreting touch, understand spatial relationships and feeling pain. Since we have identified what we fear, that part of the brain now associates it with pain automatically. To make ourselves feel comfortable again, we naturally avoid whatever we’re procrastinating,” he explained.

You gawked at him with awe. It was quite entertaining hearing him spit facts out as if he was an audiotape of a textbook. He looked embarrassed again and began to stray his eyes away from yours to avoid your stare. To be fair you shouldn’t be staring at him with such intensity anyway.

“That was very interesting. Thank you for that, Spence,” you said as you looked away from him.

“Any time, Y/N. Glad you like them,” he said.

When he said that you could just hear the smile in his voice. You giggled silently to yourself. You were happy you could make him feel as if he had a sense of belonging when his facts weren’t needed for a case.

“Hey, Y/N. How many case files you got left?” Elle asked.

“About 20,” you said.

“23 if you’re not rounding,” Reid chimed in.

“What the doctor said,” you replied.

Elle chuckled. “Well, since you’re 23 files away from being done, would you be interested in any coffee to speed the process up?”

You let out an exaggerated sigh of relief. “Do I ever.”

“You know coffee can actually stimulate a sense of anxiety, which I don’t think would be handy right now considering you’re almost done,” Reid said.

“Oh, that’s rich coming from you, Dr. Coffee addict. Besides, in your world Y/N is almost done, but in our world she’s going to need a coffee to keep going. How do you take it?” Elle asked as she stood up.

“Two sugars with milk,” you said.

“You should try switching out milk for cream. Cream actually makes coffee stay warm longer because-”

“And I’ll be right back,” she said as she walked away.

You looked over at Spencer who went back to reading again. You were going to ask him to continue, but thought it was best to ask him after you were done your case files. If you neglected them any longer your fear of having your weekend ruined would become a reality. Unlike Morgan, you were ready to kick your fear of doing case files to the curb.

At the end of the day, you packed up your things to leave. You ended up finishing all your casework and could finally look forward to the weekend. You walked out of the bullpen towards the elevator. To your pleasant surprise Spencer was there still.

“Hey, thought you left already,” you said.

He turned his head around to look at you. He had taken his glasses off and you could see his big, hazel eyes clearly. His face was so inviting with his awkward smile and rosy cheeks. You couldn’t understand why anyone would shut down his eager fact spilling with a face like his.

“No, I, uh, decided to stick around a bit,” he said.

“Great. I just wanted to say how right you were when you said cream makes your coffee stay warm longer. My second cup was warmer way longer than my first. Why is that?” You asked.

His awkward smile turned into a beaming one. “Well, it’s because cream thickens coffee, so it slows the process of evaporation. By slowing the initial evaporation process, you avoid losing a lot of heat altogether.”

“Oh my God, I’ve been drinking coffee wrong my whole life?” You rhetorically asked.

“Actually not your entire life because according to American Academy of Pediatrics the proper age for coffee intake is 12 or older with the average intake being between 85 to 100 milligrams per day,” he said.

“It was rhetoric and sarcastic, but that is one fact I did sort of know,” you giggled.

He blushed. “Sorry.”

You pressed the elevator button. “No, it’s fine. I love hearing you tell facts, so I don’t mind.”

“Why?”

You looked at him confused. “Why what?”

“Well, I-I mean, um, no one really asks me to continue a fact,” he said.

“Well, I’m not them. I enjoy learning through you,” you assured him.

The elevator doors opened and you both walked in. You two stood fairly close to each other in an empty elevator. You looked over at Spencer, but he didn’t look at you. He was looking straight ahead, trying his best not to make eye contact with you. His face was even redder than before. You cleared your throat, but he didn’t even move his eyes over to you.

“Are you okay, Spen-”

“Out of curiosity, Y/N, do you actually enjoy talking to me?” He asked as he turned to look at you.

You nodded. “Of course. Why wouldn’t I?”

“Well, you just seem as if you’d rather talk to Morgan or Elle over me,” he said.

You chuckled. “Is that your profile of me, doctor? If so, it’s weak. I love nothing more than hearing your facts or informing me of something new in your world of expertise. I really like talking to you.”

He looked at you wide-eyed, almost stunned. You don’t think once in his entire life he felt as if his rambles were appreciated somewhere. You were glad you could let him know that they are and that your ear was always ready for them.

“I wouldn’t expect you to find someone like me great to be around. I ramble, I’m awkward looking and lack a bit in understanding social cues. You’re more uniformed and I just thought you’d like people in your circle to be the same way,” he said.

“Spencer, I have no idea how Gideon even got you into the field with profiling skills like yours. I think you’re amazing mentally and physically. The social cues could use some work, but everything else is darn near perfect,” you said.

A wide smile flashed on his face before he tried to hide it by pressing his lips tightly together. He looked at the floor for a few moments. You had probably broken Dr. Spencer Reid. If he had nothing to say you had messed some wiring up.

He looked back up at you. “I… I think you’re amazing as well in every way possible.”

You giggled. “Is that a fact or a guess?”

He chuckled. “Um, uh, a fact.”

The elevator doors soon opened and you both stepped out. You looked at him as you pulled out your car keys from your purse. He fully embraced his big smile as he still tried to avoid eye contact with you. At least you broke him in one area.

“How about we fact check your fact about me and go get coffee sometime. Only with cream and sugar, of course,” you said.

He looked at you and nodded. “I’d like that.”

“Great, I’ll call you,” you said as you waved him goodbye.

He waved at you as well as you both turned your backs to each other to go your respective ways. You were giddy about your future date with Spencer. Half because you thought he was an amazing individual and wanted to know him on a deeper level. Half because you wanted to know what new facts he could tell you. Either way it was going to be a grand time for both of you.

—–

MASTERLIST