#LIKE COME ON KEVIN STOP TALKING ABOUT TOMMY LIKE HE'S THE ONE THAT GOT AWAY SEROGNEAORGINERG

[mccoys-killer-queen]

They™, your honor

[borisdl]

Short story part 6

The Barbecue

The morning of the barbecue I got up early to my uncle get everything ready. When we were done I sat down in clean diaper to play Xbox. While I was playing I farted a few times then came that feeling.

I had to poop. Bad.

I held it as long as could. Then I had to let some pressure off. One large firm turd slid out then I stopped. It was big, felt like a potato between my butt cheeks.

Due to the firmness, like hard clay, it barely smelled at all.

All of a sudden my uncle was standing in the doorway wearing a little pair of red gym shorts that did little to hide his dry diaper. He said, “you all ready champ?”

I guess I hesitated a little too long because he said, “heyyy buddy, there’s nothing to be nervous about. Everyone that’s coming today is on our team, even your straight uncle Tommy will be in a diaper.”

I smiled and said I be down in a minute.

I wanted my erection to go away before the guests arrived. I went in the bathroom to make the poop wasn’t visible from the back. It was fine but just in case I put on pair of baggy basketball shorts and went downstairs.

Soon my uncle Tommy arrived with his twin sons Danny and Mike. They looked super cute with their blond curly hair. They were both wearing big jean shorts so it was kind of hard to tell if they were diapered or not.

Tommy on the other hand was wearing nylon running shorts that left little to the imagination. He also had a bit of bear belly that made his t-shirt ride up a little and you could plainly see the top of his white diaper showing.

He was carrying a case of beer.

As we were saying hello, ranger Kevin showed up. Out of uniform and carry a small duffle bag. I saw him whisper something to my uncle. “Top of the stairs to the right is my room, feel free to use the changing table, my uncle said.

Then a car pulled up with four handsome guys in their late twenties or early thirties. Two were my uncle joey’s work friends Gary and Frank. The other two, my uncle introduced as David and Brick.

Brick was really hot, I shook his had shyly. Increasingly aware of my poopy diaper situation and hoping no one would notice.

My uncle Tommy had already fired up the grill and was drinking beer while my cousins played frisbee in the yard. I walked over to the grill and sat at the picnic table. As I sat down I felt the poop press up against my balls and got excited again.

Uncle Tommy was a big beer drinker but I’d never seen him drunk. He was just a big bear of a guy. I asked him how aunt Linda was doing, he said she was working today. Linda was a nurse.

As he stood there at the grill drinking, I drank my Coca Cola at the picnic table and made small talk trying not to stare. It seemed like every time he turned around the front of wis diaper was wetter and more swollen. It was even starting to sag out of the leg openings.

All of a sudden he said, “It’s Brick, right?”

Blushing I turned around to see him walking towards us. His gray sweatpants cut offs did little to hide his obviously wet diaper. The bulge slid side to side as walked toward us grinning.

I was tongue tied. I’d never seen anyone so handsome in my whole life. He had perfect all-American good looks. “What’s cooking’ guys?” He said.

I mumbled something.

Fortunately uncle Tommy, who was never at loss for words said, “Joey tells me you drive a truck.”

“That’s right,” said Brick. I’m in town for a few days.

Then my uncle Joey yelled to him from across the yard and he dashed off.

Uncle Tommy said laughing, be sure to ask your uncle why they call him brick. But I was distracted. I realized that I’d wet my diaper and from the looks of my uncle’s sagging shorts, he had too.

I was contemplating sneaking upstairs for a quick change when I noticed Tommy spread his legs and bent his knees a little. He was obviously trying to push out a stubborn log. As he leaned into it and strained, I heard it crackle and slide out making a large bulge in the back of his shorts.

Turning around to face me he said smiling like he was proud of himself, “that feels better.”

I couldn’t believe I just watched my straight uncle Tommy shit and pee in his diaper right in front of me. Seeing my surprised look he said, “don’t worry kid, that’s what diapers are made for.”

I could feel the precum leaking out of my hard cock like a sieve. I didn’t dare stand up. I looked around the yard for Brick but I couldn’t see him or my uncle Joey so I went to look for them.

To be continued…

[samuel-de-champagne-problems]

Band-Aids Don’t Fix Bullet Holes, But Your Kisses Do

summary:  in a standoff with an unsub, reader makes a choice: her life or spencer’s. 

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader 

category: angst/fluff at the end 

warnings/includes: canon typical case violence, based off of episode “haunted” so spoilers, guns/gun violence, hospitals, kissing, mentions of hotch’s stabbing 

word count: 3437 

author’s note: i wrote this one a while ago and thought i’d share it. if anyone wants to be tagged, i’m going to figure it out and i’ll add you to a tag list!!  

Band-Aids Don’t Fix Bullet Holes, But Your Kisses Do

The two agents that sat on swivel chairs facing each other fake arguing about an episode of Dr. Who. Spencer had his legs straight out, resting on Y/N’s lap comfortably. She leaned forward and placed her chin on her hand as she explained to Spencer her thoughts on the episode. 

“Spencer, you cannot tell me that you don't think  David Tennant is hot! I watched the episode with you and I can tell you are-" 

“I’m not going to argue against that, Y/N. David Tennant is,” Spencer started as he fiddled with the lollipop that Garcia handed him when he and Y/N walked into the bullpen.

“Is what, Spence?” A teasing look graced her face as Spencer’s blush grew down his exposed neck and collarbone. 

“He’s hot, okay Y/N is that what you want me to say!” Spencer’s voice rose a couple octaves from his admission over his not-so-subtle-crush on The Doctor.

“That’s exactly what I wanted you to say, Spencer. Least I know we have the same type” She said with a wink. 

“You got a type, Y/N?” Derek called from the doorway of the conference room. 

“Yeah, hot doctors with brown hair”  Emily said without missing a beat. She had walked in behind Derek, the pair  of them discussing her annual Sin-to-Win Weekend in Atlantic City. 

“But they, you know, have to be like Time Lords, or whatever” She said in efforts to cover up her growing discomfort. 

She turned her attention back to Reid, who was in the process of trying to remove his leg from her warm lap. He did not want to give Derek anymore ammunition to make sly jokes at his not-so-subtle-crush on his best friend/co-worker. Secretly, he wanted to keep his leg there, against her soft thigh and maybe she’d drop her hands on his leg in a comforting gesture of….friendship. 

Garcia placed a tin decorated with white and orange cats dressed in bonnets on the table just within reach of Hotch’s usual spot near the monitor. Reid reached forward to open the tin, which he deduced was filled with Penelope’s infamous snickerdoodle cookies. Unfortunately, before the genius profiler could reach the gaudy tin, Penelope swatted his hand away from grasping the cookies. 

“Hey! Those are for Hotch” Penelope shouted as she grabbed the tin and moved them closer to Hotch’s chair. 

“What? You know I love cookies, Garcia. Come on, Hotch hates attention” 

“I just made some cookies, it’s not like I made him a cake.” Penelope argued as Derek and Emily both quietly eyed the cookies. 

“Spence, we’ll make cookies tonight. It looks like it’s just a paperwork day” Y/N said with a slight smile, that, in turn, elicited a big grin from an unsuspecting Spencer.

“Anyway,” Derek started as he chose to ignore the interaction that unfolded before him “we all know he’s going to act like nothing happened” he remarked as he fingered through the dozen case files spread out before him on the table. 

“Doesn’t mean we have to,” Penelope said sadly as she looked down at the cat cookie tin.  

“Maybe we should,” Reid said quietly to his co-workers. 

“But, I’m not built like that!” said Penelope. 

“Hotch is though, Penny,” Y/N noted as she snuck a cookie while Penelope’s back was turned. She broke it in half and handed it to Spencer under the table. He winked at her as she shushed him. 

“Yeah, Y/N,” Spencer said with a mouthful of cookie, “Hotch never blinks” he finished with a large swig of lukewarm, sugared coffee. 

“Classic Alpha Male” Spencer said, looking towards Derek. 

“Do you think he stared down Foyet...you know while it happened?” Emily questioned. She was usually the one who could stomach all these, but when it came to the team, she was as nervous as the lot of them. 

“It’s probably what saved his life,” Derek said somberly. 

“He can’t be okay,” Penelope said with a whisper. 

“I wouldn’t be,” Spencer said with an air of uncertainty, “I’m a blinker” 

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There was an uncomfortable silence during the ride to Louisville. Hotch was more sullen than usual, but, thankfully, Garcia broke the tension with her reports via computer screen. 

“Our point in Louisville is Lieutenant Kevin Mitchell, my contacts don’t report any more attacks related to this unsub” JJ relayed. She sat next to Derek, who was across from Hotch and Rossi. Emily sat criss cross on the table across from the foursome. On the small jet couch, Spencer and Y/N played a game of chess as they listened to the initial reports JJ received from the local PD. 

“Call’s proving hard to track. He never had a driver’s license, so he’s probably still on foot,” Spencer mumbled without removing his eyes from the chessboard. 

“Or public transportation,” Y/N added as she cringed when Spencer announced “check”. 

“Well, he’s not going to get anywhere too far with his face all over the news,” Emily continued. 

“So, what do we think the stressor is,” Rossi nodded. 

“He just lost his job. Worked in a factory since 1990. He made appliances forever. Not a single promotion” Garcia’s voice came across a little staticky. 

“That’s a long time to be bitter,” Derek posed. 

“Or he just doesn’t care,” Reid countered. 

“According, to what you sent over Garcia, he kind of seems like a hermit. Far as I can tell he’s got no one. No wife, no children, no parents.” Y/N added with a sad tone in her voice. 

With a sharp tone, Hotch added “then why didn’t he kill himself?” 

“He’s not finished killing yet,” Reid continued the thought, “check mate!” 

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It was at times like these that it seemed like the case drags on forever. Call had kidnapped a little boy, who, Spencer had figured out was Call’s biological son.  The local PD was getting them nowhere. Those overly macho cops seemed to be having a difficult time taking orders from JJ. Y/N watched as she marched over to Mitchell and demanded that he give a press conference. 

Y/N chuckled quietly to herself as she watched the interaction. JJ was a force to be reckoned with, especially when the life of an innocent child was at stake. That cop had no idea who he was challenging. 

“Hey, Y/N,” Spencer called from his spot in front of the whiteboard. It was decorated with a combination of their messy, rushed handwriting. Spencer grasped his blue marker and looked at Y/N with a painful expression. 

“I’m not getting anywhere with this geographical profile,” Spencer’s somber tone flooded Y/N’s emotions with an overwhelming sense to comfort him. 

“Spencer, put the marker down and look at me, please, for a second.” He obliged as he turned to face her.

Y/N reached up on her tiptoes to gently rub her hands along the base of Spencer’s neck. He could feel the tension melt away. Spencer was not one for physical affection, but he realized that he, in fact, craved the soft touches of people he trusted. Whether it was a brotherly pat on the back from Morgan, a playful high five from Garcia, a proud fist bump from Hotch, Spencer had grown to seek out affection. 

“Y/N,” he said. His voice but a whisper in the loud, hectic bullpen. 

“Shh,” She could sooth his worries just with a graze of her hands across his neck. It was magic to a scientist. Her magical presence set him on fire. 

“Hey, we can do this, Spence, all of us, but we need you,” Y/N voice mirrored his own. A hushed whisper that fueled the flames of his love. 

Instead of kissing her forehead or even hugging her, all Spencer could make out was a small thank you, before, like the wind, she was gone to see if Garica had any updates on the missing boy. 

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In a frantic hour, Garcia had discovered a possible location of Tommy and his father, Darrin. Like most the unsubs, they were children of tragedy. Children of abusive homes and of deep rooted violence. It was up to the team, as they raced down the street in their crowded SUVs, to stop the cycle of violence for claiming another innocent child. 

“Hotch, you are on speaker,” Emily called from the passenger seat of the car as Derek sped down the warehouse where they suspected Tommy to be held. 

“Do not go in there without SWAT, do you all here me?” Hotch said sternly. 

“That means you, Derek, don’t go in there till backup gets there,” JJ added from the phone that Emily held. 

“You got it, boss man,” Derek made a sharp turn that led Y/N to nearly fall into Spencer, who sat next to her. 

“Spencer! Where is your vest!?” Y/N asked him impatiently, with a tinge of nervousness and fear laced in her tone. 

“Y/N, Call doesn’t have a gun, he’s been using weapons of opportunity. The profile points to him not even being armed right now. If anything-” 

“Screw the profile, Spencer!” Y/N’s voice was hysterical now. “You need to where a damn vest, you are an FBI agent, if you get-” 

Y/N’s rant to Spencer was stopped short by the disturbing sight before her. From the SUV the four of them could see an even more distraught Call standing out in the middle of the warehouse parking lot. He held Tommy by the neck, with a gun pointed at his temple. Derek stopped the car and jumped out, his gun wielded as he began to try to talk the man down. 

“Call, drop the weapon and release Tommy, right now!” Derek’s voice loomed large and powerful as Emily, Reid, and Y/N each got out of the vehicle and turned their spots with Morgan. 

“You don’t want to hurt Tommy,” Spencer started. “we know who he is to you, we know that he’s your son, and that you weren’t there for him.” He put his gun away in an attempt to show Call that he was not a threat. Y/N could read the desperation in Spencer’s voice from a mile away. Call, like Spencer’s mom lives with schizophrenia. Spencer and Hotch nearly had it out in the middle of the bullpen after Spencer insinuated that Hotch was implying that Call was only going on this murder spree because of his condition.

“Just let the boy go, Call.” Y/N continued the track that Derek and Spencer started. “Just let your son go. We will make sure that you can get medicine, that’s why you went to the pharmacy, right? You need meds to help yourself and then,-” 

Out of the corner of her eye, Y/N could see Spencer inching closer and closer to Tommy. As if it was a chain reaction, Call drew his weapon and fired towards Spencer. Before she even could realize the consequences of her actions, Y/N tackled Spencer to the ground. The bullet lodged itself into the Kevlar vest she wore. Her side burned as she came to understand what had transpired in the last couple of seconds. 

Spencer scrambled onto his knees and clutched Y/N’s cold hands in his. 

“Spence, I’m okay,” Y/N said as she struggled to sit up straight with Spencer practically laying on top of her. 

“No, Y/N! Don’t do that,” Spencer started with tears flooding the corners of his eyes. The little droplets made his sometimes brown and sometimes green eyes sparkle with sadness. 

Spencer moved his hands from the place where the bullet lodged itself in her Kevlar to grasp her face tenderly. But his movement caused her cheek to be painted with a deep red handprint in the shape of the crying man crouching before her hand.

“Spencer,” she let out a small whimper when she saw the look of horror on his face.  Before he could even ask her why she did what she did, Y/N passed out, her limp, cold hand finding its home in the comfort of soft, warm ones. 

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The rest of the case passed in a numbing hum for Spencer. Once Y/N got shot by Call he let go of Tommy and Derek shot him the leg. Spencer did not even stay for when Emily and Derek apprehended the unsub. It was like his legs acted of their own accord when the EMT showed up for Y/N and he walked with them never letting go of her hand. 

The ride to the hospital in the back of the ambulance was hectic. The EMTs had to monitor her heart rate, her blood pressure, and her oxygen. Even the temptation of numbers could not capture Spencer’s attention as he mulled over the possible conclusions to why Y/N would take a bullet for him. There was no logical reason for it. Not one. Spencer let the steady rocking of the ambulance to soothe him as he gently rubbed his thumb over Y/N’s hand. Even though he longed to hold her against himself, this would have to do, for now at least. Till then, Spencer forced his mind to focus on the pattern that her beating heart created.

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Hospitals terrified Spencer. The smell, the sick people, the people who were unsavable. Part of him wonders what his life would be like if he became a medical doctor. As a kid, he had a future where he could do anything he could dream of. Cure schizophrenia on Monday, operate on an inoperable tumor on Tuesday- that’s what his life could have been like. 

But sitting there, in the sterile hospital with the white walls and constant beeping, Spencer’s mind was only thinking of another life he could be out living. In the minutes that he sat with Y/N as she lay in pain in his arm, false memories of a life together painted in his mind. Laughing children, family picnics, couple’s Halloween costumes. He stroked her hair and saw a life so familiar that he could almost taste it. He tasted cookies that they baked together as they danced without a care in the world. He tasted Halloween and Forth of July and all the holidays in between. He tasted butterfly kisses with his children that had her hair and her eyes and her smile. 

He was stripped away from those memories that he didn’t even own. Now all he could taste was the bitterness of regret, the sourness of what if, and the tartness of the nightmares masquerading as reality. 

“Family of Y/L/N,” a surgeon dressed in light blue scrubs walked into the waiting area with an unreadable expression on her face.

JJ and Derek stood up immediately as the doctor went to continue to deliver the news. 

“She’s awake and doing okay,” the doctor said with a relieved expression. 

“Oh that goodness,” JJ said as she hugged Emily in a moment of happiness. 

“She’s a fighter,” Derek quipped, “I’m going to call Garcia, she’s probably a nervous wreck” 

“She’ll make a full recovery, but should avoid air travel because her internal bleeding,” the doctor reported, “also, which one of you is Spencer? Even since she’d been lucid, she’s been asking for you,” she said looking around at the remaining group, with her eyes landing on the man in question. 

“She is?” Spencer questioned carefully. He was worried that maybe she regretted jumping in front of him. 

“Yes, why don’t you come with me. It may make her more comfortable having someone she wants with her” 

Y/N wants him. 

Him. 

Spencer was not sure how he even walked himself down the corridor to where Y/N’s room was located. But sure enough, he was met with her ashen face beaming up at his. 

“Y/N! Oh my goodness, are you okay, I mean, obviously you’re injured so you’re not okay. I don’t mean to invalidate your pain, I just...why, Y/N, why on Earth would you do that?” Spencer finished. His voice was more tender towards the end. He looked down at his friend before him and tried to read the expression that graced her face. 

“Spencer, I did what I had to do. You….you would have died,” Spencer noticed the tears that puddled in her eyes and had to suppress the sudden urge to kiss them away. 

“I’d rather die than live my life in a world without you, Spencer.”

Spencer closed his eyes and sat down on the bed with her. 

“Why?” he asked in a voice that was hardly audible. It can’t be, he thought. Maybe this is just something that a teammate does for another teammate. Comrades in arms or something like that, he thought. Trying to make sense of senselessness. 

“Why do you value my life more than yours? Why-how can you do that” there was not stopping tears in his eyes now. She reached out and held his face, like he held her as she bled out in the warehouse only a couple of hours ago. 

“Spence, my life would be dull and gray without you in it. You’re my best-” She stared as he tensed up at what he knew was coming. She only jumped in front of him because it’s what a teammate does. 

“Please, I can't bear to hear that. I-maybe you only can think of me as a teammate or worse a brother, but part of me. A hopeful and romantic part of me that I can't let go of the thought of you thinking about in a different way,” he was so embarrassed, so raw in the moment that he could not bear to even look her in the eyes. 

“Spencer?” he could only watch the way that their fingers laced together. He focused on the patterns between the itchy hospital blanket. 

“Y/N,” he started and took a deep breath. Spencer had never intended to tell her this. Maybe in moments of drunken bravery he thought about it, but he’d always sober up before his dreams could come to fruition. 

“I’m a logical man, I solve problems for a living but sometimes. Sometimes, I can’t use logic to solve some problems, and there’s no logical reason for you to jump in front of a bullet for me. Unless you love me? And I hope with every fiber of being that you do, because I am so desperately in love with you” 

Spencer allowed himself, for the first in his life, to have once of hope and faith. 

Y/N’s eyes met Spencer’s in an uncharacteristically shy moment. 

“I do, Spence. Of course I love you”

Spencer let out a nervous laugh as he, once again, gently placed his hands on her jaw. He placed a kiss on her forehead. The small, tender affection elicited a whimper from Y/N. Spencer jumped back in horror. 

“Oh, honey did I hurt you? You gotta tell me where it hurts” he murmured in a comforting voice. 

“Hmm, no I’ve just been waiting five years for you to kiss me and you settle on my forehead?” Y/N beamed up at him expectantly. 

“Nowhere do you want me to kiss you, my dear?” Spencer questioned playfully. 

“How about in between everywhere and anywhere you want, Doctor Reid,” Y/N, despite the pain, managed a smile for the man that held her hand so lovingly. 

“How about here?” Spencer leaned forward and kissed the left corner of her mouth. 

“Or here?” The right corner. 

“What about here, I’ve dreamed of kissing you here.” He moved his mouth to meet the place on her neck that met her collarbone. Y/N looked up at Spencer dreamily. One day she might chalk it up to the painkillers flooding through her system, but the pure adoration that melted from Spencer’s lips to her skin was something that never knew she’d crave. 

“And here” 

His lips parted slightly as he moved in to meet hers. The feeling was more divine and earth shattering than when Prometheus gave humans fire. Together, intertwined in bedsheets, IVs, and fingers laced with hair, they lit a fire of their own. Kissing Spencer stopped time. 

It was Y/N who broke first. 

“Spencer,” she said with a new reverence that would only be reserved for him. 

“Yes, sweet girl?” 

“You gotta promise me something,” she said as she raked her hands across his arms, feeling him shudder under her touch. 

“Anything and everything for you” he said, mirroring her earlier words to him. 

“Wear a vest next time”

[elliesguitarstrings]

Promises, Promises (Teaser)

Tom Holland x Reader

Masterlist

Summary: You and Tom were childhood best friends turned lovers, and he made a promise to be with you forever. But some promises are just meant to be broken.

Warnings: angst, language, some fluff (ribs by lorde energy)

A/N: i've been working on this fic for A WHILE and I'm almost finished with it! be prepared this is gonna be a long (and sad) one but i absolutely love it, so i decided to post a little teaser bc i’m so excited about it hehe

Flashbacks are in italics

~~~~~~~~

"I got the part! Holy shit I actually got the part!" Tom throws his computer across the bed in disbelief, almost hitting you.

"Wait, like THE part? Like Spiderman?" you question excitedly.

"YES!!! Check the Marvel Instagram right now!" he crawls over to you as you whip out your phone and quickly search up the account. You scan the page to see a post captioned, "Click the link in our bio to see who the new Spider-Man is!" You quickly find the link and impatiently wait for the page to load. And then you see it, boldface print and giant letters across your phone.

The new Marvel Cinematic Universe Spider-Man will be played by: TOM HOLLAND

"HOLY SHIT TOM! You're fucking Spiderman!" you tackle him with a hug, squeezing him so tightly that he has to fight for breath. "I'm so proud of you, I knew you were gonna do big things." you smile brightly.

"We have to go tell everyone else, come on!" Tom pulls you off of him, dragging you out of his bedroom and down the stairs to give his family the big news.

The rest of the Hollands were already together in the family room, and they immediately took notice of yours and Tom's excitement as the two of you are bounding down the stairs.

Out of breath, Tom sprints to the center of the room. "Attention everyone, I have an extremely important announcement to make!" He pauses for dramatic effect, his family waiting in anticipation. "I'M GONNA BE SPIDERMAN!"

This causes an outburst of cheers and applause from his parents and brothers, each one of them getting up to hug Tom and congratulate him on this huge achievement.

Paddy piped up, "How did you get the news? Did they call you or something?"

"Um, not exactly. They posted it on their Instagram and on the Marvel website as well, wanna see?" He turns to you, "Y/N, show them your phone!"

You pull out your phone and open the screen you were just looking at, showing the Hollands the Instagram post and article.

"No way, they're totally hacked." Harry remarks, earning disapproving looks from Nikki and Dom. "if you were really gonna be the next Spiderman, they would have called you."

Before Tom has the time to argue back, his phone rings, as if on cue. Tom pulls it out of his back pocket and nervously studies the number across the screen.

"Well, what are you waiting for div, answer it!" Sam chirps impatiently.

The rest of the room is silent while Tom listens intently to the person the other line. You can't make out what they are saying, but the eventual smile on Tom's face completely gives it away.

"Yes, thank you. Thank you so much for this opportunity," he holds while the other person talks again. "Yeah, I'll be in touch, definitely. Thank you again." Tom ends the call and lets out a sigh of relief. "That was fucking Kevin Feige! I got the part! I actually am gonna be the next Spiderman!"

You and the rest of his family cheered even louder than before, enveloping him in a giant group hug.

"I say we celebrate!" Nikki announces. "How about we go out for a nice dinner?"

Tom smiles, "If I'm honest mum, as nice as that would be, I'd rather just stay in and celebrate here tonight. I like your cooking better than any fancy restaurant anyways."

"Of course honey, I'll make your favorite. We can have a nice big family dinner, how does that sound?"

"Sounds perfect mum, thank you."

She dashes into the kitchen followed by Sam, the aspiring chef of the family, while Dom, Harry, and Paddy go to dress the table.

You take this as your cue to leave, seeing as you don't want to disrupt the rest of Tom's night with his family. "I guess I should get going then," you turn to Tom, hugging him once again. "Congratulations again, I'm so proud of you Tommy." you smile as you head to grab your things before you leave.

"Nonsense! You're staying for dinner too!" Tom stops you.

"Tom, I can't, you should spend this night celebrating with your family." you try to reason with him.

"But I want you here too!" he pouts.

"And you are family!" Nikki pipes in from the kitchen, earning nods of agreement from the rest of the family.

"See, everyone wants you here Y/N, please celebrate with us?" Tom cups your face.

"Are you sure? I really don't want to-"

Nikki cuts you off, piping in once again, "Y/N, I insist you stay for dinner with us. You've been a part of this family for so long, and you know that. So please stay and celebrate with us!" she smiles.

You giggle, "Well, I guess I can't say no to that." Tom smiles, giddily engulfing you in another hug.

After a long and delicious dinner, you and Tom now lay under the stars in the treehouse in his backyard. Dom had built it for you two when you were eight years old, and it's been your special place ever since then. Obviously, it has been upgraded and redecorated since then, now that you and Tom were both eighteen, but it still takes you back to the old days when you were just carefree little kids.

You cuddle into Tom's chest, looking up at the night sky through the small window in the roof of the treehouse. "I wish we could stay here forever," you whisper.

"Me too." Tom pulls you closer, kissing your forehead.

"I don't want things to change Tommy. We're graduating in two weeks, and then you leave for America to go film. I'm so proud of you and so excited for you because I know this is like, your dream, but I really don't know what I'm gonna do without you." A small tear rolls down your cheek which doesn't go unnoticed by Tom.

He wipes the tear off your face with his thumb, cupping your chin to make you face him. "Hey, hey, look at me. Things might be changing, but that doesn't mean we have to. I'm only gonna be gone for a few months, and then I'll be back. I love you so much, and a few hundred miles is never going to change that. I will never let anything come between us, ever, okay?"

You smile softly, "You promise?"

"I promise darling. It's you and me forever. I'm never letting you go. Never in a million years." he kisses you lovingly, and you swear you could just live in this moment for the rest of eternity with him, and only him.

That was six years ago. And what Tom said was true, everything did change. You just wish everything else he had said that night was true too.

~~~~~~~~

FULL FIC COMING SOON! i hope y'all are excited :)

Tagging some cool people: @emmastarz @selfcarecap @heavenlyholland @spideyspeaches @felicityparkers @ithoughtyouweresokovian @anna-sofia @blizzardbabe @bichellejones @londonspidey @erule @holland-styles @spideybrie @annathesillyfriend @starknik22 @theliterarymess

[restapesta]

Fucking Milkovich

words: 5.5k

Five times Ian pulled Mickey away from starting a fight and the one time the roles were reversed.

1. THE STORE

The old lady had been side-eyeing them since they accidentally bumped into her at the wine aisle, Mickey backing into her as he and Ian led a loud, heated discussion about whether or not the Rose that was in Ian's hand was the same one from the gay party they had attended a couple of days before.

Ian was dead set on saying that it was the same bottle of pink wine and that even if it wasn't, it probably tasted the same, all the while Mickey was dead set on proving to Ian that the bottle was most certainly not the same one and that they should crack it open and try it even if they were still in the middle of the supermarket. They were bickering back and forth, not paying much attention to their surroundings, and Mick had backed away from the rack of wines, unceremoniously colliding with the gray-haired lady who was pushing a cart filled to the brim with groceries. It was a miracle the items hadn't toppled out, considering there was a mountain of them. Ian wondered how steadily the lady must've been pushing the cart, and how close his husband had come from knocking it all down.

Mickey had muttered a quick sorry and Ian had shot the lady an apologetic look when she just stared at Mickey and the tattoos that covered his hands and arm, blatantly revealed by his short-sleeved t-shirt. Ian had told him he looked hot in it that morning, so Mickey had kept the jacket off, appeasing his husband's gaze. He felt a bit cold but Ian's eyes following unapologetically as his arms flexed made it all worth it.

Ian gestured for Mickey to leave the aisle with his eyes, accompanied by a sharp tilt of his head -- and they continued their way to the other racks of food and drinks, Ian placing the bottle of wine in their own basket. They weren't there for a full-on grocery run. They were in Costco purely because their snacks and beer needed stocking up, and they needed some shit for the mac-and-cheese Mickey had been craving. Ian had lost a bet while they were at work today so he promised to make him some -- a deed Mickey was quite happy about.

They bumped into the lady once more at the cash register. There were some people six feet in front of them (considering they kept their distance), unloading their stuff, and the woman was mere inches behind them, as if she was waiting in line with the couple, not behind them, pressed close. Mickey shot her a glance and when he noticed her scowl, he gave her a slight smile that Ian knew was obviously not a smile, but rather a 'hello lady I crashed into, why are you standing so close, back away from me and my tall ginger before I tell you to back the fuck away'  threat. He had a feeling the lady caught on to what Ian did, but chose not to comply, considering how her scowl deepened and how she seemed to press impossibly closer.

Mickey and Ian shared a look but kept their mouths shut, preparing to unload their shit onto the moving thingy -- but then the old bat spoke.

"Least you could do is let me cut the line." She was looking straight at Mickey, and to Ian,  judging by the look on his husband's face, it seemed as if he was considering it. But when his gaze swept over the pile in her cart -- the one almost spilling over -- he simply shrugged, "No. I couldn't."

Mickey kept unloading the few items they did have, and Ian followed his lead, but the lady was persistent. "You are very unkind."

Mickey simply muttered an 'uh-uh' as he grabbed the money out of his jacket.

"You should be ashamed."

Mickey rubbed his eyebrow with his thumb and Ian knew that signaled danger, so he pushed him lightly with his shoulder, gesturing for him to pay. Mickey obliged begrudgingly, choosing to ignore the bitch. The cashier was just finishing placing their shit into the plastic bag, handing it to Ian, also handing Mickey back the change. They were going to leave the place unscathed.

Too bad the bitch couldn't keep her mouth shut.

"You should put a leash on him."

Before Mickey had a chance to jump her and gauge her eyes out, Ian wrapped his hands around his torso and pushed him towards the door of the store, whispering 'calm the fuck down' to him curtly, the grocery bag in his hand making it harder to sustain his husband. It wasn't the first time he had done this, and he doubted it would be the last. It was somewhat of a struggle but Ian managed. He also tried to ignore the look of pure horror on the grandma's face.

When he was finally able to get Mickey through the door -- while the guy spewed graphic insults at the hag -- he let go, making sure to keep him a safe distance away from the store.

"What the fuck is it with old bitches being so fucking rude?" Mickey muttered loudly, grabbing the bag out of Ian's hand and pulling out the Rose. He opened the bottle easily and took a long gulp, emptying a third of the bottle with it. His face scrunched up immediately. "I fucking told you it wasn't the same one!"

Ian just shook his head.

Fucking Milkovich.

2. THE JOB

The day had been pretty slow. They had their regular cash pick-ups and deliveries, and they had finished most of them, considering how the day was nearing its end. Both Ian and Mickey were ready to get back home and crash on the couch, maybe down a beer or two, and especially take off the uniforms that had truly made them sweat today. Spring was coming, and fuck if Ian wasn't ready for the onslaught of discomfort the camo brought on with it. Mickey didn't look like he minded it much, but Mickey was Mickey, so it wasn't a surprise. Ian, on the other hand, was already considering alternatives.

They were delivering their last bags of weed, taking a long ass drive to fucking HerbalCare, knowing it would take them a while to get back home too -- but the Northsiders that owned the place were kind of their regulars, so they were used to it.

Both Ian and Mickey expected the usual chick to show up and pick up the marijuana when they eventually got to the place -- the one with the curly red hair and a sassy attitude -- but instead, an unknown guy did with a large-ass man following shortly behind.

The first guy looked like any other -- casual clothing, friendly face, easy demeanor -- unlike -- what Ian supposed was -- his bodyguard. He looked like a capo with his broad shoulders, tight black shirt, tattoos littering his body, head cleanly shaved. Ian glanced reluctantly at his own thug, mentally praying Mickey had a bullet that could take down the motherfuckers in front of them if necessary.

"Can I help you, gentlemen?" The normal-looking one spoke.

Mickey nodded, also slightly taken aback, but not letting it show. "We have a delivery for HerbalCare." He glanced at Ian. "For Dina? Wasn't it?"

Ian nodded slowly, assessing the situation.

"I'll take it from here." The guy responded, eyeing Mickey up and down. "Dina is currently busy at the moment." Mickey didn't seem too happy with the asshat's statement. Ian wasn't either, naturally. The man had an odd vibe to him -- he seemed on edge despite his cool facade, and Ian saw straight through it. He glanced at Mickey who seemed to have been noticing the same thing. They were not handing shit over to these assholes. There's a certain trust you had to earn before claiming a couple of thousand dollars worth of weed from Gallavich Security.

"How 'bout I just speak to Dina, yeah?" Mickey's voice was calm and eery -- he was in boss mode. The mode that even scared Ian, sometimes. It was dangerous territory these guys were treading on if Mickey had resorted to going into the mode only slightly less scary than Milkovich thug mode.

The dude, still nameless, smiled without humor. "Why don't you just give me the weed, huh?"

Mickey pulled out his gun swiftly, pointing it straight at the guy's head. The shock on his face only lasted for a moment before it turned into a smirk. The capo next to him pulled out his own, only slightly smaller than Mickey's, pointing it at Mickey's head.

Well, shit.

Ian pulled out the gun from his waistband, feeling slightly worried for his and his husband's safety, pointing it at the tall-ass man. It was like a scene from a movie. A poor, shitty-quality one.

"How about we all just put down our guns and we'll come back when Dina gets here?" Ian's voice was smooth and the silence hung lowly over them for a couple of moments. Ian was never a gun sort of guy, but rather a talk-it-out one.

They eventually all put down their guns, albeit reluctantly.

"Okay, then. Guess we'll be seeing you." The guy muttered as he turned his back to Ian and Mickey, capo following behind, shooting them a glare. Their movements were slow and deliberate, but eventually, when they were a safe distance away, the capo turned around and shot them the middle finger.

Ian was just barely in time to stop Mickey before he leaped out to kill the motherfucker.

He wrapped his arms around him like a boa constrictor, attempting to stop him from committing homicide. As always, it took a while.

Mickey growled after a minute or two, finally calming down, glaring at the spot the asshole thieves were a few moments before. "Oh, you fucking will be seeing me. You'll be seeing me in your nightmares, you motherfuckers."

Ian barely contained himself from rolling his eyes.

Fucking Milkovich.

3. THE ALIBI

Ian had been nursing a beer for the past hour while his worse half had already downed three. Mickey was on his fourth glass of Budweiser, slightly tipsy, but not quite drunk just yet as he and Ian enjoyed their night out, something one might even call a date (correction: something only Ian would call a date).

They had gone out for chicken wings, played some pool after dinner -- even took a fucking stroll out -- and now, they were chilling at the Alibi Room, enjoying each other's companies, talking about anything and everything, laughing at Kevin's jokes and making fun of Kermit and Tommy, the regular drunks of the Southside.

It was a slow day today, their job weighing a little extra heavy on their shoulders, but the night was swift, in contrast. In fact, they were having a really good time, letting go of all of the fucked-up things happening in their lives right now, the burden coming off of their shoulders, even for a little while. And Ian was especially looking forward to the sex that was bound to follow when they got back home. Hell, if Mickey continues drinking the beers at this pace, maybe even in the bathroom -- it truly only depended on the level of horniness the drunken state would illicit.

They were still enjoying their alcohol and horniness when Kermit had decided to remind everyone of a comment. Ian guessed it wasn't supposed to be that big of a deal. Both Ian and Mickey had dealt with far worse from people far shittier than Tommy and Kermit. But the comment  --  the one about how Tommy was against their wedding, saying it was a man-woman thing -- didn't really sit well with either of them. Ian had no idea how the topic even came up, and the whole 'kind of drunk and talk-y' Mickey wasn't helping the case, but the words most certainly had an undesired effect on the couple.

Mickey had stilled immediately.

It wasn't that big of a deal. Homophobes were all around them, and they knew that Tommy was as gay and as homophobic as any of them, and Mickey would probably ignore the comment had he not been this content with the night he was having.

Here he was with Ian, having a great time, enjoying his life, his marriage, and over-all his husband, and this asshole was going to ruin it with this comment. This stupid, meaningless comment.

Neither Ian nor Mickey lived in a fantasy -- the one where everyone was supportive of the gays and where love was simply love, no matter if it was between a male and a female, or a male and a male -- but sometimes, they forgot what world they actually lived in and in those moments they were at their most vulnerable to these sort of remarks. They cut them deep, Mickey especially.

He was so happy with Ian, so happy with his marriage, the life they shared, that the outside world rarely even mattered. But when he heard someone saying how they shouldn't have gotten married -- shouldn't have been enjoying their love and relationship, shouldn't be where they are now -- Mickey got pissed.

"Oh yeah, Tommy? Man-woman thing?" Mickey's voice was unnervingly steady.

Kevin eyed Kermit, silently conveying the question, "why the fuck would you say that". Kermit shrugged but Mickey only had eyes for dear old Tom. He was watching him like prey.

Tommy gulped, not as afraid of Mickey as he used to be, but definitely not one-hundred percent safe around him either. Everybody knew Mickey protected himself and his family -- Ian and the Gallaghers -- only. Everyone else could just go fuck themselves. Tommy fell into the latter group.

"That's just the way I've been taught. Y'all are good, enjoy your marriage." He attempted to climb out of the hole he had dug for himself but it wasn't really working. The asshole had made it too deep and had fallen into it headfirst.

"Oh, I'm so fucking happy I have your approval." Mickey bit back.

"Oh, no," Ian muttered lowly. "Mick."

"You should be happy I don't have a gun on me now. Now, while I'm on a date with my husband." He annunciated the words slowly, making sure Tommy understood and heard them very well and remembered them for good. Ian's heart fluttered at the mention of the word date, but he reeled it back in for now. He could enjoy it later when Mickey wasn't on the verge of murdering someone.

"Hey man, how 'bout you just calm down?"

Tommy really wanted to die today.

Ian was pushing Mickey out of the bar before he strangled the man with his bare hands. Mickey cursed as they were leaving, resisting his husband as he attempted to drag him out. Ian barely got them through the door, and when he did, Mickey tried hard to go back in.

Ian hissed at him to stop. Eventually, Mickey did.

"I see him one more time, I'm killing him, understood?" Mickey was baring his teeth at the bar as if Tommy could see him. "Him and his counterpart."

Ian closed his eyes briefly.

Fucking Milkovich.

4. THE BLEACHERS

It had always been their spot. From the beginning, it was a place for Ian and Mickey to run away to, not just to hook up, but to escape their lives and the turmoils of their families, each fucked up in its own fucked up way. It was easy for them to just disappear for a while, fucking against the fence, shot-gunning beer with no one to reprimand them for when they left the cans on the stadium, the world completely oblivious that it was the odd duo. Not just Mickey Milkovich, the infamous Southside thug, and not just Ian Gallagher, the skinny army ginger -- but both Ian and Mickey, a pairing no one saw coming, not from a million light-years away.

It was easier back then, sure, but now, it was better. They used to just fuck underneath the bleachers, making it nothing more than a hook-up spot, barely touching after sex, drinking beer like just a couple of friends, not like they were in between rounds, Ian aching for more, Mickey denying him access to it. Ian knew Mickey wouldn't even admit they were friends back then.

But then again, it was different then than it was now.

Now the bleachers were their spot. Not just a fuck spot like it used to be. No -- it was a hangout spot. They didn't have their own place yet -- that was still a work in progress -- and when the Gallagher house became too loud and too messy for them to just enjoy their night, outside of the confines of their room, they went to the bleachers.

It wasn't a regular occurrence, more like a once-a-month sort of thing, but it still felt great and rejuvenating -- it felt like them. A space in the dark where they could just talk and drink and mess around and make out in, unapologetically relieved of the burden on their shoulders, whatever it may be.

Tonight was a night like that, a night where all they wanted and needed to do was escape -- Terry's death was still weighing heavy on Mickey's soul, for reasons Mickey and Ian both had yet to uncover, and the house was brimming with too many Gallaghers with too many opinions and observations. They needed a break.

The spot under the bleachers was supposed to be reserved for them as always, and they had brought along a six-pack of beer as well, deciding to just get drunk, even if they still had to get to work the next morning. It would be a good ending to a shitty week.

But the asshole kids sitting at their spot weren't gonna let that play out.

Ian and Mickey were aware that they were grown-ass men, but it was ten pm and these children had no right to even be near the bleachers let alone smoking and drinking underneath them. They were far from teens and they reminded Ian of himself and Lip when they were mere eleven-year-olds trying to figure the messed-up world out.

Mickey didn't really see it that way. He was clearly just annoyed.

"Beat it." He said in a curt voice, flicking his wrist to point to the imaginary exit. Ian followed suit reluctantly, only after trying to convince Mickey to just let them have at it and go to the dugouts instead.

"No Ian, we came here because this is our spot and these little fuckers need to go." Mickey had responded.

Ian was aware his husband had issues.

He was used to it.

The kids laughed, the three voices laughing merging, sounding more like a pack of hyenas. "Watcha' gonna do about it, grandpa?"

Mickey had a very shitty couple of days.

Mickey was not a well-tempered person.

Mickey was on the verge of killing something.

These kids were the catalyst.

When Mickey took a swift step towards them, Ian was once again -- how many times was it, now? -- holding him back. The kids scattered around, scared shitless of the thug. They were gone in the blink of an eye.

Ian felt sorry for them, but he was happy that, at least, Mickey didn't dump their tiny bodies in the river. Not that Mickey would've actually done that.

Ian hoped.

"I was one second from threatening to eat them for lunch," Mickey grumbled. He then pointed at the free spot. "At least they're gone. Gimme that beer, I wanna have some good drunk sex."

He made a gesture with his fingers and smiled as if nothing had happened. Wasn't Ian supposed to be the crazy one?

Fucking Milkovich.

5.  THE GALLAGHER HOUSE

Debbie Gallagher was extremely annoying nine times out of ten. Ian Gallagher knew it. Mickey Milkovich knew. The entire Gallagher clan knew it. But today, she seemed especially bitchy.

It was a Friday night -- usually reserved for a good home-cooked meal, chilling on the couch, watching TV,  and just having a family night altogether. Even Lip and Tami were in the house on Fridays, bringing Fred along to play with Franny and Liam (who would more-so look after them than play with them).

That's how the nights usually went.

But tonight, Debbie the Brat had every intention of fucking it up.

She sauntered into the house, bitchiness oozing from her pores, head held high even though it should have been bowed down in shame. She was drunk off her rocks, and she was dragging Franny along with her.

"Hi, assholes." She greeted the family in the kitchen, letting go of Franny's hand, pulling her sunglasses off to reveal blood-shot eyes. God knows where the hell she had been today. All Ian knew was that she left the house sober with Franny and was now completely drunk, if not high, the little girl still trailing behind.

"Wash your hands, Fran," Liam instructed, eyeing Debbie up and down. She seemed even more fucked up than usual in his eyes.

She plopped herself down on the closest free chair which happened to be across Mickey. It was quiet for a few moments, everyone waiting for something to happen. Debbie was an unpredictable drunk, something they were only lately discovering.

It seemed like Debbie had woken up today and chosen violence.

She looked straight into Mickey's eyes. "Your cousin is a cunt."

Mickey raised an eyebrow while the other Gallaghers observing the exchange. Ian was sat next to him. He put his utensils down, not sure how this exchange was going to unravel, also pulling Mickey's knife out of reach, in a way he hoped was inconspicuous.

Just in case.

"She is a self-absorbed cunt who has no business in this house anymore." Deborah continued as if someone gave a shit. Mickey especially.

He shrugged. "Last I'd seen her was the morning after you guys broke up. I couldn't give less of a shit about whether or not she's with you or not with you. For fuck's sake, the break-up happened a long-ass time ago, get over it." Mickey looked down at his plate, continuing to eat his dinner, clearly signifying the conversation was over. He glanced at Ian when he couldn't find his knife.

Instead of moving on, Debbie grabbed a loaf of bread and threw it at him.

Mickey stilled.

Carl elbowed her hard but she paid no attention to the warning. She was having a staring contest with Mickey Milkovich. One she would eventually lose.

"Back the fuck off, Debbie," Ian warned himself.

She switched her gaze from Mickey to Ian. Her gaze was murderous. "Or what, Ian? You'll try and kill me with a bat?"

Collective silence fell over the table. Noone seemed to be breathing. All eyes switched to Ian, gauging his reaction, not believing the words that had left Debbie's mouth, but even warier of the ones that were bound to leave Ian's.

Ian had other things occupying his mind, though, and one of those things was his husband who was probably a second away from killing his sister-in-law.

"You bitch." Ian held Mickey down by his shoulders as he attempted to climb over the table and tackle her to the floor. "You and your condescending cunt can fuck off."

"Mickey. Come on." Ian pushed him out of the chair and shoved him lightly, indicating for him to go upstairs.

"No, Ian. She needs to be set fucking straight, or else you'll have a new Frank on your hands. This bitch." He fought against him as Debbie just sat still.

"Mickey." Ian shoved him towards the stairs, afraid he would have to explain to the cops how his husband murdered his sister if Mickey didn't leave the room, immediately. Mickey noticed Ian's serious expression, and slowly climbed up, all the while muttering to Debbie to go fuck herself.

Ian glanced at Debbie from where he stood.

"What?" She asked, innocently.

"Who the fuck do you think you are?"

Debbie snorted. "Sorry if I hurt your feelings. Not like it wasn't true."

"I couldn't give less of a shit whether or not you think I'm crazy. You come in here and talk to Mickey like that again, I will be using a bat. Only then you'll see how crazy I can get." Ian was dead serious.

It was the first time since she came in that her eyes truly widened in fear.

He backed away upstairs slowly.

The rest of the Gallaghers were silent for a moment before they all collectively shot Debbie a dirty look, soon erupting in chatter, as if nothing had happened.

It had been merely a few seconds before Ian had entered their room, when Mickey finally started his rant, talking shit about Debbie, defending Ian being at the core of it all.

He had a lot to say, and Ian was going to listen to it all, like the supportive husband he was, always taking Mick's side.

As he listened to Mickey rant about Debbie, he thought about what he had said to her. It was true -- every single word that had left his mouth. He hoped she and the rest of them -- no matter who it was -- understood.

Mickey was more important to him than anyone else in this world, even his sister. He was Ian's family, his next of kin, the one Ian trusted and loved the most. When push comes to shove, he will chose him, no matter what. He will always choose his husband, the love of his life, his worse half.

God, he was soft.

Fucking Milkovich.

+1 THE STORE, THE JOB, THE ALIBI, THE BLEACHERS, THE GALLAGHERS

"You really keep me from killing people, man. Feel like I should thank you."

Mickey had muttered that lowly in the dark, his head resting on Ian's chest, both of them naked, enjoying their post-sex bliss. It was then when they were at their most open, letting out emotions and feelings that usually didn't seep into the mundane day.

Ian ran his fingers along Mickey's bare back, enjoying how Mickey shivered against them. "You do the same thing." He answered simply.

Mickey raised his head slightly to look at his husband. "No, I don't. I've never had to physically pull you away from stabbing or strangling someone."

"You do realize I usually get as pissed off as you do at these things."

"These things?"

Ian rolled his eyes in the dark. "C'mon Mick. You really think I'm okay with an old lady calling you rude and ignorant and judging you like you're nothing but a street rat. Or some assholes flipping us off after trying to steal our weed?" He adjusted his arm so it rested over Mickey's shoulder, Mickey's cheek pressed into his peck. "You think I don't get mad when Tommy talks about how we shouldn't have gotten married because we're men? Or how Debbie had the audacity to talk to you like that, in front of me."

"You never react to it, though. That's why I don't pull you away from starting shit. You kind of just stay calm." Mickey responded to Ian's short monologue.

Ian chuckled. "Mick. If I wasn't so busy pulling you away, I'd probably be the one murdering them all."

This time Mickey raised his head to fully look at Ian. They adjusted their positions so it was easier to keep each other's gaze.

"I'm serious," Ian responded to Mickey's expression of disbelief.

Ian was completely and utterly serious. That shit happened a lot.

In fact, had Ian not been so busy pushing Mickey out of the store, the plastic bag filled with shit they needed for dinner and the expensive -- but probably not correct -- Rosè in one of his hands, making sure his husband didn't go to prison for stabbing the geriatric bitch, he would have gotten really fucking pissed and probably have gone off at the grandma himself.

If Mickey didn't attempt to go after the fucking thieves, like the sociopath he was, Ian would've probably pulled out his gun and pointed it at the men's fucking back. Maybe he would've even tried emptying the clip.

Mickey trying to strangle Tommy was good enough of a distraction for Ian not to beat the asshole up himself. How fucking dare he talk about marriage like that, the drunk bitch. Ian would've been a second away from hurling himself at Tommy and beating the shit out of him -- but fuck it if Ian was gonna let Mickey get arrested for aggravated assault and risk his parole.

The kids at the bleachers didn't bother him. He knew Mickey had a soft spot for kids himself, so it was more of a hissy fit than a homicidal fit.

Debbie was the one that truly made his blood boil.

"You know," Ian began. "I would've probably signed a death warrant on Debbie and mine's relationship that night if you weren't there."

"How so?" Mickey was caressing Ian's cheek with his thumb, giving him the biggest case of heart-eyes. Ian didn't doubt that was how he was looking at Mickey himself.

"When she was saying that shit, all I could think of was making sure you didn't kill her. I barely registered what the fuck she was saying. I was trying to keep you from flipping the table and making Franny an orphan." Mickey rolled his eyes but kept silent. He knew there was truth in Ian's words. "But, if you weren't there. If Debbie had just started talking about me and the whole bipolar thing and I didn't have you to keep me from actually letting the words sink in..." He drifted off, not knowing how he would've reacted. The words would have probably cut him deep.

Shifting closer, Mickey pressed his palm against Ian's cheek. "Do we need to talk about how you should under no circumstance listen to your bitch of a sister? What happened all those years ago happened while you were manic and off your meds. Her using that as a comeback in an argument is low and a fucking betrayal. Right now, you are the healthiest you've been since your diagnosis and you shouldn't let her get in your head. Hell, if I have to, I'll fucking try and murder anyone to stop the words from -- what did you say -- sinking in?" Ian laughed wetly, feeling himself get emotional over Mickey's little speech.

"You're amazing, Ian." He finished. "I'm proud of you."

Ian pulled Mickey's body close, making their naked bodies press flush against each other. Their noses touched as Ian took a moment to appreciate what the universe had given him. The soft lines of Mickey's face, the blemishes, and the tiny scars -- the eyebrows Ian had joked were iconic to him -- everything that made Mickey Milkovich his Mickey.

A kid forged in hate and homophobia, morphed by the Southside into a short-tempered thug, capable of murder in the blink of an eye if you so much as looked at him wrong. A Milkovich taught to care for nobody but family, to stay loyal to them and never snitch, but also taught to put a bullet in their fucking heads if betrayed. A hard-ass and a thief, ready to shamelessly steal from any store of his choosing, barely giving a shit whether it lands him in juvie or not.

A man capable of so much love. A man who took care of Ian when he was at his worst, made sure to keep him safe and protected. The man who came out for him in front of his worst nightmare, all so he could keep Ian, even if he was nothing but a mess kept together by unawareness. A man capable of murder for Ian. A man capable of running away with Ian. A man capable of going back to prison for Ian. A man who loved Ian, and would always try to keep him safe.

"You done staring?" Mickey smirked at him.

Ian smiled, shaking his head slightly. "I don't think I'll ever be." He then added, quietly, "I'm so lucky."

Mickey nodded, his lips mere inches away from Ian's. "I am too."

Soft lips moved against each other slowly, creating a rhythm Ian never wanted to lose.

He knew he never would.

His life, even after all the worst possible shit a person could imagine, was pretty fucking great. All thanks to Mickey.

His husband.

His partner.

His soulmate.

His worse half.

His Milkovich.

THE END

[tcm]

In Memory of Brian, Fred and Jerry by Susan King

I mourn the loss of Hollywood legends, especially those I have interviewed over the years. I broke into tears when Debbie Reynolds died four years ago, recalling our last chat together in 2016 when we did a duet of “Moses Supposes.” And I still haven’t watched TO KILL A MOCKINGBIRD (’62) since Gregory Peck died in 2003. I had the opportunity to interview the handsome Oscar-winner at his now torn down home in 1997 and 1999. He was everything you’d hope he would be – sweet, intelligent and funny. He also loved Bob Dylan. His last words to me as he walked me to my car were: “You are a most interesting young lady.”

In 2020 alone, I lost over 20 former interviewees including Kirk Douglas, whom I interviewed eight times between 1986-2017, and my beloved Olivia de Havilland, who I found to be delightful and a bit ribald in the two interviews I did with her. I got more than a little misty when Brian Dennehy, Fred Willard and Jerry Stiller died this year. They were supremely talented and made our lives a little brighter with their performances. And, they all were great guys and fun interviews.

Brian Dennehy

I interviewed Brian Dennehy, who died in April at the age of 81, several times in the early 1990s when I was at the L.A. Times. The former U.S. Marine and football player was intimidating at first sight. He was tall, burly and barrel-chested. He had a no-nonsense quality about him, and he spoke his mind. But he also was funny.

In 1991, discussing how hard it was for some actors to land parts after starring in a TV series, he noted “coming off a TV series is a tough deal, and you go into limbo land for a while, if not forever. Most actors go immediately to the ‘Island of Lost Actors’ and stay there. Troy Donahue is the mayor.” Dennehy never went to that island. Not with the complex and often memorable performances he gave in such films as FIRST BLOOD (’82), SILVERADO (’85), COCOON (’85), PRESUMED INNOCENT (’90) and as Big Tom in the comedy TOMMY BOY (’95).

He was nominated for five Emmys, including one for his chilling turn as serial killer John Wayne Gacy in the miniseries To Catch a Killer (’92).

I had one of the most extraordinary evenings at the theater in 2000 when Dennehy reprised his Tony Award-winning role as the tragic Willy Loman at the Ahmanson Theatre in Los Angeles in the lauded revival of Arthur Miller’s masterpiece Death of a Salesman. It was a gut-wrenching performance that left me emotionally exhausted. He earned another Tony in 2003 as James Tyrone in the revival of Eugene O’Neill’s superb Long Day’s Journey into Night. And he never stopped working.

Shortly after his death, the drama DRIVEWAYS (2020) was released on streaming platforms. And it could be Dennehy’s greatest performance. He plays Del, an elderly widower and Korean War vet who sparks a warm friendship with Cody, the young boy next door. The reviews for the film (it’s at 100% fresh on Rotten Tomatoes) and Dennehy have been glowing. The L.A. Times’ Justin Chang wrote that Dennehy’s Del is as “forceful and tender a creation as any in this great actor’s body of work.” And Jeannette Catsoulis of The New York Times stated: “What we might remember most, perhaps appropriately, are Dennehy’s warm, weary features and rich line readings. In a lovely final monologue, Del advises Cody to avoid rushing past the experiences in life that matter, as they pass so quickly on their own. Much like the careers of beloved actors.”

Fred Willard

I first encountered Fred Willard as the clueless sidekick of sleazy talk show host Barth Gimble (Martin Mull) in the late 1970s on the syndicated comedy series Fernwood Tonight and its continuation America 2-Night. I quickly became a fan, and that admiration grew when he became a member of Christopher Guest’s stock company of zanies in such comedies as WAITING FOR GUFFMAN (’96) and BEST IN SHOW (2000). In the latter, he played the equally clueless dog show announcer Buck Laughlin who quipped in his color commentary, “And to think that in some counties these dogs are eaten.”

Willard told me in a 2012 L.A. Times interview that he didn’t think he was funny until he was an adult. “I always loved comedy growing up – Bob Hope, Red Skelton and Danny Kaye,” said Willard, who died in May at the age of 86.

Willard got a serious part in Tennessee Williams’ one-act in a summer theater group when he was in his 20s. “I was getting laughs on all the lines,” he noted. “The director got upset because the audiences were always laughing. I didn’t try to do it deliberately. Then I realized I would say things around people, and they would laugh. I didn’t mean to be funny. I have always been relaxed around comedy.”

Just as Dennehy, Willard kept working. In fact, he received an Emmy nomination posthumously for his hilarious turn as Ty Burrell’s goofball dad on ABC’s Modern Family. He told me he wished he could try to do more dramatic fare like in Clint Eastwood’s World War II drama Flags of Our Fathers (2006). Willard even called his agent to see if he could get a role in the movie. “Clint Eastwood’s people called back and said, ‘We love Fred, but we are afraid if he appeared on the screen, they might start to laugh.’’’

Jerry Stiller

Jerry Stiller was a real sweetie and also very thoughtful. He sent me a lovely thank you note when I interviewed him and his wife, Anne Meara, in the early 1990s. When I talked to him for his son Ben Stiller’s remake of THE HEARTBREAK KID (2007), Stiller sent me a lovely bouquet of flowers. Ditto in 2010 when I interviewed the couple for a Yahoo! Web series Stiller & Meara: A Show About Everything. I also received Christmas cards until Meara died in 2015.

Baby boomers remember Stiller, who died at 92 in May, and Meara for their smart and sophisticated comedy act, in which the majority of the humor came from the fact that he was Jewish and she was born Irish Catholic. They recorded albums, were popular on the nightclub circuit and did The Ed Sullivan Show three dozen times. They split up their act when musical variety series went away.

Both were terrific dramatic actors. In fact, I saw Stiller in the 1984 Broadway production of Hurlyburly, David Rabe’s scathing look at Hollywood, and he did a 1997 production of Chekhov’s The Three Sisters. Of course, Stiller garnered even more success in his Emmy-nominated role as Frank Costanza, the caustic father of George (Jason Alexander) on NBC’s Seinfeld (1993-98) and was the best reason to watch CBS’ sitcom The King of Queens (1998-2007) as Kevin James’ acerbic father-in-law

But I most remember that 2010 interview where Stiller and Meara bantered back and forth much to my enjoyment. Here they talk about Ed Sullivan:

Anne: I never liked him.

Jerry: You are out of your mind. You never liked him?

Anne: He scared stuff out of me. I am talking about Mr. Sullivan himself. I wasn’t the only one. There were international favorites throwing up in the wings—singers and tenors and guys who spin plates. It was live. We were scared.

Jerry: Ed Sullivan brought us up to the level that we knew we never could get to – him standing there on the right side of the wings laughing, tears coming out of his eyes and then calling us over and saying, ‘You know, we got a lot of mail on that last show you did.’ I said, ‘From Catholic or Jewish people?’ He said, ‘The Lutherans.’”

[annaphoenix1994]

Masterlist Here:

Run, Baby, Run!

"Is there a problem, officer?" Lonnie asked, watching the young, blonde-headed deputy approach his window, a smirk on his face.

"Are you with Tommy Doyle?"

"Y-Yeah..." Lonnie sweated profusely. Fuck, I'm caught...

The deputy approached the side of Lonnie's SUV, shining his flashlight into the back seat, watching the woman in the back seat wince from the intense light. There you are, you little bitch.

"He's got that mob together going after Michael, right?" He asked Lonnie.

"Um, yes..."

"And he's using her as bait?"

"Um, yes...?"

"Good idea."

"I'm sorry, um, what?"

The deputy turned off his flashlight, looking at her from the window. "I think she recognizes me."

She began to panic, squirming relentlessly in the back seat as she saw him putting his flashlight away before putting his forearms on the window of Lonnie's SUV, "She's coming with me. I've already talked to Karen. We have a plan set up."

"Wh-what?"

"Tommy is gathering a mob to attack him. He's after her. We're going to use her to lure him in then kill them both."

Lonnie gulped, wondering if this was all part of the whole plan... or if this deputy was just as sick as they were. He gripped his steering wheel as the cargo light came on, hearing her muffled cries as he roughly handled her. "Aw, look at this little ring you got on here. You won't be needing that." He laughed at her, jerking the ring from her finger - a ring that Michael had gotten for her. She didn't know how he did or what he did to get it, but she assumed - still accepting it.

She had concluded that Michael was still alive judging by the subject of talk she had overheard in the last few minutes, but she wasn't sure completely. All she wanted was this to end - her contractions to end. With every jarring action and sudden movement, another contraction would come. Luckily, she had remembered that these contractions were several minutes apart. She was close, but not close enough.

He forced her out of the SUV, forcefully shoving her into the backseat of his patrol car, his rough hands sliding down her bare thighs as they stopped at the ratchet strap that kept them together. She tried to kick at him, but it was no good. "Don't you go trying anything stupid," He growled, grasping the clasp on the strap, ratcheting the strap a notch tighter, watching at how her already-raw skin reacted to it. A slight part of him felt bad for how she was being treated, but he didn't care. After all, he was the one who put the scar on her shoulder during their relationship in the past. Her body shuddered in chills. She was wearing a loose T-shirt and shorts - something she would be doing house chores in - and wool socks. She was freezing in this weather. "And to think you left me and ended up with a monster like him. And carrying his baby. You're disgusting." He scoffed, shutting the door before walking around the front of his vehicle, dismissing Lonnie from the scene, watching him speed off to find Tommy to let him know about what happened.

He heard her whine in pain, remembering that he didn't let her move her feet before shutting the door on her, probably hurting her even more, but he didn't care. This was his night of revenge on her - revenge on her for leaving him. "Sheriff Barker, copy?"

"Go ahead."

"Wellness check on Harris is complete."

"10-4. Thank you."

Kevin chuckled, looking back at her through the welded mesh separating them. Stupid bastard. If he only knew...

oOo

Cameron and Allyson ran to Lonnie's SUV as he pulled up to the city park, seeing Lindsay's car sitting against the curb - hazard lights blinking, every window busted out, and nobody in sight. Tommy approached as Lonnie rolled down his window, "It's covered in blood. There's no bodies. It's Michael. He's here."

"Jesus..."

"We need to stop him before he kills more of them-"

"-Then give him back what he's after!" Allyson said, frustrated. None of this would've fucking happened if she wasn't taken in the first place!

"What? You think this is gonna be some type of hostage hand-over and things will return to being fine?" Tommy scoffed at her. "He needs to die. What part of that don't you get?"

"For fuck's sake, Tommy, she's pregnant. It doesn't matter who the father is. What matters is that she needs help. All night, I have sat and watched my mom and grandmother degrade her for it, not caring if she dies or not. That's inhumane and she needs help. She has suffered enough."

Tommy shook his head, looking in the back seat of the SUV before looking at Lonnie, "Where is she?"

No response, just a stare.

"Where is she, Lonnie?!"

"A... a cop took her."

Goddammit!

oOo

"Mia... Mia... Mia... Wake up..."

She teetered in and out of what felt like a bad dream. She was still in pain from her contractions, but they were still several minutes apart. She knew she needed help, but if this all was just a bad dream, then all she had to do was wake Michael up and -

Michael? That's not your voice...

She slowly looked around, seeing her kitchen - she was in a chair. The house was dark, only lit by the moon and the hallway plug-in light that made her house smell like mulled cider. Who is talking to me?!

Then, she felt lips on her neck. "Mia... Get your ass up."

She knew that voice. His voice.

Kevin.

The greasy rag was still in her mouth, soaked in saliva and tears. The tape that kept it stuffed into her mouth felt as if it was retightened. She looked down, seeing that the ratchet strap was still tight around the top of her knees, now cutting into her raw flesh. She felt Kevin's rough hands on her shoulders, squeezing them firmly before he trailed his hands down her arms, making her shiver as his hands stopped at her wrists, untying her restraint before walking around the chair to face her. Why is he letting me go?

"You'll be free to go soon enough. Just let me take this off." He said, loosening the ratchet that had been painfully digging into her legs. "You're free to go... Best get to running. Your man is out there looking for you."

She took a moment to gather her balance, her adrenaline pumping as she now knew that Kevin was not being sentimental. He was toying with her.

"Time to end this little charade." He grumbled reaching to the knife block to retrieve a kitchen knife, giving her a headstart before going after her, following her trail as she had exited her house through the patio door, rushing down the stairs to run to the barn to find a weapon.

"I can hear you, babygirl!" She heard him shout from afar. She slowed down, trying her best to find her bearings as she kept running into things.

She found her way into the feed room, tucking herself into the corner before removing the rag that was in her mouth now that her hands were free. I need to get to my truck keys... She thought, wondering how she could flank him and get back into the house as now, this was a fight for her life. This wasn't about Michael hunting Michael anymore, this was about putting salt on Michael's wound. She waited patiently, hearing him walking through the barn in search for her.

When she heard him pass the door for the feed room, she slowly made her way to her feet, steadily looking both ways to see that he was gone. Now making a break for it, then ran out of the barn and back towards the house, suddenly wishing that it wasn't a few hundred feet away. Another contraction hit, nearly knocking her to her knees, but she knew she had to keep fighting.

"Run, baby! Run!" She heard him shout from the barn. You won't be runnin' for long...

He removed his Glock from its holster, aiming his gun right at her torso, angling his arms down to position his aim right at her feet, breathing out as he pulled the trigger, the bullet going clean through her bare thigh, sending her down onto the ground in a fit of excruciating pain. "Lord, I bet that hurt. I heard that bone shatter from here!" He laughed, approaching her as she managed to turn onto her side, trying desperately to stand up. God, please let someone come out to investigate the shot! PLEASE!

"Get up!" He shouted, using his foot to kick her where the bullet had lodged. "Get up!"

Growing angry, he made her turn onto her back to face him, his face red with rage as he removed his belt, "I sure don't know about you, but I wish I would've brought a bullwhip for the occasion, but this'll do." He said, raising the belt up behind his head before delivering a powerful blow to her chest, her cries of pain being nothing but music to his ears. "You like that, huh? You like being helpless? Huh?" He questioned, repeating his blows all over her body, focusing especially on the new wound on her thigh. "What's that old man got that I don't have, huh? He must be hung like a horse, huh?" He shouted. "And you're carrying his baby. Little too old to have kids, huh? Could open your legs for that freak, but you sure couldn't do that for me!"

She desperately tried to block her belly from him, leaving her face completely vulnerable to him, but she didn't care. Anything to keep him from hurting the life inside of her, even if it meant having to suffer the wounds she kept acquiring. "I'm going to take your baby and your man from you. You won't have nobody left but me!"

"Fuck you!" She cried.

"Fuck me? FUCK ME?" He grimaced. "No, fuck you!"

He straddled her, tossing the belt aside as he clamped his hands around her throat, squeezing harshly. She tried to fight him, but he was too strong. She dug her nails into his arms, attempting to reach his face to put her thumbs into his eyes, but it was almost too late. She was seeing stars, the brightness coming close to narrowing her vision completely.

In a final attempt to protect herself, she ran her left hand down his side, feeling for his Glock and removing it from its holster. She was thankful that it was semi-automatic as she didn't have to manually load it as she aimed it at him, squeezing the trigger for the bullet to graze the back of his head, causing him to pause and fall to his side. He lay there, stunned. She didn't kill him, but she put a halt to his attack as it was possible he was paralyzed. Laying there for a moment to catch her breath and slow her heart rate, another contraction came, indicating that she was getting closer and closer to going into active labor. C'mon, baby, please don't come out yet. Momma needs to get somewhere safe...

[kainetestament]

Deciphering Peter’s conversation with Wanda

1. Wanda tried to test Peter by asking him about the name of the boy that has a skin problem who always steal his shoes to which Peter counter “You’re testing me.” And has successfully divert the conversation by telling her “I know I look different.” Wanda do feel his brother is not the same brother she remembers. That even us viewers wonder why Peter and not Pietro is present? Though I do have a theory about that and talk about below.

2.  “I'm just trying to do my part, okay? Come to town unexpectedly, create tension with the brother-in-law, stir up trouble with the rugrats, and ultimately give you grief. I mean, that's what you wanted, isn't it?” For these sentences, it kind of look like someone is speaking for him (like he’s possessed). Peter gave off the ‘mischievous elder brother’ or possibly has a sister complex as seen X-Men Days of Future Past. If this is really him, giving Wanda a grief will definitely be the last thing he’ll do, pranking her? Maybe, like what he did when Vision left the house and sneak up on her back on Episode 6.

3. Peter said “Details are fuzzy, man. I got shot like a chump on the street for no reason at all and the next thing I know, I heard you calling me. I knew you needed me.” And Wanda has a confused look on her face. Also, If we go on FANDOM, Wanda’s profile has been updated and one of the updates the user add was “He told her that he heard her calling him after he was shot by Ultron, and that he knew she needed him.” First of all, whoever made an update, none of Peter’s words mentioned Ultron, and didn’t imply Ultron as well, second Pietro was not shot for no reason at all, Ultron was firing bullets from Quinjet and Pietro have to save Hawkeye and the kid he’s holding, Peter on the other hand phrase it as “no reason at all”, so I don’t believe it’s anything related to Ultron.

Let’s translate what Peter just said, “I got shot like a chump on the street” – if we are to simplify this sentence, he could meant he’s running (as usual) on the street and got knocked down because he’s an easy target (after all, chump means a foolish or easily deceived person), or someone stopped him from running then he was hit by something, then when he’s trying to understand what happened, he can hear in his head his sister calling him, in probably mournful voice because he claimed “I knew you needed me.” Because before he appeared, when Wanda mentions Pietro (in past tense), she was still smiling, almost indicating she was able to move on from his passing, then when was asked by Tommy if Wanda have a brother, she now spoke of him in present tense “He’s far away from here, and that makes me sad sometimes.” – this could probably be what he meant when he say “I heard you calling me. I knew you needed me.” Because Wanda is now reminiscing the Pietro, and could possibly be now in denial with him and she wants to see him. We don’t know what’s going on in X-Men Universe and hell Earth-616 is one confusing world. Retelling it here in MCU that X-Men could probably be from different multiverse will make it less confusing as well.

Also Wanda was not officially introduced in X-Men Universe, but on the delete scene of Days of Future Past, Ms Maximoff (their mom) said to her youngest “Go upstairs and bug your sister”, implying (and confirmed by the director) that the “sister” is Wanda and she does exists in X-Men world, Peter being the eldest of the siblings, have a big brotherly love for his younger siblings so he easily got brainwashed and was summoned to Earth 616, we can only theorize that Mephisto discovered him as he was travelling thru the multiverse (as per his comics abilities), discovered Wanda and Pietro. Who knows if Wanda of X-Men Universe is alive or dead, but we can try and think, why this Wanda? If Mephisto has the ability to travel to the multiverse, he can chose Wanda of other multiverse too. Is it because of her involvement with the Infinity Stone? So this Wanda is so special because she is able to mother twins without a man’s help? We just have to wait for 2 more episodes for answers.

Also on top of Wanda not being introduce X-Men Universe, FOX changed Pietro’s name to Peter because MCU is also introducing another Pietro, but in MCU, they killed Pietro, this is probably due to copyrights restrictions (between Disney and FOX) because both Pietro and Wanda can appear on both franchise with some restrictions, which makes sense why there’s only Wanda in MCU and only Peter in X-Men World to avoid referencing the restrictions due to legal rights. Now that the Multiverse is being introduced, they can now cross Peter from X-Men World to MCU as a mutant (vice versa) and can also be referred to as Magneto’s children since the restrictions have been lifted. Although another possibility that the MCU killed Pietro is because MCU and FOX already planned ahead for a possible future Multiverse since way back, once the First Generation of Avengers retires (Tony Stark, Steve Rogers, etc.), that is possibly the time they can introduce the mutants. Because if the First Generation is still present when the Mutants arrive, it could destroy the balance of the super heroes line up and the MCU might become a trash of super hero franchise, which of course they won’t want that to happen. By killing Pietro on the other hand, can actually be both a risk and advantage. MCU’s researchers have definitely done their job well and study other products that involved alternate dimension/reality/timeline. In my point of view (as an otaku), when I watched these type of anime with alternate dimensions/reality/timeline, it does feel weird especially if the character meets her/her counterpart, like in Dual!! Parallel Trouble Adventure where both Mitsuki have actually met (I only remember parts of the story, so I won’t go deeper into this), the awkwardness is kind of hard to watch… So killing Pietro might’ve been the best decision, because keeping both characters and later meets up will not only cause awkwardness but the viewers might also find it weird. With no offense to ATJ but unlike his, Evan Peters’ QS have more cool scenes, his running in the kitchen is definitely a big wow, Age of Ultron didn’t showcase much any cool moves, we do see the slow motions around him and his afterimage, but the kitchen scene looks way more cooler, and personally for me, I find his break in Magneto scene (the glass shattering and escaping the guards) much more satisfying than anything...

Evan Peters could’ve also been given instructions by FOX of him possibly appearing/joining the MCU in the future because in an interview with the X-Men Apocalypse cast on MTV After Hours, Peter (Evan Peters) comment to Cyclops (Tye Sheridan) “Just because you wear shades, doesn’t make you cool.” In which Cyclops responded with “Just because your name is Quicksilver, doesn’t make you an Avenger.” And Peter responded back with “You know, legally I’m not able to respond to that.” Also during Dark Phoenix interviews, Evan Peters was nervous yet silently freaking out, almost like Tom Holland trying to  avoid telling anything. In the interview with New Trailer Buzz, Evan Peters was ask  to say the first thing that come to his mind like Wolverine = claws, Marvel = X-Men, Magneto = metal, Charles Xavier = wheelchair, then when as SCARLET WITCH – he pause and almost choke and said nervously “okay” and started to laugh, then was asked about cross-over and he responded with sweet, although compared to his previous answers where it only took less than 1sec to respond, the word SCARLET WITCH and CROSS-OVER definitely gave him a scare as he was probably be in talks but is of course not allowed to disclose.

If we think about it back then, we can probably just dismissed it as part of the restrictions between Disney and FOX, but Kevin Feige did mention before that everything is plan even up to 5 years, and X-Men to be in talks for the future multiverse is not impossible and of course they will not disclose that information (to actors let alone media), and what are the odds of killing Pietro in MCU and not introducing Wanda in X-Men.

 I will wait for Episode 8 for the next WandaVision update ‘cause it really hard to assume.

[julessworldd]

Cheerleader and the future rockstar

Warnings: cussing, there’s a jock being an ass talking about the Oc in a gross, sexual way. arguing a little.

A/N: I don’t know much about Izzy’s family life, like his mom and brothers name. I think the one I had is right for his younger brother. And what year he finished high school, bare with me. Oc’s home life is sorta sucky even though she’s the rich cheerleader. she’s not snobby at all like the sterotype everyone has about cheerleaders. I will make a part 2!

@slashscowboyboots​ @roger-taylors-car​ @reigns420​ @awildkaitlynhasappeared​ @ginny-rose-sixx​ @izzysguitar​ since you liked the post last night about the upcoming fic :)

High school Au of Izzy.. Izzy falls for the cheer captain after, she offers her help on an essay in English. Here's the thing the cheerleader has loved Izzy since he grabbed her from falling down the stairs, sophomore year. 

Many know Jeff Isbelle or now Izzy for lots of things. He was the cool, stoner, who was planning on being a rockstar with his buddy, Bill Bailey. To some teachers he was hell on wheels, "The badboy" even though he barely talked. Jocks: Izzy was a creep, just another shadow, stupid stoner who needs to have better life plans. To Judith Channing Izzy was: her crush of two years, wanted to spark a conversation, but her red and black cheer uniform stopped her. Izzy hated the cheer squad because their "Loyalty" to the jocks, they were too happy for his liking at 10 am. Judith remembers when Tommy Lockeler tried to push her down the 3rd floor stairway after, she told him she thought he was nothing but a whore and didn't want to go on a date.  Felt like it was yesterday.. 

I stared at Tommy as he was putting his claim about him being a manwhore. His face got redder and redder by the minute.. 

"Keith told me you had such a tight pussy, Channing. Wanna let me test his theory out? Probably won't you're just a bitch", Tommy spat back.

"Fuck you, Tommy. You just proved my point right there! God, you're so stup-", I felt the air out of my chest leave as I tumbled backwards into someone's arms.  "Whatever", I heard Tommy stomp away. "Hey, hey. You okay?", I heard a soft but gravely voice ask. I opened my eyes to see a tallish boy with medium brown hair, hazel eyes holding me, face with concern. "Yeah, I'm okay. Thanks for not letting me bust my head open, uh?", I said, holding my hands flat on his chest, one hand clutching his Rolling Stones' shirt. "Jeff, but I go by Izzy. Aren't you that Channing girl?", Izzy said, pulling me up, pushing a hair out of my face. "Yeah, I'm Judith. Nice to know my hero's name, Izzy", I blushed.  Izzy grinned, "What made Tommy try to commit murder after lunch anyways?" I smoothed out my uniform skirt, "Just the guy I lost my-", I realized what I was about to say to the new guy. "My hat, this summer. Tommy wanted to- '', I said, but Izzy nodded and seemed to understand what my 'hat' actually was. 

"Well, Keith needed to keep his mouth shut. Tommy is just an asshole, he's a jock they're all the same'', Izzy grumpled. "Yeah, you're right", I said. "Judith! We're gonna be late to practice, come on!", Erin yelled down the hall. "Thanks again, I appreciate it a lot. See ya around, Izzy", I smiled. "No problem. Have a good practice, Jude", Izzy said, reaching into his jacket pocket for his Malobros.  I watched Izzy smirk and skip down each stair, his cute ass bouncing as he went down. "Judith!", Erin yelled again, taking me away from my hero. 

Crazy how that's been two years ago, Izzy doesn't recognize me or chose to at least. After that day, I had a big secret crush on the Johnny Thunders of Lafayette. No guy gets me like Izzy does, Izzy barely knows me but he has such a big affect on me.  I walked into Mr. Allan's senior english class, there was a seat by the window, behind this dark headed boy. I sat down behind him, judging if I liked this seat. It was close enough to board, not in the very very front, nice view outside. "Oh Mike?", the kid turned around. "Oh, you're not Mike. Hi", I looked up and it was Jeff Isbelle. "No, sorry. Is this seat taken?", I asked as my heartrate rose. "No, he came in for a minute, guess he left before I noticed", Izzy said. "Okay class, let's get started!", Mr. Allan clasped his hands together. Allan was going over what we would be doing in the class before we graduated in June. Same bullshit honestly. Read Shakeperse, write essays, read other dead guys' writings. 

Two weeks later, Izzy was still seated in front of me. Making 3rd period class time hell, if you call getting to see his beautiful self plop down everyday. "Alright guys, we finished McBeth and now I'm wanting you to write about how you took the play. I'm asking if you liked the ending, if not write how you would have ended instead. You can use the books, notes we took, even chapter tests I gave back. Due in two weeks", Mr. Allan stated before sitting back at his desk.  It was getting close to 4th period, meaning I could leave for the day, no cheer practice today too. 

"Hey Judith?", Izzy asked. "Yeah, what's up?", I asked from writing my draft. "Did you keep anything from this unit? I lost my binder", Izzy asked. "Yeah, what do you want?", I smiled. "Notes, I guess. I'm not sure how I wanna write this shitty essay", Izzy grinned. Damn what a beautiful smile. I handed him every note I took on the play, side notes, everything.  "Pretty smart for a cheerleader", Izzy said, grabbing my notes. "I liked the play really well, okay?", I fought back.  "If you say so, Judith", Izzy turned back around. 

I walked in the empty room, well thought it was empty. Izzy was sitting in a desk next to Mr.Allan's desk, "Oh sorry, sir", I started to turn around. "It's okay, Judith. Actually, I need you for something", Mr. Allan smiled. I stood next to Izzy. "With what?", I asked. "Mr. Isbelle said you gave him his notes, the first day I assigned this essay. I'm just wanting to make sure he's not lying is all", Mr. Allan said. "Jeff is telling you the truth, sir. He asked if I still had anything about the play and wanted my notes for a starting point, I guess. You said we could use anything we did for the play", I said, starting to get offended he would assume Izzy stole my notes and wanted to cheat. 

"Okay, Judith. Well, since you're here go sit down.", Mr. Allan breathed out, probably embarrassed and a 17 year old girl started him out. The ball rang making Mr.Allan go out for hall duty and talk to other teachers. 

"Hey", Izzy said, standing in front of me. "Hi, Jeff", I smiled. "Thanks for backing me up with dickhead. If I tell you this, will you promise me you won't go to practice and gossip about me?", Izzy said clenching his jaw, he looked really hot. "Of course, Jeff. What's up?", I asked, rubbing my thumb over my other hand. "Your notes helped some, but I'm still stuck. Maybe, it's writer's block I need you to help me crap out this dumb essay. Please?", Izzy said. "Yeah, no problem, Jeffrey. I have cheer until 4:45, but I can meet you somewhere after.", I smiled. Izzy stared at me for a second, "Sure, that's cool. I can give you my address, mom's working late." 

I pulled up to Izzy's place, couple cars were parked outside. I decided to stay on the side of his street and yard, leaving a place for his mother. Izzy stepped out for a smoke as I got out, pulling my brother's t-shirt down. "Boyfriend's shirt?", Izzy blew out smoke from his lips. "No, brother's actually", I said, slinging my bag on my shoulder more. "Oh. Didn't know you had siblings, you gave me the spoiled only kid vibe", Izzy deadpanned. "No, three older brothers and two younger sisters.", I said, feeling small and embarrassed by Izzy. "My brother is here, just ignore him the best you can. He brought home some hamburgers, if you're hungry.", Izzy said, holding the door open. It was an average, but comfortable home. Pictures of Izzy and his brothers, with their mother lined the walls and a few tables. Tv by the wall, couple couches, chairs. Something wet touch my shein, "Sadie! Down. I'm sorry I thought Kevin set her out.", Izzy started to pull Sadie away by her collar. "She's okay. I have two dogs myself, I'm in her house, she's just checking me out. Yeah, you're a pretty girl", I said, bending down to pet her. "What kind of dogs?", Izzy said, sitting on a chair next to Sadie. "German shepherd, named Phoenix, Golden Retriever, Jagger. Jagger is new she's my baby like Phoenix", I said giggling as Sadie licked my hand. "Cool", Izzy mumbled. "Do you wanna start your essay or let me see what you have? Might not have to even start over", I got up and stood by his chair. "Damn, you're really about that essay", Izzy got up, going where I amused his room. 

 "Boys, I'm home!", A woman's voice entered the room. "Oh hi, dear. I didn't know Jeff had a girl over.", She smiled. "Yeah, I'm helping him on an english essay. I'm Judith Channing", I got up and grinned. "Channing? Channing? Is your father's name Frank?", She asked. "Yes, that's him", I said. "I went to high school with him, how is he?" "That's nice, uh he's good. Still in Chicago", I said. "Chicago?" "Yeah, business trip", I said, hoping Izzy would dash in or holler for me to come to see his room. "Does Jeff know you're here?", She asked with a worried look. "Yeah, we met outside. He went to his room for his english stuff, guess he fell to China '', I giggled. "Tell me about it, damn boy takes forever. Jeff! Did you forget about Judith? Jeffery Dean!", His mother yelled. 

"Mom, hey. Though I told you to come with me, Judith?", Izzy said standing beside me. "How was work, Momma?", Izzy hugged her. "Hi, I'm Kevin and you are?", Kevin, Izzy's younger brother checked me out. "Kev, let her alone she's with me", Izzy said, standing beside me protectively. "You're way way out of my brother's leguage. Hey Mom", Kevin said. "Come on. Holler if you need anything", Izzy grabbed my hand, pulling me with him. He grabbed my bag on the way. "Crack your door, Jeff. I mean it!", his mother yelled.  Izzy's room was nice, typical posters, navy blue bed set, desk with papers and pens, small nightstand with a picture of his family, set of records by his recorder player. I slid my shoes off by his desk and sat on the chair. Izzy flopped on his bed, unamused. 

"So what did you think about McBeth?", I asked. Izzy shrugged. "Izzy, your perspective is gonna help write this essay. Tell me", I scoffed. "Just a crazy dude that got killed for letting his power go to his side over what a couple hags had to say. I liked when he got ambushed by the people", Izzy sighed, rubbing his hair around.  "Okay, see that helps. So,you liked the ending and we can stretch your thought out into five paragraphs", I said, looking for a pencil.  "Listen, Judith I'm not in the mood for a stupid play from a dead guy from 400 years ago. Mr.Allan can go fuck himself", Izzy scoffed out. "If you didn't want me over why did you ask for my help. I do have other shit to do, Izzy", I pinched the bridge of my nose. This fucker made me drive half way cross town for this essay. "Then why did accept to come over and help?", Izzy spat back. "I don't know? Probably because I always help people who need help. It's what nice people do anyways", I rolled my eyes.

“Why did I have to ask a smart cheer captain for help?”, Izzy groaned.

“Sorry to break your little stereotype of cheerleaders being dumb and only want to fuck. You know what, Iz? I’m leaving, who cares if you finish the damn essay. Not like you care if you fail or pass, L.A won’t care either way”, I stood by his bed at his nightstand. Izzy stared up at me with confusion. “How do you know wanna go to L.A? I’ve never had a conversation with you before english”, Izzy raised up. “Bill told me you were thinking about if after graduation, he asked my help for math. We have talked before, Izzy. Sophomore year, you caught me from falling to my death after Tommy Lockeler, pushed me down the stairs. You had a Rolling stones shirt on, your hair a little shorter, guess I landed in your arms on a good day.”, I said, with tears in my eyes. “That’s you? No wonder you look familiar besides being a cheerleader. I’m sorry for being a dick, you did come out of your way for me.”, Izzy stood up from his bed. “It’s fine, Izzy. Why don’t you just bullshit it? I’m not feeling too great”, I sighed, walking to his desk for my bag. “Wait. Please don’t leave, I really need your help. I really liked the book and I’m sorta stuck.”, Izzy grabbed my wrist. 

“Okay. If I see you slacking I’m out, Isbelle”, I said. “Sit”, Izzy said, pushing his office chair to me. “Thanks”, I smiled. Izzy pushed a hair out of my face, “Sorry, it was bothering me”  I blushed, before looking away from him. Izzy chuckled, “Something you hiding from me, Judith?” “Tell you what, if you finish the essay, I’ll tell you what I’m hiding, deal?”, I bit my lip. “Deal”, Izzy smirked. Izzy’s brain was flowing and his hand was scribbling on the paper like he didn’t need me over. “Anndd done”, Izzy said, throwing his pencil in the cup he had on his desk. “Let me read it first”, I grabbed the two pages. “You lied”, Izzy whined. I scanned his paper looking for details of the play, if he had the right grammar, punctuation. “Looks good, Izzy. I’m proud”, I laid the paper down. “Thanks, now tell me why you were blushing?”, Izzy laid his hand on my jean clad thigh. “Do I have to?”, I whined. “I did my part, so it’s your turn, Channing”, Izzy said, not breaking his poker face. “Okay, don’t get mad. I have had a crush on since you caught me that day, at times I’m happy Tommy attempted to murder me that day. You happy?”, I stood from his chair and paced besides his bed. “Judith”, Izzy said.

“Hey, Judith, calm down. I have to tell you something too”, Izzy said, grabbing my hand. “What?”, I asked, scared to death he was gonna kick me out. “I like-”, “Hey dinner is ready”, Kevin opened his door, looking down at our hands. “I better get home, mom’s probably worried.”, I lied, she didn’t give a damn about me and my whereabouts. “Okay, I’ll walk you out”, Izzy said. We reached my car, “Well,thanks for the help. Guess I needed to be forced to write”, Izzy said, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “No problem, I liked hanging out with you”, I smiled. Izzy nodded, “Be safe” “Sure thing. Night Izzy”, I said, unlocking my car door. Izzy stood until I turned at the stop sign from his house. I tried to skip school, to avoid the awkwardness between me and Izzy. He got really quiet after his brother barged in yesterday, at least he was nice enough to walk me to the car and waited for me to get on the main road again. 

I was headed to lunch but was really wanting to sneak out to my car and drive around for a while. Looking through the glass doors that lead to the front parking lot, I could hear my car whine for me to leave. “Fuck it”, I thought grasping the door and pushed it open. “Where do you think you’re going, missy?”, A deep male voice startled me. I turned around to see Izzy grinning. “Oh it’s just you. Come on, let’s ditch”, I smirked. Izzy nodded and opened the door. We ran down the stairs, to my car, laughing. “Why did you wanna skip? You have a good attendance record?”, Izzy asked, plopping into the passenger seat. “Just ready to leave, school was boring. I don’t have cheer practice today. You?”, I asked, starting the car. ‘Shattered’ The Rolling Stones played quietly. “Same reason as you, just fuck it. Didn’t take you as a Stones fan?”, Izzy smirked as I pulled out of the school parking lot and headed towards town. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me Izzy. My dog is named after Mick Jagger, remember?”, I smirked. Izzy nodded his head to the beat of the song, going through my cassette tape collection. 

We got out of my car and went to a pair of swings, Izzy groaned. “What’s the matter, afraid one of the stoners will catch you with the cheerleader?”, I smirked. “No, princess. Just haven’t swung since I was 9”, Izzy grumbled. “Suit yourself, Jeff”, I pushed my legs to swing. “You like cheerleading?”, Izzy asked. “It’s alright”, I said. Izzy lit a cigarette and watched me swing my legs back and forth. Izzy caught me as I slowed down, holding the chain, pulling me close to him. I looked in his hazel eyes, cigarette creeped on his breath. “After, I killed Kevin for bargin in on us last night. I got to thinking, we’re getting closer to graduation. I’m bailing this hoosier state, you’re probably going on to join a sorority at Purdue. I wanna tell you something”, Izzy said, breath fanning my neck. “What is it?”, I whispered. “I like you and wanna know if you’ll be my girl?”, Izzy nipped my bottom earlobe.  I pulled him into a kiss, holding his shoulders, “Thought you would never ask, Jeff” Izzy smiled down at me. “And I’m not going to college, Iz. I don’t have to pay to have friends, just so you know. Thinking about going to New York actually”, I whispered. “Wanna join me out west? Don’t go to New York, just cold as Indiana, baby”, Izzy held my waist. “I can do that”, I grinned, kissing his cheek. 

[waitimcomingtoo]

idk if you are taking requests or will be comfortable with this one but can we get a tom blurb? your a new actress and you have a scene where you have to cliff dive and you accidentally drown because equipment got stock on you and tom has to do cpr?

decided to combine!

Old Friend 2

First Part

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Warnings: drowning

Masterlist

Tom left set with one thought that day:

He needed your lips on his again.

He felt weird with his sudden less than platonic feelings for you. You’d been his best friend all his life and now he was wishing you were more.

He ended up getting his wish, but not in the way he imagined. 

“Wait up!” A mans voice sounded behind you as you made your way back to set.

You turned around and almost dropped the mountains of scripts you held in your hands. The man helped steady you until you got back on your feet.

“You’re Y/n, right?” He asked.

“Yes, I am. Have we met?” You asked him.

“No. I’m the stunts coordinator.” The man explained. “Kevin needs you to fill in for an extra again.”

“You said you’re a stunt coordinator? I don’t think I’m qualified to do any stunts.” You told him as you struggled to keep the scripts together.

“That’s why Kevin wanted me to get you. You don’t need any qualifications. We just need you to jump into some water.” The man said simply.

“Jump from how high?” You asked skeptically.

“Just a few feet.” He promised. “The cameras will be underwater and that’s what we need to capture. We’re gonna film the actress jumping off a platform that looks like a cliff but we need footage of you under the water. Our actress is being a little difficult about getting her hair wet today.”

“Is it safe?” You implored.

“Very safe. We’ll attach an air tank to you and you’ll be just fine.” The man smiled. You shrugged before feeling the brisk wind chilling you through your sweater.

“I don’t know about the water. It’s freezing out.” You pointed out.

“You’re gonna have a weighted wet suit on under your costume. It’ll keep you warm.” The man assured you. “Will you do it?”

“Sure.” You nodded. It was another chance to be in a marvel movie. “Why not?”

An hour later, you were getting an air tank hooked on to your back as someone zipped your costume over your wetsuit. The suit was heavy and you already felt like lying down. Tom had to film his own scene and couldn’t be there to watch you, but he gave you the biggest hug when you told him and wished you luck.

“Ready?” Kevin asked you and you gave a thumbs up.

“Action!” He called, and you jumped into the water. You twisted your body as you were told as you sank to the bottom. The underwater camera touched your foot unexpectedly, causing you to jolt. Your back hit a rock and the air tank began to make a weird sound. You opened your eyes and could just barely make out the air tank through the murky water. You reached for it in a panic as your back hit the bottom, the air tank on top of you.

Your air tank sat on your chest and held you in place. You tried to maneuver it off of you, but it was too heavy to push. The added pressure from the weighted wet suit kept you pinned to the ground with no way of getting up. You struggled, but it exhausted you. You began to feel sleepy and decided to close your while you waited for the crew to pull you up. Slowly, you closed your eyes and let yourself drift off.

Elsewhere on set, Tom had finished his scene and was constantly checking his phone for an update from you. He sat down by two interns and sent you another text.

“Yeah, I heard it was pretty bad. Like, she came up all blue and stuff.” One of the interns said, catching Tom’s ear.

“Do you think they’ll halt production?” The other one asked.

“Probably not. She wasn’t a main actress or anything. Just some extra.” The first answered.

“What are you guys talking about?” Tom snapped, causing the interns to jump.

“You didn’t hear? An extra totally drowned over on lot B.” One said and the other lightly hit his arm.

“Dude, have some respect. She could be dead.” He said.

“Drowned?” Toms mouth went dry. “You mean the girl shooting the cliff diving scene?”

“Yeah, that one. No one told you?” The intern asked.

“When did this happen?” Tom ignored him question as his palms began to sweat.

“Just now. I heard it on my headset. You didn’t know her, did you?” The kinder intern asked.

“Did you say she was blue?” Tom feared.

“That’s what I heard.” They nodded.

“Move.” Tom pushed past the interns and ran to lot B. He saw a crowd of people gathered around something and began to push his way through. Through all the shouting and people, Tom found you lying on the floor with purple lips and a pale face. He immediately got down on his knees and held two fingers to your neck until he felt your pulse; weak, but there.

“What happened?” He demanded and looked around for someone to blame.

“We don’t know. She never came up for air. We think the equipment got stuck on her.” The stunt coordinator said sheepishly. He could tell Tom was furious and he had been the one who got you to do the scene.

“How long was she under?” Tom asked as he took off his jacket and wrapped you in it.

“Three, maybe four minutes? It wasn’t long. I don’t know why she isn’t waking up.” Someone else answered.

“What’s being done to help her?” Tom said angrily. “She’s purple for Christ’s sake.”

“Alec did chest compressions and Jenna called the medic. They said they’d be here in five.” The stunt coordinator offered as he bent down next to you.

“I don’t have five minutes.” Tom shook his head and put a hand on your chest.

“Tom-“ the coordinators moved his hand.

“Move.” Tom ordered. He put the heel of his hand on the center of your rib cage and laced his hands together. He began doing chest compressions for thirty seconds. He felt your pulse again but felt no improvement.

“You should really wait for the medic.” The coordinator said weakly. Tom looked at him with a burning anger.

“And you should really make sure your extras don’t drown in your watch.” Tom snapped before turning his attention back to you.

“Next time I kiss you, you better be awake.” Tom muttered before putting his mouth over yours. He blew into it until he felt your chest rise and began doing compressions again.

“Come on, Y/n. Wake up. Show me your eyes.” Tom begged while he did another 30 seconds of compressions.

“Please, darling. Let me see your eyes.” He asked again and he began to press harder.

Finally, a cough and a sputter caused you to open your eyes. They connected with Toms and a sleepy smile dawned on your face.

“Good morning.” You said softly as relief flooded into Toms eyes. He let out a grateful laugh.

“You’re okay.” He said as he pulled you into a tight hug. The crowd began to back away to give you space.

“I thought you were only a hero in the movies?” You giggled into his ear, making him hug you tighter.

“Well my damsel was in distress.” Tom replied. He held you close to him as he walked you back to the trailer, his hand never leaving your back. 

He was silent on the e way there, so you stayed silent as well. It wasn't until you were inside that he diced to speak. 

“Hey, can we talk?” Tom asked in a strange voice when you got back to his trailer.

“Sure, what about?” You asked. Tom stood there awkwardly as he searched for the right words. He stuttered for a moment and tripped over his words until he finally spit it out.

“You drowned.” He said as if it were the strangest thing in the world.

“I know. I better win an Oscar for this movie.” You laughed lightly, stopping when Tom didn’t laugh as well.

“It’s not funny.” He stated.

“I’m not joking. Playing ‘Girl Number 2’ has proven to be a real challenge and I deserve some recognition for it.” You said playfully as you cleaned up Toms trailer the same way you used to clean up his room so his mom would allow him to stay out a little later.

“You could’ve died, Y/n.” Tom said gravely.

“But I didn’t.” You quipped. “No harm, no foul right?”

“How was there no harm? When I got to you, you weren’t breathing. Your face was purple and your-“ Tom stopped yelling when he saw you back away from him in fear. “-your heart was barely beating.”

“Hey, Tommy.” You brought out his childhood nickname and rested your hands on his face, making him look at you. “It’s okay. It’s beating now. Here, feel.” You rested his hand over your heartbeat and let him feel it.

“I was really worried. Like, really really worried. I’ve known you all my life. I thought, for a minute there, we were gonna be pulled apart again right as we were brought back together. Right as I started to…” he trailed off. “It doesn’t matter. I just kept thinking of the day when you told me you were moving and how hard we both cried. I remember telling my mom I’d never see my best friend again. I got that same feeling when I saw you lying there, like I was loosing my best friend and I couldn’t do anything to stop it. I was really, really worried.” His eyes got glassy with tears and you decided humor would cheer him up.

“Hey, at least you didn’t wet your pants ag-“ Tom grabbed your face and kissed you firmly before you could finish your sentence.

“Woah.” You smiled shyly.

“At least you were breathing this time.” Tom said mostly to himself.

“Am I supposed to know what the means?” You raised an eyebrow, still in his embrace.

“It doesn’t matter.” Tom shook his head head with a happy smile. “I’m just happy you’re okay, old friend.”

“We’re not friends anymore, are we?” You asked coyly.

Tom smiled warmly and rested his hands on your waist.

“I guess we’re a little more.” He grinned.

Tag List 🏷

@maybemona @sunrise-shawn @meghan-8520xx @writing-for-hours-on-end @lavender-writer @captainmandeestudent17 @whatareyouhidingpeter @takenbyheartstrings @ultrunning @imyourliquor-youremypoison @theolwebshooter @autumnlyholland @andreasworlsboring101 @guksmyfav @waiting-to-be-myself @letsloveimagines @ho-ho-holland @peterparkoure @a-villain-vying-for-attention @m19friend @justcallmehitgirl @iamanerdot @averyfosterthoughts @jackiehollanderr @tiny-friggin-human @celestial-skylines

[imikhailo-archive]

thoughts on 11.01

i already watched like +10time but didint comment lol

i really dont care about frank anymore, but i give him credit for creativity in the stories just to get attention

cops ugh. i think carl wants to make a difference with this job. he is not the child who wants to kill animals, melt or explode things. i believe he really wants to make a difference. BUT if he messes with mickey is another story, fuck carl

man i love kevin

moning mr milkovich/morning mr. gallagher ✨✨

I VOTE FOR GALLAGHER-MILKOVICH

is a powerful last name fight me

im not a fan of stud/lover but is way better than 'my asshole is on fire’ whoever wrote this I would fire him

OKAY BUT WHO GOES FIVE ROUNDS AND LOOK THIS GOOD IN THE MORNING???

ian really loves to use both hands and hold his husband

I can't believe that they cut mickey scenes in the last season. when they will learn?

mickey just burnt the toast with his hands. WTF??

eleven years and still can't read your husband face, please ian

SAAAAANNDDYYY <3

franny is cute

I believe in liam and sandy friendship supremacy

debbie's nose out of the mask is making me uncomfortable

IOUs? *water bubbling* is just me listening this, or mickey farted in the water bc he was nervous?

i'm not married. so i don't have to share money with anyone (also i have no money)

but im with ian on this one. let's take our money and talk about how we need to spend and what we want to spend. not ask for permission. let's talk and resolve this together.

also in the trailer ‘we need money. don’t you worry, i got us covered’ i don't think mickey is spending their money on whatever. he must be investing in their future. right?

you guys really think mickey 'you gotta plan shit" milkovich is not thinking for the future.

ian i love you, but let your husband take an ice bath in peace man

FREDDIE <3

i want to train with kev

BITCOIN - never understood, never will. thanks for coming to my TED Talk

kevin is so proud of his girls <3

I'm not defending lip, what he did with the cup was disgusting. but AT LEAST, he changed the lid

MICKEY WHERE ARE YOU? i miss you :(

at least lip and tami made a cute baby

YOU'RE SEXY SANDY marry me

squid pro what? sjlajsklajls

lady, stop moving your mask please

you didn't take off your mask to talk to frank, smart

hello HOT SANDY

‘sandy is the actual hot lesbian convict’ someone comment this in a post and i agree

how's business downstairs tommy? huh?

is ketmit the top??

MICKEY, how are you? how is your day going? did you eat today? i missed you

'we should've talked about what we expected from each other before we got married, but we didn't, so now we have to.' HAVE YOU LEARN NOTHING FROM PRISON GAY 101???

YOU HAVE TO TALK

'I love you more than anything' 'I rolled on the cartel to come back to you' AND THEY STILL HAVE DOUBTS

okay i can't with these two morons

they made mickey sound stupid in this episode

mickey: 'now i have to write a word i just learn 5 secs ago' great

but the scene is funny

‘I spelled monogamy wrong’

*on the paper* mOoNOjEmiE

mickey definitely showed the paper with monogamy misspelled, and then ian traced the tattoo in his chest bc is their inside joke now

okay frank gives beautiful speeches

YEESSSSS HOT HOT HOT SANDY ma’am leave debbie and run away with me

BUT NOT COOL roleplay with child sexual abuse

[propertyofnikkisthighs]

She’s My Collar pt. 3

Trigger warning: Mentions of domestic abuse

“It’s been 3 days Riv. You’re gonna have to talk to me about what the fuck happened the other day.” Tommy says standing on my balcony smoking a cigarette.

How do I even begin to explain myself though? I swipe his pack of cigarettes off the railing and light one taking a drag. Tommy raises an eyebrow at my actions, but otherwise is non reactive to the nasty habit I’ve picked up and quit for what felt like a million times.

“I’ve known Kevin most of my life.” I start, my voice already beginning to shake. “He is a few years older than me and worked on my grandparent’s farm and I was head over heels for him. Like I used to follow him around as he cleaned the barns level in love because he was always so kind and sweet to me.”

Tommy just nods his head along and I continue.

“We got married right after I graduated high school and that was when he stopped being so sweet. He found he preferred cuddling a bottle of vodka at night a lot more than he liked cuddling up with me. Then, instead of hitting the bottles, he hit me.”

Tommy’s hand curls into a fist at his side and he blows hard out of his nose. “Go on” he says and I can tell he’s working on keeping his cool.

“When I found out I was pregnant the beatings stopped for a little bit. He, um, seemed really happy for a while and I really thought this was what we needed to be happy again. Boy was I wrong.” I hadn’t even realized tears were streaming down my face until I felt them hitting my trembling hands in my lap.

“He came home one night drunker than I had ever seen him and meaner than he had any right to be and just let loose on me. A neighbor heard me screaming thank god and called the cops or I might have died that night along with our baby. We come from a pretty small town so there wasn’t much help for me to leave him, most people thought it wasn’t their business. About a month later I took every last dime I had, all the clothes I could carry, and left my ring and the life I had under ‘Rebecca’ there and came to L.A.. That was about a year ago.”

I looked down to see Tommy had silently slipped his hands into mine as I was recounting the story that I had hoped to never have to explain to anybody. He rubbed his thumb against the back of my hand and took a deep breath.

“I promise you Riv, I will kill him if he so much as looks at you again.” I’m soon crushed against Tommy’s chest in a tight hug and I would be lying if I said it wasn’t the safest I had ever felt in the last year. Hell, the last few years.

“Thank you Tommy, but I don’t want you boys to get caught in the crossfire.”

“What else will you do then?” He asks quietly.

“Probably pack up and move elsewhere. Somewhere he can’t find me.”

“No.” Tommy says standing straight up. “No you can’t leave Riv we just started being friends.” He paces back and forth on the small balcony while lighting another cigarette.

“You guys are on your way to doing big shit T-Bone. I can’t get in the way of that.”

“That’s even more of a reason to let the guys and I protect you?” He says as if it’s obvious. “Besides, you’re our photographer. Who else is going to capture all the nudity on camera?”

“You know for a second there you weren’t a gross pig.” I try to not mirror Tommy’s face splitting grin, but I’m not that strong.

“Atta girl.” He bounces up and walks in my house as if he lives there and calls behind him “Come on let’s go to the diner for pancakes. My treat.” I didn’t question how he earned the money to pay this time. I knew it was rarely legal.

I double over laughing in the booth for nearly the tenth time at another story of the stupid shit Tommy has done. We’re the same age, but I can’t help but feel inferior in the life I’ve lived. Besides packing up and moving out of town to come to L.A. on a whim, I haven’t done anything exciting. Tommy has had enough experiences for two lives.

“So anyway Nikki comes up with the genius idea to stick our dicks in breakfast burritos to cover up any scent that we had just fucked these other chicks. Cause like our girlfriends couldn’t know right?” He pauses to sip his Coke and pours the rest of his Jack shooter into my coffee.

“Tommy Lee!” I scold in a hushed whisper.

“Let me finish my story. So anyway me, Sixx, and Vinnie are basically fucking these burritos in the back of my van at the ass crack of dawn to all go home to our girlfriends because Vince wanted to fuck a bride to be at her bachelorette party.” Tommy stuffs more pancakes into his shit eating grin.

“Tommy you guys are insane. How the hell am I friends with you lunatics? Mick is the least insane one and he’s hardly around.” I laugh sipping my spiked coffee wincing only a tiny bit at the burn of the whiskey.

“You just haven’t known Mick long enough. He gets crazy too.” He wags his eyebrows at me suggestively “And you get to capture those moments on film”

“Oh lucky me.” I feign excitement and he tosses a sugar packet hitting me in the face. The walk back to the apartment from the diner is filled with just as many laughs as our meal was and my cheeks are starting to hurt from smiling. Tommy has one arm slung around my shoulder while his other swings at his side besides when he takes a puff of his cigarette. Tommy is everything my parents would’ve hated to see me hanging around with, let alone being as close with him as we are now. He had long dark hair, wore make up, and the only real work ethic he had was put into his drumming (that’s not to say he didn’t have work ethic they just wouldn’t have seen it that way).

“Ya wanna know something Riv?” Tommy asks looking everywhere that isn’t at me.

“I wanna know everything at all times.” I joke and he hip checks me lightly. A grin spreads across his face and I wonder if his cheeks hurt like mine from smiling so much.

“You have huge eyes.” He says finally.

I stop in my tracks and stare at him mouth agape.

“Tommy Lee are you making fun of me?!” I shriek and he’s double over laughing at my expression.

“I’m kidding! Well kinda.” I shove at him lightly and begin to walk away, but his hand in mine stops me from leaving him to laugh on his own and we resume walking together to the apartment this time hand in hand.

“What I was actually gonna say was-” Tommy’s grip on my hand tightens and a scary look casts over his features.

I follow his line of sight to see Kevin speaking to the landlord that lived on the floor level. It looked like he hadn’t noticed us yet and I wanted to keep things that way. I tug Tommy’s hand trying to pull him up the stairs to our floor out of his line of sight.

“Oh am I interrupting date night?” I hear behind me. Busted.

“Kevin. Not now.” I hiss not wanting to draw any attention to us.

“I’m sorry did I your HUSBAND interrupt your date with your new fuck buddy?” Kevin raises his voice.

“I’m only going to tell you once dude, don’t fucking talk to her like that.” Tommy growls out between grit teeth.

“Hey nobody tells me how to talk to my fucking wife.” Kevin steps closer. Tommy doesn’t step back being that it’s hard to be intimidated by a man at least six inches shorter than you. “She left you bro. Get the fuck over it and move on.” Tommy had somehow maneuvered me behind him and positioned himself in front of me. Kevin clearly didn’t take kindly to that.

“Listen, dick head, I’m not leaving without my fucking wife. You can find someone new to fuck in a city like this. I guarantee she isn’t the only whore”

And that’s when I hear it, the sound of a fist connecting with a face and teeth clanking together. Tommy is on Kevin before I even have time to full process that a punch was thrown. Tommy had the element of surprise and uses that to his advantage to land a few good punches to Kevin’s face. Kevin’s foot connects with Tommy’s gut and gives him the opportunity to get up and land a few punches of his own.

“Guys please stop!” I’m shouting trying to get them off each other without getting hit. I know there’s nothing I can do physically so I do the only thing I can think of doing. And I scream for Nikki.

Nikki is pulling Tommy off of Kevin who looks worse for wear than I had ever seen him. Kevin’s lip is busted, he’s got a black eye forming, and there is blood coming from both a cut on the top of his nose and from his nose in general. Tommy has a small cut on his cheek, also what looks like a black eye coming, and is bleeding from somewhere inside his mouth because he spits blood on Kevin. Kevin charges at him again, but is knocked on his ass by Nikki kicking him square in the gut.

“Enough!” Nikki screams and a small part of me is scared by the sound.

I don’t bother to make sure Kevin is okay before I follow the boys up to our floor. I race into my own apartment to grab some painkillers, a washcloth,  and a bag of frozen peas for Tommy. When I get into their apartment I see Tommy downing some whiskey from the bottle and he tries to smile at me and winces. I gently pluck the bottle from his hand and set it on the counter next to him. I run the washcloth under water and begin to clean the blood off his face. He hisses as I dab at the cut on his cheek and lip trying to be gentle so I don’t make the bleeding start again.

“Hey River, could you maybe not try to get my drummer killed?” Nikki jokes knocking back some of the whiskey. Tears well up in my eyes despite me knowing there’s no malice behind his words.

“I’m so sorry Tommy.” I sob tears cascading down my face.

“Hey, hey shhh” Tommy tries to console me by hugging me to him. “These things, they happen. Hang out with Sixx and I long enough and you’ll be bailing us out of jail in no time.”

“Fuck I’m surprised you haven’t already.” Nikki pipes up.

“This is all my fault if you wouldn’t have tried to stick up for me you wouldn’t have gotten hit.”

“I swung first.” He chuckles rubbing my back.

“Atta boy!” Nikki bellows and we all have a good laugh at that. “I don’t know about you guys, but I could sure use a fucking shot.” Tommy tosses back two painkillers and washes them down with a swig of whiskey offering the bottle to me.

“Fuck it.” I shrug and down two big gulps and pass the bottle to Nikki. He’s clapping me on the back while I hold the frozen peas to Tommy’s eye and pretend I can’t feel Tommy’s thumb rub tiny circles on my thigh where I’m standing between his legs. And I pretend the warmth I feel is from the alcohol and not because of the way he looks at me.

[little-werewolf-oven]

35 for harringrove?💜💜

(This was so much fun!  Warning for BullySteve)

#35 - “You heard me.  Take. It. Off”

May 8, 1981

The last month of school has always dragged.  Days are longer, classes are more pointless than usual, summer freedom so close you can taste it.  Steve and his crew are hanging in the front lawn of Hawkins Middle, jean jackets an effective barrier against the morning chill.  Tommy’s got an arm around Carol’s shoulders, eyes on Steve as he talks about when they should get to the theater for opening night of the new slasher flick.  Steve’s barely paying attention, eyes scanning the parking lot, day-dreaming about getting the hell out of this kids’ playground, about what high school is going to be like.  

He catches it out of the corner of his eye, a flash of blue walking towards the school.  Steve turns, dislodging where Vicki’s trying to lean up against him, and sees a kid he’s pretty sure he’s never seen before, messy blonde curls and slumped shoulders covered by an oversized denim jacket. 

“Hey!” The kid doesn’t stop, doesn’t even look up, though a couple bystanders snap their attention to Steve.  He marches forward, Tommy on his heels, and pushes at the kid’s shoulder before he can reach the steps.  He’s a good four inches shorter than Steve, a little chubby, probably just a sixth grader he’d never noticed before, but when he turns a glare at Steve he’s thrown by how startlingly blue and angry his eyes are. 

“Leave me alone.”

“Take off that jacket.” The kid looks down, then back at Steve.

“What?”  Steve pushes him again. He goes back easy.

“You heard me. Take. It. Off.”

“Fuck you.” 

“Listen kid,” Tommy starts, hand on Steve’s shoulder, “maybe you’re new or maybe you’re just dumb, but jean jackets are our thing.  And you’re not quite up to standard.  Capiche?”  The kid’s face gets dark, but his eyes dart between the small crew that’s amassed behind Steve.  Tommy, Kevin, Carol and Vicki, all sporting denim jackets, all looking like they’re ready to escalate the situation and still be home before dinner.  The kid slips his arms out from the jacket, balling it up under his arm.  

“Smart move.” Steve gets another mean look from the kid, but he keeps any angry words to himself as he hightails it up the steps and into the relative safety of the school.

“Who even was that?”  Carol asks, popping her gum as the first bell reverberates through the hallways. 

“No idea.”

September 14, 1982

Steve absently wonders if he’d looked this pathetic last year as he watches the new freshmen filter awkwardly out of the locker room.  He hopes not.  

He and another sophomore are made team captains, pulling their friends and best players first, then arguing over the rest until Mr. Hatfield blows his whistle and tells them to get moving or they’re all getting an F. 

“Harrington, you’re skins, let’s go.” A few of the boys groan, but Steve’s actually pretty excited about this.  He’d been working out more this past summer, swimming in the pool and lifting weights, even saw a few chest hairs the other day.  He pulls his shirt over his head, whipping it towards the benches, shouting “Let’s go, boys!” to the rest of his team as he does so.  The majority comply without question, knowing the drill. A few of the freshmen look around anxiously before following suit, but one staunchly refuses, arms folded across his chest, face twisted up in a determined glare.  There’s something familiar about him, but Steve shakes it away.  Probably just saw him around town, Hawkins is only so big. 

“Hey, come’on, we’re skins.”

“No.” Steve blinks, not used to being talked back to.  

“Well guess what, not your call.  Take it off.”

“Bite me.” 

“I said,” Steve advances, gets a grip on the shoulder of the kid’s shirt, “Take. It. Off.”  He punctuates it word with a tug, the fabric pulling up little by little, revealing a rounded belly, but, even more telling, a large blue and black bruise on his right side.  Steve lets go and takes a step back, the kid looking up at him with wide blue eyes, pulling his shirt down and scurrying back into the locker room.  No one notices him go, and Steve doesn’t rat him out.  

They still win the game. 

January 10, 1984

Christmas break had been long.  He’d spent half of it trying to get back into Nancy’s good graces, and the other half making sure he’d stayed there.  It’s almost a relief to come back to school, have something else to focus on for a minute.  Basketball is going to be starting up again, no chance of making state this year but they can still end their season strong. 

Or they could have, if Marcus Akerman hadn’t gone and broken his leg skiing over winter break.  Steve glares even as he’s signing the cast, knows it’s worse for the guy in it but still.  He was their best point guard, and with Mac and Johnson having to drop because of grades they’re running low on options.  

Coach pulls some players from the JV team, puts Steve in charge of getting them up to speed as he continues to work with the older boys.  Steve’s not sure if he should feel flattered or offended, but in the end decides it’s his duty as captain, plus arguing with the coach has never gotten him anywhere.  

He gathers his new troops an hour before practice, hoping that’ll be enough time to catch them up so he can still join in with the real practice at 6.  Passes them each the ball, having them say their name and position before passing it back.  

“Hargrove,” the last guy announces, “power forward.” He sends the ball back with more force than necessary, making Steve take a step back to catch it properly against his chest.  A smirk crosses the other boy’s face, but Steve’s eyes are drawn to the glint of metal at his ear. 

“Hargrove, take out that earring, man.  No metal on the court.” 

“You kidding me, man?  I’ve played games with this in.” 

“Not on my team you don’t.  Take it off.”  Hargrove’s eyes glint fiercely, and Steve remembers suddenly where he’d seen him before: first day of sophomore year, the kid with the bruise.  He’s taller now, leaner, hair brushing at his shoulders, but still has that mean gaze.  But he doesn’t put up a fuss this time, just spouts off a mimicking, “Yes siiiiiir” before unclasping it and jogging it over to the benches. 

Hargrove’s the best of the group by far. 

March 28, 1986

Steve stumbles up the stairs to his apartment, bag of takeout in one hand, mail in the other as he pushes open the door with his hip.  The door hasn’t latched right for the past month or so, and he knows he’s likely to get robbed one of these days, but there’s not much worth taking, so whatever. Plus it makes getting back in after a long day of working at the god forsaken Family Video with Keith so much easier. 

“You could just call the super and get that fixed.”  He jumps at the voice, nearly dropping the bag of Chinese, but readjusts in time for a quick save.  Billy appears from around the corner, body glistening from the shower, curls dripping on the floor as a towel rests dangerously low on his hips.  Steve’s stomach drops. 

“But then how would you get in?” He fakes cool as he turns to the counter and unpacks the food, but can’t keep his eyes from flicking back to the towel, which he swears is getting looser. 

“Pick the lock.  Or, you know, you could always just get a key made for me.”  Steve stops, turning so his whole body is facing Billy.

“You wanna move in with me?” Billy shrugs, and god bless it, somehow the towel stays on.

“Turn 18 next week.  No legal recourse Neil can take to keep me under his roof.”  He looks at Steve, blue eyes burning, like they always have, like they probably always will, “I don’t have to stay here, pretty boy, but I’m sure as hell not staying there any longer than I have to.”  

“Stay with me,” Steve breathes out, mind already racing with thoughts of Billy, last thing he sees every night, first thing he sees every morning, a presence, a comfort, someone around on those dark nights when the power goes out and he sits with a bat and a flashlight waiting for the end or dawn, whichever comes first. “I’ll make you a goddamn key tomorrow, just, yeah, stay with me.”  Billy gets this soft look in his face, a look Steve didn’t know was possible the first year or so he knew him.  A look that’s reserved almost exclusively for him. 

“Okay, you convinced me.  Now, we gonna eat or what?”  Steve’s eyes drop to the towel still stubbornly clinging to Billy’s hips.  

“What, like that?”

“You’re the one that’s overdressed here, c’mon, get that ugly ass vest off.”  

“What?”  

“You heard me.  Take,” he slips his fingers over the edge of the towel, “it,” pulls at the already sinfully loose knot, “off,” and drops the scrap of fabric to the ground.

It’s hours before they eat, but Steve always liked his wontons cold, anyway.

[elliesguitarstrings]

promises, promises || part one: what used to be

masterlist || series masterlist

tom holland x reader

summary: you're crying over someone you haven't seen in two years, tom is straight up depressed, your friends are trying to set you up, and sam is just trying his best to help

warnings: ANGST, language, mentions of sex, little bit of fluff, probably typos

A/N: PART ONE IS HERE!!!! i absolutely love this fic and i hope you guys love it as much as i do :)

p.s. this ended up being really long sooooo i decided to make it into a series instead lol if y'all haven't figured that out

wc: 5k

~~~~~~~~

"I got the part! Holy shit I actually got the part!" Tom throws his computer across the bed in disbelief, almost hitting you.

"Wait, like THE part? Like Spiderman?" you question excitedly.

"YES!!! Check the Marvel Instagram right now!" he crawls over to you as you whip out your phone and quickly search up the account. You scan the page to see a post captioned, "Click the link in our bio to see who the new Spider-Man is!" You quickly find the link and impatiently wait for the page to load. And then you see it, boldface print and giant letters across your phone.

The new Marvel Cinematic Universe Spider-Man will be played by: TOM HOLLAND

"HOLY SHIT TOM! You're fucking Spiderman!" you tackle him with a hug, squeezing him so tightly that he has to fight for breath. "I'm so proud of you, I knew you were gonna do big things." you smile brightly.

"We have to go tell everyone else, come on!" Tom pulls you off of him, dragging you out of his bedroom and down the stairs to give his family the big news.

The rest of the Hollands were already together in the family room, and they immediately took notice of yours and Tom's excitement as the two of you are bounding down the stairs.

Out of breath, Tom sprints to the center of the room. "Attention everyone, I have an extremely important announcement to make!" He pauses for dramatic effect, his family waiting in anticipation. "I'M GONNA BE SPIDERMAN!"

This causes an outburst of cheers and applause from his parents and brothers, each one of them getting up to hug Tom and congratulate him on this huge achievement.

Paddy pipes up, "How did you get the news? Did they call you or something?"

"Um, not exactly. They posted it on their Instagram and on the Marvel website as well, wanna see?" He turns to you, "Y/N, show them your phone!"

You pull out your phone and open the screen you were just looking at, showing the Hollands the Instagram post and article.

"No way, they're totally hacked." Harry remarks, earning disapproving looks from Nikki and Dom. "if you were really gonna be the next Spiderman, they would have called you."

Before Tom has the time to argue back, his phone rings, as if on cue. Tom pulls it out of his back pocket and nervously studies the number across the screen.

"Well, what are you waiting for div, answer it!" Sam chirps impatiently.

The rest of the room is silent while Tom listens intently to the person the other line. You can't make out what they are saying, but the eventual smile on Tom's face completely gives it away.

"Yes, thank you. Thank you so much for this opportunity," he holds while the other person talks again. "Yeah, I'll be in touch, definitely. Thank you again." Tom ends the call and lets out a sigh of relief. "That was fucking Kevin Feige! I got the part! I actually am gonna be the next Spiderman!"

You and the rest of his family cheered even louder than before, enveloping him in a giant group hug.

"I say we celebrate!" Nikki announces. "How about we go out for a nice dinner?"

Tom smiles, "If I'm honest mum, as nice as that would be, I'd rather just stay in and celebrate here tonight. I like your cooking better than any fancy restaurant anyways."

"Of course honey, I'll make your favorite. We can have a nice big family dinner, how does that sound?"

"Sounds perfect mum, thank you."

She dashes into the kitchen followed by Sam, the aspiring chef of the family, while Dom, Harry, and Paddy go to dress the table.

You take this as your cue to leave, seeing as you don't want to disrupt the rest of Tom's night with his family. "I guess I should get going then," you turn to Tom, hugging him once again. "Congratulations again, I'm so proud of you Tommy." you smile as you head to grab your things before you leave.

"Nonsense! You're staying for dinner too!" Tom stops you.

"Tom, I can't, you should spend this night celebrating with your family." you try to reason with him.

"But I want you here too!" he pouts.

"And you are family!" Nikki pipes in from the kitchen, earning nods of agreement from the rest of the family.

"See, everyone wants you here Y/N, please celebrate with us?" Tom cups your face.

"Are you sure? I really don't want to-"

Nikki cuts you off, piping in once again, "Y/N, I insist you stay for dinner with us. You've been a part of this family for so long, and you know that. So please stay and celebrate with us!" she smiles.

You giggle, "Well, I guess I can't say no to that." Tom smiles, giddily engulfing you in another hug.

After a long and delicious dinner, you and Tom now lay under the stars in the treehouse in his backyard. Dom had built it for you two when you were eight years old, and it's been your special place ever since then. Obviously, it has been upgraded and redecorated since then, now that you and Tom were both eighteen, but it still takes you back to the old days when you were just carefree little kids.

You cuddle into Tom's chest, looking up at the night sky through the small window in the roof of the treehouse. "I wish we could stay here forever," you whisper.

"Me too." Tom pulls you closer, kissing your forehead.

"Everything's gonna change you know. We're graduating in two weeks, and then you leave for America. I don't know what I'm gonna do without you." A small tear rolls down your cheek which doesn't go unnoticed by Tom.

He wipes the tear off your face with his thumb, cupping your chin to make you face him. "Hey, hey, look at me. Things might be changing, but that doesn't mean we have to. I'm only gonna be gone for a few months, and then I'll be back. I love you so much, and a few hundred miles is never going to change that. I will never let anything come between us, ever, okay?"

You smile softly, "You promise?"

"I promise darling. It's you and me forever. I'm never letting you go. Never in a million years." he kisses you lovingly, and you swear you could just live in this moment forever with him, and only him.

That was six years ago. And what Tom said was true, everything had changed. You just wish everything else he had said that night was true too.

Now, Tom is a world-famous actor, living a luxurious life out in Hollywood. You, however, have stayed in England, living only thirty minutes away from your childhood home with your newfound best friends Julia and Finn. You are no longer a part of Tom's life, and he is no longer a part of yours. But that doesn't mean you've forgotten about him.

How could you possibly forget about Tom? Your entire childhood was spent with him. From the ages of two to twenty-two, you were inseparable. To this day, you still remember when you first met, and you think about it often.

"I no wanna go! I stay home and watch princesses!" you cry, defiantly pulling away from your mother's firm grip as she tries to stuff you into shoes that are much too small for your rapidly growing feet.

"I know honey, but we have to go welcome the new neighbors who just moved in across the street. We made them brownies, remember?" she smiles.

You scrunch your face up, " No! I stay home!"

Your dad chimes in, kneeling down to your level. "Listen peanut. How about we make a deal. You come with us and say hello to the new neighbors, and then after we get home you can watch any princess movie you want and maybe even have some ice cream, how does that sound?"

You smile, "Ice cream with rainbow sprinkles?"

He rubs your head, "With rainbow sprinkles."

"Okay. I go then."

Your parents smile, and you hold their hands as you walk across the street to meet the neighbors. Your mom rings the doorbell, and the door opens to reveal a red-headed woman, smiling at you and your parents. Hiding behind her is a small, curly-headed brunette boy about the same height as you.

Your mom introduces herself, "Hi! My name is Y/M/N, this is my husband Y/D/N, and this is my daughter Y/N. We live right across the street, and we just wanted to welcome you into the neighborhood." She outstretches her arms, holding the brownies, "I made these for you as well, I hope you like them!"

The woman smiles, "Oh, wow, thank you so much, you are so sweet! Would you like to come in for a bit?"

"Of course, as long as you'll have us."

She ushers the three of you in and you stay close to your mom, still wary of entering a stranger's home.

As she closes the door behind her, she introduces herself as well, "Sorry, the house is a little messy, we’re still getting settled in. But I'm Nikki, my husband Dominic is unpacking in the kitchen, and this is Tom." She motions to the boy behind her, "Tom, say hello to the nice people!"

He timidly steps forward, waving at you and your parents. "Hello." he says quietly.

"Oh my, he is adorable!" your mom gushes. She walks over to him, "How old are you Tom?"

He holds up two fingers, "This many."

She smiles, "Two years old? Wow, you're so big! Guess what, you know who else is that many?" Tom shakes his head no. "My daughter Y/N!" She motions for you to come, and you shyly walk forward.

You wave at him, and that makes him smile. Nikki taps Tom on the shoulder, "Do you maybe want to show Y/N your toys upstairs?

He nods his head, smiling at you, "Wanna go play?" he asks.

You smile back, looking at your mom for permission. She nods her head and pushes you forward. "Okay, we go." you respond. He takes your hand and pulls you upstairs, seemingly coming out of his shell. You don't know what it is about this boy, but he makes you feel warm, like a hug. It's something your two-year-old brain can't quite comprehend, but suddenly you couldn't care less about watching princess movies or eating ice cream.

Sometimes you wish that day had never happened, that you had never met him. You wish your little two-year-old self had fought harder against your parents so that you wouldn’t have to endure the years of pain he would cause you later in life. But you can’t go back, and in part, you’re glad about that. He was your first friend, your first crush, and your first love. But he was also your first heartbreak, and that’s something you can never forget.

You're snapped out of your thoughts by a sharp knock on your bedroom door. "Hey, are you almost ready? We have to leave in ten or we'll be late!" you hear Julia's muffled voice from the other side of the door. Finn is hosting a gala tonight for his art studio, and being his best friends and roommates, you and Julia are basically required to go.

"Uh, yeah, I'm about done, I'll be out in a minute!" You haven't even started getting ready, but you don't have any more time. You quickly raid your closet and find a short v-neck black dress and matching heels. You wiggle into the dress as you make your way into the bathroom. You had planned on straightening your hair, but you have no time, so instead, you brush it back into a sleek low ponytail and spray it with a bit of hairspray. There's no time for the elaborate makeup look you had planned either, so you quickly throw on some concealer, blush, mascara, eyeliner, a bit of highlight, and you're set. As you walk to the door, you grab your purse and slip on your heels, making sure you have your phone and keys. Finn and Julia are already waiting in the car, both with disapproving looks.

"What the fuck took you so long? We were supposed to leave five minutes ago! You know I can't be late for this thing." Finn complains as you slip into the backseat.

"Sorry, I, uhm, don't feel well. A little nauseous." you lie. You don't feel like telling them that you were actually crying about someone you haven't seen or talked to in two and a half years like you do every other night.

"You're not pregnant are you?" Julia chuckles.

"Oh please, we all know that Y/N hasn't gotten any since he who must not be named." Finn replies for you.

"Thanks Finn, what a great friend." you joke sarcastically.

He's not wrong though. Since you and Tom broke up, you haven’t slept with a single person. You’ve been on a few dates and kissed a few guys, but nothing past that. The closest you got was about a month after Tom broke it off with you. You were looking for someone to take your mind off of him, so you found a random guy named David at a pub and took him back to your place. But as soon as he took off his shirt, you saw a birthmark on his back that looked eerily similar to Tom’s, and you promptly broke down crying.

No matter what you do, you just can’t seem to get him off your mind.

"Alright bitches, we're here." Finn sighs. "Help me bring my stuff in, we don't have much time thanks to someone who took ages to get ready."

You give a halfhearted apology as you grab Finn's paintings from the back of his car. Julia stops you before you follow Finn into the venue, "Babe, are you sure you're doing alright?"

You smile lightly, "Yeah, I'm fine. I'll be fine."

"Okay, if you say so. And sorry about Finn mentioning... him. It's been two years, he should know better."

"Oh, no. No, don't worry about that. It's okay. I don't care." you lie.

She gives you an encouraging nudge on the shoulder, "Hey, who knows, maybe you'll find a hottie here tonight and finally get back out there! What do you think, huh?"

"Yeah, that would be great, actually. Maybe Finn can introduce me to his friend James, I know he's pretty hot." you say just to get her off your back. You know for a fact that you won't be going home with anyone tonight, but you want to ease her conscience, so you continue to lie.

"That's the spirit! Good luck hun, love you."

"Thanks Jules, love you too." you smile.

Halfway through the gala, you already want to go home. Finn is over at the bar flirting with some guy, probably trying to get him to buy his artwork. Meanwhile, Julia has disappeared into the bathroom with her boyfriend Ollie, who she invited about thirty minutes into the event because she "got bored."

You look at your phone and realize it's already midnight, and you know the event won't be ending anytime soon. You slowly make your way over to Finn through the sea of people and tap him on the shoulder, drawing his attention away from whatever guy he's flirting with.

"Hey Y/N, how's it going with James?" he asks excitedly.

"Oh, um, it didn't work out, thanks for introducing me though. I just wanted to come tell you that I'm still not feeling well, so I think I'm gonna head home, sorry."

"Oh, okay, no problem. You're probably gonna be alone tonight though, just a heads up. Jules is going back to Ollie's for the night, and" he starts to whisper, "I think I might be going home with this hunk."

You laugh, "Okay, thanks Finn, see you tomorrow then."

"Bye babe. Do you have a ride?" he questions.

"Uh, no, I'm just gonna Uber home, it's no problem."

Finn gasps, "Not this late at night you're not! Let me drive you, hottie with a body over here can wait."

"No, no, don't let me ruin your night. I'll just call Sam then."

His eyes widen, "Like... his brother Sam?"

"Yeah, we're friends still, it's not a big deal. Trust me."

"Okay, fine. But text me when you get home, okay?"

"Okay, love you Finn, see you later." you give him a quick hug and walk outside to call Sam.

You aren't lying, you and Sam are still good friends. Back when you and Tom were together, Sam was the brother that you were closest to, and you felt that it would be unfair to cut ties with the rest of the Hollands just because Tom was a dick to you seeing as they were as much of a family to you as your own parents were, maybe even more. He was attending culinary school in the area anyway, so you decide he’s the best person to call.

As expected, he's happy to drive you home, and about ten minutes later he arrives at the venue where you are still standing outside.

"Hey Sam, I'm sorry for calling this late, but thank you so much for picking me up." you smile as you slide into the passenger seat.

"It's no problem, I wasn't going to sleep anytime soon. How've you been?"

"Fine, I guess. How about you?"

"C'mon, I know that look. Something's up with you." he pries.

"I told you on the phone, I'm just not feeling well." you lie, hoping he doesn't catch on.

"It's Tom isn't it?"

"How the fuck do you always know?"

He chuckles. "He is my brother, remember? And you're basically my sister too. I've known you both for literally my entire life, so trust me, I know when it's about him."

You sign in defeat, "I don't know why I can't get over him Sam. It's been nearly three years since we broke up, and I haven't seen him since. My roommates think I'm overreacting, and honestly, I'm starting to agree with them. I should be moved on by now, but I just can't stop thinking about him."

"Hey, hey, don't listen to them, you aren't overreacting. You and Tom were literally attached at the hip for twenty two years, and you weren't even dating for most of them. It's completely normal for you to feel like this, trust me. And I know it doesn't help much for me to say this because I've said it a million times before, but Tom's a complete dick for what he did to you. He's my brother, and I love him, but he's a dick."

"Thanks Sam. I just wish I knew why, y'know? Why, after twenty-two fucking years, he just completely cut me out of his life." you feel your eyes brimming with tears.

"I wish I could have an answer for you Y/N, I really do. But I haven't got a clue. Hell, I honestly don't even know if Tom knows why he did it."

You sigh, "Well, he must have had a reason. Plus, he seems to be doing great in Hollywood. He seems perfectly happy without me."

"You've been stalking him on Instagram, haven't you?" Sam chuckles.

You laugh, "Shut up." That's the great thing about Sam. He can always lighten up a situation, no matter how serious or how sad. Tom did the same thing, that was one of the things you liked most about him.

You and Sam sit in silence for a few minutes, until he finally breaks it. "He's not, you know."

"Huh?" you question, confused.

"He's not happy. You said he seems happy without you, but he's not. He's doing terribly, and it's not just from stress or his work. He won't admit it, but he misses you." he pauses, "I know I shouldn't be telling you this, but he asked about you the other day. About how you were doing and shit like that. I think he would take it back if he could."

You want so badly to believe him, belief that Tom actually still cares about you after all this time. But false hope is the last thing you need right now.

"Well, he can't, can he?" you say sharply, tears still threatening to flow out.

You and Sam sit in silence for the last five minutes of the ride back to your apartment. As he slows the car to a stop, Sam looks over at you sympathetically, "Look, I'm sorry if what I said made things worse. I just wanted you to know that your feelings aren't... one-sided I guess."

You know better than to yell at Sam, he was just trying to make you feel better, so instead of spitting out the sarcastic remark that was on your tongue, you manage out a half-hearted, "It's okay, thanks Sam." and shut the car door.

As soon as the door of your apartment closes behind you, all of the emotions come crashing down on you. A mixture of sadness, anger, guilt, and regret crushed your heart, smashing it into a million little pieces. It feels like two and a half years ago, when he first broke up with you, all over again. Everything was fine until Sam brought him up again, and the memories just all flooded back in. You fall to the floor, clutching your chest in pain, wishing someone was here for you. Wishing he was here for you. At the moment, it feels like you have no one. In reality, you do; you have an entire support system of people who love you so much and would do anything to protect you. But you only want him. You need him. He is the only person you have ever wanted, ever needed, and he's gone.

You want to hate him, you really do. He's caused you more pain in the past two and a half years than anyone or anything has ever caused you in your entire life. But you can't. You can never, and will never, hate him. Which makes you hate yourself.

After what feels like hours of crying, you finally calm down. There's no one at home to talk to and it's too late to call anyone at this point, so you flip on the tv. There's nothing good on Netflix or Hulu that you haven't seen yet, so you scroll through the other apps. You remember that you just got a free Apple TV subscription with your new phone, so you check to see what's on there.

And there it is. Cherry.

His face right on the screen in front of you, lighting your dark bedroom red. You know it's a bad idea and you know you'll regret it, but something draws you to watch it. You need him right now, and this is about the closest you're going to get.

It's fine at first. It's actually nice to see his face again after so long. He looks basically the same as the last time you saw him, just a little more mature. You feel good supporting him, even if he doesn't know it.

But then it's not fine. His character had just gotten into a fight with his girlfriend, so she comes to visit him in his apartment. They talk, and eventually he reveals that he joined the army and has to go away for two years.

"It's just a couple years. Just a couple years and a lifetime together." he whispers.

Then it all hits you, and you break down crying once again. You can't help but think back to that night in the treehouse, and how the conversation is so eerily similar. You wonder if Tom was thinking about it too, while he was filming the scene. Obviously, the circumstances were different, but it still makes you wonder.

You quickly shut the TV off, unable to bear it anymore. With nothing else to do, you try to sleep, but your thoughts keep you up. And as much as you try to fight it, your mind drifts back to the day you so badly want to forget. The day that it all ended.

"Hey, Tommy, what's up? I'm excited to see you tonight!" you pick up the phone. Tom is supposed to come back to London after filming his first solo Spiderman movie, and you could not be more excited to see him. It's been almost a full year since he left for America, and you miss him so much.

"Yea, uhm, about that. Plans have, er, changed a bit." you can hear the solemn tone in his voice.

"Oh no, what happened? Did your flight get delayed or something? I know there's some rough weather in Atlanta, but I didn't realize it was that bad."

"No, no, it's not that. I don't really know how to say this," he sighs, "I'm not coming home."

Your heart drops to your stomach. "What?"

"Yeah. I'm, um, I'm staying in America for now. I found a house in LA, it's nice."

"Well when are you coming back then?" you utter in disbelief.

"Not anytime soon. I have work, so it's just easier for me to be in America. I'm sorry." his tone is stiff.

"But what about us? I miss you so much, these past few months have already been hell for me. I don't think I can survive much longer without seeing you."

No response.

"Tom, are you still there? You know I can't move in with you. I'm already enrolled in university here in London, I can't drop everything and come to America if that's what you want."

"That's not what I want." At this point he seems to have no emotion in his voice, as if he's reading directly from a script.

"So then what do you want?" you start to really worry, tears already stinging your eyes.

"I think you can probably figure that out by now, Y/N."

"Tom, no. You seriously can't be thinking-"

"Yeah, I am thinking that. You've already said that these past few months have been hell, and I'm too busy with work, so I think that's the only option."

You plead with him, "Tom, please! We can figure this out, I love you so much. We can't break up Tom, I can't lose you." You're sobbing at this point, scared to lose the one person you need the most.

"No, we can't figure this out. We have to break up, there's no other choice."

"What happened to you and me forever? That- that night in the treehouse you said you wouldn't let anything come between us!"

"We were kids, Y/N! We had no idea what our lives were going to turn out like. That was a stupid thing to say and I never should have said it, okay? You can't keep every promise you make, especially when you're eighteen. But we're mature adults now, and the mature way to handle this is to break up. Understand?" His voice is booming through your phone speaker, and it's nothing you've ever heard come from him before. He was always calm, looking for a way to work things out. But now, he's completely giving up.

"Tom, please, I-"

"No, Y/N, I don't have time for this right now, I'm sorry. Goodbye."

He hung up. He's gone.

That was the last time you spoke to him. You didn't even get to properly say goodbye, let alone see his face before he was gone forever.

Unbeknownst to you, that phone call is still, to this day, Tom's biggest regret. Almost immediately after he hung up, he wished he had never called you in the first place. He was stressed from work, he was angry at his management team for making him stay in America, but most of all he missed you. So he did the only thing he could think of to take it all away - separate himself from you. He thought that if he broke up with you, he would feel better about his career choices and he wouldn’t have to wwc:orry about missing you anymore because it would be over.

He was wrong.

Every day since then, he’s wanted to call you, text, you, or somehow contact you to apologize; explain why he did what he did and how he still loves you, still needs you, still misses you every second of his life. But he knows he can’t. You would never be able to forgive him for breaking it all off so suddenly. There’s no way in hell you could still love him after something like that.

So he’s stayed out of reach from you for good. And he hopes that maybe one day he’ll be able to move on, find someone new like you’ve probably done by now. But deep down he knows he never will.

You’re still unable to sleep, and now that it’s almost four in the morning, you decide that you probably won’t be able to for the rest of the night. Not knowing what else’s to do, you begrudgingly roll out of bed and go to the kitchen to make a cup of tea. As you fill up your mug with warm water, you hear a knock at the door.

Who the fuck would be coming to your apartment this early? You suspect it’s Finn, as he always manages to forget his key. Maybe his night with the mystery bar hunk didn’t go as well as he had planned. You quickly set a tea bag in your mug and walk to open the door.

“Back so soon Fi... what the fuck.” your heart drops to your stomach.

It’s him. The same brown-haired, brown-eyed, British boy that you remember, staring down at you from outside your apartment at four in the morning.

“Hey.”

~~~~~~~~

tags: @pxkajesus @roseke @agentsofparker @lifeasjazzz @damnrancidchicken @tomhoelland01 @iwannabekilledtwice @rafehogwarts @non-eexistent @rosiexx8 @nearlydanger9 @realityisabitch07 @midgardassassins @jbreenr @cap-marvxl @ellesmythe @deepestcolorgiantopera @that-one-person @nevertrustapanda16 @rxmanxff @bubbleskz @quinn-spn58 @idkkkkaaw @aayaissaa @pjmjams @tiredstudenttrinity @isabella-bby @hollandprkr @pure-ghost @ladykxxx08 @white-wolf1940 @runawayolives @geekgirleve @thathurtbrolol @lost-girl24 @justafangirlduh @emistrash @writingrem @hallecarey1 @adayasgeorgia @mathletemadison @paulaabellag @miraclesoflove @captainamirica @mlmarint @quaksonhehe @laneybobeczko-g @peterspideysense @hollandstanevans @anna-sofia

[hilllsnholland]

Bucket List - (2)

Pairing: College!Tom x Deaf!Reader

W.c: 2.9k 

Warnings: swears, alcohol, slurs 

Summary: Ice cream really cures the soul 

Disclaimer: This is all written from my perspective as a Deaf/HoH person. If you have comments, questions, or concerns then you are welcome to message me :) 

The only thing Creekview had to offer was the sun. In London, the sun was a distant cousin that came around only when it benefited themselves. As much as Tom loathed the small college town, he loved the weather. He loved the sun beating down his neck while he sat outside Milky, serving ice cream to the somewhat pleasant residents of Creekview.

Milky was what Creekview was known for. It was a small drive-thru or walk up shop that served ice cream and other snacks. On the side of the building, there’s a beautiful mural of cows eating ice cream, looking out to the observer with blank expressions. Every day Tom patted each painted cow on the head on his way to his shift. A good luck sort of thing. It was needed though as the lines and customers got crazy as the temperature rose.

“Fuck this,” Brant spat as he wiped his forehead again. “They can’t even buy us an outdoor fan? Cheap ass white people.”

Tom tries to ignore him and enjoy the feeling of heat on his skin. The Brit tilts his sunglasses up on his face so that Brant can’t tell he’s in another headspace. The party still absorbed his mind. It had been three days since that night but he hadn’t stopped thinking of Y/N. When he got bored he fingerspelled his name like Y/N did. As soon as he got home that night he went online and practiced basic signs. Things like ‘hello’ ‘how are you’ ‘bathroom’ were now part of his vocabulary. It wasn’t much but it would be a gesture of willingness. All Tom wanted was to see her hands move again.  

“I heard you hooked up with that pink haired chick.” Brant smugly says as he leans against the walk-up counter.

“No-”

“I saw her too. Looked like a wild one huh? I bet she’s hella freaky with that pink hair and shit.”

“Nothing happened. We kissed. She left. End of story.”

“Left you blue balling and shit? Sorry man,” Brant slaps Tom on the shoulder and smacks his lips. “I thought your British accent would help you pull but you keep striking out.”

Tom doesn’t respond. He spells his name again and goes through the alphabet to keep his mind at peace. The only good quality thing about Brant was that he was a talker. He could keep a conversation going for hours, but he mostly talked to hear his own voice. Tom could never say a word and Brant wouldn’t even notice.

“Ty got fucked up though. Kevin laid him out flat.” Brant snickers and eyes a few girls walking across the street.

“You told him to say that though, right? You set him up for it.” Tom narrows his eyes on the ground while Brant shifts his weight towards him.

“Hell yeah I did. You got a problem with that?”

Brant adjusts himself to stand straight. He was trying to be an alpha male alright, he was half a foot taller than Tom. Brant puffs out his chest but Tom does not give him the time of day. He knew his dirty work. He knew that Brant was a manipulative asshole, and sadly he was drawn into that culture. Times like this he really misses London. The guys there were assholes too, but this was a new breed of fuckery.

It seems like the div had found something else to be interested in because Brant was now flirting with a girl standing at the counter to order something. Tom went back to his original position of leaning on the wall behind him, his sunglasses tilting off the top of his nose. His mind went back to its usual job of putting Y/N in the center stage of his thoughts. God, if he’s on autopilot then he’s probably thinking about her. It was one meeting and he was hooked on it. He even approached LJ to ask her more that night.

*

LJ was in the midst of refilling the keg, her eyes locked on Harrison as he talks to a group of girls in his Sociology class. Tom had come up behind her hoping for answers. It was her party after all. She seemed to know everyone in this godforsaken town. LJ jumps when she sees Tom but settles with a laugh, hitting him on the shoulder.

“Scared me lovey.” She sloppily says.

“Do you know a Y/N?” Tom is quick with words while Lauren takes a second to think.

“Maybe?”

“She’s Deaf.”

“Oh, Y/N. Yes, I do.” LJ laughs and turns the nozzle of the keg back on. “I met her a while back at another party. She used to go to that Deaf school a few hours away.”

LJ shrugs and gulps down another solo cup full of beer. Tom wondered if he should ask more about her, but would that come off creepy? They didn’t seem like friends, but LJ is the type to gossip a bit. Lauren turns to Tom and looks as if she had come to an epiphany. Her hand caresses Tom’s cheek softly and she flattens her lips.

“That look on your face,” She purrs and drags her nail across his mouth.

“LJ, you’re drunk.” Tom tries to break the tension but she keeps staring on.

“So are you, but you’re...you got that happy look Tommy,” She’s not very coherent as she sways back and forth. “That same look I get when I see Haz…”

Her face becomes more flushed than usual as she breaks out into a fit of giggles. Her hand leaves his face as she turns back around to refill her cup. LJ wipes her face lazily and clears her throat.

“Tommy, be careful baby,” Her voice is shallow in her throat. “Y/N, she’s a different kind of girl. The kind to break your heart.”

LJ spins the contents of her drink around in the cup as she sways. Tom watches her face drop, the look of knowing more but not saying it. Although he wanted to push, there was something eating at him to not do it. Maybe it was self-destruction, but her warning didn’t persuade him any different. He still wanted to talk to Y/N. Learn her story, more than the gossip LJ would have.

“How would you know?” Tom defensively says and grabs the cup from LJ’s hand. “Did you hear that from your dumb rumormongers?”

She doesn’t react right away. LJ hums as her hand squeezes the air the cup had once occupied. Her eyes are sad as she looks back at Tom, almost pitying him. Was this a sick joke?

“Behind every rumor is a little bit of truth. Even if it’s twisted, Tom,”

*

There’s a loud ringing and Tom snaps from his thoughts. It was the customer bell from the counter. Brant was nowhere to be seen, possibly in the back trying to get away from the heat. Tom shakes his head and walks up to the counter with his fake smile ready to greet whatever Creekview trash would walk up.

“Welcome to Milky-” Tom stops and gapes at the two girls standing in front of him.

It was Y/N, staring with huge eyes, and her friend from before who was blinking rapidly. The friend laughs awkwardly, elbowing Y/N, and signs something Tom has not yet learned. Y/N scatters to reply but keeps an eye on Tom while she’s responding. Tom raises his hand and tries to sign, ‘nice to meet you’ while mouthing his words. The friend cackles through her accent, signing something back.

“Sorry, I’m trying to learn,” Tom says while trying to sign.

“You’re alright. We’re just...surprised to see you.” Y/N says while simultaneously signing. “Tom right?”

His name on her hands looks just as beautiful as before. Tom nods and fingerspells Y/N’s name slowly. She smiles, nodding her head and motioning the sign, ‘right’. The friend coughs, pointing to the orange ice cream picture on the counter.

“Oh right sorry,” Tom shakes his head and nods. “Can I get you guys anything?”

“My friend here,” Y/N elbows her friend and fingerspells her name. “Tejas, she wants an orange swirl. I’ll take a Coke Diablo.”

Tom’s mouth feels dry and he can’t form a sign that would be correct in the situation. In his awkward mess of nerves, he stumbles away and into Milky to grab their order. He mumbled to himself as he makes their ice cream, his mind and mouth moving in two different speeds. What could he say to her? Maybe he needs to learn more sign before talking to her? It was a mess, all the little Toms in his head were setting things on fire. Next thing he knew he felt the cold, sticky mess of ICEE on his hand. He grabbed a towel and cleaned up the mess, setting himself straight before going back out there.

With an adjustment to his sunglasses and a mental pep talk, Tom walked back out to the girls. He handed them both their treats, earning a ‘thank you’ from Y/N and a condescending smile from Tejas. She was analyzing him, signing about him when he was right there. Although Tom wasn’t fluent, he could tell she was being snarky.

“$8.64,” Tom says and then watches Tejas sign something. “What is she saying?”

Y/N hands him a ten while signing back to her friend, contorting her face into a scrunched up expression.

“She keeps calling you ‘Hearing Boy’,” Y/N explains then fingerspells his name again. “She’s not very open to hearing people,”

“Why not?”

Y/N interprets the conversation which makes Tejas make a noise that was similar to honking. Her head shakes from side to side as her hands move rapidly, the ice cream swaying side to side and dripping down the cone.

“She says all you hearing people do is make fun of her.” Y/N slyly points behind Tom to where Brant has reappeared. “Your friend there has called her retarded since she moved here,”

Yet again Tom’s biggest weakness was who he allowed to be associated with. It wasn’t a surprise, Brant was a lowlife who would stoop to slurs like that. Tom felt a fire bubbling under his skin, god he wanted to knock him out but Brant was double his size and weight. He shakes his head and exhales.

“Brant is an idiot. A fucking div,” Tom hands Y/N back her money. “But we’re not all like that. Some of us want to understand Deaf people,”

Y/N watches his mouth move and smiles. Tejas looks lost and huffs against her ice cream. She could see what was forming and she was not happy about it. Tom met Y/N’s gaze and raised his hand to try to sign to her.

“Your hair...beautiful,” He signs slowly.

Y/N runs a hand through the dyed hair and giggles nervously.

“It’s fake...all for that party.” She responds. “Do you have time to talk right now?”

Tom immediately signs yes, not caring about if Brant would need his help or not with the impending rush. Y/N signs something to Tejas, who rolls her eyes and then watches her friend walk around the corner with car keys in hand. Tom leads Y/N to the other side of the building where the murals were.

“So, how Deaf are you?” Tom says while dragging his hand across one of the painted cows. “You seem to carry a conversation pretty well,”

Y/N feigns a smile, inhaling harshly as she leans against the wall and slides down. Her arms are crossed over her chest as she looks up to Tom.

“I was born hearing. I was in a car accident when I was a kid, lost the majority of my hearing.” She points to her ears and shrugs. “I can follow along because I know what sounds are. I can read lips alright.”

Her body tenses as she looks towards the beating sun. It was high in the sky, perks of the long summer days. She squinted and held a hand up to block the sun. Without a second thought, Tom hands her his sunglasses and steps into the sunlight. She motions a thank you and puts them on. Tom couldn’t help but smile, she looked better in his glasses than he did.

“So, what happened at the party, that kiss?” Her words are shaky which she masks with awkward laughing. “It was great. I just don’t think you know what you’re getting into-”

“Are you talking about the rumors?”

“Which ones?” Y/N pushes back the fading pink strands and sighs. “There’s so many now. I don’t even care anymore,”

“Someone said you’ll break my heart,” Tom watches her face fall slightly. “But I’m looking for someone to ruin my life anyways.”

Y/N laughs, but this time it's a real laugh though. It came from the bottom of her stomach as if this was the first funny thing she heard in years. Maybe not heard, but you know the specifics are hard. Tom laughs, switching her weight so he’s leaning towards her.

“I think you’re cool Tom, especially with that accent I can’t hear.” Y/N tries to wink behind the glasses but it doesn’t really work. “I just don’t want you to expect much because we don’t know each other,”

“Can I get to know you?”

Y/N looks to him in surprise. There’s a long pause though, she doesn’t speak but she reaches inside of her backpack to find something. Tom isn’t sure if she’s handing him her number or a restraining order but she pulls out a piece of torn out paper. It’s folded perfectly, doodles on the corners of little turtles with sunglasses. He opens it and at the top of the page it says in big letters, ‘Summer Bucket List’.

“What’s this?”

“You want to get to know me right?” She stands and pushes the sunglasses down the bridge of her nose so her eyes are seductively pooling into his. “Read this, then next time we meet I’ll tell you the plan.”

Y/N places the sunglasses on Tom’s head, her other hand rests on the middle of his chest. She can feel the rhythm, fast and all for her. There’s a moment where everything is still, their lips so close from touching but uncertainty clouds the moment. It wasn’t right, Tom was sure of that. If he wanted to kiss her it had to be lead by her. Y/N puts her backpack back on and steps away.

“I’ll see you around,” She says then signs something new. “This is your name sign for now okay?”

She shows him, it’s the sign for ‘hearing’ but with a T hand shape. He smiles and repeats it. A name sign, something only given by Deaf people to their friends and family. Tom took this as a way of her promising to see him again. The list felt heavy in his hands as he watched her walk towards a beat up Cadillac on the corner driven by Tejas.

“How will I find you once I’m done reading this?” Tom yells down the street which causes a few Creekview residents to stop and stare.

“You can try to find me on social media or,” Tom can see her smirking playfully. “Or let fate decide. Your choice.”

Y/N enters the car and that’s the end of their meeting. Tejas whips the car from the space and drives away. The whole interaction felt like a dream. It did not feel real in a conceivable way. Tom looked to the list and back to the corner she was standing at before to make sure this was not a figment of his imagination. He unravels the list completely and was surprised to see only five.

Swim in Creek Lake

Easy enough. That was one of the most popular destinations during the summer. Creekview had a lake that was swarmed by people who were either swimming, tanning, or canoeing. Tom had yet to go into the water though, he usually did a hike around the hills behind the lake with Harrison.

    2. Watch a Drive-In movie

That was something he did not expect. Do Drive-Ins have captioned movies? Tom didn’t even know where they still had Drive-Ins. It had to be something he’d look up later.

   3. Go to DeckFest

Deckfest? The Deckfest? Also known as the Coachella for people who can not afford Coachella. A music festival between California and Nevada, held in a desert, with lesser-known names. It was a mix of Rolling Loud and Warp Tour.

   4. Win a fistfight

Y/N obviously had more layers that he was expecting. The fourth one made him laugh, folding the paper while smiling a little too much. Watching her fight? He’d pay money for that. Tom looks to the last one and drops a bit.

   5. Find my purpose

Tom’s heart panged as he read it over and over. He related to the last item, something he needed to figure out by August also. In the time where he needs to figure out his major, his future, he was more interested in reading this Bucket List and talking to Y/N. Maybe it was master procrastination, or maybe it would lead him to his final destination. Either way, Tom had his roadmap for the summer, all starting with Creek Lake.

///

///

Taglist: 

@screeching-student-unknown / @nyctophilicstyles /  @captainbuckyy / @vintage-moonlight / @breadbudzo / @h-natale / @originalpinkpowerranger/ @happywolves81 / @drunkgreek / @iamnida95 / @sydthekidsloth / @spiderboytotherescue / @laureharrier / @starksparker / @madon566 / @nophunleague / @itsbrittneynicole / @hereiamhereigo

[hunnywrites]

Sixteen Candles: Part Two

Summary: It’s the day that Vivian has been looking forward to nearly her entire life: her sixteenth birthday. But between her sister’s wedding overshadowing her big day, and praying that her crush Billy Hargrove will finally notice her things aren’t going too well for her. If she can just survive the under the sea dance at her school and avoid the really weird and creepy Tommy H her night might be salvageable. Maybe.

Pairing: Billy Hargrove/OFC

A/N: Sorry this took so long to get out! Hopefully the next chapter will be up sooner!

“Not a single happy birthday, Robin. From anyone. They almost acted like I was fucking invisible on top of it,” Vivian huffed as she and Robin made their ways through the halls of Hawkins High. Tommy hadn’t even said anything to her and she had at least been expecting some sort of creepy comment from him. 

“Maybe this is some sort of a trick. Or like a joke,” Robin offered. “Like, maybe they’re pretending that they forgot, but when you get home they’ll have some sort of surprise party?” 

Vivian rolled her eyes. “I doubt that. They’re not thoughtful enough to think of something like that. God, I shouldn’t even be surprised. Everything’s been about Sarah lately anyways,” she grumbled, stopping in front of her locker and angrily unlocking it. It had always sort of been that way. Sarah was the golden child. Perfect at everything she did. Carol got attention because she was always getting into trouble. Vivian was the quiet kid with a B average in school. It was sort of easy for her to seem invisible to other people. “Besides, I have bigger problems at the moment.”

Robin gave her a disbelieving look. “Bigger problems than your family forgetting your birthday? Do tell.” 

“I ran into Billy in my kitchen last night.” Vivian said simply.

Robin stared blankly at her for a moment before cracking a smile and raising an eyebrow. “...Is that all?” 

“He said he liked my shirt. And he told me happy birthday.” now that she said it out loud it didn’t sound all that impressive.

“Wow, you’re practically married.” Robin teased. 

Vivian slammed her locker shut and held up a finger. “That’s not all, miss sassy pants. I almost asked him out to the dance.” 

Robin seemed speechless for a few seconds. She blinked wildly a few times, titling her head at her best friend. Vivian said all the time that she was gonna get the courage to ask Billy out one day. Neither Robin or Vivian actually believed her whenever she’d say it though. “You almost asked?” 

The pair took off down the hallway once again. “Well, I brought the dance up, but before I could he said that Cheryl was gonna make him go with her.” she said with a dramatic eye roll.

“Sounds romantic.” Robin laughed.

“I totally don’t get it. Why even date her?” Vivian groaned. That was a stupid question. Cheryl was gorgeous. Even if she was a pain in the ass. And it wasn’t really like Billy was a guy of substance as Robin just loved to remind Vivian. 

“Oh, I can think of one reason…” 

Vivian glared over at Robin. “It’s my birthday. No reminding me that they’re boning.” 

“Just trying to add perspective,” Robin grinned. “Try and keep you as sane as I can when it comes to the whole Billy subject,” it was a fair statement to make, much as Vivian didn’t want to admit it. “I suppose this means we’re gonna spend the night at the dance stalking him around the gym until he notices you?” 

“...I wouldn’t put it that way.” Vivian muttered. 

“No? How would you?”

“...Shut up. Like we have anything better to do.” Vivian and Robin never did much at dances. They normally liked to avoid them, but every once and awhile Vivian’s mom forced her to tag along with Carol in an attempt to make Vivian more “normal”. So usually they’d park out on the bleachers with some punch and make fun of other people until Carol and Tommy decided they were ready to leave. 

Robin laughed and shook her head. “Viv, I’m just teasing. If you wanna spend your birthday stalking Billy Hargrove then I can’t really say no,” Vivan shot Robin an unimpressed look. “Oh look, speak of the devil…” Robin nodded her head down the hall. 

Vivian turned to look as Billy made his way around the corner. His arm was draped casually around Cheryl’s shoulder and she was talking animatedly about something, but it was obvious he wasn’t listening to much of what she was saying. His eyes landed on Vivian and Robin, and a slow smile graced his lips before he nodded his head in their direction before he and Cheryl passed by them. 

Vivian looked over at Robin. “Tell me I didn’t just imagine that.”

Robin’s eyebrows were raised as she watched Billy and Cheryl disappear down the hall. “You didn’t imagine that.”

“...Maybe there’s hope for this birthday afterall.” Vivian said with a somewhat dreamy sigh.

Robin let out a soft laugh and shook her head. “Let’s just get to biology before we’re late, birthday girl.” 

---

Lunch was hands down Billy’s favorite subject in school. Sure, it wasn’t technically a class, but that was sort of the point. The bell at the end of his algebra class would ring and Billy would be the first one out of the room. He’d get a coke from the vending machine by the cafeteria and go out to his car and smoke. 

Some days, like today, Tommy, Carol and Cheryl and a few of their other friends would join him. Tommy and Carol would usually switch between bitching about their classes and playing tonsil hockey while Cheryl would lounge out on the hood of Billy’s Camaro. Even though he had told her more times than he could count never to sit on his baby. What a pain in the ass. 

“Billy,” Cheryl pouted over at him. “I forgot my purse in my gym locker. Can I borrow fifty cents for a coke?” Billy resisted the urge to roll his eyes before fishing two quarters from his pocket and handing them over to her. She pressed a kiss to his cheek, leaving a pink lip print behind, before hopping off of the Camaro and sauntering back towards the school. He watched her until she disappeared inside before turning his gaze to Carol. Tommy was talking to some other guy from the basketball team, so for once she was alone. 

“Hey, Carol,” he said, lighting a cigarette. “What’s the deal with your sister?” 

Carol looked at him like he was speaking a different language. “What the hell do you mean what’s the deal?” she asked. 

Billy rolled his eyes and blew out a puff of smoke. “I mean like her situation. Is she seeing anyone?” 

Carol let out a loud snort, covering her mouth the quiet her loud burst of laughter. “Seeing anyone? Fuck no. She’s a total dork. She’s like a total loser virgin. I don’t think she’s even kissed a guy,” Billy might not have put it so bluntly, but he couldn’t say he was all that surprised. He was pretty sure that other than Carol, the only person he’d ever seen Vivian around with was that girl Robin. “What do you care anyways?” she asked. 

Billy only shrugged. “Just curious.” He’d always had a mild interest in Vivian. He reminded her of the girls back home in California. Easy going. Pretty. Plus he particularly liked how she looked in her leather jacket. He found her more attractive than Carol, but then with a shitty attitude like hers he couldn’t really see how anyone could find Carol attractive. Except Tommy, of course. He was so dumb Billy was sometimes genuinely surprised he could string a whole sentence together. And it wasn’t exactly a secret that Vivian had a thing for him. He noticed the way her cheeks would turn all pink whenever he was around. It was cute. 

“You thinkin’ of gettin’ with that, Hargrove?” Tommy grinned, throwing his arm around Carol. 

Carol let out another snort. “Good luck.” she nearly spat. 

“Yeeeah dude,” Tommy laughed. “Don’t let Cheryl find out! Man, she’d totally kill you.” 

Billy rolled his eyes again. He didn’t give a shit if Cheryl found out. They weren’t dating. He could do whatever he wanted. If there was anything he even wanted to do. “How about you mind your own business for once, Tommy?” he asked, flicking the butt of his cigarette away. “I gotta get to class.” he muttered before walking off. Of course it was a lie. But any excuse to get away from Tommy and Carol was good enough for him. 

It irritated him sometimes. These two weren’t really his friend. They’d dumped Steve Harrington and latched onto Billy as soon as he had moved to Hawkins because he was the new cool kid. He couldn’t talk to them about anything real. He couldn’t ask Tommy for advice about girls or anything else. Any time he complained about the fact that he genuinely couldn’t stand Cheryl, Tommy would make some perverted joke and Billy would regret opening his mouth. So sometimes it was just best to walk away.

“...Did he just say he has to get to class?” Tommy asked as Billy disappeared towards the school.

--- 

Vivian came home to a surprise, but it definitely wasn’t the one she had been hoping for. Her mother, Sarah and Kevin were all home, but they all barely acknowledged her presence as she walked into the kitchen. There had been this tiny part of her that wondered if Robin had been onto something. Maybe they were just pretending to forget her birthday and she’d come home to a cake and decorations. But that definitely wasn’t the case. So instead of sitting around being blatantly ignored on her birthday, she decided to go throw her own pity party up in her bedroom. But her bedroom wasn’t empty. 

“There’s our little Vivian!” her grandpa greeted loudly, throwing his arms open wide as Vivian walked into her room. She looked around with wide eyes. Their luggage was everywhere. And there was so much of it. She was almost worried that it meant that they would be staying longer than just the weekend. Her grandpa wrapped her in a tight hug as her grandma smiled on at the pair, but still no happy birthday. 

“Uh, hi grandpa...what are you guys doing up here?” she asked warily. 

“Your mother said we could stay up here for the weekend,” her grandma explained. She had an almost pained expression on her face as she looked around Vivian’s room. “You know, Vivian, this room of yours isn’t very ladylike,” she scolded. “These posters are all very...violent looking. Why couldn’t you decorate a bit more like Carol or Sarah?” she asked. 

It took nearly all of Vivian’s energy to keep herself from rolling her eyes. Instead she only shrugged. It never did any good to argue with her grandma. She’d only rat Vivian out to her mother and she definitely didn’t want a lecture today of all days. “It’s just how I like it, grandma.” was all she said. Even though she wanted to add a comment about how they could find somewhere else to stay if her room wasn’t good enough. Her grandma pursed her lips.

“Awwww, leave her alone honey. This is what all the kids are into these days, right, Viv?” her grandpa asked, grinning widely at her and nudging her side with his elbow. 

Vivian looked between the two of them for a moment, almost to give them the chance to realize that they too hadn’t wished her a happy birthday. “...Yeah. It’s what all the kids are into,” she said dryly. This had to be a goddamn joke.

“You know, Vivian,” her grandma said. “If you took all these horrible things down and maybe dressed a little more like Sarah I’m sure you could get yourself a boyfriend. Don’t you think, George? You’re really quite pretty underneath all this...grunge,” she poked the tip of Vivian’s nose. “And you’ve got quite a nice little figure!” Vivian’s eyes widened. Was this actually happening?

She took a big step back from her grandma and let out a nervous laugh. “Right. So...I’ll let you two get settled in then...go find out where I’m supposed to be sleeping…” she didn’t give them the opportunity to say anything else. Vivian whirled around and stomped back downstairs and into the kitchen. She felt like she was in the twilight zone or something. 

“Grandma and grandpa are staying in my room?” she asked. 

Her mother turned towards her, giving herself a small slap to the forehead. “Oh, yes! I knew there was something I was forgetting to tell you! I’m sorry, hun. I offered it to them awhile ago and I never mentioned it,” she let out a small laugh and shook her head. “My mind is everywhere these days.” 

Vivian blinked a few times. “Oh sure, sure...is there anything else you’re maybe forgetting to tell me?” Vivian asked expectantly. 

“Hmm? Oh…” her mother shook her head. “I don’t think so. I’ll fix the couch up for you tonight, okay?”

Vivian let out a small huff. This had to be the curse of being the youngest child or something. “How come Carol gets to keep her room? Where am I supposed to get ready for the dance?” all of this on top of the fact that she didn’t even want to go to the dance was the icing on the cake. Metaphorical cake, because she sure as hell wouldn’t be getting a real birthday cake at the rate her day was going. 

“God, do you ever stop complaining?” Sarah asked. “Just get ready in my room or something. I’ll be gone by then. You’re giving me a headache.”

Vivian glared over at her sister. “I’m giving you a headache?” she asked. “Can you even hear yourself whenever you’re crying over your flowers not being the right color or whatever it is you’re always bitching about to mom?” 

“Enough you two!” their mother sighed. “Vivian, language. Sarah, leave your sister alone. Can we all just relax? Everything will be handled. Now ,Vivian, go...do your homework or something.” she waved her away. Vivian shot another glare at Sarah before heading out into the living room and flopping face first onto the couch dramatically and letting out a loud sigh.

“What are you so upset about?” Carol asked, crossing her arms as she looked down at her sister with an amused expression. 

Vivian lifted her head and shot an incredulous look at her. “Let’s think for a second, Carol. Can you maybe come up with a reason I might be upset?” 

Carol only shrugged. “...I guess I’d be pretty bummed out too if I was such a dork.” she said with a smug grin.

“Yeah, well, better to be a dork than a raging bitch.” Vivian spat.

“Vivian! Language!” her mother called from the kitchen. Vivian let out a groan. 

Carol snickered before heading to the stairs. “Dork.” she said, laughing again before bounding up the stairs. 

That was it. Vivian didn’t care that it was her birthday anymore. She didn’t care that Billy had smiled at her in the hall that morning. She wanted this day and this weekend to be over. She wanted Sarah and Kevin to fly back home and only come to visit at Christmas. She wanted her room back. But first she would have to get through the school dance.