#all this because he wanted ryan to call him darling *shrug*
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sunshine-luca · 2 years ago
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X The fire crackled merrily in the fireplace, throwing heat and a warm glow over where Luca lay sprawled on the piled up cushions and thick heavy blankets of the makeshift nest they’d made in front of it. Luca had never expected to enjoy fucking on a stone floor quite so much but as he leaned back and admired the pearlescent ropes of cum pooling in the dip of his belly button, he couldn’t deny the way the solid ground had allowed them to play with angles that just didn’t hit deep enough on a mattress.
He grinned to himself, remembering all the lewd acts that have given him such a messy treasure as he trailed a finger through it and watched the way it glistened in the firelight.
“There’s so much,” he said as Ryan moved about the shadows of the room, just out of sight in the places the fire’s glow didn’t reach. “Is it yours or mine?”
Ryan moved back into the light with something in his hand that Luca couldn’t see. His gaze was mostly caught on the older man’s heavy cock swinging between his thick, tattooed thighs anyway. Ryan’s back was scratched up from Luca’s blunt nails and there were patches of deep rose all over his neck and chest where Luca had gone at him like a wild cat. Luca liked those marks. They looked pretty against his ink and until Luca’s name was etched under Ryan’s skin, it was the closest he could get to marking his territory.
Luca watched him approach, reaching out grabby hands in a silent request to come closer.
“All yours,” Ryan chuckled as he lowered himself down beside Luca, stretching out along his side and lowering a kiss to Luca’s demanding mouth. Luca felt a gentle thumb against his hole, rubbing gently but not quite breaching him. “Mine is where it belongs. Inside ye.”
“Hmm, good. I love being full up of you.”
“I ken,” Ryan gave him another kiss and Luca teasingly sucked on his tongue for a beat before sinking back against the pile of blankets. God, but he was tired in the best way.
He hummed happily and stretched like a cat. The motion of his body made a trail of dampness threaten to roll down his side.
Ryan tsked quietly. “Now, cannae have that,” he said, catching the mess on his finger. “Be too much of a shame to waste even this wee drop.”
“Gonna taste it, daddy?” 
He expected Ryan to lick his finger or rub it against Luca’s own lips so his breath hitched as Ryan’s fingers brushed over his belly and scooped up more of his rapidly cooling mess. This time the older man’s hand did breach him, shoving his sopping thick fingers into Luca’s still stretched hole. Luca gasped in delighted surprise, catching Ryan’s arm just for something to hold onto.
Ryan leaned over him, smiling darkly as he worked Luca’s own mess inside him nice and deep. “There, baby boy,” Ryan crooned, voice rough as he worked. “Now it’s all there. All mixed in with mine.”
Luca curled against him as he moaned. Just the thought of it would have been enough to excite him, but the reality was even better. Another way to meld into each other, another way to blur their edges and join them in inexplicable ways. He couldn’t get enough, he wanted to be closer and he soon lost the will to prevent his hips from rocking against Ryan’s thick fingers.
“Don’t let any slip out,” he whispered, eyes closed as he rocked. Ryan smiled against his mouth. “I wanna keep it all, daddy.”
“Yer should know me better than that, boy.” Ryan’s fingers disappeared and Luca whined unhappily. The whine was soon cut off by something cold and smooth against his lips. His eyes snapped open.
Oh. A plug. Luca’s excitement spiked at the sight of it.
“Yes,” he hissed, wriggling. He stuck out his tongue, opened his mouth, waiting.
“There’s my wee boy,” Ryan growled, his voice rough like gravel. He rested the plug against Luca’s chin and Luca didn’t hesitate to let a glob of drool run down his lips to land on the cool metal before Ryan brought it back up for Luca to swirl his tongue around it. “Look at ye. I don’t even need to tell you. My perfect, pretty boy.”
Luca relished the praise as Ryan twisted the plug until it was wet down enough to slip into Luca’s body without resistance.
Luca moaned loudly, eyelids fluttering as his ass adjusted to the delicious intrusion. He was full up now. Stuffed with cum and spit and plugged until their next round when Ryan would fuck it all out of him or add some more... Luca was happy.
“Mmm,” he smiled contentedly and snuggled into Ryan’s chest. “Thank you, Daddy. I love you.”
The activities of the day were starting to catch up with him now. Luca loved it here in this pink little house on the edge of the loch that Ryan had brought him to. It was quiet and peaceful and aside from Shona sending down one of the lads with baskets of supplies, they hadn’t seen another soul for almost three days. There had been no work, no calls, nothing but Ryan’s focus solely on him.
Bliss, even if there were moments when Ryan seemed a little distracted.
He was starting to drift off when he felt Ryan tugging him into his arms and lifting him off the ground. “Noo, too comfortable,” he complained, then gasped sharply as the plug inside him bumped his prostate and a zing of alertness shot through him. “God, Blake-“
“I cannae believe I’m saying this,” Ryan rumbled as he carried Luca down the short hall to the bedroom. Away from the heat of the fireplace, Luca’s skin prickled with cold and he whined and tried to snuggle closer and protested sulkily when Ryan laid him down against the cool sheets. “We have a big day tomorrow. Ye need your rest.”
“No, I don’t. I just need your dick in my ass again.”
Ryan chuckled, pulling back the sheets further before sliding in beside him and covering them both against the chill. Luca wasted no time rolling over and snuggling in close again until they were a tangled mess of limbs and syncing heartbeats – and if Ryan’s hand swept down his spine and tapped against the plug in his ass, Luca definitely moaned into the pillow about it.
“That’s not gonna help me rest,” he muttered, then pushed back against Ryan. “I’d rather sleep with you in me.”
He expected Ryan to follow the same steps of their usual dance – turning him over in the sheets to pull the plug from his ass and fill him up with his cock instead – but Ryan only wrapped his arms around him and pulled him closer.
A little flicker of unease had him threading their fingers together and kissing each one of Ryan’s patterned knuckles. Something was on the pilot’s mind.
“What did you mean?” Luca asked quietly into the dark. “When you said we have a big day tomorrow? Do we have to go back?”
“No, darlin’” Ryan’s lips found the warm, slightly ticklish spot behind Luca’s ear. The brush of his beard made Luca want to laugh and Ryan knew it, chasing away Luca’s worries. 
“Tomorrow I’m takin’ ye to the stones.”
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waitimcomingtoo · 4 years ago
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Plank All Over Me - Spill Your Guts Or Fill Your Guts Edition
Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader
Masterlist
Plank All Over Me Masterlist
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“Welcome back to Spill Your Guts Or Fill Your Guts.” James Cordan said to the camera. “I’m here with Tom and Y/n Holland.”
“Oh my God.” Tom looked at you with wide eyes as you both thought the same thing.
“He introduced us.” You realized. “We can’t do our bit.”
“You’re my wife now, darling. You get to do anything you want.” Tom stated at he looked at James. “James, we’re actually Dave and James Franco.”
“Who’s who?” James humored you, well aware of the way you and Tom acted in interviews.
“I’m clearly the James.” You mumbled as you smoothed your dress.
“Dave is more attractive.” Tom shrugged sassily and you made a face at him.
“Can we start the game?” James playfully interrupted and you and Tom sat up straight.
“Yes, sorry.” You nodded as James began to explain the rules of the game. You’d seen the bit enough times to know how to play, so you tuned James out a little. You didn’t mean to, you just had a lot on your mind lately. There was something you needed to tell Tom and you hadn’t found the right way to do it yet.
“The first question is for Y/n and since I love her so much I’m going to give her the hot sauce.” James smiled wickedly as he got the hot sauce in front of you.
“Mmm.” You said sarcastically and grimaced at the camera.
“Who got the drunkest at your wedding?” James read off the card before looking at you. You pursed your lips as you thought about the answer before chuckling.
“Probably Tom.” You laughed as you pointed at your husband who was sat across the table from you. His face lit up with laughter as he folded his arms.
“Yeah, I was gonna say. Ryan Reynolds and I had a drinking competition that I definitely won.” He said smugly, making the audience cheer.
“I never imagined I’d be standing by Blake Lively’s side on my wedding day, screaming “CHUG” at my husband, but I’m glad it happened. You made me proud.” You said to Tom with a fond pout on your face.
“Aw.” Tom held his hand over his heart as you stared at each other lovingly.
“Gross.” James deadpanned, making the two of you laugh.
“Next question is for Tom and I am going to give you the cockroaches.” You said as you spun the table. “Love you, honey.”
“It’s looking at me.” Tom gagged as he picked up a cockroach and quickly dropped it back in the little glass bowl.
“How dare that slutty, dead cockroach stare at you.” You joked. “Tell it you’re married.”
“I swear, you two are the strangest couple I had ever sat with.” James shook his head as he laughed.
“We get that a lot.” You and Tom said in unison.
“Okay, Tom, who is the most unprofessional Avenger on set?” You read off your card before setting it back on the table.
“Ooo. That’s a tough one since they’re all so badly behaved.” Tom clicked his tongue and the audience laughed gleefully.
“No, I’m joking.” He smiled at the reaction. “I’m gonna go with Evans because he’s pretty much a ten year old. Like, he carries around one of those tiny skateboards - what are they called?”
“Tech Decks.” You told him.
“Yeah. He carried around a Tech Deck and runs it over everyone’s arms when we’re blocking scenes.” Tom explained as he did the motion of the mini skateboard on the table.
“I have also seen him covered in Cheeto dust countless times.” You added. “He will straight up come to set with orange fingers. He is the opposite of Captain America.”
“I hate that. We call them Wotsitz in England and it makes me cringe.” Tom shuddered as he moved the table. “James, I’m gonna give you the bird saliva.”
“It looks warm.” James commented as he picked it up to examine it. “That’s so unsettling.”
“Ick.” Tom grimaced and picked up a card. “James, which guest would you not invite back to the show?”
The audience reacted accordingly and you raised your eyebrows at the host.
“I can’t answer that.” James held his hand over his mouth as he stared at the bird saliva in front of him.
“Then why do you get asked that in every installment of Spill Your Guts Or Fill Your Guts?” You asked bluntly, making the audience laugh.
“That’s an excellent question and I’m going to think about it while I drink this bird saliva.” James looked you right in the eyes as he took a sip from the small glass. You cringed when he swallowed it and immediately went to take a sip of water.
“Ew. Is it thick?” You wondered as he coughed into his elbow.
“You don’t want to know.” James said hoarsely, shaking his head.
“Do I go now?” Tom asked, already forgetting the order of turns.
“Yes, you pick for Y/n.” James told him as he wiped his mouth.
“Okay.” Tom smiled deviantly and spun the table. “I’m gonna give you the turkey testicles because I know how much you love-“
“Tom.” You cut him off with a stern look.
“Turkey burgers.” He finished his sentence. “She loves turkey burgers.”
You squinted your eyes at him as he laughed devilishly.
“I’m about to walk out.” You threatened him once your fate was put in front of you.
“It’s not a true interview with us unless one of us threatens to leave.” Tom noted as he picked up his card. “Who do you think is the smallest Avenger?”
“Oh, definitely Mackie.” You answered confidently, relieved you didn’t have to eat the “food” in front of you.
“But he’s taller than me.” Tom tilted his head in confusion and your eyes widened.
“Oh you meant height?” You asked, fully misunderstanding the original question. The audience erupted into laughter and you felt your cheeks heat up with embarrassment.
“WHAT?” James asked as he wiped tears from his eyes.
“I thought you were asking about something else.” You said sheepishly as you shrunk in your seat.
“This is CBS.” He reminded you and you have an apologetic grin.
“Next question.” You requested, wanted to move on from your lapse in judgment.
“This ones for Tom and I’m giving you the salmon smoothie.” James decided. “Tom, how much did you get paid for Spiderman: Far From Home?”
“Enough to put a 20 karat ring on Y/n’s finger.” Tom response was immediate and you lit up in delight. You held your hand up to your ear so the camera could see it.
“With matching earrings.” You said coyly before letting out a laugh, all while Tom watched you with a childlike grin.
“My turn. I’m gonna give you the tarantula. James.” You decided and picked up a card. “Who was your least favorite guest on Carpool Karaoke?”
You held the card to your chest as you looked at him expectantly, knowing he’d never answer it.
“I can’t answer that.” He shook his head. “I have an answer but I can’t say it.”
“When you met Lin Manuel Miranda, did he bite his lip?” The words left your mouth before you could stop them. Tom burst out laughing at you, knowing exactly what you were talking about.
“Oh my God. She’s obsessed with that one picture of the guy.” Tom explained.
“It’s so funny. EUHYYYHY WE WERE MARRIED THAT NIGHT.” You imitated the countless singing videos of Lin Manuel Miranda you’d seen on Tik Tok that left you in tears of laughter every night.
“I hear this everyday.” Tom told James as you laughed at yourself.
“I can’t. I can’t. Sorry Lin.” You giggled again before calming down.
“Lin was perfectly lovely and we would love to have him back.” James brought the conversation back to the question. “I have an answer but I just can’t say who it was.”
“Then you better put that spider in your mouth.” Tom nodded towards the spider.
“It’s easy. I do it all the time. Wink wink.” You gave the camera an over exaggerated wink.
“Oh My God. Every time.” Tom scolded you as you made yet another innuendo.
“It smells horrible.” James whined as he leaned down to sniff the tarantula.
“Well it’s a dead bug. Were you expecting Japanese Cherry Blossom?” You sassed him.
“Oh God. Here we go.” James plugged his nose and took a tiny bite of the spiders leg.
“How is it?” Tom wondered as he watched in disgust. “Is it crunchy?”
“It’s gooey.” James told him before wiping his face with his napkin.
“I could’ve told you that.” You shrugged, causing Tom to give you a stern look that told you to behave.
“Stop it.” He couldn’t contain his laughter. “Who’s turn is it?”
“It’s my turn to ask Y/n.” James said as he looked around the table for what hadn’t been used yet.
“Fire away.” You said casually despite the butterflies in your tummy over what he could possible ask you.
“Okay Y/n, I’m gonna give you the grasshoppers.” You bit your tongue between your teeth as James moved the table towards you.
“Delicious.” You grimaced as you poked around in the bowl of grasshoppers.
“Y/n, if you had to date one of Tom’s brothers to save his life, which would you pick?” James read off the card and the audience murmured with anticipation.
“How would I get into that situation?” You stalled your answer, knowing you’d have to pick between hurting Toms feelings or eating a bug.
“And how do I prevent her from getting into that situation?” Tom added, making you laugh. He was trying to keep his cool but you knew the question bothered him.
“You have to answer the question or get to eating. Come on now, before they hop away.” James joked, making the audience laugh. You stared into the bowl of grasshoppers and knew there was no way you could put it on your mouth without throwing up. You gulped and looked at your husband, giving him an apologetic pout before looking at James.
“I guess Sam.” You said weakly and quickly moved the grasshoppers away from you.
“Why Sam?” James asked, always trying to get the best response he could.
“That’s not the question.” You quipped as you taped the card with your fingernail.
“I want to know too.” Tom spoke up, making your stomach drop. You shrugged and folded your arms to look relaxed.
“He was the first one that came to mind and I don’t think you’d want me to sit here and go over the pro��s and con’s of dating all your brothers. Plus, he’s a great chef.” You answered, and to your surprise, Tom smiled.
“That’s true.” He nodded. “Good job, baby.”
“Thank you.” You blew him a playful kiss which he caught and then pretended to throw away to get a laugh. You shot him a look before returning your attention to the table.
“Stop it.” You warned. “Who’s turn is it?”
“It’s your turn, Mrs. Holland.” Tom said, always taking the opportunity to call you that.
“Okay. I’m gonna give you the bulls penis.” You said lovingly as you moved the table.
“You’re too kind, my love.” He teased as it landed in front of him.
“I know. It’s my gift since you always give me the-“
“Don’t you dare finish that sentence.” Tom cut you off. “I don’t even want to know how it ends.”
“Fine. I won’t.” You gave the audience a pointed look and they laughed at your antics. You picked up your card and read the question, immediately laughing at what it asked. You were about to read the question when an idea popped into your head. Tom noticed the way your expression changed and sensed something was up.
“Oh no. I’m scared already.” He smiled nervously as you looked at the card again. Finally, you looked Tom in the eye and gave him a soft smile.
“Are you excited to be a father?” You asked the question that had been weighing on your mind ever since you took a pregnancy test in an airport bathroom two days ago. You wanted to break the news in a memorable way, and constantly being on planes or in cars made that difficult.
This show, however, made it easy.
Toms face melted from a playful smile to wide eyes at your question. The audience quieted down as everyone waited for Tom’s response.
“What?” He asked slowly, studying your face closely to see if you were joking.
“That’s what it says.” You put it simply, makes Toms face shift into a smile. James took the card fork where you had set it down, knowing damn well his writers hadn’t put that as a question, and read it.
“This card says “how big is it?”” James read off the card as he looked at you, making you chuckle slightly.
“I took a creative liberty.” You shrugged. Tom and James looked at each other, both thinking the other was up to something.
“Are you pregnant?” Tom leaned closer to you from across the table to ask.
“You don’t get to ask a question until you’ve chosen what food I have to eat.” You reminded him as you gestured to the table.
“Not to make this about me, but It’s also not your turn.” James threw in a joke as he watched the drama unfold.
“Cow tongue.” Tom said quickly and shifted the table so the cow tongue was in front of you. He looked up at you with all the hope in the world as you gagged at the tongue. “There. Are you really pregnant?”
“Oof.” You blew out a breath. “That’s a toughy.”
“That’s a toughy?” Tom asked in exasperation. You could see his leg bouncing under the table from anticipation but you wanted to drag it out just a little longer.
“Yeah. I mean, I really want to tell you, but this cow tongue also looks really good.” You teased him, making him let out a whine.
“She’s got a point, there.” James nodded, squeezing your hand under the table to congratulate you.
“No she doesn’t!” Tom exclaimed. “Baby? Are you actually pregnant?”
You knew Tom couldn’t take the suspense anymore and broke into a grin.
“Yes.” You told him. “I’m pregnant. We’re pregnant.”
“Really? We’re gonna have a baby?” Toms eyes welled with tears as he covered his mouth with both his hands. He’d been wanting to start a family for a while now but you hadn’t had any luck in conceiving.
Until now.
“Yeah, honey. We’re gonna have a baby.” You reached across the table and rubbed his hand with your thumb before pointing finger guns at the camera. “Keep watching to find out who the father is!”
The audience, who had been busy cheering at your news, switched to laughter.
“She’s kidding. It’s me.” Tom assured the audience.
“He’s kidding.” You insisted. “It’s Benedict!”
“Congratulations to the both of you.” James said sincerely. “I think that just about wraps this up this segment. My producer is going to be very happy with me for getting that information out of you without even asking.”
“You’re welcome.” You smiled at him as he leaned in to press a congratulatory kiss on your cheek. Tom finally broke out of his shocked state and got out of his chair, rushing to you and practically pulling you out of your seat to hug you. His hug was firm but gentle all at the same time, especially around your tummy. He pressed your face into his neck and you heard him sniffle, making you take his hand and put it on your tummy.
“We have about three minutes of commercial break. Excellent job guys.” James said as he got out of his seat. “That was definitely the best Spill Your Guts we’ve ever done. I might have to hire Y/n as a writer here.” He joked.
“Thanks for having us James. All three of us.” You said as you pulled away from Tom. Tom kept a protective hand on your tummy as you rubbed circles on his back.
“I can’t believe you’re pregnant. I’m so happy for you both. That’s beautiful.” James shook Toms hand to congratulate him as well.
“Well when you plank all over someone and don’t use a-
“That’s enough.” Tom cut you off but kept his smile on. “That’s enough for today.”
You leaned into him and took his hand, kissing the back of it as you all walked back towards the main stage.
“Can you believe we met planking on each other for a video and now we’re having a baby?” You asked him.
“I know.” He shook his head in pleasant shock. “We should name our baby BBC, since we met at BBC radio 1.
“You suggesting that tells me you don’t know the other meaning of BBC.” You laughed as you took a seat on James’s couch.
“What’s the other meaning?” Tom looked at you in confusion. You laughed gleefully and patted Toms cheek, always delighted by his innocence.
“Oh, Tom.” You sighed. “I’ll let you google that one.”
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hazel-light · 3 years ago
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Chapter Word Count: ~7,400
Total Fic Word Count: ~30,000
Genre: (Wedding) Fake Dating, Friends to Lovers, lots of bed sharing and every self indulgent fluffy trope possible.
Warnings: None? Lots of fluff? Occasional cussing? Some suggestive themes, moments, and jokes I guess. No smut or anything!
Disclaimer: I am not Daniel Sharman, and I do not pretend to know how he would act, speak, etc. This is fiction okay, there’s a lot of creative license, and potential to be OOC. Ricky isn’t mentioned because I started writing this before we knew he existed, so apologies for that. Also, if you’re DShar himself, please do us both a favor and don’t read this, okay???? Same if you know him 🙈
Title taken from the song Yellow Lights by Harry Hudson which suits this story quite a bit!
A/N: You thought I'd skip all the possibilities and tropes that come with the holidays?! Of course not. This is the final part to Yellow Lights. Thank you all for making my return to writing and posting so wonderful. I am so, so, grateful. I hope the ending lives up to your expectations. <3
The next month and a half passes by uneventfully. I try not to spend all of my time thinking about how great Rachel's wedding was, and equally try to ignore the wistful feeling Henry’s wedding left me with. Having Daniel be my fake boyfriend in front of my family showed me everything that I’d ever wanted; someone who fit in seamlessly, who loved me for me, with the perfect balance of romance and friendship. Whatever crush I had successfully buried when Daniel and I first met is now achingly hard to avoid. I curse my active imagination and optimism for letting me indulge in the moments of pretend, leaning too comfortably into our façade.
As a result, I don’t talk to Daniel much. He is busy finishing filming his project in London, and I try to focus on my life in LA. I’ve become paranoid that every text I send him is one too many, too annoying, or too bothersome. I figure I can reassess things when Daniel comes home from filming, and try to find my footing in our friendship again.
This seems like a solid plan until I’m on Zoom with my family for Thanksgiving. Since I’ve already flown back once this year for the wedding, and I’m planning to fly back again next month for Christmas, staying put for Thanksgiving was the economical choice. The call is mostly uneventful until the subject of Daniel comes up.
“Where’s that boy?” Aunt Judith crows from her spot at the dining table.
“Hmm?” I ask.
“She means Daniel.” Ryan rolls his eyes, bringing the iPad closer to her.
“Oh! Right.” I try to recover. “He’s still away filming his new project, actually, but I was able to fly out to see him at the end of September for another wedding, actually.”
Aunt Judith frowns. “That’s a long time to not see someone that handsome—” I start to laugh, “Are you sure he’s not cheating on you?”
Oh shit. It’s in this moment that I realize Daniel and I had never “broken up” as far as my family knows. I hear the rest of my family start sputtering in the background.
“Aunt Judith— you can’t just—”
“That’s awful, I—”
“It is kind of a long time, huh?—”
I try to keep a straight face. “Guys! It’s okay. He’s an actor, it comes with the territory. I expected this.”
“So you aren’t sure that he’s not cheating on you?” Ryan frowns.
“That isn’t what I meant, Ry. Daniel and I are fine. We’re really good, actually.”
“Well I certainly hope you’ll be bringing him home for Christmas then.” Aunt Judith huffs.
“It would be nice to see him,” Rachel speaks up for the first time, and her husband Nick nods. “I didn’t get to talk to him a whole lot at the wedding.”
I clear my throat, my mind racing. “You know, we haven’t actually talked about what we’re doing for Christmas yet; I’ll have to see what he’s doing— if he’s going to spend it with his family.”
“But you’re still coming home,” Ryan states.
“Yes, I am still coming home, no matter what.”
Ryan and Rachel’s mom, my auntie Kim speaks up. “I think it’s pretty common for a boyfriend to defer to his girlfriend’s family for the holidays. I mean, Ryan splits the day with Katharine of course, but Nick always came here with Rachel.”
“I hear you, Auntie Kim, but Daniel never gets to see his family so I’m not sure— all I’m saying is I’m not sure. He may very well come, and I will let you all know as soon as I know.” I smile tersely.
“Well hurry up, and find out,” Auntie Kim chastises. “Christmas is only a month away.”
When I hang up with them, it’s 7pm and I’m feeling antsy. How could I have forgotten that my entire family still thought Daniel and I were together? I’m not sure how to get out of this one. Tired of panicking alone in my head, I pick up my phone and dial Daniel before I can talk myself out of it. It rings and rings, and my anxiety that he won’t answer grows with each tone.
Eventually I hear rustling on the other line.
“Lauren?” Daniel’s voice crackles through the phone.
“Hi.”
“Are you alright?”
“What? Uh— yeah, I just needed to talk to you about something—” I glance at the time on my phone. “Oh god, no. What time is it there? I’m so sorry— I didn’t even stop to think about the time difference, I—”
I hear him suppress a yawn. “Lauren. It must be pretty important if you’re calling me AND rambling like this.”
“No, no, it can wait, I’m sorry— uh, go back to bed. I’m sorry I woke you up.”
“Lauren,” he stops me softly and firmly. “Stop apologizing. What’s going on?”
I sit quietly, feeling like an absolute idiot.
“Lauren, come on. You can tell me.”
“I— we… we never broke up?”
He laughs. “Sorry, what?”
“We never broke up.”
“Am I still asleep, is this a dream?”
“My family still thinks we’re together and they asked me if you’re coming home for Christmas.”
We’re both quiet for a moment.
“Oh.” is all he says.
“I talked to them for Thanksgiving, and they were asking about you. I realized too late that they thought we were still together— because I never told them we broke up. I didn’t think it through this far.”
“Right, I didn’t either.”
My phone starts ringing, telling me Daniel’s trying to FaceTime me.
I accept, and I’m faced with a dark screen.
“Why are we FaceTiming?”
I hear a lamp click on and suddenly Daniel’s face is illuminated as he lays in bed, lines from his pillow still on his face.
“Figured we should at least be able to see each other if you’re going to break up with me in the middle of the night,” he teases.
I shake my head. “Not funny, this is serious, D.”
“I know, I know.”
“If I break up with you, they’re going to yell at me and tell me I’m a stupid idiot.”
Daniel laughs.
“And if you break up with me they’re going to hate you, which means they’ll hate that we managed to ‘stay friends.’ And if it’s mutual…..” I shake my head, thinking. “They’ll think we were lying.”
“Which we were.”
I sigh, “Which we were.”
“So,” Daniel pulls his blanket up higher. “What are our options here?”
“I don’t know, that’s why I called you.”
I watch him stare off into space and reminisce about when I got to see this sleepy Daniel firsthand in Cape Cod.
“I could come for Christmas…” he trails off and I frown.
“That seems like asking a lot. You’ve already given up a lot of your free time this year for me.”
He shrugs into his pillow. “Do you not want me to come for Christmas?”
I pause. “I mean, that isn’t really the issue here. You have to be tired of being in love with me by now.”
He laughs loudly — a stark contrast to the quiet of his room. “Yes, being in love with you is very exhausting.”
“Tell me something I don’t know.”
“I’m kidding. Being in love with you is not exhausting. At all.”
I roll my eyes and say nothing. “I don’t think I can bear to break your family’s hearts at Christmas of all times.”
“Man of the year.” I drawl. “What are you supposed to be doing for Christmas? Going home?”
“No, usually I travel somewhere, but I hadn't decided yet.”
I hum in response.
“Kind of leaning towards traveling to Massachusetts now, if I’m honest.”
I look at him incredulously, only to see a playful grin on his face, but I know he’s serious.
“I’m not going to stop you if you really want to come. But I—” I swallow. “Eventually we’re going to need to plan for whatever happens after Christmas.”
He nods. “I know, we will. Let’s just enjoy Christmas together, first.”
I smile. “Okay. We can enjoy it. Together.”
He clears his throat. “I hope I’m not too rusty at this boyfriend performance, it’s been a few months.”
“Daniel Sharman has performance issues… I hope that doesn’t get out to the press.”
His eyes flash. “Bold, for you.”
I shrug. “You walked into that one, baby.”
“Well, you’re lucky you’re cute, darling.”
We look at each other for a moment, and I hope my eyes don’t give away how fond I am for this man who is willing to commit to fake-loving me, and putting up with my family, and who is setting the bar way too high for any actual real relationship I could hope for.
So much for reburying my feelings.
I break eye contact first. “I’ll let you get back to sleep. Sorry again for waking you up.”
“Do Not Disturb doesn’t apply to you, Lauren. Call any time.”
I smile softly. “Sweet dreams, I’ll text you tomorrow.”
“Goodnight.”
—-
I’m standing in the Boston Logan airport waiting for international arrivals; specifically Daniel’s flight from London. According to the board, his flight landed 15 minutes ago, so he should be coming to the lobby any time now. I bounce on my feet, simultaneously eager and nervous to see Daniel for the first time since parting ways after Henry and Claire’s wedding.
Eventually I see the hat and sunglasses I recognize from a selfie he sent me earlier, and I can feel my heart race. I begin walking towards him, and feel my pace quicken as I get closer. Eventually he sees me too and he’s grinning at me with his signature toothy smile that I missed so much.
When we come into contact I don’t know what the appropriate response is, so I simply grin up at him.
“Hi,” I breathe.
“Hi,” he smiles back, and before I know it he’s closer than he was before and he’s ducking down to kiss me.
It surprises me but I respond quickly, leaning up to meet him.
When it’s over he pulls back just enough to nuzzle his nose with mine.
“Missed you,” he says softly.
“Missed you most.” I smile.
He stands up straight, adjusting his backpack on his shoulder, threading his other hand through mine.
I can’t see his eyes, but I assume he must be looking around when he speaks.
“Oh, are you by yourself?”
The question catches me off guard.
“Yeah— well, Ryan’s in the car, circling so he wouldn’t have to pay for parking,” I roll my eyes.
He nods, “Sorry, then—“ he makes an inconclusive gesture. “Suppose I didn’t need to kiss you quite yet.”
My stomach drops and I smile tightly, “That’s okay— better safe than sorry. I get it.”
He tugs on my hand pulling me into a hug.
“I did miss you, though.”
“And I still missed you most.” I tease.
Daniel shakes his head, but doesn’t argue, pulling back from me and reaching for his suitcase with his freehand.
“Let’s get this show on the road.”
—-
I bring Daniel upstairs to show him around, and so he can put his suitcase in my room.
“Welcome to my childhood bedroom,” I announce, opening the door and leading Daniel inside.
“Wow, where little Lauren grew up,” Daniel teases looking around. When I first arrived home yesterday, I was quick to tidy up, and hide anything that was too embarrassing, but my room is more or less the exact same as I had left it when I was 18 and moving to college.
I nod. “Yes, many secrets to my backstory can be discovered in here.”
Daniel laughs.
Ryan appears in my doorway leaning against the doorframe.
“Just so you know, Daniel, my bedroom is on the other side of this wall,” he nods to his right. “I can hear everything that happens in here. The walls are thin.”
I frown, blushing, “Ew, Ryan.”
Daniel just laughs and smirks, “Got it, bro.”
I look at him incredulously, “Don’t encourage him.”
The two share a look and shrug, seemingly equally enjoying my discomfort.
“Dinner’s ready!” Auntie Kim calls up to us.
I use that as my cue, brushing past both of them to go downstairs, leaving their laughter behind me.
—-
After Christmas Eve dinner, Katharine stops by and the four of us decide to watch the classic, How the Grinch Stole Christmas. I’m the last to arrive in the living room, and when I enter I immediately notice that Ryan is cuddled up with Katharine, and sprawled out over the entire couch, leaving Daniel sitting in the only other seat— the armchair.
I narrow my eyes at them, “Are you guys for real?”
Ryan looks at us and hums innocently, “What?”
“You took the entire couch.”
I see Katharine bite her lip in amusement, as Ryan shrugs.
“I assumed you guys would cuddle anyway. Can you not share the armchair?”
Daniel intervenes, “Of course we can. C’mon Laur.”
He pats his lap. I hesitate briefly before nestling into his lap, tucking my head into his neck.
“Am I crushing you?” I whisper.
“Not at all, you’re keeping me warm.”
I huff a laugh as he puts the blanket over us and Ryan starts the movie. The steady rise and fall of his chest brings me a sense of peace and I have to try not to fall asleep, especially when his fingers gently caress my arm and my leg where he’s holding me to him. I exhale, turning further into his neck and nuzzling into him.
“Tickles,” he breathes, just shy of a whisper.
“You smell good,” I tell him, letting my eyes close.
His chuckle reverberates through his body. “Thanks, darling.”
I feel my eyes shut and sleep take over. I start to come to when I hear the ending song come on, and it drifts into whatever dream I’m having.
“She asleep?” I hear Ryan ask.
“Think so,” Daniel answers.
“You need help waking her up?”
“No, I’ve got it, thanks though. Nice seeing you, Katharine.”
I hear footsteps retreat and feel a series of kisses pressed to my shoulder, as Daniel’s long fingers brush hair away from my face.
“Time to wake up, pretty girl. You can go back to sleep once we’re in your bed.”
I shake my head no, clinging to him tighter.
“Like this bed.” I murmur drowsily.
He laughs softly. “Promise we can cuddle there too.”
“Promise?” I ask, peeking one eye open.
“I promise,” he confirms, pressing one more kiss to my shoulder.
I lift my head to look at him, rubbing my eyes.
“There she is,” he smiles gently at me.
I smile back sleepily, the words coming out before I fully think them through.
“Wanna know a secret?”
“Tell me.”
I swallow, letting my gaze flicker down to his mouth for just a moment. “I like cuddling with you.”
“You do, huh?”
I nod.
“Well the feeling’s mutual. Let’s go upstairs and brush our teeth so we can cuddle more in your bed.”
“Okay,” I relent, getting off of him. He stands up after me and I instinctively lace my fingers with his, leading us back upstairs. When we’re brushed and changed, we settle ourselves in bed and I claim my spot tucked into his neck again.
“Sweet dreams,” he says, kissing the top of my head. I echo the sentiment and gently kiss the spot on his neck I’m closest to. His arms tighten around me and I’m falling asleep again.
—-
For once, I wake up before Daniel. He looks peaceful as he sleeps on his stomach, his arm across my waist, face half smushed into the pillow. I turn my head to look at the clock to see it’s about 9:30 and know the others will be waking up soon. I turn back to Daniel and card my fingers gently through his hair. Eventually his breathing changes and his eyes flutter open, still clouded with sleep.
“Merry Christmas,” I whisper, our faces just inches apart.
He pulls himself closer to me, nuzzling into my side and closing his eyes again. “Merry Christmas.”
It’s quiet for a moment before he speaks again, voice raspy with sleep. “Is everyone else awake?”
“No, I don’t think so. I haven’t heard anyone up and around… they might be soon. Usually we kind of wander downstairs around 10, and it’s just past 9:30.”
He hums in response.
“You can go back to sleep for a little while if you want,” I offer, still running my fingers through his hair. “I’ll wake you when it’s time to go downstairs.”
I start to think he’s drifted off to sleep again when he opens his eyes and looks at me. “No, I can get up. I want to give you your present.”
I narrow my eyes at him. “I told you not to get me anything; you coming here like this with me— twice— is more than enough.”
He rolls his eyes, detaching himself from me and rolling out of bed. “And look like the asshole who didn’t get his girlfriend anything for Christmas? Not a chance.”
I sit up. “We could’ve lied about it—”
“Lauren,” Daniel looks back at me exasperatedly, leaning over his suitcase. “It’s Christmas. Please just open your present.”
He pulls out a neatly wrapped, thin rectangle and places it in my lap, sitting next to me on the bed.
“Merry Christmas, Laur.”
I carefully unwrap the package to reveal a framed art print, with a circle of stars in the middle; underneath it says “The Night Everything Changed” with the coordinates of what I assume to be Los Angeles. I look up to him with soft eyes, and he gives a one shouldered shrug.
“Saw an ad for this online— where you can get the night sky documented of any night you want, anywhere you want. I thought it would be nice to commemorate this past year, for us…” he trails off, and I hug the frame to my chest.
“Daniel, I love it— Really, really love it. It’s so thoughtful.” I reach out and thread our fingers together. “I’m going to hang this in my room. I want it somewhere I see every day.”
He smiles and squeezes my hand. “I’m glad you like it. I actually wanted to talk to you about something— in relation to this. I—”
We’re interrupted by a light knocking on the door, and we both turn.
“Are you guys awake?” Ryan’s voice calls.
“Yeah, we’ll be out in a sec!” I answer.
I turn back to Daniel who squeezes my hand and moves to get up, but I pull him back.
“They can wait; this is special. I want to hear what you have to say.” I smile at him warmly, but he shakes his head, lifting the back of my hand to kiss it.
“It’s alright, I’d rather wait and tell you when we have more time to talk.”
I frown. “Promise me you won’t forget?”
He laughs. “Trust me, I won’t forget.”
He moves to stand, pulling me up with him to go downstairs, but I stop him, wrapping my arms around him tightly.
“Thank you, D. It means a lot to me.”
He returns my embrace, placing a kiss to the top of my head.
When we pull apart, I take his hand again. “Time for Christmas. Your present is under the tree, by the way.”
Daniel laughs. “A present double-standard.”
I shake my head and lead him out of the room.
—-
I think we’re done with presents when Ryan surprises me, coming over to Daniel and I on the loveseat.
“This is for both of you, kind of.” He hands me a thin, narrow gift.
Daniel looks up, surprised. “Thanks, man. That was thoughtful of you.”
He looks at me, silently asking, did you know about this?, and I shake my head no.
I unwrap the package to find a small frame, with a one hundred dollar bill matted in the middle. I look at Ryan and furrow my eyebrows.
“It's the hundred bucks I said I’d give you if you brought a real date to Rachel’s wedding. Seeing as the same guy is here for Christmas I figured you earned it. Thought I’d frame it— but you can take it out and spend it on a date or something, I don’t care.”
Auntie Kim squints. “Sorry, you told her what?”
I roll my eyes and try to avoid the way my stomach sinks at the reminder of how this all started.
I feel Daniel’s hand on my knee. “Clever, Ryan.”
I look over at him to see him flashing his polite interview smile, and I instantly know he knows exactly what I’m feeling.
Auntie Kim stands and stretches. “I don’t get it, but I’m going to go start breakfast. Your sister and Nick are picking up Judith soon and then they’re coming over. Katharine isn’t coming until dinner, right, Ryan?”
As Ryan confirms, she walks out of the room. Ryan turns back to us. “Mind if I shower first?”
I shake my head no, still lost in my thoughts, and I hear Daniel tell him to go ahead.
We’re left alone and I feel Daniel’s thumb brushing my knee.
“Thank you for my presents.”
“You’re welcome— I’m glad you like them; they don’t beat your present for me though.”
He rolls his eyes and we sit for a moment, the framed hundred dollar bill still in my hands.
“Penny for your thoughts?”
I look at him and shake my head. “I don’t know. Just an odd reminder of how this started, and that it’s going to have to end soon, I guess.”
Daniel frowns. “We haven’t really gotten to talk about that. Why don’t we table that for later— we still have a nice day ahead of us. Those are problems for tomorrow.”
I nod and smile at him, and he pulls me in to kiss my temple, and I hear the click of an iPhone camera. I look up to see Auntie Kim in the doorway.
“Sorry, I just wanted to tell you that the coffee’s on. It was too cute not to capture.”
Daniel stands up, offering me his hand. “Make sure you send me a copy. I’ll have to add it to my collection.”
I chuckle as I stand. “Let me guess; the album is called ‘Cute and Shit.’”
He grins. “How’d you know?”
—-
Christmas flies by. It’s filled with good food, wine, and everyone I love. It’s hours after dinner, and Auntie Kim has already driven Aunt Judith home before going to bed herself.
Ryan, Katharine, Daniel, and I are all still seated around the dining room table playing some kind of team card game, and everyone’s faces are red from laughter and wine.
I can’t help but watch Daniel, who is in some kind of hilarious argument with Ryan over some card he pulled. His eyes shine from the light of the chandelier, and his smile is big and bright, taking over his whole face.
It hits me in this moment that I’ve surpassed unlabeled romantic feelings; I am truly in love with this man. The realization consumes me until Katharine knocks her shoulder into mine giggling.
“Can you believe we love these idiots?”
“Sometimes it’s a hard pill to swallow,” I tease, giggling, catching Daniel’s eye mid-argument. He winks at me and I feel my already red cheeks flush even deeper.
“You two are so cute,” Katharine continues, watching our interaction. She lowers her voice, whispering to me behind her wine glass. “I was kind of worried that when you got a boyfriend he wouldn’t mesh well with our dynamic, ya know? But it kind of feels like Daniel’s always been here.”
Her words vocalize the thoughts that have been ringing in my head all day. “I know what you mean.”
Katharine dramatically clears her throat. “Are you two done? Is it our turn yet?”
—-
We part ways from Ryan and Katharine in the hallway, giggling and shushing each other in the wee hours of the morning. I shut my door behind me and waggle my eyebrows at Daniel.
“Uh oh, there’s trouble,” he teases. “Planning to seduce me?”
I shrug exaggeratedly and he laughs before looking around. “Fuck, where are my sweatpants?”
I giggle. “They’re literally right behind you on the chair.”
“Oh, thanks.” He grabs them before looking at me. “Can I change in here tonight?”
I flush. “Yeah, sure.”
After sharing a room together all this time, this is the first time we’ve changed in front of each other and the thought makes my skin tingle. I make my way over to my dresser, pulling out my own sleep shorts and t-shirt. I wiggle out of my pants and pull on my shorts, glancing over my shoulder to see Daniel, shirtless, adjusting his sweatpants on his hips. My throat runs dry, and I turn around to pull my own shirt over my head, reaching behind me to unclip my bra once it’s on. I bundle my discarded clothes in my hand, walking over to toss them in the hamper. I turn around to find Daniel already looking at me. He’s still shirtless and my eyes drift to his defined chest. He looks down as if noticing for the first time.
“It’s really, uh, hot in here.” He speaks again. “Would it bother you if I slept shirtless?”
I shake my head, mentally screaming. “No, it is warm,” I agree, reaching up to put my hair in a bun on top of my head.
He watches me intently, and I laugh self consciously. “What?”
“Nothing. Just thinking about how this was the best Christmas I’ve had in a while.”
My face lights up. “Really?”
“Yeah.” I see his grin quirk up, and know something else is coming. “I’d say it was almost perfect.”
“Oh?” I question, finishing my bun. “Go on.”
“We fit in a lot of classic traditions today, but we missed one that I’m quite fond of.”
I look at him, trying to think of what it could be, as he takes a step closer to me.
“There wasn’t any mistletoe.”
I swallow. “There wasn’t.” I pause, my mind racing. Before I can fully think it through I find myself offering, “But we could pretend?”
“Hmm?” He murmurs, taking a step closer to me so he’s right in front of me now. I know he’s giving me a chance to take it back, or make a joke; I’m nervous, but I don’t want to take it back. I just really want to kiss him.
“I’d really like it if you had a perfect Christmas.”
“And you?” He questions softly. “What would make it a perfect Christmas for you?”
Instead of answering him, I reach up on my tiptoes to kiss him for a moment, pulling back to look him in the eyes. His eyes meet mine in some unspoken understanding, and then he’s dipping down to kiss me again.
He kisses me softly, delicately, like all the kisses at the wedding. He pulls back briefly to look at me, as if he still expects me to change my mind. I kiss him again, wanting there to be no doubt in his mind, and he kisses me back with purpose and passion, and I’m caught off guard by the weight of it. I gasp, and Daniel uses this opportunity to deepen the kiss, pulling me closer. It reminds me of our very first kiss back on his couch. My arms move around his neck, pulling our bodies flush together.
Daniel pulls away first, but barely, breathing hard, kissing down from my jaw to my neck.
This is definitely new territory for us.
I move my hands to his hair, and he groans at the feeling. I can’t help myself as I sigh breathlessly, a shiver running down my back. He grins against my neck, his teeth scraping at my skin and I moan softly.
“Wait,” I say breathlessly, a thought somehow flitting through my mind. “Earlier, didn’t you say there was something else I should know about my present?”
“I can tell you tomorrow,” he murmurs into my neck between kisses. “It’s time for bed.” He tugs me down onto the bed so I’m underneath him, resuming his kisses on my neck.
“This doesn't seem like going to sleep to me,” I tease.
“It is, shhhh, you’re dreaming.”
“That I’d believe,” I laugh, and Daniel smirks, moving so we're eye to eye again.
“Dream about me often?”
“Shhh.” I pull him closer, turning his words back on him. “You’re dreaming, go back to bed.”
“Happily,” he murmurs, kissing me again.
I bring my hands down to his bare shoulders, feeling his warm, toned skin against my fingertips. I gently drag my nails down his chest to his stomach, and I feel his muscles clench at my touch. I can’t help but smirk to myself as he pulls away to rest his forehead on my shoulder, letting out a shuddering breath. I bring my nails around his back, tracing up his taut muscles and across his shoulder blades.
I feel one of his hands come down, pushing my shirt up, his mouth pressing hot kisses to my abdomen. His nose takes over pushing my shirt up, exploring every new inch revealed with his mouth, his hand now running over my thigh, fingers squeezing occasionally, slowly climbing higher. As his hand reaches the bottom of my shorts, he lightly tugs at the fabric. He pauses, his blue eyes tentatively peering up at me.
“Can I…?” He looks nervous, like I’ll reject him. As if I have ever rejected him, or could ever manage to deny him. I’m not even entirely sure what he’s asking but I find myself nodding quickly. As he goes to tug my shorts down we hear a bang on the wall we share with Ryan followed by a crash, a “Shhhh” and a “Shit.”
We both startle and look over toward the wall, before looking back at each other and laughing softly.
“Ugh, I don’t want to know,” I say, shaking my head.
“You probably, definitely don’t.” He smiles at me before pulling his hand off my shorts, and my shirt back down, letting his fingers trace along the waistband of my shorts before he clears his throat. “We should, uh, get some sleep.”
I blink at the abrupt change in mood before nodding awkwardly. “Okay, sure.”
He rolls off of me, and I reach over to shut the lamp off. I’m hesitant to cuddle up to him, unsure if what just happened changed something between us, but I’m relieved when I feel his arm wrap around me the way it always does. Neither of us say anything, and I try not to think about the last few minutes, the firmness of his body behind mine, or the way my body’s buzzing— closing my eyes to try and get some rest.
—-
The next two days with my family go pretty much the same way as Christmas did. Daniel gets on swimmingly with everyone, and my heart aches every time I realize that once the holidays are over, our charade is going to come to an end—a permanent end— this time. I try to ignore that thought and enjoy my time, basking in the coupley moments in front of my family, and leaning into every touch we share.
I never get a chance to ask about my Christmas present; the time never feels right, and Daniel doesn’t bring it up either. Nothing happens between us like Christmas night; when bedtime rolls around we change in the bathroom and go straight to bed. We cuddle, but there’s no after-dark kisses or wandering hands. I wonder if Daniel feels as self-conscious about that night as I do; if he does, he doesn’t show it.
—-
We’re in my room packing to go back to LA in an effort to try to beat the inevitable New Year’s rush at the airport.
“I need to find something to wrap this in so it doesn’t break in my luggage,” I frown, holding up Daniel’s present. “It’s my new prized possession— nothing can happen to it.”
Daniel looks over and laughs. “Want me to wrap it in my sweatpants? That's what I did on the way here.”
“Okay, thank you.” I pad across the floor and pass him the frame, our fingers brushing in the process.
“Of course.” His lips quirk up as he carefully arranges the frame in his suitcase.
A moment passes, and I wonder if now is a good time to ask about my present .
“Hey, I’ve been wanting to ask—“
“Oh, I’ve been meaning to ask you—“
We both stop mid-sentence and Daniel laughs, “Sorry what were you saying?”
I shake my head, courage gone. “No— sorry, go ahead.”
He looks at me curiously but continues, “Henry texted me; he and Claire invited us to their New Year’s Eve party. They’re having it in LA this year.”
I quirk an eyebrow. “Us? They want me to go?”
He shrugs. “Yeah, Claire apparently requested your presence specifically.”
“Oh, that’s nice of her. I usually stay in for New Year’s.”
“It could be fun— if you aren’t sick of me yet,” Daniel teases.
“Ha!" I laugh, "If you aren’t sick of me yet, more like.” I shake my head. “And don’t mind sharing your friends with me.”
“They’re basically your friends now, too,” he argues.
“I’m not sure one wedding constitutes that, but I appreciate the sentiment.”
“You should come.”
I stop and look at him.
“I’ll call a car and pick you up on the way.”
When I hesitate, he softens his voice. “Please come.”
I swallow, “Okay.”
I’m not a big party person, but I also know I don’t have it in my heart to deny him, especially after everything he’s done for me.
He grins. “Really?”
I nod. “Yeah, I’ll go.”
“Cool, I’ll, uh, let them know we’re coming.”
I bite my lip to suppress my smile and start planning my outfit in my head.
—-
When we arrive at Claire and Henry’s house on New Year’s Eve, I try not to gawk at the size. It’s massive and sits high on one of the tallest hills in LA, away from the noise of the city.
The first person to spot us as we walk in is, unfortunately, Eleanor. I’d hoped she was in London, and away from us, but alas.
“Daniel!” she squeals, throwing her arms around him. “I was so hoping you’d be here.”
“Hi, El,” he placates her with a strained smile. “You remember Lauren?” He gestures back to me.
“Laura?” she asks, disinterested.
“Lauren,” I correct, forcing myself to smile. “Nice to see you again.”
“Eleanor,” Daniel intervenes. “Could you point us in the direction of Henry and Claire, perhaps?”
She frowns, but quickly covers it up. “They were in the kitchen last I checked— we have just got to catch up later.”
“We will!” He agrees graciously. “Let us get a drink, and I’m sure we'll have plenty of time to talk later.”
Daniel puts a hand on my back, guiding me forward and into another room, which turns out to be the kitchen. He’s immediately drawn into a series of bro hugs and handshakes by Henry and some of his other friends.
“Lauren! I’m so glad you came!” I turn to find Claire by a table of beverages.
“Claire! So nice to see you, thank you for inviting me.”
“Thank you for coming,” she says, pulling me into a quick hug. “I told Daniel he just had to bring you.”
I laugh. “He told me you were quite persistent— I usually have a low key New Year’s at home, but this is a fun change of pace.”
“Can I get you a drink?” She asks, already reaching for a bottle of champagne.
“Sure, thank you.” I catch Daniel’s eye across the room; he’s being clapped on the back and led out of the kitchen. I smile reassuringly, hoping to communicate that I’m fine here. He seems to understand, as he smiles back and nods before turning back to his friends.
Claire giggles, bringing my attention back to her.
“You look at him with such heart eyes, it’s cute.”
I try to keep my face from panicking. “Sorry?” She laughs like my reaction is the funniest thing in the world. “Oh don’t worry, he looks at you just the same, so you’re fine.”
I chuckle nervously. “I think maybe you’ve got the wrong impression—”
She shrugs like we’re talking about something commonplace, like the weather.
“Maybe, it’s possible... but I don’t think so. Now come! There’s some other girls I’d love for you to meet.”
—-
I spend a good portion of the night talking with Claire and her friends. They’re all very kind to me, but eventually I excuse myself to get some air out on the balcony.
I’m looking up at the sky — it’s dark, dotted with faint stars and a distant passing plane — when I hear somebody come out and join me. As they settle next to me against the railing I immediately know who it is just by how comfortable I feel.
“Whatcha doin out here, LaurLaur? The New Year’s only a few minutes away.”
I grin at him. “Just getting some air and admiring the stars. From up here you can actually see them.”
He hums, looking up with me.
“It reminds me of a certain piece of art a certain someone got me for Christmas.”
He chuckles. “I’m glad you like it so much.”
“It was very thoughtful…. I wonder if any of the stars are in the same places as they were that night.”
“Which night?”
“The night everything changed. Your birthday.”
Daniel leans against the railing facing me, and looks like he’s about to say something before he changes his mind.
Eventually he speaks again. “Things are going to change again soon, right? You said you’re sure about the break up?”
I swallow, scoffing my shoe against the balcony floor.
“I mean, we still need to figure it out, but you can’t keep fake dating me forever. That isn’t fair to you.”
He smiles wistfully. “It’s not like there was anyone else I was trying to date.”
“I’m a lucky girl,” I lament, and Daniel blushes and shakes his head. “It’s a real shame we’re over, though," I jest, trying to lighten the mood. "I’ve never gotten to kiss anyone at midnight.”
His eyebrows raise in surprise. “Never?”
“Nope,” I pop the p and look down at my feet.
“Well.” He clears his throat conspiratorially. “We can agree not to bring our fake relationship into the New Year if you want, but if the kiss starts before midnight, I think we’d get by on a technicality...”
I laugh. “You really want Eleanor to hate me, don’t you?”
He grins cheekily and shakes his head. “Nah, I think I saw her latched onto some other poor bugger inside. We’re in the clear.”
I roll my eyes, looking back up at the sky. I feel his finger trace my arm, gently using my elbow to turn my attention back towards him.
His voice is softer now, “It’s up to you, but there’s no one else I’d rather kiss at midnight.”
I look into his eyes and realize he’s being sincere. My heart’s beating out of my chest. Yes, I want to kiss him, but I want it to mean something. I keep giving in because I know one day this is all going to go away, and I’ll be left with just my memories and heartache.
He must see some hesitance in my eyes, because he’s taking a step back.
“If you don’t want to, it’s fine. Really.” He shoves his hands in his pockets. “Not trying to pressure you into doing something you don’t want to do.”
I shake my head. “It’s not that I don’t want to, I just…” I trail off, looking over the balcony, trying to swallow my feelings, which have manifested as anxious tears in my eyes. I feel a tear escape, and I hastily reach up to wipe it away.
“Hey,” Daniel says gently. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“You didn’t.” I let out a watery laugh. “Sorry, I don’t know why I’m…”
I feel his steady stare, and I come to terms with the fact that I’ve really gotten myself into a mess that I can’t just smooth over. I’m going to have to tell him.
I take a minute to compose myself, and Daniel stays quiet giving me time to put my words together as I look anywhere but at him.
“I do want to kiss you, D,” I start slowly, trying to keep my voice steady, “but I can’t if it’s just another part of our fake relationship.”
He tugs me closer by hand, gently, so I have no choice but to look at him. I swallow the lump in my throat. “I… know this wasn’t supposed to be real. But it has been, for me.”
He shakes his head and squeezes my hand. “So then stop trying to break up with me.”
I blink at him, and he continues.
“The night everything changed— your star map— I wasn’t referencing the story we told your family about my birthday.” Daniel looks at me long and hard like I’m missing something totally obvious. “It’s actually the stars from a night a month or so later.”
A month or two— Oh. OH.
“The night Ryan FaceTimed me?” I whisper, afraid to be wrong.
He takes my other hand in his, lacing our fingers together. “Listen— Fuck. I’m in love with you, Lauren.” He looks at me so intensely and my head is spinning. “I love you, and I’m in love with you.”
“What?” I ask dumbly.
He licks his lips. “A wise woman once said to me, you don’t confess to ‘kind of like someone’ when you’ve already been friends as long as we have.”
I stare at him for a second, my cheeks burning. “Well your friend sounds pretty smart.” I swallow. “Because I love you, too.”
He laughs, relief flooding his features. He pulls me to his chest, crushing me and squeezing the air out of my lungs. Eventually he pulls back, hands cupping my face.
He grins and shakes his head. “She is smart, so, so smart, but I don’t want to be her friend anymore.”
“What do you mean?” My brows furrow in confusion, worried that somehow I’ve misread this whole interaction, my relief quickly being replaced by panic.
“Well.” He steps forward, keeping our faces incredibly close. “I’m hoping she agrees to be my very real girlfriend— that is, if she doesn’t break up with me first.”
I hear everyone inside start the countdown to midnight. I’m still looking into Daniel’s eyes in disbelief, my hands clinging to the front of his shirt.
When the countdown hits one, I’ve finally found the words I want to say.
“Happy New Year, boyfriend.”
He’s grinning as he kisses me, and I am too. It’s not our most elegant kiss, a mess of teeth and giggles, and whispered “I love you”s. We never stray too far from each other’s lips, kissing again and again like we can’t get enough— and maybe we can’t.
Eventually, we calm down a bit, and when we kiss this time it’s all-consuming, sucking the air out of my lungs. It feels like my love is fizzling to the top of my skin, and I feel it. ‘It’ being every indescribable emotion in our kisses this past year, but this time I know what it is: true, unadulterated, uninhibited love. I am in love with my best friend, who is now my boyfriend, and I don’t care who knows it— as long as he does.
His fingers press bruisingly into my hips before he pulls back just enough to look at me.
“Can we go home?” He whispers sheepishly, brushing some hair out of my face tenderly. “I’m kind of tired of sharing you with the public.”
I huff a laugh. “I know exactly what you mean.” I lean forward to kiss him one last time before pulling back to lace our fingers together, squeezing tightly. “Please— take me home, D.”
I don’t have to tell him twice.
---
tagged: @rogershoe @heyrowena @yunsh-17 @trenko-heart @dylxnshxrmxn
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wizkiddx · 4 years ago
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without making this a sap story ive had some not so great news from home and am in one of them moods to not talk abt it. but i need a tom h to hug me , pls could u write something like that?
hey anon - i am sending u all my love, and hope things get a little easier for u as soon as possible. if u ever do wanna chat abt nothing or rant just send me a pm x  I hope this is at least somewhat what u were looking for <33
summary: life is sometimes not good, but your fave boy makes it just a little easier to deal with (with some original help from his brother too)
a bit angsty but i promise mainly fluff (and a popcorn fight?)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
What drew you out of the sort-of-trance was a two soft but firm knocks at the door - well Tom’s bedroom door. You’d been relaxing with him and Harry, watching the new ‘Line of Duty’ when your mum had called for the daily catch up. Admittedly, she had already tried to call you twice today but somehow you’d managed to miss both of them. On reflection, possible not that shocking because you’d been at a charity golf day with the boys which involved a fair amount of noise, chat and competition. 
Thankfully the boys had both done pretty well, Tom coming slightly ahead but that was the norm between the two. It meant they were both happily basking in their relative victories and not moody and grumpy like they are oh so often when things go wrong. Because to them, against your pleading, begging and sometimes lecturing…. golf was not just a game.  
You and your mum had always been very close, so usually speaking to her was uplifting and made you feel a little bit more complete - what with travelling with Tom for work, her voice was a slice of home. This time though, it was not so much the case. It was just sad news about your home town. Nothing directly to your family or close friends but still, it makes you feel generally down. 
Who knows how long it’d been since you’d hung up on the phone, just staring at the wall opposite. Everything felt just hollow and empty, lacking in meaning somewhat. You weren’t necessarily thinking, more like devoid of emotion, of thoughts, of anything. Just a bit cold. 
“Y/n…Y/n?” His voice sounded hesitant, as though scared he was interrupting your call. When you didn’t respond, the door cracked open and his fluffy head poked in, not that you noticed - your brain was still half absent. Tom on the other hand, was instantly looking you up and down, very much confused as the why you looked so rigid and not present. Noticing the phone was lying quiet on the bed in front of you, he felt safe to enter. He made a beeline for the bed, perching himself down on the edge, in-front of you - so he was blocking your fascinating view of the grey wall opposite. 
“What’s going on in that little head of yours?” His voice was soft and gravely, choosing not to put much energy into his vocal box as he rubbed up and down one of your arms. 
“Hmmm? Sorry, was miles away.”
“Could tell darl.” As he chuckled his eyes crinkled round the outside. “How was your mum?”
“Yeh…um okay, I-I guess.” As much as you wanted to shake yourself out of it, it just wasn’t that easy. Everything was laced with this underlying chilliness. 
“You sure? You dont really sound it?” 
“No, I um…well I’m not sure. I think I’m okay?”
“What happened?” You shook your head in response, making Tom press his lips together with a small nod. “ Don’t wanna talk about it huh?” 
“Not… not right now. Please?” 
With a permitting nod, Tom stood up and squeezed your hand, urging you to follow. Trailing behind him into the living room, he then instructed you to take a seat on the sofa adjacent to Harry, Tom himself disappearing back into the house. It made you pout a little, you wanted him to just look after you a little this evening but that self pity wasn’t allowed to last long - because a piece of popcorn flew into your cheek. You whipped your head around, with mouth open feigning shock, to see Harry smirking at you cradling a bowl full of other possible missiles in hand. 
“And what was that for?” He shrugged his shoulders, turning his head back to the TV.
“You looked sad.”
“…” Your mouth was open, no words coming out though, as you looked at the frizzy haired boy in bemusement. Sometimes you thought you understood how his head worked but at other points, the boy was a bloody mystery. Instead of explaining his thought process (because there almost certainly wasn’t one), he just smiled evily at you - wiggling his brows. And I know you know what that meant.
Sure enough by the time Tom reentered the room, arms full with different objects he’d collected round the house, the floor had been littered with popcorn kernels. You and Harry were squealing at each other as handfuls of the snack were catapulted vaguely at each other as you chased him round the room. It took Tom shouting at the both of you for you to freeze, slowly lowering your hands in ceasefire with a giggle. 
“I leave you alone for two minutes.”
“ It was his fault!” You protested, causing a 5 minute of ‘ he said-she said’ between the two of you, even if Tom wasn’t listening to the bickering. Instead, he quickly whizzed round the room picking up all the obvious popcorn bits and then spread out all the blankets he’d got from round the rented house on the sofa.
 You knew Harry, in his very own and special way, was only doing all this to cheer you up and you couldn’t appreciate it more. Your relationship with him had recently got so much closer, thanks to Tom being busy on set actually filming - while you and Harry just had some quality ‘almost sibling’ times. And now living with him too - naturally he had grown to know your tells almost as well as Tom. 
“Alright children calm down… thought we could watch movie?” Plopping himself down on the cream seat, Tom made grabby hands to you which of course you had to comply with. 
“I’ll um… I’m gonna leave you to- well to the being in love shit. It’ll make me chunder”
“We love you too bro” Tom called to Harry, who was already on his way out - but the tone of gratefulness in his voice was evident, he appreciated Harry noticing that the two of you could do with time together. 
“Don’t make it weird!” Harry’s response had you sniggering, as you pulled the fluffiest blanket over both you and Tom and nestling into his side. 
After a few minutes of Tom pretending to argue with you about film choice, before ultimately agreeing with your choice of ‘La la land’ as he always planned on letting you. The Holland boys were both very talented at subtly being a shoulder if needed, and yes you knew it was all an act - but you weren’t about to call him out. About halfway through he kissed the crown of your head and murmured. “Can tell you’re not watching darling.” He wasn’t wrong to be fair. Yes, you were looking at the screen - but your mind was far away from the plot line. 
“Sorry I um… minds like a runaway train sometimes.” Tom released a breathy chuckle at that before murmuring a ‘come ‘ere’ to you as he all but lifted you up from sitting by his side. You ended up lying almost onto of him, with both of Tom’s strong arms holding you tightly to him. Smiling into his chest, you nestled closer so the soundtrack to the movie played over the top of his constant thudding heartbeat. It took a few moments of you both just staring into the screen, completely contented for Tom to speak, squeezing you slightly tighter whilst the two of you watched Ryan Gosling and Emma Stone twirling on the road.
“I gotchu now lovie” 
And you swore then that all the thoughts racing in your mind were outpaced by those of a different kind. Still intense ideas, ones that buzzed round your brain, but these were happy. Thoughts of ‘how could I be so lucky’ and ‘I love this man with my whole heart’. 
Apparently these thoughts were also a comfort because when Tom looked down at you after what must’ve been at least half an hour, you were spark out. Breathing deep and unchanging, eye locked shut and mouth slightly squashed against his chest so your lips were pressed together. But what made the boy physical pout was the way you relaxed hand was loosely balled round a fistful of his purple hoodie. As if you were clutching at him to keep him as close to you as possible. 
He felt so grateful - not only for you, but also for the fact that he had the ability to make it a little better. You didn’t need him - Tom swore you were one of the most fiercely independent people he’d ever met - yet it was clear you wanted him. You wanted him when you felt down, the same way you wanted to be around him when you were overly hyper and chatting pure rubbish. You didn’t want him because he was the ‘Tom Holland’ you wanted him because he was Tom. 
He couldn’t fix what was going on back at your home (I mean right now, he still didnt even know what was going on). But he did know how to make everything just a little less shit. He knew how to be your person. 
And that would forever be job Tom was most proud of.
once again sending u all lots of love (esp u anon 💕)
would love to know what u guys think if ya made it this far ;)
tagging (link to join) : @hallecarey1 @hollandfanficlove
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elfenbensord · 4 years ago
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Hey I hope you are doing well. I have missed your writing and wanted to check up. For inspiration for the Loki series could you do something about the reader getting super sick? I understand if you don’t want to. I just have been thinking about your blog and this series💕
sorry if this is a double ask I don’t think my first one went through.
daisies
26.1.21
note: hi, lovely anon! i’m doing well, just went back to school so that’s why i haven’t had so much time/energy to write so much. i’m still really excited about this series, just tryna take things slow at the moment. but you’re so nice for checking in, that made me so happy!!
and you know what this gives me?? ‘you’ve got mail’ vibes! like the last scene, when tom hanks visits meg ryan when she’s sick and he brings her daisies.
loki series masterlist / request! / masterlist
---
“I can’t come in today.”
“Why not?”
 A cough rattles your lungs, making for a sickening sound through the phone. The room seems to bob slightly, like a boat. You close your eyes in protest, hoping the sea sick feeling will go away.
“... You have a point”, he says.
“There’s fries to heat in the freezer. Or just get McDonalds. But don’t be rude to the cashier!” You feel like a mother hen, which doesn’t fail to bug you. Loki’s clear voice tells you that he feels fine, even good. And here you are, feeling like a slow death is coming for you. But still, you're not the one getting fries for lunch.
Life isn’t fair, you think.
You can still hear him breathing down the mic of the phone. A stubborness in you eggs you to keep going, to be the last to hang up. Another cough rattles through you. Loki says nothing. You wonder if you’re gonna die here on the phone to him. There are worse ways to go, you guess.
“Fine. See you tomorrow.” He sounds harsher than he means to.
You’re already half asleep.
---
The shrill ring of your phone wakes you from a much needed slumber. The caller id says ‘Loki’. If it didn’t hurt so much, you’d roll your eyes.
“I’m coming over.” He close to shouts the words the second you pick up.
“You’re what?” you cough. 
“You’re clearly not well.”
“You’re really bored, aren’t you?” If you’d had the energy, you’d smirk.
The silence that follows confirms your theory.
“... I’ll be there in half an hour.”
---
Loki makes it to your apartment in less than the thirty minutes promised. You’re impressed -- with the state of the traffic, he’s done the seemingly impossible. But it also gave you less time to hurryingly trying to tidy up the mess in your apartment.
He arrives, all bright-eyed and slightly out of breath. He must’ve walked the final distance between your home and the closest subway station. His lungs heave in, out, in, out, with fully functioning breathing. A strong feeling of jealousy flares up within you. Jealousy mixed with… something else. Something warm. You let it linger.
“Hi.”
His eyebrows draw together. “Why are you standing up?”
“Well, I had to let you in.”
He looks at you, after close to forcing his way through the door. It’s an undeniably soft look. He reaches his hand out, touching your arm ever so slightly.
You sniffle.
“You should go lie down now”, he says softly.
“Okay, mum”, you mumble, trudging off to fall into your bed. 
He gives you a look for that final comment as he shrugs off his coat and neatly places it on the coat hanger by the door. He reaches into his coat pocket, and takes out a bouquet of daisies. 
He looks at you, almost bashful about the sweet gesture.
It’s enough to bring tears to your eyes. You're not yourself today. All your hard outer shell has been removed, leaving a soft and gooey center.
It suddenly becomes hard for you to meet his eyes. Loki doesn’t seem to have the same problem. He watches you with a tentative gaze, waiting for you to accept the flowers.
“I thought you’d like it because of that movie… ‘Collect your post’”, he says.
Collect your post?
Then, it suddenly clicks, “Do you mean ‘You’ve got mail’?”
“Yes.”
You remember when you watched it together. It was early days, really early days. Loki had mentioned briefly how he’d never seen a whole Midgardian movie, and you’d found it to be up to you to change that. But where do you start, with all the films ever made? You decided that Meg Ryan and Tom Hanks in Nora Ephron’s classic ‘You’ve got mail’ was the way to go. But you didn’t think Loki would remember that much about it, especially not since he’d forced you to pause the movie during several occasions, so he could go into the kitchen to calm down from the cringe of the big misunderstandings between the two main characters. In summary, you didn’t think he’d liked it, or even remembered it.
But he did. Another one of those warm, fuzzy feelings bubble up inside you before you have the chance to push down. 
This is ridiculous, you find yourself thinking. You’re like two bumbling teenagers, trying to figure how to act around each other again. Now that you’re more than you were before. Nothing has changed, yet it feels like everything has.
You pluck slightly at the petals of the small, white flowers. “Thank you. They’re lovely.”
He smiles the tiniest smile. “I’m glad you like them.”
---
A grey haze settles over the evening, as your fever turns worse. Loki is there. Around dinner time, he makes you some kind of soup. You don’t remember what he said it was called, but you remember the taste. Like saffron and golden butter. It tasted divine, out of this world. A bit like him. 
After dinner -- did you watch a movie as well? You can’t remember -- he left you to sleep. 
When you wake up the next day, you feel close to restored. Your fever isn’t as dramatic, and the cough is close to gone. 
There’s a note on your bedroom table. You recognise it as Loki’s neat scribbles. It’s beautiful, with long, swiping gestures. Penmanship fit for a prince. The words written make you smile. They’re careful, and trying, and very new, coming from him. Your mind sticks to the way he’s written ‘Darling’ and referred the rose coloured word to you. The last sentence easily brings a smile to your lips. 
Be well, darling. 
I miss you.
---
taglists
permanent: @rocking-like-a-ravenclaw / @kapolisradomthoughts / @siriusement / @classy-sith-lady / @hermione-who / @theseuscmander / @sleepingalaska / @moatsnow / @trueheroesneverdie
loki series: @lucywrites02 / @delightfulheartdream / @emilythezeldafan / @shesakillerkween
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jaynaneeya · 3 years ago
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The Headless Criminal
First of all, Headless: A Sleepy Hollow Story, the next big Shipwrecked Comedy project, is getting very close to its Kickstarter goal, so if you haven’t checked that out yet, and you’re seeing this before July 18, 2021 at 7:00 pm PDT, head to this link, and consider contributing a few bucks if you can.
Second of all, as soon as Ryan Garcia was revealed as one of the heads, I knew I needed to write a sequel to the fic I wrote a few years ago about time traveling Eddie’s ghost. If you want to read it, it’s here, but it’s very long, so in summary: Eddie is brought back as a ghost against his will after the events of Poe Party and is told that he has to either complete his unfinished business or forget about it in order to move on. He learns how to time travel and encounters James and Lily from kitr, who remind him of Edgar and Annabel, so he decides to ruin their lives, which leads to him bringing Lily back in time with him. She keeps meeting and falling for people who remind Eddie of Poe, so he has to keep breaking them up for revenge, and definitely not at all because he’s jealous. When Lily dies as Vivian Nightingale, Eddie realizes that he has to go back and establish her memorial ball so the events of Poe Party will happen the way they’re supposed to, and we left him hoping that this would complete his unfinished business. So here’s what I’m currently imagining happens next:
Eddie was out of ideas. He had gone back in time, established the Vivian Nightingale Memorial Ball, even orchestrated the meeting between his living self and Oscar Wilde just to make sure everything happened the way it was supposed to, and still he could not move on to the other side. Perhaps that psychic had been wrong about unfinished business. Perhaps being summoned as a ghost was permanent.
He went back to the future and haunted Lily’s grave again. Part of him wanted to find a way to bring her back, but to his surprise he found that his biggest reservation was that he didn’t want her to also be stuck with no way to find peace. This made no sense, of course. Eddie reminded himself that he wanted her to be miserable, because she reminded him of Annabel, and well… now that Eddie thought about it, that didn’t make any sense either. “Ugh, what am I even DOING with my afterlife?” he shouted, kicking her headstone in frustration.
Suddenly, the cemetery began to melt away. Had Eddie lost his ability to control his time travel? He felt a peculiar sensation in his neck, and he looked down to find that his body had disappeared. He quickly shut his eyes and begged everything to return to normal, but when he opened them again he found himself in an unfamiliar room, face to face with someone unpleasantly familiar.
“Well, well, well,” Eddie sneered. “Edwin. Allan. Poe.”
The other man furrowed his brow in confusion. “I thought Poe’s first name was Edgar,” said a voice behind Eddie that he thought sounded like Lenore.
“Are you sure it wasn’t Edward?” asked the man who looked like Poe but clearly was not.
“Good thing you’re a science teacher and not an English teacher,” quipped the Lenore double as she wandered into Eddie’s line of sight.
Eddie felt like he’d landed in his own worst nightmare. He wanted to leave, but his limbs seemed reluctant to move when he willed them to. “Where am I?” he demanded. “And who are you? And why can’t I-?” Eddie was interrupted by his own arm, which had finally decided to move, but not the way he’d wanted it to, and he ended up whacking himself in the face. When he glared at the offending arm, he noticed that it bore absolutely no resemblance to the arm he was normally attached to.
“I’m Ichabod Crane, and this is our – well, my – I mean, it’s my house, and it might be yours, too. My roommate doesn’t have a head, you see, and we found yours hidden under some floorboards in a haunted house. Matilda’s a witch and she knows how to attach heads to bodies, so that’s how you got here.”
Ichabod smiled in what he clearly thought was a friendly manner, but all Eddie saw was a smirk. Roommates with Poe’s doppelganger? Even if this had been his body, which it obviously was not, he wouldn’t have been able to stand it. Using all his willpower to remain calm, Eddie began, “I am most certainly not your roommate, and this is not my-”
He was interrupted once again, this time by a scream from the doorway. Eddie was prepared to see someone who reminded him of Annabel, but he was unprepared for the startled look of wide-eyed astonishment on her face. She recognized him.
Ichabod rushed over to her. “Kat, darling – I mean, not darling, that’s awkward, I would never call you that – well, not never, but we don’t know each other well en- sorry, I mean, uh… Kat, what’s wrong?”
For a moment, she looked as though she might faint, but instead she spoke, in the same desperately trying to remain calm tone that Eddie had just been using. “That head looks terrible on Headless’s body. It’s clearly the wrong one.”
“True, it doesn’t seem to fit, but I feel like we should at least give him the same courtesy we gave the others and allow him to tell his story-”
“No!” cried Kat, lunging toward Eddie.
Was this somehow Annabel’s ghost? Or was it, could it possibly be… “Lily?” he whispered as she approached him.
Instead of responding, she put one of her hands under his chin, grabbed his hair with the other, and tried to yank his head off of the body. Eddie hadn’t been able to feel physical pain since his death, but this hurt. “Stop! Let me talk to you!” he protested, but she ignored him.
“Ichabod! Matilda! Help me get this hideous head off!” Kat shouted as Eddie yelped in pain and anger. Hideous?
“Do you know this guy, Kat?” Matilda asked, sounding amused.
“Do you?” Ichabod repeated, sounding anxious.
Kat seemed to suddenly realize what she was doing. She released Eddie’s head. After taking a few steps back and a few deep breaths, she said, “Sorry. No, I don’t know him, but I do know that his head doesn��t belong on that body, and I’m so desperate to help you find the right head. We’ve been trying for so long, I’m starting to get frustrated and impatient. So can we please take this head off and try another one?”
Matilda narrowed her eyes suspiciously, but when Kat met her gaze unflinchingly, she shrugged and said, “Well, I certainly agree that this is not the correct head, so I guess you’re right, might as well move on.” She began chanting a spell.
“No, wait!” Eddie cried, but it was too late; a moment later he found himself back in the cemetery, his head reattached to the rest of his ghost.
Was Lily still alive somehow? Or had she come back as a ghost without telling him? That couldn’t have been Annabel; that girl had never been capable of violence, and if she had somehow developed a taste for it in death and now wanted revenge on him, surely she would have tried to strangle him, not pull his head off. But Lily had been his friend. Why wouldn’t she want to see him? If she’d figured out that he’d been sabotaging her, surely she would have confronted him. He resolved to get to the bottom of this. All he had to do was figure out where and when Ichabod Crane lived, and then he could take his whole ghost self there. She wouldn’t be able to get rid of him as easily that way. If nothing else, she at least owed him an explanation. Whether this was Eddie’s final bit of unfinished business or another wild goose chase, only time would tell.
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janesramblings · 4 years ago
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My Darling Daughter
This came from @aceandnancy ‘s drabblefest prompt “Ryan gives Nancy unsolicited advice about not running from love even if you’re scared…forcing her to confront her denial over her feelings for Ace.” There isn’t actually any Ace, but there’s a lot of Ryan/Nancy reconciliation and a lot of talking about Ace. 
“So, where are we going?” Ryan asks me as I pull open the front door of my house.
“Not The Claw,” I say adamently.
“Agreed.” I’m not sure why I agreed to meet Ryan for coffee, but after the whole I’ve got seven days to live thing, it kind of made me realize I want him in my life. “That place would give anyone food poisoning,” Ryan adds, waving his hands in the pocket of his trench coat. I roll my eyes. Well. Maybe we’ll start with small increments. 
We end up agreeing to go to some small coffee place near the water a couple towns over that Ryan grew up going to, and once we get in his car, we talk about anything really. About how the Morgan family already have their Christmas lights up and it isn’t even October yet. And how Mr. Morgan went to school with Lucy. We don’t talk about how I nearly died, or how if anyone found out I’m Ryan’s daughter the Hudsons would probably try to “dispose” of me and Carson would be arrested for kidnapping. Some things are better left unsaid. 
“How do you get your coffee?” Ryan asks me as we enter the line of the surprisingly crowded shop. 
I shrug. “Black usually. With a little bit of sugar.” I’m looking down at my bag, shifting though it to find my wallet, and when I look up I see Ryan looking at me with a weird look. “What?”
“That’s how I take my coffee.”
“Ah. Well, good to know, Dad.” I say it as a joke, bumping against his side with my shoulder, but Ryan’s frozen.
“Dad?”
I pause. The glow on his face is crazy, and I wonder briefly how long he’s been waiting for me to call him that. I shrug. “I mean, you are my dad I guess.”
“You guess?”
“Mhm.”
“Well, that’s good enough for me.”
I smile a little as we step to the front of the line. “Two black coffees please,” Ryan says. 
“Sure thing,” the cashier says. “That will be five dollars.” I pull my credit card out of my wallet, but Ryan’s already handing over his.
“Oh I can-”
“Nancy, please.” Ryan turns to the cashier with a grin. “My daughter thinks she’s too independent for a cup of coffee from her dad.”
The woman grins. “My son is the same way. You’ve got a beautiful daughter.”
“I do,” Ryan agrees. “She looks more like her mom than me though. I guess she got the good genes.”
Normally I’d scoff at this, but it’s kind of nice. Ryan isn’t as bad as he seems. I can tell why Lucy liked him. The woman smiles at us as she hands Ryan his receipt and points us to the pickup counter. 
“So I’m your overly-independent daughter now huh?” I ask as we lean against the counter. Ryan looks down at me with the same expressive eyes I see in the mirror every day. 
“Of course Nancy. And, as your dad I think it’s within my rights to give you some advice.”
“Advice?” Oh boy. Here we go.
“Yes. I ran from the girl I loved. And it cost me nineteen years of misery. Don’t make the same mistake.”
I stare at him. “I don’t love anyone. Not like that anyway.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
“You know Nancy, when I first met you, I didn’t think long hair, earrings, and bad jokes would be your type. But you and Ace have the same aura, you know?”
“That same - what? You think I’m in love with Ace? ACE?”  
“You don’t have to sound so incredulous.” Ryan’s smirking at me.
“I am incredulous! How can you think I’m in love with Ace?” I mean sure, I spend a lot of time with Ace, and we’ve been sitting closer to each other than we usually do and we’ve been eating lunch together at Carson’s loft on Saturdays but that doesn’t mean I’m in love with him. It means we’re good friends. 
Ryan’s smirk grows as we accept our coffee and sit at a corner table. “Right. Because when you have a problem, the first person you talk it though with isn’t Ace. And when something good happens you never celebrate with Ace. And heaven forbid you hang out with Ace when you’re bored.” His voice is laced with sarcasm.
I stare at Ryan openmouthed. He smiles at me. “Your drink is getting cold Nance.” I mechanically reach forward and take a sip of my coffee. 
“Hey Ryan?” I ask after a moment of silence. 
“Yes my darling daughter.” He’s smirking at me again.
“When you fell in love with L- my mom, what was it like?”
Ryan smiles a small, sad smile. “It was like we were puzzle pieces you know? Like we just -”
“Fit together,” I finish.
“Yeah. Yeah, exactly. We used to do escape rooms together. Did you know that?” I shake my head no. “Well, she loved them. She was amazing at piecing together the clues, and I was great at finding where they were hidden. We worked in tandem. Always.”
“Your weakness worked to her strengths. And vice versa.”
“Yeah. Just like you know how to find the evidence, and Ace knows how to crack the code,” Ryan pauses and laughs at his joke. “Literally.” 
I look down at the table, and then up at Ryan. “Did she make you feel, seen? Like, she could see beyond all the rich boy crap?”
“Yeah. Yeah she did.”
“Ace never treated me differently after Kate died. He just listened. He knew what I needed before I knew what I needed.”
“Lucy was the same way. Nancy, you don’t have to date Ace if you’re not ready. You don’t have to do anything. But I don’t want you to feel as if you’ve let him slip through your fingers.”
I nod. I feel like crying for some reason. If I’m being honest, I’ve always been a little afraid that Ryan wouldn’t like me. But I guess he does. And I guess we’re more similar than I thought. 
“Nancy, can we do this again?” Ryan asks as we leave the café a few minute later.
“Of course. And can you drop me off at The Claw instead of my house? I have someone I need to talk to.”
“Of course my darling daughter.” Ryan reaches over to wrap his arm around my shoulders, and for the first time, I fall into him without any resistance.  
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cali-holland · 5 years ago
Text
Interview Trouble- Tom Holland Mini Series
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Pairing: Tom Holland X Reader
Prompt: You and Tom spend a lot of time during interviews denying your secret relationship.
Word Count: 2000
Based On: I Hate Love Songs by Kelsea Ballerini
Warning: a tiny tiny bit of sexual implications
Masterlist    Tom Holland Masterlist
*Gif is not mine*
~~~
“Y/N, you’re on in ten.” Your assistant told you through your dressing room door.
“Be out in a minute!” You called back to her before returning to your phone.
“How do I look?” You asked Tom through FaceTime.
“Beautiful.” He beamed, making you blush. “Do I look alright?”
“You’re going to the pub, you’re not going to an interview.” You teased, “But you look great.”
“Hurry up and come home, darling. It’s not the same without you here.” Tom pouted.
“Three more days.” You told him. “I have to go before they ask why I’m taking so long.”
“I love you.” He replied, blowing a kiss to the camera.
“I love you too.” You blew a kiss back before hanging up the phone. You let out a sigh as you set your phone down and double checked your appearance in the mirror.
Six months ago, you and Tom began your relationship, but decided to keep it out of the public eye. Even before you were dating, there were rumors that you two were an item, so you both knew it’d be better to keep your privacy. With you being a successful musician and Tom being a successful actor, your differing schedules kept you quite busy, but you always managed to find a few days to see each other. 
You exited your dressing room and were ushered on stage for your interview with Ellen. Smiling and waving, you walked out onto stage as music played and the audience cheered. You gave Ellen a welcoming hug and took a seat in your chair.
“Welcome back. It’s nice to see you again.” Ellen greeted you.
“Thank you for having me back. I love coming here.” You smiled.
The interview started off simple with questions asking about your new album. It wasn’t until after the commercial break that the interview steered into dangerous territory with you.
“Your lead single is called “I Hate Love Songs”.” Ellen started and you nodded, letting out a nervous laugh, “So, would you not consider yourself a hopeless romantic then?”
“I think I have some hopeless romantic qualities, but not the big cliche ones. I wrote the song as more of a sweet, satire about love songs.”
“Did you write it with anyone in mind?” She asked teasingly.
“No, I don’t think so.” You laughed. You could feel your cheeks warming up because you definitely wrote that song with Tom as your inspiration.
“You don’t think so? What does that mean?”
“I don’t know. I thought maybe you expected me to have someone in mind. I don’t need to have a boyfriend to write a love song.”
“So you’re single then?”
“Yes.” You lied.
“You’re saying yes, but you’re blushing very hard right now. Anyway, I thought I could help you out with ‘Who’d You Rather?’” She teased.
“Okay.” You let out a laugh and watched as the screen pulled up two photos.
“So, Joe Keery or Timothee Chalamet?”
“Oh, I love Joe so much, but I think I’m going with Timmy.” You stated.
“Alright, Timmy. Timmy or Shawn Mendes?”
“I know Shawn, though.”
“So Shawn?”
“I’ll go with Shawn because I know him personally.”
“You know, this is dating and it’s not real. But anyway,” Ellen said, and you held back a laugh as Tom’s picture came on screen. The cheers from the audience increased as everyone had heard the rumors, “Shawn or Tom Holland?”
“Tom’s a good friend too, though.” You replied.
“Rumor has it you know him well.” She joked, making you laugh.
“Do you want me to pick Tom? Is that what this is?” You asked.
“I’m just saying.” She shrugged teasingly.
“We’ll go with Tom then.” You nodded as the cheering increased.
“Tom or Ryan Gosling?”
“I’ll go with Tom still.” Your somewhat fast response made even Ellen laugh. A few rounds later, you were still on Tom. You knew you had to switch off of him before you said anything too consequential. You also knew that Tom would watch this interview and you were entertained by the thought of him figuring out you chose someone else over him.
“Tom or Niall Horan?” Ellen asked you.
“Ooh,” You let out, thinking about it. “So you see, Niall was always my favorite in One Direction.”
“Is Niall beating out Tom finally? Is Tom going to be upset with that?” You could tell where she was going, trying to get you to spill something about your life.
“Why would Tom be upset?” You replied.
“Well, you know.” Ellen hinted.
“I gotta go with Niall.” You smiled with a shrug, playing off her attempts. The line of photos ended there, signaling the end of the game.
“So I got Niall?” You asked.
“Yes, unless you want to go back and choose Tom.” She offered.
“I’m fine with Niall.”
The next day, you got a call from Tom that began with “So Niall Horan is my competition?”
~~~
Before you could go back to London, you did a Carpool Karaoke session with James Corden. After going through the basic interview questions and a few songs, James shifted the interview’s focus onto your personal life.
“Now, how often do you get to go out and watch a movie? You know, actually go to the cinema and see a film?” James asked.
“I wouldn’t say I go often, but I go whenever there’s a good film out that I really want to see.” You said, already knowing where this was headed.
“Do you go see Marvel movies in cinema? I heard you’re a fan.”
“I try to go see those so that they aren’t spoiled for me. It’s really difficult though because so many people go see them. I’d have to be really inconspicuous.”
“Who would you say is your favorite superhero?”
“That’s tough.” You sighed. Feeling in the mood to tease the fans out there, “I think I’d say Spider-Man. He’s always been so relatable.”
“You don’t have another underlying reason for picking Spider-Man?” James asked with a laugh.
“Nope, definitely not.” You laughed.
“Now, do you currently have a favorite actor?”
“My favorite? That’s a difficult one.” You stated, thinking it through.
“There’s not one specific actor that comes to mind? Not even one specific brunet British actor that you hang out with a lot, who even plays Spider-Man?” James pressed.
“You sound like you have one in mind.” You teased.
“I think I’d go with Tom Holland right now. What do you think about him?”
“He’s a good friend and a good actor too. I’ll say he’s my favorite if you want me to.”
“Would you ever date an actor like Tom?”
“I don’t know.” You stated.
“Is that you actually don’t know or you don’t want to say anything that will lead to rumors?”
“I normally don’t have to say anything for rumors to start.” You joked, making him laugh.
“I think you just started some right there.” He laughed as the music started up again. You knew that this video would spark so many rumors just with that comment.
~~~
A few days later, you and Tom were celebrating you coming back to town. You were at a club in London and definitely thought that the two of you were being sneakier with your actions. You were so caught up in how much you loved Tom that, for a night, you forgot you were trying to be discreet about your relationship; so caught up that you and Tom both thought that you were safe making out in a corner of a crowded club before making your way to a vip room together. That was an issue saved for the next day.
“Tom, answer your damn phone before I throw it out the window.” You mumbled into his chest as he began to wake up.
“Good morning to you too.” Tom chucked. He kissed the top of your head before stretching over to grab his phone from the nightstand.
“Holy shit.” He breathed out, blinking rapidly as his phone continued to get flooded with texts, emails, and all other sorts of notifications.
“What happened?” You asked, sitting up and stretching so he could fully sit up.
“Someone saw us last night.” Tom said, showing you the latest video trending on Twitter. It was the two of you from the club; Tom had you pushed up against the wall with his hands running over your butt as you pulled on his hair. The video ended with you two making your way to the private room. The video was poor quality, but there was no denying who it was. By the end of it, both of you sported messed up hair and Tom was basically wearing your lipstick. You felt sick to your stomach thinking that millions of people have seen that by now.
“I have Graham Norton tonight, and I know I’ll be asked about it.” He groaned.
“There’s no way we can play that off.” You sighed, “I didn’t want to go public yet.”
“I know. I liked having this secret.” Tom ran an anxious hand through his hair.
“You’ve dodged relationship questions before. It’ll be fine.” You gave him a reassuring kiss.
“God, I hope so. I should call my manager. It might be good if you did that too.” He said and you nodded, knowing he was right.
Your managers both came to the same conclusion: don’t discuss it and act like it didn’t happen. Both of you had brushed off relationship rumors before; this was just more difficult to ignore.
Sitting on the couch among a few other celebrities, Tom felt himself feeling more nervous than usual.
“So, Tom, how are you feeling today?” Graham asked right off the bat.
“I’m feeling good. Thanks.” Tom nodded, letting out a nervous laugh.
“You didn’t have too rough of a night? Not hungover or sore or anything?”
“No, my night was fine.”
“Oh, ‘fine’ is how you’d describe it?” Graham turned to the audience, “I don’t know if anyone heard, but Tom had a pretty interesting night.” A photograph of you and Tom last night appeared on screen, causing the audience to cheer. “Y/N just said she was single a few days ago; did you make a move last night or was this a pre-established thing?”
“I don’t- no.” Tom laughed, scratching his neck in an anxious manner. “Photoshop these days, man. Incredible.”
“So that wasn’t a video of you and Y/N getting it on in public?” He teased.
“Definitely not.” Tom shook his head. “Y/N and I are just good friends.”
“I wonder how many girls are out there wanting to be your good friend.” Graham joked, before moving on to ask Tom about his movie. And for that, Tom was grateful.
~~~
“Are you sure about this?” Tom asked, squeezing your hands gently.
“Yes, it’s time we just get it over with. They already know.” You laughed lightly, making him chuckle as well.
You and Tom had decided to finally go public with your relationship by confirming it in the music video for your latest single, “I Hate Love Songs”. You filmed it a few weeks ago, and it would be released today.
Tom held you as you watched over the video one last time before your team posts it. In the video, you walked through the usual cliche scenes of love stories: catching bouquets, romantic movie nights, and kissing in the rain. At the end of the video, the camera cut over to you as you walked over to a large bed. You laid down and winked at the camera, before Tom appeared next to you and pulled you into a kiss.
“What do you think?” You asked as the video ended.
“I love it. And I love you.” Tom smiled.
“I love you too.” You kissed before giving your team the okay to release it. You stayed cuddled up in Tom’s arms as you watched the different reactions flood in. As expected, the media went crazy with the confirmation and the fans were living for the fact that you two were actually together.
~~~
Part Two
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kageyuji · 4 years ago
Note
Some jealous hcs for the mm characters?
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Jumin -
Composed(tm)
He will not say anything really, he just makes sure that he looks his best
Trust Fund Kid really do got some money though
He’ll do whatever he can to make the other person realize firstly, that you’re his and that secondly, he is not one to be messed with
He was sitting in a meeting, wanting nothing more than to be home with you and Elizabeth the third
And so he was texting you the entire time, he had to be present at the meeting but it didn’t necessarily mean he had to pay attention to what was going on
You were texting back, but it was clear you weren’t really giving all of your attention to the conversation
“Are you distracted by something, love?”
“Yeah sorry Ryan’s here.”
R Y A N??? WHO IS RYAN?
He is asking you so many questions, who is Ryan, where do you know him from, does he ever flirt with you, is “old friend from school” code for something—
Dear lord someone help him
The second that meeting is over he is at your place
He’s smoothing out his suit and making sure his hair is straight and trying to open the door at the same time
But then when he gets into the room you’re in he’s got the calmest expression ever
“Hey darling, who’s this?”
No one in the room failed to notice how he had his hand grasping yours until the other guy left
He will completely deny being jealous
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Yoosung -
Nervous af
After the other person leaves he’ll ask you if you love him or if maybe he’s doing something wrong
He’s gonna be a little clingy for the next few days but he’d rather lose his LOLOL rank than you
You were sitting on the couch, legs stretched over Yoosung’s lap and head resting on the other end of the couch
You giggled at a text from friend, and immediately Yoosung looked up from his own phone
“Y/n?”
“Yeah?” You said, the playful tone from your friend’s dumb joke still in your voice
“What’s funny?”
You shrugged, still smiling “Just my friend, you don’t know him, you wouldn’t get it.”
Instantly, he’s kind of hurt
Because he’s funny! And he can be more caring than some guy he’s never met! ...Right?
He moves so that he’s laying beside you and pulls you kind of half into his chest so he can wrap his arms around you
He doesn’t say anything, he ends up falling with his head in the crook of your neck
Although, he will admit he snuck a few glances up to your phone to see if your friend was getting flirty
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Zen -
His confidence is a great mask, I will give him that credit
Zen is very cocky about the whole ordeal, probably telling the other person about his career and asking the other person what they do for a living
PDA also goes up a little bit, he’s pulling you into his lap or at least having an arm around your waist
He’s peppering your face with kisses, enough that it’s clear what he’s trying to say but not too much that it’s awkward
You and Zen were out on a double date with a friend of yours and his girlfriend
She had to leave soon after arriving at the restaurant, being that he boss called her saying he needed her to come into work
It left you, Zen, and your friend who undoubtedly felt like an awkward third wheel
In an attempt to fix that, you were talking to your friend and forgetting that it was supposed to be a date with Zen
You also failed to notice how his jaw was set and that he was staring daggers into your friend
“So,” he said abruptly. “Where do you work?”
“Oh! I work downtown at th-”
Zen cuts him off so quick I swear
“Cool, I’m an actor. Kind of popular, your girlfriend had probably seen some of my stuff.”
^^ This bitch, I cannot with him >:/
Your friend is just “??”
Zen just kind of grabs your hand and starts rubbing his thumb over your knuckles after personally attacking this man for no reason other than that he was jealous
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Seven -
Seven’s confident act drops quickly when he’s jealous
He wont necessarily say anything out of the ordinary, but it’s mainly just because he shuts down
He won’t speak unless spoken to, he doesn’t move from where he’s sitting unless you grab his hand and practically drag him to somewhere else
You were at his place, talking to Vanderwood while Seven was “hacking”
In actuality you were trying to distract Vanderwood from hounding Seven all day, the poor boy needed to relax and play some games instead of hacking all day
But of course Seven’s dumbass thought you were genuinely enjoying your conversation with the other guy
Vanderwood walked away to go do who knows what, so you walked over to see what Seven was doing
You found that he was actually working
“Seven? Why are you working?”
“Vanderwood.” He said simply, voice a little quieter than it normally was
His tired tone didn’t go unnoticed by you
“What’s wrong? I was trying to get him off your back, babe.”
Seven went galaxy brain I stg
He kind of smiles a little and says some cheesy joke
Then he’ll switch to playing some game
Although, when Vanderwood comes back he does start talking to you a little more and interrupting your conversation
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Jaehee -
She would like to think that she is a pretty calm and collected woman
And for the most part she is
But she will personally and emotionally attack any person she feels threatened by
Not to their face, no, but to you behind their back
She might admit she was jealous, but it’s quick and she won’t speak of it again
The two of you were in the library, looking for a book you’d recently heard of and had spiked your interest
Suddenly a guy walks up to you, smiling and seemingly ignoring Jaehee’s presence
He was clearly flirting with you and while you weren’t interested in him — since you had a girlfriend, obviously — you didn’t quite know how to tell him to back off
Jaehee was acting agitated, you could tell from the way she was antsy and kept reminding you that you needed to leave soon
“Hey, do you mind if I get your number?”
You were about to nicely decline the guy whenever Jaehee stepped in between the two of you, but still looking at the library shelves
It was as if she was completely ignoring that you two were having a conversation
“Y/n is taken, they are not interested. Thank you.”
After the guy left, you giggled and asked if she was jealous
She shrugged. “Maybe. He just looked rather unkempt and like he carries too much emotional baggage.”
You snorted, but she didn’t say anything else about it
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V -
He gets insecure about the fact that he can’t see all that well
And therefore if it’s one thing that can make him jealous, it’s whenever someone compliments how you look or what you’re wearing
He knows what you look like, obviously
But he feels like he shouldn’t compliment your appearance a lot since it doesn’t play that big of a part in why he likes you
And so he doesn’t complement that a lot, he focuses more on saying things about your personality
The two of you were at a party, it wasn’t too fancy but it definitely wasn’t one that you could just go in casual clothes
So you wore something a little fancy and fixed yourself up a bit before going
V noticed, obviously, he didn’t say anything because he didn’t want you to feel like he’d stop loving you if he completely lost his sight
“Hi! Y/n, right?”
The voice was familiar to you, but not your boyfriend
“Oh! Hi! Jack, it’s been a while, how are you?”
**confused V noises**
He’s jealous to begin with, whose this other guy and why are you so friendly with him? And why haven’t you introduced him to the other guys? Moreover, why haven’t you introduced him as your boyfriend?
But then your friend says “you look great!” And V panics
Instantly beside you and holding your hand, attempting to find an excuse to drag you away from the other guy
He will admit he’s jealous, but he will not admit why
191 notes · View notes
waitimcomingtoo · 5 years ago
Note
would it be too much to ask for another part of plank all over me? maybe this time is an autocomplete interview with both of them and there‘s rumors going around that they’re engaged or that she’s pregnant so they’re acting all mysterious for it... thank you so much ❤️ i loooove your stories!!
Plank All Over Me - Autocomplete Interview Edition
Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader
Synopsis: You and Tom do a WIRED autocomplete interview
Disclaimer: you do not have to have read the other parts to understand this, but check them out ;)
Plank All Over Me
Yoga Edition
Couples Tag
Prank Interview
Waitimcomingtoo Masterlist
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“Hi, I’m Andrew Garfield.” Tom smiled at the camera.
“And I’m Emma Stone.” You blew a kiss at it.
“And this is our weird Autocomplete Interview.” Tom finished.
“It’s WIRED.” You giggled at his mistake.
“What’s wired?” Tom asked you.
“Nothing’s wired. The channel is WIRED.” You corrected. “You said “weird”.”
“My apologies.” Tom said to the camera and he rested his hand on your knee. “This is our WIRED Autocomplete Interview.”
“Dyslexic king.” You praised and Tom laughed. 
“I like how these videos gradually get more and more chaotic as we make them.” He smiled at the thought of the other stupid videos you’d done together.
“I can’t wait to be 80 and playing with puppies over at Buzzfeed.” You joked.
“You and me both, darling.” Tom leaned in and kissed you. “Should we start with mine or yours?” He asked as he picked up the boards of questions.
“I like to save the best for last, so yours first.” You quipped and Tom gave the camera a blank stare.
“Isn’t she sweet?” Tom said sarcastically. You picked up his first board and peeled off the first strip of paper.
“Who is…Tom Holland.” Tom read off the board.
“I bet my mom was the one who googled that when I told her we were dating.” You said and Tom laughed.
“My mom probably googles “who does Tom Holland think he is?” when I’m acting up.” Tom added.
“Oh my God.” You covered your mouth with your hands. “Have I ever told you when your mom and I call you when you’re acting up?”
“No, what?” Tom inquired.
“No. I can’t.” You shook your head. “It’s our secret.”
“What? You have to tell me.” Tom shook your arm like a little kid. “Please?”
“Fine.” You sighed. “We call you Bitchy Elliot.”
“WHAT?” Tom screamed and you bent over laughing. “WHAT?”
“You wanted to know!” You reminded him.
“Bitchy Elliot? That’s not even clever.” He scoffed.
“It’s clever.” You disagreed. Tom picked up the board and dramatically ripped off a strip of paper.
“Who is Tom Holland…civil war.” You read amidst your giggles.
“Like who do I play?” Tom asked the camera.
“No, silly. They’re asking if you were on the North side or the South side of the American civil war.” You replied as if it were obvious.
“Oh, well I’m from Southwest-“ Tom began.
“The south was the racist side.” You interrupted.
“North.” Tom said definitively.
“I knew you didn’t know enough about American history to answer that question.” You laughed as you peeled the next strip off.
“Who is Tom Holland…girlfriend.” Tom read off the board.
“Whoever she is, I bet she loves proper grammar.” You poked fun at the phrasing.
“Y/n almost canceled our first date because I texted her and used the wrong form of “your”.” Tom told the camera.
“I think I was being completely reasonable.” You defended.
“Were you?” Tom squinted at you.
“Yes.” You answered and brushed his hair back. “Next question.”
“Where did Tom Holland…college.” Tom asked as he peeled the strip off.
“Oh God, where did Tom Holland college?” You asked in sarcastic amazement.
“I didn’t college.” Tom answered. “And I don’t think whoever asked this question did either.”
“Where did Tom Holland…meet Y/n.” You asked as you revealed the next question.
“We met over at BBC Radio 1 when we did the Plank All Over Me Challenge.” Tom replied with a smile.
“And I haven’t been unable to get rid of him since.” You said sadly. Tom rolled his eyes and peeled off the next question.
“Shut up.” He teased. “You love me.”
“Most days.” You agreed.
“Is Tom Holland…in the MCU.” Tom read off the board.
“He is!” You said excitedly. “I actually almost left the MCU when the Sony/Disney thing was going on because I didn’t want to be in it if Tom wasn’t.”
“She was two seconds away from not renewing her contract for Venom 2, so you have me thank for it happening.” Tom boated.
“Or we have the cast and crew to thank.” You suggested.
“Or me.” Tom shrugged as he revealed the next question. “Is Tom Holland…taller than Y/n.”
“You could ask “is Tom Holland taller than…” and no matter who you fill in the blank with, the answer would be no.” You stated.
“Haha!” Tom said sarcastically. “Read the next question.”
“Anything for you, shorty.” You laced your fingers though his and kissed the back of his hand. “Is Tom Holland…engaged.” You smirked a little when you read the question. Engagement rumors had been off the charts lately and you and Tom decided to be vague.
“I don’t know, is he?” Tom looked at the camera and tilted his head.
“Like engaged to a girl or engaged in combat?” You stroked your chin.
“Well he’s definitely not engaged in combat.” Tom confirmed and wiped his brow.
“So is he engaged to a girl?” You kept up the act.
“I can’t tell. He’s very mysterious. And very handsome.” He added.
“I wouldn’t go that far but he is pretty private about his personal life. I wish I could ask him.” You leaned your chin on your hand and sighed.
“I heard he’s pretty difficult to get a hold of.” Tom said sadly.
“Yeah. Maybe someone should give him a ring, see if he’ll answer.” You looked at the camera and shrugged. Tom peeled off the next question and dropped the paper on the floor.
“Is Tom Holland…British.” He read.
“He’s Australian.” You answered confidently as you revealed the next question.
“Does Tom Holland…drive.” He read off the board.
“No. He usually winds up his ears and flies off.” You said into the camera with a straight face. “They flutter like butterfly wings and that’s how we get around.”
“I think I know the answer to “is Tom Holland engaged?” now.” Tom mumbled.
“What’s the answer?” You asked him.
“No.” He told you before breaking into laughter. You cupped his face and kissed him swiftly as an apology.
“Was that your last one?” You asked when you noticed the lack of boards.
“Oh I guess it was.” Tom looked around. “Your turn.”
“Who is Y/n L/n…mcu.” You read. “Uh I play Iron Man.”
“She plays Iron Man very well.” Tom added as he peeled off the next question. “Is Y/n L/n…pregnant. Wow, second question.”
“Do I look pregnant?” You sassed the camera.
“Is Y/n L/n…engaged.” Tom read the next one.
“Nope, just pregnant.” You nodded.
“Is Y/n L/n…married.” Tom revealed the following question.
“Married to the money.” You answered and Tom chuckled.
“Is Y/n L/n…Tom Holland’s girlfriend.” Tom smiled as he read the next one.
“Depends on who you ask.” You shrugged.
“No, always.” Tom said, a little offended.
“Depends.” You shrugged again.
“Depends on what? Who would say no?” Tom questioned you.
“Me, if a cute boy asked.” You joked. He made a face and you laughed before kissing him.
“Is Y/n L/n…engaged to Tom Holland.” Tom read the next one.
“Im engaged in this conversation with Tom Holland.” You replied.
“Why does everyone keep asking if we’re engaged?” Tom asked with fake curiosity.
“Because we are.” You deadpanned.
“Oh right.” Tom matched your seriousness before you both burst into laughter.
“They’re probably asking because of the prank interview we did with Conor and Josh.” You reminded him.
“We didn’t say we were engaged.” Tom said.
“But we talked about marriage.” You countered.
“Guys, we’re not engaged.” Tom said to the camera.
“But Tom is pregnant.” You pointed at the camera. Tom laughed before peeled off the next question.
“Did Y/n L/n…win the plank challenge.” He read.
“I don’t even remem-“ You started.
“I won.” Tom stated. “I hold the record.”
“Well there you have it.” You laughed.
“Did Y/n L/n-“ He started to read the next one.
“Ryan Reynolds.” You cut him off.
“Oh okay.” Tom nodded as he peeled the next one. “Does Y/n L/n…have a boyfriend.”
“See the above answer.” You smiled at the camera.
“This is a video. There is no above answer.” Tom sassed. “And your boyfriend is not Ryan Reynolds.” He added quietly.
“Don’t remind me.” You sighed sadly. Tom made a mock hurt face and you pouted.
“Aw.” You laughed. “I love you.” You pulled him close to you and covered his face in kisses.
“Okay. I love you too.” Tom kissed your cheek. “There’s one more. Does Y/n L/n…John Mulaney.”
“I genuinely do not know how to answer that question.” You said after a minute of silence.
“I genuinely don’t know if that is a question.” Tom added.
“I think that’s a great way to end the interview.” You laughed. “Thanks John Mulaney.”
“Thank you for watching our Autocomplete Interview.” Tom grinned. “I’m Tom Holland.”
“And I’m engaged to Tom Holland.” You finally confirmed as you held up the hand with the ring. “Goodbye!”
Tag List 🏷
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buckyscrystalqueen · 5 years ago
Text
Ripped Dress
Pairings: Henry Cavill x Actress Reader
Warnings: Maybe swearing as usual...
Word Count: 1,471
A/N: Doesn’t have a completed end yet, but just giving you more content to try to get myself out of a writing funk. 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Red carpets have never, and will never be your cup of tea. They were always too loud, too crowded, and way too stressful, but you had a job to do, just like every other actor promoting their film. So like you had since your first movie premiere at ten years old, you donned a pretty dress and a smile, and walked the plank to your anxiety fueled hell.
Your custom made, silver chain mail, Versace dress hugged your frame perfectly, and sparkled like a diamond in the lights around you. It had a a slit up the thigh, a cute train off the back, and was almost the perfect combination of heavy and light, which comforted you in a way you hadn’t expected. As you walked away from the last of the cameras and interviews over to where your assistant, Ryan, was waiting for you, you sighed a little dramatically.
“Are we done yet?” You whispered, only partially teasingly, as you took the small bottle of water from his hand.
“Not yet, buttercup.” He breathed as he used your small hand bag as a fan as subtly as possible. “Damn, is it just me or did it get ten times hotter this year?”
“You say that every year.” You reminded him as you put on a smile and waved at Drew Barrymore, who was thankfully busy talking to someone else because you weren’t ready for her zealous, bubbly personality just yet. “And yet here we are.”
“Why haven’t we moved to the mountains yet?” He joked as he sassily popped his hip out in front of you. “Girl…” You shrugged your shoulder and finished the small bottle of water as one of your closest friends, Reese, called out your name. You turned in her direction and took a step that way, but someone was standing on the train of your dress. A loud rip made your stomach turn, and you scrambled to grab the sides of your dress as it tore straight up the left side of your body and all the way up to your breasts. Your face turned bright red as you quickly dropped to the floor to hide in the masses, while Ryan and the person who had stood on your dress in the first place spun toward you to help.
“Shit, is it bad?” Ryan asked, causing you to whip your head over to him with wide eyes.
“I don’t have a dress anymore.” You hissed as someone dropped something on your shoulder. “Just one big metal piece of material…”
“Darling, I am so, so sorry.” Someone said on your other side as he held his suit jacket tightly to your side. “I didn’t see your dress…”
“It’s fine.” You tried as people started to stop and stare since you were pretty much right at the exit of the red carpet, which made you quickly look away from the gawking eyes. “I’m OK.”
“No, you’re not.” The man said as he moved directly in front of you to block you from view. “Come on, let’s get you out of here.” You wanted to nod and let him help you to your feet so you could get away from this embarrassment, but the slight bit of anxiety you already had instantly tripled. Your head shook frantically and tried to take a deep breath, but your world started to collapse in on you. “Alright, come on. We’re going to get you out of here.”
“Henry.” You heard a woman’s voice say as you were slowly and oh so very carefully pulled to your feet. Your rescuer said ‘thanks’ and popped a large black umbrella open in front of you while Ryan opened a second one behind you.
“I wanna go home.” You said softly as you gripped Henry’s arm tightly as your vision started to tunnel.
“We’re going, sweetheart.” Ryan said as he hung up his phone. “Here, give me your arm. Right over here.” You glanced over at him and moved the fabric of your dress to your left hand so you could put the right through the suit jacket sleeve. You made it only a few steps before you stepped on the front of your gown and flew forward into the umbrella, nearly knocking it from your helper’s hand.
“OK, so one thing at a time.” Henry said as he pulled you up right and adjusted the umbrella in front of you. “Jacket on, then we’ll walk.”
“Just get me out of here.” You choked as you put his jacket all the way on and wrapped your dress around you like a towel to cover whatever the jacket didn’t.
“We’re going, sweetie.” Ryan said behind you as he made sure no one could see you in such a compromising position. “I have a car waiting out back.”
“Keep the dress up, darling.” Henry said softly as he carefully took your arm again just in case you were to trip once more. You nodded your head and clutched the material tight in your left hand as you reached across your body to hold onto his wrist. You could hear your heartbeat rushing in your ears and you were sure you resembled a tomato or worse. You were too terrified to cry, but you could feel the tears stinging the backs of your eyes and threatening to ruin your make up the moment it got the chance. This exact thing was something out of your worst nightmares, and yet here it was, your actual reality. The second time you tripped was because you caught the edge of a step leading to a side door of the venue that would lead you to your ride, but the stumble caused your heel to simply snap.
“Alright, well you are just a bloody mess.” Henry teased as he stopped just in the doorway. “Here, hold this. No more tripping for you.”
“You can’t just…” You started as Henry passed you the umbrella and very easily picked you up. “Oh! No, I’m OK…”
“Sweetheart, you made it thirty steps before tripping, then you broke your heel walking up the stairs. You are apparently dangerous if left to walk on your own.”
“She is.” Ryan chimed in as he walked beside Henry by your feet with his umbrella open so that you were covered on the side, just in case. You sighed and looked up at the man who spoiled and saved your night and startled the slightest bit at the easily familiar sharp, square jaw.
“You are Superman.”
“And you are the Black Widow.” Henry Cavill chuckled as he glanced down at you. “Henry.”
“(Y/N).”
“Pleasure to meet you.” He said with a smile as he dipped through a set of double doors. “I’m truly sorry I ripped your dress.”
“It’s fine.” You said softly as you looked down at your lap. Doing so made you miss Henry’s glance down at you as he walked through a second set of door that lead out to the side alley access. He noticed that you had wrapped part of the gown around your hand so tightly, it was making your fingers turn the slightish bit purple. “It’s fine.”
“She’s OK.” Ryan nearly whispered as the two of them stopped beside your rented town car. “Anxiety…”
“I understand that completely.” Henry said with a small nod as he carefully set you down beside the back door. “(Y/N).”
“It’s fine.” You repeated again as you looked up at him as the small damn holding back your tears started to crumble. “Thank you.”
“Come on, sweetie.” Ryan said softly as he stepped around Henry and pulled open the back door. “Let’s get you home.” You nodded and climbed into the car with a choked sob as your assistant looked back at your savior and pulled out your event ticket and your spare eye liner. “Thank you. Just call me about the jacket and I’ll get it back to you…”
“I’m in no rush.” Henry said with a nod as he looked down at the flash of metal that fell at his feet.
“Ryan!” You shouted as you covered your face with your hands. “Can we please get the hell out of here now?!”
“OK, we’re going.” Your assistant said as he scrambled into the car beside you. Henry gave you a small unseen wave as the car pulled away from the curb, and he bent down to pick up your ripped dress off the ground.
“Henry?”
“Leah, I need to find a tailor.” He said evenly as he carefully folded your gown. “And a car home. No since in going in without a jacket now, right?”
“Is she OK?” His assistant asked as she stepped up to his side and pulled out her phone.
“I’ll find out in a few days when I return the dress.”
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lauras-collection · 5 years ago
Text
Two Lies and a Truth [Part 1]
uni student!tom holland x female reader
Masterlist
Summary: Your first day at uni goes different than expected when you bump into someone from your past.
Words: 2.2k
Warnings: swearing, nothing else I think [there will be smut in future chapters]
A/N: Here it is! Finally, the first part of my college/uni tom fic! This has been in the works for quite a while and I really really hope you’ll enjoy it! (I originally wanted to post this tomorrow but I just cannot wait :D)
Now, this part is mostly build-up. But this series will be an emotional rollercoaster, you guys. 😅
Feedback is greatly appreciated!
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“Yes, mum. I’ve got everything. Would you please stop stressing?” Your mum was running around the house like a headless chicken and you honestly didn’t know what the fuss was about. You were moving into your student residence today and with the way your mum was behaving you’d think that you’re moving to another country. “I’m only moving to London, Mum. If there’s anything I forgot I can simply come here and pick it up.” You zipped your suitcase shut and started carrying it down the small staircase.  Your mum sighed as she followed you downstairs.
“I know, I know. But I want you to have the best possible start at University, darling.” You reached the bottom of the stairs and turned around to look at her. 
“I’m sure it’s going to be fine. You don’t need to worry about me.” 
“Of course I worry about you! That’s what comes with being a mum. Someday you’ll understand that.” You only rolled your eyes at that and carried the suitcase through the front door. The sea breeze immediately tousled your hair and you tried to tame it with your free hand while dragging the suitcase towards the car with the other. 
You were going to miss living by the sea. Brighton had been your home for the past four years and you’ve never felt more at home somewhere.  You already knew that you were going to come home plenty during the weekends. If your workload allowed it. You didn’t really know what to expect from university but you were prepared for a lot of studying. You had decided to study Film and Comparative Literatures in London and were very excited to finally study something that you were actually interested in. School had mostly consisted of you studying hard to do well in subjects that you had no interest in whatsoever. 
Classes were starting in a week but the University was organising an introduction week for all first-year students and you were more than thrilled to meet new people. You felt like it was the start of a new chapter in your life. 
Your mum drove you all the way to your student residence and you were thankful that you didn’t have to handle all your stuff on the train and the tube. You checked in at the front desk and the residence manager, Corey, took you and your mum to your room. You were going to share the room with another student and you hoped that she would be nice, or at least a tolerable roommate. You had heard way too many horror stories. 
When you entered the room with your mum, a blonde was already sitting at one of the desks in the room. She turned around as she noticed your arrival and greeted you with a huge smile.
“Hi! I’m Kelly.” She got up from the chair to wrap her arms around you in a hug. Your eyes widened in surprise but you reciprocated the hug quickly.
“Y/N. Nice to meet you.” 
***
After your mum had helped you with all your stuff she reluctantly drove back home.
“Be good, okay?” She was holding you by your shoulders as she looked at you intently. “I already know, you’re going to do great. Don’t be a stranger, yeah?” You nodded and wrapped her in a hug as you saw the tears form in your mum’s eyes. 
“Of course. I’ll try to visit as often as possible. Give dad a hug from me, okay?” Unfortunately, your dad had to go on a work trip so you had had to say goodbye to him the day before and he couldn’t join your mum in taking you to Uni.
Your mum nodded. “We’re so proud of you, darling. Okay, I’m gonna go now before I get stuck in rush hour traffic.” With that, she quickly waved goodbye to Kelly and left your new home to get back to your old one.
You spent the whole afternoon getting to know Kelly while you placed your clothes into your new wardrobe. Kelly was sprawled out on her bed and scrolled through her phone. She had arrived earlier in the day from Liverpool and had already unpacked all her stuff before you arrived. 
“The residence manger…what was his name again? Clark?” Kelly raised her eyebrows in question and moved her gaze from her phone towards you.
“I think his name’s Corey.” You chuckled and she nodded quickly.
“You’re right. Anyway, he told me that there was going to be a little get-together tonight. We should go there.” She sat up on her bed and put her phone down on the nightstand, looking at you with a pleading look.
“No need to convince me with that look.” You pointed at her face. ”Of course we’re going!” 
A couple hours later you found yourself in the cafeteria. The room was buzzing with excited chatter. You loved it. Snacks had been prepared so you and Kelly grabbed yourself some sandwiches before sitting down at one of the tables. A few groups had already formed but people were still arriving.
You were hoping that you’d meet some people that were studying the same as you. Kelly was going to study Linguistics and unfortunately, you wouldn’t be sharing any classes with her. It would be nice to get to know some people before classes started next week. 
“Hi, sorry.  Is this seat already taken?” Someone had placed a hand on the backrest of the chair next to you and you turned your head to look at them. You were greeted with a tall, brunet guy. His blue eyes were looking at you with a kind expression and you quickly shook your head.
“No. Go ahead.” You gestured towards the seat and he sat down. 
“I’m Ryan.” He introduced himself. “Are you first-year students, too?” He looked between you and Kelly. 
“Yeah, I’m studying Linguistics. The name’s Kelly.” Kelly said before taking a bite from her sandwich.
“I’m Y/N. I’m studying Film and Comparative Literature.” You smiled at him. Meeting new people was easier than expected. His eyes widened a bit when he heard what you were studying.
“No way. Me, too.” His face broke into a smile and so did yours. 
Find someone who’s studying the same subjects. Check.
For the rest of the evening, the three of you got to know each other better and exchanged numbers. You and Ryan compared your schedules and it turned out that you were sharing a lot of classes. 
When the cafeteria gradually became less crowded you all decided to call it a night. 
“I heard the literature department is throwing some type of welcoming party on Friday.” He mentioned as you were walking towards the stairwell. “Would you guys like to join me and my roommate?” 
You and Kelly looked at each other for a second before you both nodded.
“Yeah, that sounds fun!” Kelly said while starting to climb the stairs.
“Awesome, I can come by your room and pick you up?” He offered and you shrugged your shoulders but nodded again.
“Sure. Our room is 106.” 
Kelly had already reached the door leading to your hallway. She was waiting for you with a mischievous look on her face.
“So, he was cute.” Kelly said as soon as Ryan was out of hearing range.
“He was, wasn’t he? A really nice guy.” You nodded pulling your key out of the pocket of your jeans.
“He was definitely checking you out the whole time.”  Kelly chuckled and you rolled your eyes.
“He was just being nice.”
“Nuh-uh. He couldn’t keep his eyes off you.” She wiggled her eyebrows while you unlocked the door to your room. 
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
***
The day of the party had arrived quickly. You had spent the whole week mingling with people and you were excited to meet even more and have a good time with Kelly, Ryan and his roommate Jordan. You had just finished coating your lashes with mascara when Ryan knocked on your door.  Because Kelly was closest to the door she went and opened it. 
“Hey, c’mon in. We’re almost ready.” Ryan entered the room and looked around for a moment. His hands were placed in the front pockets of his jeans. 
“I like what you’ve done with the room. Ours still looks pretty bland.” 
You and Kelly had decorated your room throughout the week. Both of you had stuck pictures and posters on your wall and placed a few decorative items here and there. Your mum had gotten you quite a bit before you moved here and it made the room look much more like a home rather than a hotel room. 
“Thank you.” You said with a smile as you tucked your make up away. 
A few students were having pre-drinks in the cafeteria so that was your first destination. Jordan was already downstairs and had saved a few drinks for your group. 
“Good to see you guys.” Jordan exclaimed and greeted both you and Kelly with a hug before handing each of you a drink. Throughout the week you had visited many introduction events with the two boys and Kelly and had gotten to know them quite well already, considering you’d met not even a week ago.
“To the start of our student life.” Kelly cheered and raised the bottle a bit. You followed suit and clinked the neck of your bottle against hers.  
The party was being held in a small club not far from the student residence so you collectively decided to walk there. The walk was filled with laughter and when you reached the club you got in almost immediately. You felt the beat thumping through your body as you followed Ryan and Jordan further into the club. You held Kelly’s hand clutched in yours so you wouldn’t lose her as you squeezed through the crowd of people. You were walking by the bar which was right by the entrance of the club. There wasn’t a lot of space for people to walk by and as you tried to keep your eyes on the dark green shirt that Ryan was wearing, you suddenly felt an elbow connect with your face. It wasn’t that painful but there was enough force behind the unintentional punch to send your head back a bit. Your hand cupped your cheek as you let out a groan.
“Oh my gosh. I’m sorry.” The person who had punched you turned around and placed their hands on your shoulder as you blinked repetitively. When you finally looked at the guy in front of you, you lost your ability to speak for a moment. Brown eyes were looking at you with concern and you closed your eyes for another moment wondering if you were dreaming or if the hit to your head had been worse than you thought. But he was still standing in front of you. Tom Holland. You hadn’t seen him in years. 
The last time you saw him you were fifteen, maybe sixteen, and the ripped guy in front of you had nothing to do with the scrawny boy you remembered. The white t-shirt he was wearing was tight over his muscles and a backward ball cap was covering his brown curls. 
You suddenly snapped out of it and looked back into his face his lips now pulled into a smirk.
“I don’t believe we’ve met.” He said. “I’m Tom.” He removed one of his hands from your shoulder and reached it out for you. You just rolled your eyes.
“We have, actually.” You raised an eyebrow either he didn’t recognise you or he forgot about you completely. You didn’t know which was worse. 
“Did we? I’m sorry I must’ve been drunk.” He chuckled a little. “What’s your name again?” You felt like not telling him just to spite him. But you decided against it.
“Y/N, we were next-door neighbours for ten years. Does that ring any bells?” You watched his eyebrows shoot up, almost touching his hairline. 
“Oh.” 
“Yeah.” 
“You look...different.” He almost stammered.
“Thanks?” You looked at him questioningly not sure if that was supposed to be a good thing.
“I’m sorry. I- uh, I should get back to my friends.” He pointed to somewhere in the back of the club. 
“Yeah, sure.” You nodded. You hadn’t expected him to want to talk about the good old times anyway. 
“Sorry again. For accidentally punching you.” You waved your hand in a dismissive way. 
“Don’t worry about it.” And with that, he disappeared into the group of people. When you turned around to Kelly she was looking at you with wide eyes. 
“Who the fuck was that?” 
“Tom Holland. We went to school together.” You shrugged your shoulders. 
“Hold up a minute. He used to be your neighbour and you went to school with him and he didn’t even recognise you just now?” She was pointing in the general direction of where Tom had gone. 
“He didn’t really pay much attention to me.” He had paid attention to you, but you didn’t feel like telling Kelly that your childhood best friend had betrayed you in the worst way when he decided to make your life a living hell. 
Part 2
Thank you so much for reading 💕
Tags:
tagging mutuals + favs in this first part in case you’re interested:   @parkeret​ // @parkerpeter24​ // @starsholland​ //  // @spidermanlondon​ // @tomhollandsblog​ // @mannien​​ // @thirsttrapholland​ // @starksparker​ // @madmadmilk​ // @keepingupwiththeparkers​ // @heyhihellowhatsup0​ // @angelic-holland​ // @screamholland​ // 
everything taglist: @rachaeldonnaspiteri1 // @localfangirlx // @averyfosterthoughts // @parkerpeter24 // @mrhollandisart // @tloveswriting // @tomhollandloverrrr​ 
Two Lies and a Truth taglist: @sad-sagita​
You can find the link to my taglist form here
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searchingwardrobes · 4 years ago
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The Convenient Groom: 7/13
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The slow burn continues to simmer in this chapter as Emma and Killian settle into a routine, and Anna’s wedding planning forces them to figure out “their song.”
This is first and foremost a gift for @spartanguard​, and this chapter includes several little touches just for her!
As I wrote this, I tried to imagine what kind of music best suits Emma’s and Killian’s personalities. So, don’t take offense at some of their musical opinions - I made digs at music even I like! And fyi, if you go on YouTube to search for wedding songs, this is pretty much what will happen (minus the hot guy to dance with you, of course).
Summary: Killian Jones just happens to be there when Emma Swan gets the phone call that changes everything: her fiance is leaving her at the altar. The thing is, it could also mean the end of her career. Convenient that Killian has nothing better to do that day. Convenient that he’s secretly in love with her. Not that Emma has to know that. Written for @spartanguard​ .
Rating: M
Also on Ao3
Tagging: @snowbellewells​​ @whimsicallyenchantedrose​​ @kmomof4​​ @let-it-raines​​ @teamhook​​ @bethacaciakay​​ @xhookswenchx​​ @tiganasummertree​​ @shireness-says​​ @stahlop​​ @scientificapricot​​ @welllpthisishappening​​ @resident-of-storybrooke​​ @thislassishooked​​ @ilovemesomekillianjones​​ @kday426​​ @ekr032-blog-blog​​ @lfh1226-linda​​ @ultraluckycatnd​​ @nikkiemms​​ @distant-rose​ @optomisticgirl​​ @profdanglaisstuff​​ @carpedzem​​ @ohmakemeahercules​​ @branlovestowrite​​​ @superchocovian​​​ @sherlockianwhovian​​​ @vvbooklady1256​​​ @hollyethecurious​​​ @winterbaby89​​​ @delirious-latenight-laughs​​​ @jennjenn615​​​ @snidgetsafan​
Emma and Killian both had thought that life would slow down once they were back from the honeymoon, and it most ways, it had. The past week they had fallen into a comfortable routine. Killian woke first, tidied up the sofa where he had slept, then went for a run with Smee at his heels. While he was gone, Emma woke, made the coffee, and filled Smee’s bowl with kibble. Emma had her run on the treadmill while Killian showered, then he made breakfast while she showered. This kept Emma from leaving dirty knives poised on the edge of the sink, and gave Killian an opportunity to put her half-finished coffee in a travel mug.
Emma then raced out the door after snatching her breakfast out of Killian’s waiting hands. She was always running late for her 9 am appointment. Killian had yet to figure out why she didn’t schedule her first one later in the day. As for himself, he lingered over his breakfast so he could read a bit before heading into work.
Her book - he was reading her book.
Emma had seen it in various places around the house - on the coffee table, beside Killian’s morning coffee, and on the patio table. She wanted to ask him what he thought, yet at the same time she feared what his opinion would be. Men didn’t normally read her book, after all. Except for that one pompous windbag who only read it so he could skewer it. She couldn’t see Killian eviscerating her like that jerk had, but she also knew he would be honest. That tiny voice of doubt always at the back of her mind kept whispering that he hated every word she’d written. So she remained silent. She did note, however, that his book mark kept moving deeper into its pages.
At work, things went on pretty much as they were before, with one exception. Even though the paparazzi hadn’t followed them to Storybrooke, they still couldn’t let down their guard. The town had to believe they were a couple too, and Emma still had to keep up pretenses on her social media. For that reason, Emma made her way into his workshop at twelve each day asking what he wanted to do for lunch. Some days they walked over to Granny’s to grab a bite together (hand in hand or arm in arm - for appearances sake), while other days Killian was busy on a project and Emma brought lunch back for him. Their “work lunches” had already appeared on Instagram.
They didn’t always leave for home at the same time. It depended on Emma’s schedule and how engrossed Killian was in his current project (he had a bad habit of losing track of time). Yet Killian always insisted on cooking dinner for them both, and no matter what work had been like, they were seated at the kitchen table with a home cooked meal at seven pm every night. After that, they’d plop down on the couch and find something to watch on Netflix. Right now they were doing a rewatch of Parks & Rec.
It had honestly been the most steady, domestic week of Emma’s life. She would never admit it to anyone, especially not to Killian, but she loved it.
Unfortunately, there was one thorn in both their sides, and her name was Anna. They really should have looked closer at the calendar when they had suggested July 4th for the family ceremony.
It was Thursday night, and their enjoyment of the shenanigans in Pawnee, Indiana, was interrupted by a light tapping on the back door. They both groaned as Emma pressed a throw pillow to her face.
“I guess we can’t ignore her?” Killian asked half-jokingly as he paused the show.
Emma whacked him with the pillow. “You’re the one who started the habit of your family coming to your back door. Who does that?”
Or maybe lots of families did that - Emma really wouldn’t know.
Killian sighed again, his head dropping onto the back of the sofa. “Come in,” he called out.
“There’s really only one more thing I need to ask you two,” Anna said without preamble as she rushed through the door. “Sparklers - yes or no? Because I think they’re romantic, but Kristoff says they’re for kids, and Liam said they’re cliche, and Elsa worried we’d burn our fingers, which if you think about it, kind of contradicts what Kristoff said because if kids use them, I’m pretty sure we can handle them without burning ourselves.”
Anna finally ran out of words, and just stood there in front of them expectantly. Emma was rendered speechless, wondering how Anna hadn’t passed out from lack of oxygen, and Killian simply looked confused.
“Sparklers for what?” he finally asked.
“The wedding,” Anna clarified with a roll of her eyes.
“You know, babe,” Emma teased, poking him in the leg, “the reason she’s popped over here every single night?”
Killian rubbed his jaw, and Emma noted the bags under his eyes and frowned. For the first time, she wondered how well he was sleeping out here on the couch.
“Aye, our small, family ceremony.” He looked at Anna pointedly as he emphasized the words.
“It will be,” she insisted, punching Killian in the arm. “It’s just going to be the six of us. Now, what’s your song?”
She had a literal binder opened on her lap. It was so large, her pregnant belly was about to send it sliding to the floor. Her gaze was on them expectantly, a pen poised over the binder.
Emma glanced at Killian. “Ummm . . . we don’t really have one?” She shrugged.
Anna’s shoulders slumped and her lips turned down into a frown as if Emma had just insulted her personally. “How can you not have a song?”
“It’s not a requirement, A,” Killian pointed out.
“But . . . but . . . you had a first dance at your big fancy wedding. I saw pictures of it on the internet. What did you dance to?”
“Don’t use that,” Emma blurted out before she could stop herself. Anna frowned.
“It was just some generic song the DJ picked out,” Killian explained hurriedly. “We didn’t like it, actually.” He turned to Emma with a grin. “Remember how we laughed about that song?”
Emma’s chuckle was genuine. “We sure did.”
“Oh, well that’s disappointing . . .” Anna trailed off, slumping against the sofa. Emma was really expecting the binder to hit the floor now.
“I tell you what,” Killian encouraged her, “Emma and I will pick out a song, ok?”
“You can’t just pick out a song!” Anna argued, and Emma was startled as tears welled in the redhead’s eyes. “It has to be meaningful!” She dashed at her tears in frustration. “I’m sorry it’s these stupid pregnancy hormones.”
Killian moved to sit next to Anna and put his arm around her. “Don’t worry, A. It’ll be meaningful. I promise.”
“By tomorrow?”
“By tomorrow.”
Anna narrowed her eyes. “And it won’t be generic?”
Killian put his hand to his heart. “I promise we will find something meaningful to our relationship.”
“I know I’m being ridiculous,” she chuckled as she wiped the tears from her cheeks.
“No you’re not,” Emma assured her, “it’s really sweet of you to put all this together.”
Anna gave her a watery smile, then started trying to hoist herself to her feet. Killian rushed to help her, then she gathered her binder and headed for the back door.
“Oh, and Anna,” Emma called out after her.
“Yeah?” Anna asked as she turned back around.
“Yes to the sparklers.”
Anna’s answering grin was almost worth the nightly interruptions. Almost.
“Okay, Swan,” Killian exclaimed as soon as the door shut behind Anna. “We’ve got some work to do.”
“The song?” Emma was incredulous. “You’re not serious!”
“As a heart attack. You heard her. She wants something meaningful. Don’t you think it will arouse suspicions if we pick, like . . . ‘The Way You Look Tonight’ or something?”
Emma narrowed her eyes. “Why would that be suspicious?”
“Because that’s in practically every rom com ever made.”
Emma snorted through her nose. “I never took you for the rom com type.”
He smirked at her. “I have many facets, love.”
Emma shook her head and couldn’t keep the smile off her face. “Okay, romance expert, how in the world do we pick a song? There are literally millions of love songs.”
“Well,” Killian replied, plopping down on the couch next to her and taking the remote, “I bet there’s a wedding dance playlist on YouTube. We’ll start there.”
He scrolled through the menu on their smart tv as Emma lounged against the back of the couch and studied him. “I’m still trying to imagine you watching . . . say . . . You’ve Got Mail or something.”
“Meg Ryan and Tom Hanks are legends, darling,” he countered smoothly, still concentrating on the tv.
“Okay, I guess, but what about . . . While You Were Sleeping?”
“Sandra Bullock and Bill Pullman? What’s not to love?” He winked at her. “Okay, Emma, here we have top 100 wedding dance songs.”
“100!”
He waved his hand at her dismissively. “I’m sure half of them we can rule out rather quickly.”
“You mean the super cheesy ones?”
“Precisely.” He narrowed his eyes as he pulled up the playlist, and Emma couldn’t stop the fleeting thought that he was cute like this - his eyes all crinkled at the corners and his brow furrowed. “Okay, we’ve got Bruno Mars, Justin Timberlake -”
“No, and no.”
“Okay, The Chainsmokers -”
“You can not be serious.”
“Whip/Nae Nae?!?”
“You must have the wrong list,” Emma told him, snatching the remote out of his hands. “That must be stuff to play at a wedding to get people to dance.”
“Ah, you’re right. Try first dance.”
“Wedding . . . “ Emma murmured as she used the arrow keys to choose the letters, “dang it, Killian, you really need to get one of those voice activated tvs.” She glanced over at him to see him grinning at her. “What?”
“You stick your tongue out a bit when you’re concentrating,” he told her, gesturing towards her lips, “it’s cute.”
Emma glowered at him, but felt her cheeks heat all the same. She forced her gaze back on the tv. “Okay, let’s see . . . First Dance - Wedding Suggestions or Most Popular Wedding First Dance Songs. Both have 117 videos.”
Killian shrugged. “Just pull up the first one.”
“Ed Sheeran,” they both read at the same time, then glanced at each other. Simultaneously they both burst out laughing.
“I’m hoping that’s a no?” Killian asked her tentatively.
“Of course it’s a no! Ed Sheeran screams generic.”
“You know, darling, maybe we’ve put the cart before the horse.”
“Okay, old man, what the hell does that mean?”
“Well,” he replied, smoothly overlooking her jab, “what kind of music do you like?”
Emma scrunched up her nose and tapped on her chin. Killian thought once again that she looked adorable, but he didn’t say so. “Ummm . . . I guess more rock than pop. Definitely no country. And don’t laugh but . . . I like punk.”
A slow grin spread across Killian’s face. “Love, I feel we are a match made in heaven.” When Emma’s jaw dropped, he sputtered and scratched behind his ear. “Uh, I meant musically speaking.”
“Riiight,” Emma said, nodding slowly. “Oh, and no power ballads. She rolled her eyes. I don’t think I can listen to an 80s hair band again after Walsh.”
Killian chuckled. “Okay then, let’s just scroll through these with all of that in mind, shall we?”
It wasn’t easy. Most were either pop or country, and the classics like Etta James “At Last” felt too cliched. A few had them chuckling. Who the bloody hell would dance to Dave Matthews Band. Do they have any idea what Crash into Me is about? And Killian played REO Speedwagon’s “Can’t Fight this Feeling” just so he could dramatically sing it to Emma until she collapsed laughing on the couch.
“Wait!” Emma called out finally, clutching his wrist where he held the remote. “That one? Maybe?”
“This one?”
“Yeah - you think?”
He grinned at her as he rose from the couch and offered her his hand. Emma’s brow
furrowed.
“What are you doing?”
“What does it look like I’m doing? I’m asking you to dance.”
She rolled her eyes. “We did that already, remember?”
Killian arched both brows at her. “But that was Walsh’s cheesy power ballad about sex, remember? Anna wants us to pick a meaningful song, and we can’t do that if we don’t get the full affect.”
Emma battled the smile that teased her lips and lost. “Okay,” she said, putting her hand in his. Her traitorous cheeks blushed as he pulled her up and close to him. He pushed the play button, and Paul McCartney’s voice filled the small house.
Maybe I’m amazed by the way you love me all the time. Maybe I’m afraid of the way I love you.
For some reason, dancing with Killian now felt even more nerve-wracking than it had at the wedding. She stared down at their shuffling feet, inexplicably terrified to look into his eyes. His very pretty, blue, expressive eyes that she swore sometimes could see right through her.
Maybe I’m amazed at the way you pulled me out of time. Hung me on a line. Maybe I’m amazed at the way I really need you.
“Well, the lyrics are definitely meaningful,” Killian chuckled awkwardly. “A won’t be able to argue that point.”
Baby I’m a man and maybe I’m a lonely man who’s in the middle of something that he doesn’t really understand.
Inwardly, Killian was cursing Paul McCartney as the lyrics hit like barbs. He realized he had tightened his grip on Emma’s waist, but she didn’t flinch away. He cleared his throat nervously, then almost choked when Emma’s green eyes met his. She’d had them glued to her feet until this very moment.
Baby I’m a man and baby you’re the only woman who could ever help me. Baby won’t you help me understand?
“Yeah,” she whispered, “I mean, it is Paul McCartney.”
“Uh huh,” Killian winced at how utterly idiotic he sounded. What was this conversation about, again?
Blessedly, the song went into an instrumental break. They continued to shuffle their feet across the living room carpet, but his grip relaxed, and so did Emma’s shoulders.
“So . . . “ she said tentatively, biting on her lower lip, “I saw you were reading my book.”
 “I am.”
Emma tilted her head. “So . . . what do you think?”
Killian pressed his lips together and gazed over her shoulder, collecting his thoughts. “I think you give women very good advice on how to be smart while dating. I also like how you draw a line in the sand, telling women they should never have to change who they are to keep a man. I feel like so much dating advice is really telling people to put on an act, and that’s just garbage. I think your book empowers women to cut off bad relationships.”
Emma nodded, impressed. Those were usually the things in her book that got her hate mail from irate ex-boyfriends.
“Do I sense a but after that praise?”
Killian let out a long sigh, then looked her directly in the eye with such intensity that Emma couldn’t have looked away if she’d wanted to. “But, the chart that’s in there? The one that will show you if someone is compatible with you?” He shook his head, and Emma swore his arm snaked farther around her waist, pulling her just a hair closer. His head bent closer to hers, and his voice dropped an octave. “Love can’t be quantified and measured like that, Swan. It defies logic. It takes everything you thought you knew and obliterates it. When it’s real, you can’t tell where you end and the other person begins. It’s terrifying, exhilarating, and comforting all at once. When you love someone, you don’t need a chart. When you love someone - really love them - you just know.”
Baby, I’m amazed at the way you’re with me all the time. Maybe I’m afraid of the way I leave you.
There was no mistaking it now, Killian had pulled her closer, his hand splayed across her back. Emma pressed her face to his collarbone, relieved that she was no longer looking into his piercing eyes. Killian pressed his lips against her hair.
“I haven’t offended you, have I?”
“No,” Emma managed to choke out, “I appreciate your honest opinion . . . “
“But?” he prompted with a chuckle.
“But your romantic views are exactly what gets people into trouble. That’s why I suggest people analyze the person before feelings get involved.”
Paul McCartney’s voice trailed off, the final strains of the music died, and a YouTube ad for Facebook Messenger started to play. Killian lifted his head and pulled back a step. Emma looked into his eyes once again.
“What if it’s too late?”
“My book says to fill out the chart after the first date, Jones.”
“What if it doesn’t happen the traditional way?” He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “What if love sneaks up on you?”
Emma swallowed and took a step back. His arm fell away from her waist, and she shivered.
“I think Paul McCartney will work, don’t you?”
He chuckled. “Aye, Swan.”
Suddenly, Kelly Clarkson’s voice filled the room as the first strands of “A Moment Like This” played, and they both burst out laughing. It broke the tension, thankfully, and Emma plopped back down on the couch and snatched up the remote. She started flipping through the songs in the playlist again, just in case. Killian sat down next to her.
“So,” she said, glancing at him out of the corner of her eye, “you said we’re a match made in heaven music wise. You share my tastes?”
He shrugged. “Mostly. I’m rock more than pop too, though I don’t discount it entirely. I mean, The Beatles are technically pop.”
“True,” Emma conceded, “and then there’s Michael Jackson.”
“Exactly! And, I’d go less for punk and more for alternative.”
“Let me guess. Pearl Jam? Nirvana?”
“Naturally. And Goo Goo Dolls, Smashing Pumpkins, Barenaked Ladies -”
“Wait, wait, wait. Barenaked Ladies are not alternative. They are one hundred percent pop.”
Killian gasped. “Pop, no way! The lyrics are way too tongue in cheek.”
Emma stuck her lip out stubbornly. “They are pop, Jones! Maybe veering a little towards punk -”
“Absolutely not, they are not punk at all!” Emma rolled her eyes as Killian snatched his phone off the coffee table. “I’ll prove it! Hey Google, what genre of music are The Barenaked Ladies?”
“The Barenaked Ladies,” his phone replied in that emotionless robotic voice, “are a Canadian alternative rock band formed in Ontario in -”
“Ha!” Killian crowed in triumph as Emma scowled.
“Where did Google get that info, Wikipedia?”
“Don’t be a sore loser, Swan,” he teased, and then his eyes brightened. “You know, I may have an even better song for us.” He took the remote from Emma and tediously typed something into the search bar.
When Emma saw what it was, she cried out in protestation. “That can not be our song!”
“Why not? It’s the style of music we both like.” He gave her a faux-innocent pout.
“Alternative Girlfriend?”
Killian shrugged then winked at her cheekily. “Well, there’s no song called Alternative Wife.”
Emma smacked him in the chest. He hit play on the YouTube video and then began crooning the song to her.
“You’re in an all-girl band, your futon is second-hand -”
“Yeah, Jones, this screams wedding song.”
“I have a job in a shop - see, that’s me!”
“Sure it is.”
Killian kept singing as he yanked her to her feet and swung her around the room. “You’re my alternative girlfriend. I love you and now you cannot pretend. There’s nothing left that won’t cross over.”
Emma laughed as he spun her out and back in again and she collided with his chest. “I’m pretty sure by alternative girlfriend they mean the alternative rock lifestyle.”
“No way, they mean a girl you date - or marry - because she’s in a pickle. For pretend.”
“Did you just basically say that I’m in a pickle?”
“Aye, Swan, a dill pickle because those are the only kind.”
Emma was laughing so hard now, her sides ached. They ended up staying up until two in the morning sharing music on YouTube. Some that were their favorites, some that they loved to make fun of, and others they were ashamed to admit they liked in their younger days.
And even though they had decided on it hours earlier, they texted Anna a little after two am to tell her that “Maybe I’m Amazed” by Paul McCartney was officially their song. They figured it served her right.
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spacesuitsforemergency · 4 years ago
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Oops!...I Did It Again
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Word Count: 1.8k
Requested by @must-be-ryan: Oneshot idea (maybe?): Music Meister learning he has a kid in their early teens who just discovered their powers and followed in his footsteps
A/N: I tweaked it slightly so that he already knew his daughter. And btw her powers are so that she can speak and people will do as she says. Singing too, but just talking will do the trick. Also I’m literally the dumbest person on earth, I kept misspelling ‘sandwich’. I wrote this while listening to the High School Musical soundtracks
Music Meister Tagging: @silverdecepticon93
“Dad!” You shout in panic. “Help me!”
You watch as your dad comes barreling down the grand staircase of the mansion (which he had used his powers to “buy”), nearly slipping on the marble floors. It was way more hilarious because he was still in his pajamas, and had shaving cream on half his face.
He looks around the foyer, expecting to see danger, but everything looks normal. The only thing that tipped him off was his daughter standing in the front doorway, and the mail man was passed out on the porch.
“What happened?” He asked, joining you in the doorway and peering down at the dude.
“I don’t know! The guy told me to have a nice day, I said ‘drop dead’ and he just fell!” You gesture down to the man you potentially just killed.
“First of all, when someone says ‘have a nice day’, the proper response is ‘you too’.” Your dad corrects. “Second of all, is he actually dead?”
“I don’t know! Why do you think I yelled for help?” You raise an eyebrow at him.
Dennis reaches down and finds the mail mans pulse, sighing in relief when there is indeed one.
“He’s not dead...” he stands back up. “How did you do that?”
“What part of ‘I don’t know’ do you not understand?” You cross your arms, frustrated because you’re freaking out and he’s not helping so far.
“Is that sass, Missy?” He puts a hand on his hip.
“Dad! You’re not helping!”
“Okay, okay!” He nods, racking his brain for ideas. Then it hits him. “Oh my god, my darling! You must have developed your powers!”
“What? I thought you said I was too old to get them anymore?” You ask as he wraps you in a bear hug, picking you up and twirling.
“Well I guess that was one of the rare moments I was wrong!” He cheers joyfully as he sets you down. “Okay, tell me to do something.”
“Uh...make me a sandwich?” You shrug.
Nothing happens.
“Try to add a little...emotion. Show me some urgency!” He snaps his fingers. “Give me some pizzazz!”
“Make me a sandwich!” You yell at him, making sure to pour out your frustration.
He suddenly looses emotion in his face, and at first you’re kind of freaked out. Then he robotically moves to the kitchen, opening the fridge and cupboards as he gathers sandwich ingredients. You watch with your jaw dropped as he actually makes you a sandwich, and he blinks as soon as it’s finished. He looks around in confusion, staring at the sandwich in his hands.
“Why am I making a sandwich?” He asked after a minute.
“Holy shit! I did it!” You shout in glee.
“I have taught you better manners than that, but holy shit indeed!” He mirrors your excitement as he runs back over to you. “My baby girl is all grown up!”
“Now, what do we do about the mail man?” You point to him.
“Hm. I’ll take care of this. You go eat, you need some energy for the day we’re going to have!” He grins.
“What are we doing?” You ask.
“My dear, darling daughter, we are celebrating!” He sang. “I’ve been waiting for this day for 15 years! You are getting proper attire for villainy, and we are planning your first heist tonight!”
“Aw! Dad!” You groan in disgust when he kissed you on top of the head, his shaving cream getting in your hair. “Thanks a lot! Now I have to wash my hair again!”
“So what color scheme are we going for?” Your dad asks.
“I am not wearing your hideous green and purple.” You mumble as you stare at the stuff he already picked out in resentment. You were currently in some department store, picking out your new villain fit with your dad.
The past couple hours were almost torture, your dad just wouldn’t stop fawning over you. He was so excited and proud though, you couldn’t even get angry at the guy. He was thrilled to begin passing the torch down to you, and both of you were eager to get started.
“Um, I think you mean the gorgeous combination of lime and violet?” He scoffs, clearly offended. “It is one of the only things me and my dear friend Edward can agree on.”
“Well you and your dear friend Edward are wrong.” You shake your head.
“Y/N, it is not rocket science. Just pick something. We still need to give you a name.” He shoved the rack of clothing at you.
“Oh, I picked that out when I was 9.” You say, finally actually looking through the clothes, despite already knowing you wouldn’t like any of it.
Even after your father gave you the news that you would most likely not develop powers since you had passed the age he had received them, you still wanted them. You wanted to become just like your dad, he was your idol. You of course would never tell him that, his ego was way too big already.
“You...you did?” His voice cracks, a smile making its way to his face as he tears up.
“Are we really getting sappy right now?” You sigh.
“No!” He quickly wiped his tears. “No, of course not. What is it, dear? Tell me.”
“Siren. Hypnotic powers through voice? What do you think?” You grin.
“It’s fitting, dramatic, mysterious, threatening. I love it!” He hugs you for about the millionth time today. “Honey you have no idea how happy I am to hear that!”
“Hear what?” You wheeze from the tight hug.
“To hear that you picked out a name! To hear that you’ve wanted this for so long!” He finally let’s go to let you breathe properly. “Now, Siren, have you choosen your attire?”
“Yeah yeah. I hate it though.” You say sarcastically, pretending to be disgusted by the color combo.
You stuff the clothes into your bag, both of you getting ready to slip past the workers. You hear someone clear your throat behind you, and see Karen the Manager. The worst villain of all.
“I’m calling security. Don’t think I didn’t see that.” She sniped at you, sneering at the both of you before saying into her com; “We got a couple of lowlifes trying to smuggle some merchandise.”
“Lowlifes, Karen?” You glare at her. “You can just drop dead, lady!”
Then she falls to the ground.
“Oops, I did it again.” You wince.
“Lesson Number 1, you have got to stop saying that to people.” Your father shakes his head at you. “Not to worry! But we should get out of here before-“
“Hey! Stop right there!” A mall security guard shouts from the entrance of the store.
“Dad, what do we do?” You ask, panicked at this point.
“This is perfect practice! Siren, if you will.” He gestures to the guards coming for the both of you.
“What?!” Your eyes widen.
“Go on!” He nudges you, like a mother bird kicking its hatchling out of the nest. “Lesson Number 2, come up with it on the spot!”
“Stop!” You shout at the guards, and they freeze. “Okay uh...let us go. This never happened.”
“This never happened.” The 3 men nod, still frozen.
You and your dad creep past them, then book it out of the department store. You race down the hallways of the mall, shoving people out of your way. More mall cops pursue you as you dash towards the doors.
“Get the car! I’m right behind you!” Your dad pushes you through the doors.
“But I can’t drive!” You protest as he tosses you the keys.
“Lesson Number 3, go with the flow, my dear!” He grins before turning to deal with the guards.
You reluctantly rush to the car, not really sure how to even start it. You quickly figure it out, then drive to the entrance. Your dad sprints out a moment later, practically falling into the car.
“Step on it!” He screeches as police cars pull up from behind you.
You speed forward, barreling down the road. Your dad grabs the wheel to help guide you, while also looking back every so often to watch the police cars in pursuit.
“This is a lot of trouble for the ugliest outfit ever!” You yell in alarm as you nearly rear end someone, but your dad quickly swerves.
“It’s for the drama, darling!” Your dad beams, turning the radio on. “Plus the publicity!”
“Ew, this song is awful.” You scrunch your nose when he doesn’t change the station.
“I’m a little busy at the moment!” He yells, taking out his music staff and shooting music beams at the police from the sunroof.
You finally lose the cops after awhile, your dad plopping back into the passenger seat. When you make it to your house you stumble out of the car, shaking from the adrenaline rush.
“I’d say that went pretty well for your first crime.” He says after a few moments of silence.
“I think I’m gonna be sick.” You groan.
“Wasn’t that such a thrill?” He ignores you, strutting up to the door. “How do you feel?”
You respond by throwing up in the well trimmed bushes, Dennis cringing as his daughters’ retches. He inches towards you, awkwardly rubbing your back in a weak attempt to comfort you. When you finish he guides you inside and to the table, quickly grabbing you a glass of water.
“You’re okay right?” He asks, concerned. “I didn’t freak you out, did I? I’m a horrible father, I shouldn’t have dragged you into this. I’ve scarred you for life! I am a disgrace! An imbecile! Wretched! Diabolical! Heinous! Wick-!”
“Chillax, drama queen.” You giggle. “The only thing I’m scarred with is the fear of driving ever again.”
“So...you’re okay?” He asks timidly.
“Of course, that was awesome!” You grin. “Did you see me beat Karen? And the cops? And when I almost hit that one guy crossing the road but I didn’t? I just committed my first felony!”
“Hell yeah, you did!” He cheered, giving you the most over the top high five ever. “So I didn’t give my baby any emotional trauma?”
“No, dude! That was so cool! I’m so ready for the next heist!” You give him your best evil grin.
“Thank god, because I already got these custom made.” He pulls a case out of his pocket, opening it to reveal a pair of visors identical to his.
You smile up at him, and this time you initiated the hug. You thank him and kiss him on the cheek, before taking the visor and putting it on. You look in the reflection of the wall length window, then turn to your dad, who has a proud smile on his face.
“How do I look?” You ask.
“You look all grown up...” Dennis sniffles, tearing up once again.
“Dad!”
“I’m sorry! I promise I’ll stop crying one of these days!”
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zambie-trashart · 4 years ago
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Superkids: Prologue
Because of an anon asking me if I had any ideas for some damianette kids or adrijon kids I had to make them. So now I feel like a gotta write a good enough story for them too.
Background info:
Sophia Agreste-Kent: daughter of Jon Agreste-Kent and Adrien Agreste ten years old refers to Jon as ma at home but pop in public and Adrien as father or dad
Luna Wayne: daughter of Marinette Wayne and Damian Wayne 13 years old
Lucas Wayne: son of Marinette Wayne and Damian Wayne 15 years old
Ryan Graham: son of ? 14 years old
.........................................
Sophia pulled her hair back and smiled at herself in the mirror like her father told her to. It was her first photo shoot and she was nervous. She had never considered herself pretty in fact, boys threw dirt at her all the time but ma said that was just something boys did when they wanted attention.
“Pull yourself together, it’s not like he’s going to be there,” Sophia said to herself and looked out her window and saw a girl with short blue tinted hair and crazy eyes.
“What’s up Agreste-Kent?” Luna asked her best friend chilling on her window.
“Getting ready for my first photo shoot dad’s orders,” Sophia said and Luna hopped into the bathroom.
“Uncle Jon always said you’re hair looks better down, why are you wearing it up?” Luna asked grabbing Sophia’s head and carefully slicing the holder and brown locks fell over Sophia’s shoulders.
“Hey!” Another body found it’s way through her window.
“Luna, come on mom says it’s time for school,” Lucas said one leg dangling out the window.
“Whatever, keep your hair down!” Luna yelled front flipping out the second story window and landing on her feet.
“You are crazy Luna Wayne!” Sophia yelled at her friend who stuck her tongue out and Lucas just walked away not saying a word.
Sophia walked down the stairs of the new Agreste Manor. Her grandfather had been imprisoned for being Hawkmoth so her father sold the old one and built a new manor in Gotham six miles down the road from Wayne Manor.
“Sophia! Come on you’re going to be late for school!” Jon yelled up at his daughter grabbing a backpack and stepping out of Adrien’s office. Adrien walked out too chuckling at his husband.
“She has a photo shoot today,” Adrien said and Jon dropped the backpack and sat down. “You seem exhausted darling, you should take a break from patrolling for one night,” Adrien said wrapping his arms around his husband from behind.
“I know, I’m only twenty eight and I’m working myself harder than I ever thought I would in my entire life,” Jon said looking up at Adrien who smiled softly at his husband.
“Maybe it’s time we tell her,” Adrien suggested and their daughter walked down the stairs two seconds later wearing a dress designed by Marinette for MDC + Agreste fashion line. Adrien had decided to combine their fashion lines cause they were friends and Jon didn’t need his husband and cousin bickering back and forth.
“Tell me what?’ Sophia asked eyeing her father and “mother” carefully.
“Later, for now we’re going to be later and that’s your aunt’s thing,” Jon said and the three walked out to the garage.
***
Luna sat in the car with her brother who was looking out the window with his permanent scowl on his face. Their mother often asked herself why she “popped one out that has to be so much like their father”. 
“I said no Luna, you can’t tell Sophia about her powers, they might not even manifest,” Marinette said from the front seat and they arrived at school.
“Uncle Jon and Uncle Adrien are never going to tell her though,” Luna whined wanting a new partner, her brother was smart but he was too grumpy for her.
“Her birthday is tomorrow, she’s turning ten. I’ll talk to Jon about it but if he says no then we wait until next year,” Marinette looked back at Luna’s disappointed face. “I’ll talk to him at the shoot today don’t you worry Luna,” Marinette said and the kids got out of the car.
“We have to tell her,” Luna said to Lucas and rolled his eyes.
“We can’t tell her, she’s not ready yet,” Lucas said echoing his mother’s words.
“Fine, I’ll tell her myself,” Luna said storming off and running into a tall blonde boy who reached out a hand to help her.
“Luna Wayne right?” the boy asked and she nodded. “Ryan Graham.” She smiled at him.
“Thanks for helping me up, what grade are you in?” she asked wondering if he was a freshman like herself.
“Ninth grade, you?” Ryan asked and she gave him a look. “Right, ninth.” They walked down the same hall and into the same class.
***
Sophia stood in white flats and a navy and maroon dress in front of a water fountain. Marinette ran in fashionably late as always. 
“Jon, we need to talk,” Marinette said pulling her cousin away. Adrien set up Sophia for some photos. They got through about two photos when Sophia started hearing something.
“You need to tell her about her powers,” a voice said and a sigh followed.
“I know Mari and I was planning on doing that tomorrow, she might not even have them.” The voices were cutting in and out and there was a loud ringing in her ears. She didn’t even realize that she was screaming until she was being held by her father and ma was running over. 
“Tell her today, but once she gets back to normal, I’ll call Damian to pick up Lucas and Luna,” Marinette ran away with her phone. Adrien held Sophia as she cried. Why was everything so loud all of a sudden? What wasn’t ma telling her?
***
Luna sat in class looking at the boring lessons on the board. The intercom told her she was being dismissed and she was happy but what for? She saw her father standing there and Lucas walked out behind her.
“Father, what’s happening?” Lucas asked getting into the front seat.
“You’ll see.” Luna started bouncing in her seat. “Kent wasn’t this much of a pain when he changed,” Damian whispered to himself driving toward Agreste Manor.
They arrived and stepped inside hearing screaming all the way from downstairs. Adrien and Marinette were wearing soundproof headphones. Adrien pulled his phone out and so did Damian.
She started seeing through walls and hearing voices.
Damian nodded and the screaming died down a little so they took the headphones off. Jon walked down the stairs with his sweater untucked, hair everywhere, and glasses off.
“I’m never having another kid,” Jon said one eye twitching. Sophia walked down the stairs wearing her ma’s glasses and headphones. Jon had curled himself into Adrien’s arms head in his chest and let out a groan.
“You did good babe,” Adrien said patting his husband’s head.
“Really, in front of the kids?” Marinette asked and Adrien just shrugged.
“Sophia?” Adrien asked and she looked over at her father.
“What?” she asked and Adrien gestured to sit down.
“I don’t know if you’ve noticed but you have powers. See your pop or ma as you call him is half alien. His father is Superman saving people who need help and pop saves people too,” Adrien said to Sophia who looked back and forth from Jon to Adrien.
“So grandpa is...” Sophia started before smiling wider than humanly possible.
“Your pop and grandpa aren’t the only heroes. I was a hero in Paris named Chat Noir in fact everyone in this room is a hero. Aunt Marinette is Lady-Red, Uncle Damian is Batman, Luna is Minibug, and Lucas is Robin. Of course your father is Flamebird and Uncle Connor the new Superman,” Adrien said and Sophia’s eyes lit up.
“But there’s something important about this that you can’t tell anyone. Recently one of the jewels that gives normal people powers has gone missing. It’s called the moth miraculous, I have reason to think that someone stole it from our house, I am giving Luna a chance to be the old me and she’s been training. I was hoping that your pop would tell you tomorrow but your father said that he is willing to give you the miraculous of the black cat so Luna has a partner,” Marinette said and Sophia was freaking out.
“What’s the moth miraculous do?” Sophia asked looking up at Marinette.
“It can create powers beyond imagination, they can be taken at will and controlled. I just hope that we can get it back before anything too bad happens,” Marinette said and the family sat down.
***
Ryan walked home into a dusty large apartment. “Father! Mother! I’m home!” Ryan called out. “I befriended the Wayne girl like you said!” 
“Good job son!” a man yelled from the shadows.
“We’re so proud of you!” a woman cooed. A man in a gray suit and a woman in a red romper and hair in two ponytails in the front of her head stepped out of the shadows.
“You’re becoming a true part of the Graham de Vanily-Rossi family,” the man said hugging his son. His mother held out a broach.
“Let’s get started, shall we?”
..................................................
I can’t even think about who the parents might be? Also family tree time Lois is Sabine’s cousin making Marinette and Jon second cousins making the kids third or fourth cousins which at that point I don’t really think counts. Adrien and Felix are cousins.
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darthspideys · 4 years ago
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all that glitters // 2
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chapter 2 // butterflies 
Warnings: objectification of men? Is that a thing? Look I pretty much just boil these guys down to their bodies and baseline personality traits sorry if that offends you 
a/n: I feel like this is as good as time as any to say that i've never watched an episode of the bachelor or the bachelorette in my life. All the info for this fic came from wikipedia and or a slideshow of bachelor dates so do with that what you will :) also I don’t describe race right off the bat here with your bachelors but they are not all white so don’t picture them that way, that’s not how we do things here :) 
You expect them to swarm you like wasps. Judging by the warnings from the crew, and from the poor showing the night before you expected that the moment they saw you they would swallow you up in a circle and you’d have to bend down and crawl to escape. You spend the whole day being shuffled through more interviews, photoshoots, lectures, and everything in between, until it’s finally time to do an actual rose ceremony. 
Well.. almost. Before you’re able to eliminate one or two people, you have to meet them first, which you guess makes sense. Today's event is going to be a cocktail party, where you're supposed to mingle and drink with all of the guys, smile for the cameras and then savagely eliminate two of them from the competition right off the bat. You’ve been told that you only have to eliminate too, but you figure the more you kick off the sooner this will be over, and you're sure that more than one of them will do something to annoy you. 
Considering their time on this show is on the line, you thought that as soon as they even thought you were coming outside to join the party, they’d swarm you for their chance to make a good first impression. But as you exit the mansion, decked out in a golden dress that doesn’t even make it to your knees, with more gold embellishments and only straps to keep it place no one even seems to bat an eye. You’re a little more offended then you want to let on, not because you want their attention, at least you don’t think you do.  
Truthfully, as much as you would never admit it, being the star of the show isn’t such a bad thing. After being on the backburner in your own family, and even out in the world for so long, having the whole thing be about you is something you’re beginning to like. Something about being in control, having their fate in your hands is exciting as much as you want to push that feeling down and make it go away. 
You hear the sound of an unfamiliar voice, “And here she is.” 
Suddenly, all eyes are on you. All ten guys stare at you and even though you're a ways away you can feel the heat of their stare, and see the anxiousness in their bodies. You wanted them to pay attention to you, and now you have all of it. And it’s not just theirs, the cameras all turn to you, and the sound, and the lights, it shows every inch of you for the world to see. Although you know it’s not live, you can almost see the people watching from their living rooms, your mother watching from her disgustingly gaudy living room, with the moose head mounted above the wall that’s probably watching you too. 
It should scare you, it should make you want to run the other way and lock yourself in your room for the next six weeks where no one can see. You should be wilting under the intense light, drying out from the heat of it, but you don’t. You smile, and you revel in it. 
Lights, camera, action. 
Liam comes up to your first. Everyone sees that he’s staked his claim and disperses off for the moment, to nurse their drinks and or get some more camera time for themselves. If they can’t make you love them, the audience is the next best thing. 
“I’m sorry about last night,” He says, still Canadian. He rubs the back of his neck self consciously, and you make note of the camera angled right over his shoulder. Your microphone itches against your upper chest. You sip your own drink, a soda because you're going to have to be sober for this, “I just wanted to see you face to face.” 
“They didn’t show you my picture or anything before you got here?” You ask him, “You didn’t even think to know what you were getting into.” 
“It’s not the same as seeing someone in person,” He says, and he says it with a kind of meaning you don’t expect. He’s not what you expected, starting with the apology and ending with the clear honesty he is giving you in this moment. “The photos don’t really show how beautiful you are.” 
You playfully roll your eyes, “I’m sure you say that to all the girls.” Before he can argue you continue, “Apology accepted, consider the slate clean.” 
You’re gone before he can say anything else. You’re not in the mood for hollow compliments, or the kind of flirting usually reserved for the first meeting at a bar or on some app. You move on to different tables and make small talk that you loathe but you smile, maybe because your face is permanently wound into that position. 
Anthony is average. He talks a lot about what he does, and it’s good work but you’re getting a hint of something else that you don’t like. The way that he talks about himself is a little too egotistical for your liking. 
Lars is a lumberjack. Literally, that’s what he does for a living and he looks it. Even his suit has a flannel tie, just so everyone is aware of exactly what the package is. You like it, even though you know your mother would never approve of something like that (a fact which makes you want him more). 
Enzo is from Texas. He is very proud of it, and the southern accent is something that sets him apart. However, the amount that he talks about Texas and the amount that he talks about himself is concerning. He’s cute though, definitely sitting in the middle of your mental ranking.
Liam is, well he’s been previously established. 
Chris is obviously here because of good old fashion nepotism. He’s the son of the host, and clearly here to fulfill something for his parents, which is relatable but doesn’t make him any higher than a seven out of ten. 
Leo and Lucas as twins. It’s very interesting, and enough to put them above the top five just because of the curiosity of it all. They are almost the same, windswept brown hair and dark brown eyes except somehow Leo has freckles, which puts him about 0.6 higher than his brother. 
Ryan is white bread, delicious but boring. He’ll stay for a while, hang on just for kicks but he’ll always be the dead weight, hanging around in the background but the show will be a nice bump for his national profile and let’s be hornets he’ll be in the running to be the bachelor. 
Which brings you all the way down to numbers one and two on the current husband to be ranking (if that’s even what you're gonna end up calling it, because it’s too real to stick around for the whole competition). Tom is the handsome stranger from one magical three seconds on a bustling street in New York that you’re very much longing for as you shuffle through conversation with man after man and sip your drink. He is kind of short if you’re being honest, but that’s okay, with brown eyes and dark brown hair. He’s from Britain, which you can tell before he tells you he’s from South London, darling, and staring right at the camera over your shoulder. You don’t talk about your previous meeting, and you wonder if he even remembers. You don’t know whether to hope he does or doesn’t, but you do know that you remember every second of it. 
Sanjiv is the golden boy. Young, Indian American, and a favorite to win last season on the Bachelorette. Only the woman went for the bad boy at the last second, and the jury is still out on whether it’ll work. The rumor was he would be the next Bachelor, but here he is standing and smiling at you in a way that makes heat rise to your cheeks and you don’t know what his game is. That makes you nervous, that scares you, that you don’t know what his game is. After the entire afternoon, dancing in circles going from table to table and smiling your face off, you feel like you know what everyone’s game is, but not his. It scares you a bit, that you don’t know what his aim is but it’s a kind of intoxicating uncertainty. He’s the mysterious man that always gets the girl because she desperately wants to figure him out, it's the challenge, it's the chase that why he’s number one. 
“I’m sure you’re wondering where my loyalties lie,” He says. 
“Something like that,” You tell him, “If this was anywhere near normal I’d be asking you if you were over your ex, or do exes count here?”
“I’d say she’s my ex,” He shrugs, “And I’ve moved on, as much as I can.” He looks at you with an expression you can’t quite interpret. “Promise you won’t pick someone else over me at the last minute?” 
That makes you smile, and you hope that he’s joking. “I will make no such promises, but if the situation arises I will give twenty four hours notice.” 
“At the very least will you not eliminate me first?” He’s teasing you and you can tell. “It would be a little embarrassing for my image.” 
“Well anything for your image, I was going to but I guess I’ll just have to pick someone else now.” 
His laugh is natural, and you get those same butterflies in your stomach as you did in high school when you tried to impress your crush and you joke just landed. The little churn that comes with the possibility that the answer to does he like me? Might be yes. For a moment you forget your on tv, you forget that you're the girl everyone wants, the one in the gold dress and you’re just you. You're just a girl, standing in front of a boy that you see something in, something that you can’t quite describe or touch but you feel it. That’s truly why he’s number one. That feeling doesn’t come around a lot for you, the butterflies, usually you're anxious because of a work deadline or a family dinner but this is something else entirely.
You don’t know what his game is. But your dying to find out.
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