#blah blah blah tags here so you have to press read more to subject yourself to it

[angeltism]

post so funny it makes me want to sit up from my chair just so i can double over in psychic damage and laugh until i cry about it

[vohalika]

The Clitical Discordening

So by basically shitposting vaguely into the wind, I got involved with… something. Oh boy.

What the hell is going on?

Two days ago, a blog called “defenderofcrqueers” run by an 18 year old acequeer French girl called Sofia, calling herself tired of predatory lesbians, started a series of call out posts on a BeauYasha Discord Server which, from what I have been able to gather, is actually called Clitical Hole

The blog and the posts have been deleted

The first post was reblogged 40 times by the person who made it. 40 times. I counted.

In the posts, Sofia made serious accusations of transpbobia, biphobia, and aphobia, which some of the screenshots provided corroborated

There was also a section labelled xenophobia, which contained someone saying “fuck the French”

Put a pin in that

In between that were also “general violent behavior” or “objectifying the cast/each other” and liberate usage of trigger warnings, most memorable being “tw: lesbians”

Those posts very clearly already read as people shooting the shit with each other, making fun of being called predatory lesbians, talking about their personal relationships in sometimes maybe bad phrasing or poor taste, but that’s, you know, a matter of taste

The ratio between benign stuff and serious accusations was roughly 50:50, balanced enough for it to not be clearly discernable whether it was serious or not

Again, the blog itself reblogged this 40. Times. It got maybe 100 notes total.

I found this because a friend linked it in our 4 people discord after she got it from the mod of another discord

This led me to make two posts; one just vaguely making fun of how badly you can fuck up a call out post, and another explaining to an anon what had happened.

I stand by all of the points made in there, under the assumption that this was someone trying to do what has recently been done to a Fjorester discord server and failing miserably, while the members of the server largely treated it as a joke

Parts 2 and 3 were published, too, not reblogged 40 times. They contained more of the same, with some of the usual ace discourse you see all over tumblr in it

You know, claims that aces want to be oppressed to badly, acehets aren’t lgbtq, just the usual stuff you see everywhere which made it look pretty genuine.

Members of the server in question largely considered this a joke and trolled the author of the posts on the blog.

There were hints of a 4th post coming, including racism and antisemitism. You know, things a tad bit more serious than a bunch of lesbians being horny towards each other.

After sleeping on it for another day, I made a third post. Again, everything is now deleted, but keep in mind there were serious accusations and some pretty disgusting things in the screenshots.

This post was updated after the “saviorofcrqueers” blog and everything on it was deleted

Now I’ll have you know that my 3 posts on the subject had maybe 30 notes between them, largely by the same people. That’s fewer times than the blog self-reblogged the first post!

And yet somehow my posts were screenshotted and posted by the server in question, leading to of its members to contact me to clear the air

I will stress that these members have been nothing but polite to me

After talking things over with them and asking a few choice questions I’ll get into later, a new blog, “notallwhatitseems”, which is still up at the time of writing this, reblogged my most current post, owning up to all of this having been a prank to get back at the server for insulting her home country of France

So everything about that server is fake?

Well. Mostly?

For the record, I am not a member, have never been a member, and have no interest in ever being a member. It is not my ship and the general tone is not my vibe. In fact, they are very much against my ship, out of everything the fake call out included the 52 pages of BeauJester hate are probably the least manipulated and the most real, and you know what? That’s their prerogative. As I said in my first post, back in my days, people would raid tags with hate and then get raided back. Making your own community to hate on rival ships to your community is progress here. Godspeed.

(Ship hate, of course, rarely exists in a vacuum and can feature other shit, blah. I’m talking about it in isolation here. This is seriously not the most pressing issue by a long shot.)

The general tone of what I’ve seen from the server, even when it was kinda funny sometimes, is also just, plain and simple, not my cup of tea. Very frequently in what I consider to be poor taste. And that is fine, too. I’m not here to police how anyone talks to their friends in a private space outside of, you know, actual bigotry. To quote one of the people who got in contact with me:

So the two members who got into contact with me after seeing my post on the server. Source S is more of an outsider looking in, source Y is, from what I can tell, very much involved with this and was featured in some of the screenshots.

They both, independently of each other, confirmed to me that the transphobia and biphobia weren’t real, either manipulated or taken out of context, and that there’s actually a lot of trans people on the server. They also both reported that no one knew what the alleged racism and antisemitism would have been; probably members of color or Jewish members making fun of themselves.

So. Is that legit? I’m inclined to say sure. Three people confirmed this. Until anyone else comes forward, this is as far as it goes.

Except for the aphobia.

Source S told me unprovoked that there is indeed very standard aphobia going on in that server. I asked source Y about it, here’s what she said:

However, I would be amiss not to mention that the only person in this situation who identifies as asexual has said the following:

And, like. It is probably not my place to speak over what an actual ace person thinks about this, is it?

Wait, is that?

It sure is! I figured if I was already talking to primary sources here, I could as well talk to the primary primary source. Which I will now post unabridged.

At time of writing, there has been no response to that. And that conveniently also answers the probably most pressing question:

Why are you even posting this?

Or, in the words of an anon I received this morning in Germany and also France:

Anon, I’m not gonna delete shit.

Why? Because I think this is kinda important.

As you can see in the conversation up there, it really, really rubs me the wrong way when you abuse call out posts as a prank. Like, yeah, I am aware the whole concept has been meme’d to death on tumblr anyway and really bad call out posts have a long tradition. However, you kinda gotta put this into context, don’t you?

We’ve had a discord server called out for saying vile shit in this fandom before. First of all, the willingness to even hint at (and then reblog yourself for 40 times) another discord server being similar kinds of bad, toxic, and possibly harmful is pretty callous. Like, yeah, the post got no reach and I have even less, but throwing a community you apparently care about under the bus like that is, you know, not a very nice and actually kinda callous thing to do.

And second, fake accusations of bigotry hurt everyone affected by that bigotry. Yes, even in tumblr call out post format. The comical overuse of trigger warnings, a concept that is wildly mocked and misunderstood in the first place, is already in very poor taste. Manipulating content to believably depict pretty violent transphobia? Crosses a few lines.

Like, if you’re gonna do it for a joke, stick to posting the things that made members of the server celebrate themselves in the comments as “the funniest bitches on the internet”. And maybe don’t reblog it yourself 40 times, that shows a certain kind of conviction, doesn’t it?

I’m not gonna comment any further on the motivation behind this; as I said, my brain does not compute patriotism and I find it equally likely that “Sofia” is fucking with me, as she was with everyone else. I entertained the thought of this post being fake kinda from the beginning because the identities so perfectly fit several things being called out; xenophobia against the French at the forefront, of course.

Like, the only thing that made me believe in this being a genuine but misguided attempt at a legitimate call-out was the apparently manipulated content out of context and the fact that the OP apparently believed in their own post enough to reblog it 40 times.

So what my issue is here comes down to a crying wolf kind of thing: A fear that this goes down as a great prank, and the next time someone comes forward about fucked up things going on in a fandom space, everyone has gotta wonder if the tw: lesbians insulted France again. Something that by my estimation happens about five times an hour on the internet anyway.

Everyone, call out responsibly.

  (Yes I know I am basically contributing to how this incident will be remembered here. But at least it’s, you know, full of a whole lot of context.)

(Also, Sofia has used two throwaways, so at least that’s something she’s smart about. It’s why I don’t feel too bad about not censoring her name here. I expect the “notwhatitlookslike” blog to be gone by morning. Well, maybe afternoon, it is a little late in both Germany and France.)

[wolfpawn]

I Hate You, I Love You, Chapter 83

Chapter Summary -  Tom returns from Milan to Danielle's aforementioned letter, but when he rings her, a man answers.

Previous Chapter

Rating - Mature (some chapters contain smut)

Triggers - references to Tom Hiddleston’s work with the #MeToo Movement. That chapter will be tagged accordingly.

authors Note - I have been working on this for the last 3 years, it is currently 180+ chapters long.  This will be updated daily, so long as I can get time to do so, obviously

tags: @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog​ @jessibelle-nerdy-mum​ @nonsensicalobsessions​ @damalseer​ @hiddlesbitch1​ @winterisakiller​ @fairlightswiftly​ @salempoe​​ @wolfsmom1​​

If you wish to be tagged, please let me know.

Exhausted from his flight and his time in Milan, Tom looked at the envelope in front of him, it was the largest piece of mail in the pile that awaiting him after his return and Danielle's name was on the sticker on the front. They had not spoken since the texting at the after-party, much to his disappointment, but he had promised her that he would call, so leaving everything else, he got out his phone and dialled her number.

"Hello?" A man answered causing Tom to feel as though his heart skipped a beat in his chest. "Hello?" "Sorry, is Danielle there?" he asked, his voice tight.

"She's busy at the moment, can I take a message?" The man's accent was heavy,  sort of like Danielle's, yet slightly different.

"No, I will ring her again in a while, thank you." "Sure." Tom hung up the phone and swallowed, a terrible feeling in the pit of his stomach spread through him as he thought of Danielle and some Irish guy her aunt probably set her up with on her return to Ireland. He looked at the envelope and bit his lips together, walking around aimlessly after the blow he just received, only half unpacking his belongings, generally just staring into space for a few minutes at a time. She was technically single, but it had only been a week, and he thought they could work on their issues, she had implied they would talk over things when she returned. He had expected her to be there the next day, her flight was due in early the next morning.

For over half an hour, he walked around the house feeling lost and upset, when his phone rang. Seeing it was Danielle, he clenched his jaw and pressed the green answer button. "Yes?" "Hey, Tom. Are you okay? You sound upset." "I'm fine, tired." He dismissed, not wanting to admit how torn up he was.

"You need to look after yourself." Danielle scolded. "You said you were taking this year to step back a little for yourself." He said nothing in response. "Sorry I missed your call, it's been fairly hectic here, when I got back, Richard told me that a 'Brit' rang, I assumed it was you since you had not left a name." "Richard?" he tried not to, but vitriol came through in his voice as he spoke the man's name.

"Yeah, Richard, my cousin." "Cousin?" Tom's voice leapt up about three octaves.

"Yes, cousin, he's Siobhan's brother, he…Tom?"

"Yes?"

"Tom, are you under the impression that he wasn't my cousin?" He didn’t respond. "Did you think that he was just some random guy I decided to get with over here?" She half-laughed.

"It's not my…" Tom stopped and inhaled deeply. "I shouldn't have…" "No, but I would never do something like that Tom," Danielle sighed. "You know how I feel about you, that doesn't just go away and disappear instantly because we had a fight, and I don't bed-hop." Tom's eyes widened at her admission. She cleared her throat, "So, is there a particular reason for the call or did you just want to talk?" "Are you trying to ask if it's important enough to talk or get rid of me?" Tom hoped he sounded like he was joking. Danielle did not answer for a moment, "I love talking to you Tom, if you only spoke about the weather I would be here, eagerly listening." Tom noted a disheartened tone in Danielle's voice. "It came." "Jesus," He could hear her breathing deeply. "What does it say, have you opened it, have you it read it already?" "No, it's still in the envelope." A few more deep breaths came through the phone. "Okay, could you…" "Sure, one second," Tom went down the stairs and into the kitchen where he had left the envelope. "You know you have this, Elle, you worked so hard." "Hopefully." She seemed doubtful. Tom opened the envelope and scanned the words. "Okay…" "Tom?" "Ms Hughes, Thank you for choosing us for your…blah, blah, blah, your results are as follows…" "Tom, this isn't the Emmy's, don't bullshit me, no pauses, just give it to me."

Her pleading tone and her choice of words caused Tom's brow to raise but he said nothing, as desperate as he was to. "You got it, with honours." "Tom, stop bullshitting I said." "Elle, you got honours, you soared through, you topped the class,  there is a handwritten post-it here from the course head, he knows someone he wants you to meet." "Tom…" She said in a warning tone, "Wait, what?" Tom laughed as he read the note. "You were supposed to give a short outline of some changes that could be made and went over the word limit by over three thousand words, really Elle?" "I found a flaw in the safety system and explained it in full." She sounded a little sheepish. "Well guess what, it has gotten you a meeting with some fancy guy, he is coming over from the States to see you." Tom beamed. "Congratulations Darling." "I.…fucking hell." there was a small laugh of disbelief down the phone. "Fuck me." Tom remained silent, in truth he'd had a bit of a dream about that particular subject in Milan and her saying those words were not helping, he missed her in every aspect. "He's here on the first of March." Danielle swore loudly, "Is that a problem, you'll be back by then." "No, I won't."

Tom felt as though he had been struck by a crowbar into the gut. "But I thought…" "Things are pretty messed up here at the minute, I have to stay awhile," Danielle commented.

"Is everything alright?"

Danielle sighed. "The reason I didn't have my phone with me earlier was because I was with a solicitor."

"Elle?" "My aunt, she is going to try and force the sale of my Nan's even though the other three of us that legally own it are against the idea." "Oh," Finally Tom realised what his sister was referring to as Danielle's stresses in Ireland. "So what did the solicitor say?" "The best way to deal with it is to buy her out." "That's not really an option for a lot of people, they don't have the spare price of a large part of a house to spare, how much is the house worth?" "This part of the country and with the current market, I don't even think it will fetch over a hundred grand, but I stopped into an auctioneers on the way back and he's doing an evaluation tomorrow, so I also looked into a credit union loan while I was gone, but being in Britain affects that, I…Jesus Tom, I am so bloody sick of it."

"Elle…" He did not know what to say. "I wish...I half wish I didn't come over, but at the same time, I needed to and it's just…on top of everything else." Tom felt guilty for the article having only been the start of Danielle's woes, she clearly had a lot she had to contend with other than that as well, but it was not helping. "I'm sorry." "I just…" he could feel the tension of her trying to force herself to say something.

"Yes?" There was no response. "Whatever it is, just say it, Elle, please." "I really wish you were here," she admitted. Tom said nothing. "Tom?" "One second." he had his laptop on the table, so he lifted the lid and typed into the search engine. "Is Knock airport far from you?" "About an hour and a half away, why?" "I can get a flight this evening."

"What? No Tom, you're tired and just back from Milan and…" "Elle, I can be there this evening, just say it now, I will respect what you decide either way, but I can get to you this evening darling, just say it." Danielle did not speak for a moment. "Elle?" "This is crazy," Danielle dismissed, "I don't know why I even…It's fine Tom, forget I said anything."

"Elle? You need someone there for you, Mum is not available, Emma is working, I know we have things we need to discuss, but I am here for you, you were here when I needed you after LA, just say yes or no."

[suit-lady]

At One Hundred Two.

Pairing: Tom Holland (Unrequited) x Reader

Summary: Inspired by 102 by Matty Healy. In which Tom has fallen in love with a close friend who has no idea... and then falls for someone else. And in which Tom has to learn to let go.

Warnings: Swears, I think. Uh, Tom cries? I think that’s a fair warning because bby is sad... Other than that, no?

Words: 2850 (whoops it’s way past my bedtime)

A/N: Yo I did my best to keep this as gender-neutral as possible even though the song is very much straight. So shoot me an ask if I fucked something up, thank you. Also, I’m gonna keep my tag list off this one because it’s been so long... I might just erase it and start over. If you still wanna be tagged (or if you’d like to start being tagged!), shoot me an ask as well! Thanks for supporting me xoxo Also yo I listened to 102 for the first time ever today and it had me so far in my feels my dudes so if you’ve never listened to it get fucking ready. Ps, the link is to a tumblr post because the quote from Matty helped inspire as well.

Snow fell softly around you. You were out on a midnight walk with Tom. Though you didn’t know it, he was watching you out of the corner of his eye, memorizing the way you looked that night. The two of you were littering the fresh snow with your boot tracks as you walk, talking about everything and nothing.

Tom had picked you up from your house, and the two of you were walking back to his to watch a few movies and warm up your freezing toes. When you’d first stepped outside, he’d complimented your brand new Timberlands, and you’d excitedly told him about how they were a gift from a family member and blah blah. You kept looking back at the tracks in a satisfied fashion as you walked. Tom tried to hide the smile on his face every time you did.

“Tom, you really don’t think you’re gonna finish the final paper of the term in just a few days, do you? I’ve nearly finished mine already,” you were saying, your voice muffled behind your scarf.

“Sure I do! I only need a night and a fresh-brewed pot of coffee. It’ll be a Christmas miracle.”

He felt you roll your eyes as you said, “Tom,” drawing out his name, “you at least need to get started this weekend. The draft is due Friday, and you know our instructor expects a lot from you.”

“It’s senior year, (Y/N). Relax a little.”

“Thomas Stanley Holland!” you cried, whirling on him. The outburst caused him to stop in his tracks. “You better not be getting senioritis on me already! It’s fucking December!”

Your eyes were wild with playful fury, and your nose was rosy despite your efforts to hide it from the wind. Sheepishly, Tom rubbed the back of his neck with a chuckle. He looked off to the side, focusing on the snow. He couldn’t bear to look at you; you were so adorable when you got passionate about things. From experience, he knew that it was written all over his face how he felt.

“You’re getting started tonight.”

“Sure, (Y/N). After we watch The Polar Express.”

You sighed and took his arm. “Alright then, let’s go.”

Face red from what he hoped you assumed was wind, the pair of you walked the rest of the way to his house in silence, just watching the snow fall. You never let go of his arm, and the butterflies nearly smothered him. When you arrived at his, however, you ran off to give hugs ‘hello’ to Nikki and Sam and Harry and Paddy and Dom, and Tom quietly covered the floor of the den with pillows and blankets (a “pillow nest,” as you’d call it), and put on the movie. He swapped his jeans for a pair of sweats while Nikki grabbed yours from the laundry room.

Before the movie was over, you were sound asleep. Tom held his breath as he moved his arm around you and drew circles on your arm with his fingers. In your sleep, you cuddled up to him, and Tom chewed on his lip. Why couldn’t he say anything? He hated being like this, but he was too afraid that you didn’t feel the same.

Once the end credits began to roll, Nikki came into the room to help Tom make a makeshift bed for you on the couch. Tom gently woke you while Nikki tucked a blanket into the couch and laid another one over the back for you to cover up with. Sleepily, you clung to him as you stood, too tired to keep yourself up. Tom tucked you in, whispering a goodnight that lacked the trade of “I love you”s he so badly wished for.

“You know, (Y/N) could be sleeping in your bed with you by now, if you’d just say something,” Nikki whispered as she walked Tom to his room.

“I know, Mum,” he replied with a roll of his eyes, mostly at himself. “But what if it’s not mutual?”

“I’d be surprised if it wasn’t, dear.”

With a shrug, Tom headed off to bed. He laid there, so close but so far from you. For what felt like ages, he scrolled through pictures of the two of you from the past few years. He could see himself fall in love with you over time, and his heart ached. All he had to do was put himself out there, but he couldn’t. Sighing, he eventually decided to sleep. Putting his phone on the nightstand, he checked the time: 01:02.

 -

 Months passed, and the pair of you spent more and more time together. The twins would refer to you as “Tom’s datemate” when you weren’t around because it made Tom’s face turn bright pink. After a while, Nikki and Dom had stopped casually mentioning that they wouldn’t mind if Tom married you, deciding that he’d tell you when he was ready. Before he told you, however, you went off to university and he started his acting career. They never told him, but Tom’s parents were beginning to worry that he’d lost his chance with you.

Then, when you came home for a break, Tom went over to visit you. You had been texting for hours, but the conversation had turned into something Tom figured he’d want to be in person for. As quickly as he could, he made the walk to your house. Before knocking, he checked the time: 01:02. It had become “your time” for whatever reason.

You swung the door open, wearing navy and white pajamas. “Come on in; I’ve just been listening to the radio in my bedroom.”

He followed you upstairs, and stayed in your room for hours. After you swore yourself to secrecy, he told you about all the amazing things he was getting to be a part of. He had an actual agent now, and the agent was helping him get real auditions! He might get to do this if he hears back, and he’s got a callback for that, and he’s just so happy, (Y/N), and he really can’t believe any of it’s happening, and he’s so glad you’re home so that he can share it with you, at least for a little while. With the huge smile you were giving him, he could have talked forever.

“…but anyway,” he started after trailing off, “what about you? How’s uni?”

“Oh, Tom, uni is amazing,” you said, your smile changing to one of nostalgia.

You told him about all the writing you’d been doing and all the pictures of the beautiful new places you’d been, and you even showed him a few pictures. Early in the semester, you had made a few friends who were from the area, so you’d eaten at all the best local places and there was this one place that you were sure he’d love if he visited. If he did manage to make it to your university, he could meet all your friends, and he could check out this tree that you really liked sitting under to read books and take pictures and watch people, and he could go on a walk at the beach with you and see the sunsets because the sunsets were always so beautiful on the water, and you wished the distance wasn’t so far because you missed him dearly as well, and you were so glad he’d come over.

“Wow, sounds like uni’s got you quite busy.”

“Oh, yes, but I’ve somehow managed to get hooked on someone there.” You blushed and looked away as Tom’s heart shattered.

“Oh?” Tom asked, doing his best to swallow his feelings that were forming a massive lump in his throat.

“I know, right? Who would have thought?” you said with a laugh.

Then, you launched into a description that seemed to go on for hours. Dark brown hair in gorgeous curls. Deep brown eyes that were apparently soul-piercing. Taller than you, but not incredibly tall. Fit, but not muscular. Had a laugh that was contagious, even when you were terribly sad. Smart, too, and helped you out in that one subject you’d always had trouble in. This “special someone” seemed like a dream come true.

“A dream and so much more,” you told Tom, and Tom felt like he could throw up.

You invited Tom to sleep on the couch “like old times” because you missed him. He told you he had promised Nikki to do chores early the next morning. A frown contorting your features, you walked him out. The hug goodbye was much shorter than usual; Tom apologized and made the excuse that he needed his sleep. Once he fell asleep, in his own bed, so far from you in more ways than one, he didn’t wake up until the late afternoon.

 -

 Years passed with things being just like they were. Every once in a while, you would bring up this “special someone” that you were always too afraid to admit your feelings to. You learned not to, because Tom would always bristle like the protective best friend you knew he would be once you found someone you really liked. Things were perfectly normal, as far as you knew. Many nights, however, Tom would lie awake, wondering how he could have let himself lose you.

One night, as Tom was getting ready for bed, he put on an old tee shirt. Immediately, he regretted his decision. He hadn’t seen you for months due to press tours; however, the shirt still held your smell so strongly he could have sworn you’d been in his arms an hour ago. Stunned, he half-sat, half-fell onto his bed. He was surrounded by your smell, and memories of you bombarded him from all sides.

Before he knew it, he was crying. Here he was, in love with his best friend who’d had no idea for nearly eight years. He had everything he’d ever wanted: He was Spider-Man, he was touring the world, he was supposedly loving life. One thing, however, was missing from the equation: you. He’d never had a single chance to share any piece of his amazing life with you, and he hated it. Everything would be perfect if only you were there to witness it, but you were off enjoying life doing things he’d never be a part of either. Though he tried not to admit it, it killed him.

Eventually, he stretched himself out, mentally scolding himself. He reached his arm out and tried to find his phone in the pitch darkness of his room. After finally being successful in his search, he dialed your phone number. He checked the time as he listened to the ringing: 01:02, as if it was fate. Gritting his teeth, he cursed the time. Of course. It just had to be 01:02. Why wouldn’t it be?

You answered on the third ring, “Hello Tom! I was just thinking about you!”

“You were?” Had he sounded too hopeful?

“Yeah! I’m coming home in a few weeks! We should plan to do lunch or something. I have so much to tell you about uni… Junior year is crazy.”

You started telling him about classes again, and about your ongoing projects, and about the cool things your friends were doing, and about how pretty everything was, and how excited you were for this and that and the other upcoming thing. Unable to contain the smile on his face, Tom lied there in the dark, just listening. Your voice had been his favorite sound since he was seventeen, and it still was at twenty-one. Still, after all this time, you had no idea. Tom was surprised at how oblivious you were. Maybe you’d just gotten used to the way he looked at you.

“But that’s not nearly as exciting as all the things you’re doing, Mr. Spider-Man! The trailer for Spider-Man: Homecoming came out a bit ago, and I loved it! I’m so excited to go and see it with my friends come next July!”

“Yeah? I really hope you like it.”

“Even if I hate the movie—which I already know I won’t, I know I’ll love Peter Parker, since I already know I love you, Thomas Holland.”

“I love you too, (Y/N) (Y/L/N),” he said with more meaning than you did.

“But hey, Mr. Superhero,” you said, your tone getting more serious. “Have you found someone to give all your love to yet?”

“Not since signing with Marvel, no,” he responded. Before. So long before.

“Awh, Tom! Are you sure you’re looking hard enough? There are tons of amazing people out there who would love to have you.”

“Yeah? Like who? Know anyone up at your uni?”

You laughed, and Tom’s heart ached. “I’ve tried so many times, but you always stop talking to them after a few dates. I obviously don’t know what your type is.”

Tom laughed too, and ironic laugh. “Guess not.” It’s you.

“Speaking of love, though, you won’t believe this!”

Then, just like that, you’d launched into yet another story about your “special someone” who you’d admired since you’d gone to uni but never told. You just admired from afar, and this person was none the wiser. Beyond words, Tom was jealous. You’d just talk and talk and talk about your friend—you always said you’d never say anything because the two of you were close. How ironic. This friend was just so smart, so kind, so gorgeous—so absolutely perfect. Even though you were in your final year at uni, Tom had always managed excuses and had never been up to visit you. He’d done this on purpose because he never wanted to meet this friend that you’d secretly fallen in love with. Maybe, if you met this friend, they’d be able to see that he was secretly in love with you.

Eventually, you grew tired enough that you were yawning every time you took a pause between stories, and then between sentences. “Tom, I think I’m gonna go ahead and go to sleep… It’s been lovely talking to you.”

“Yeah, you too. Goodnight, (Y/N).”

“Goodnight, Tom.”

“I love you,” Tom said after you hung up.

He lied in bed, trapped in the sheets and you scent, for hours. He was plagued with more memories of you than he had been before he called you. When he closed his eyes, he could see your smiling face, but all he could hear about was the one who had stolen your heart away. He covered his face with his pillow so that his sobs were muffled. He didn’t remember falling asleep.

 -

 Months passed. Every once in a while, the pair of you would catch up, but you eventually grew away from each other. Tom was always filming when you had breaks from school, and senior year ended up being extremely hectic for you. At first, Tom had tried to keep contact with you, but it proved to be too difficult to factor in all the time zone differences when he was really the only one who cared all that much.

He started worrying about other things, like founding the Brothers Trust and using his growing presence for good. Eventually, you were pushed to the back of his mind. He wasn’t sure when, but in the craziness of all the new in his life, he fell out of love with you. He had no idea how easy it had been, but it had happened.

One break, in between the European and the American pre-release press tours, Nikki was able to tell something was different. She was folding laundry when she asked him, “Hey sweetheart, I was just wondering, do you know how (Y/N) is doing? Isn’t senior year just about over?”

The question surprised him, and his answer surprised himself even more. “Actually… I have no idea. I’m not sure when we talked last.”

At the time, he was playing with Tessa, so he told himself to text you later asking you how you were. He never did, and Nikki never asked again. She suspected that Tom would bring it up if he ever heard from you. Once a few days passed with nothing from Tom, he figured that either you’d gotten too busy for him or that he’d gotten too busy for you. When Tom blew Harry off very casually when he called you “Tom’s datemate,” Nikki was sure it was the latter.

Come April, the Hollands received an invitation to come to your graduation. Tom texted you from Dallas saying that he’d be in New York when you were getting your diploma. With little thought, he wished you a congratulations that you replied some sort of “thank you” to. He didn’t really bother after that.

 -

 It’s been months since he’s spoken to you, he still considers 01:02 to be “your time.” Every time it’s 01:02, he thinks of you. Now, however, he only reminisces for a little while before letting you go. After all, he lost his chance with you, if he ever had one in the first place.

 Fin.