#chip is very hard to draw his head is shaped funny. i do like him a lot tho hes underrated

[worldssillyestanimal]

if you're still doing requests, could you maybe draw chip? ^_^

sure!! heres ur teeth man :3

[minniedaisies]

got the music in you baby

— request: by @inbangtanwetrustsstuff who asked for a one shot of poly ot7 or headcanons of what it'd be like dating ot7.

summary: headcanons of what it would be like dating ot7

— pairing: bts x reader 

— genre: headcanons, fluff

— warnings: none

— author's note: i'm sorry this took me so long to get around to, but i am so thankful you sent this request because it's bringing me back to writing. if anyone has any requests they too would like from me, please don't hesitate to ask :)

—SEOKJIN

-ˋˏ ღ - Jin is absolutely smitten with your smile, in love with your laugh.  He’ll do anything and everything to make you smile, to make you laugh.  He’s not afraid of making a fool of himself it means that you and your boyfriends are smiling and giggling.  His love language is laughter, and it comes in spades with Kim Seokjin.  But there is a side to Jin only his loves get to see, the softer, quieter side.  The side that is sometimes shy, sometimes self-conscious.  The side that knows when you need to be made to laugh, and when you just need to be quietly held.  He reads each of you like the back of his hand, and knows exactly how to care foe each of you in the way you need in any situation.  Some days that means pulling funny faces at the dinner table to make you nearly choke on your laughter after a hard day at work.  Some days that means coming into your room at night and pulling you into his arms, holding you as you fall asleep and pressing gentle kisses of promises of better days tomorrow against your skin.  He knows what each of you need without even having to be told, and while the laughter is fun, the moments you hold closest are the ones where you’re sharing a bed, bathed in the moonlight together, as he promises you a fresh start come tomorrow, a start that begins with kisses and sunshine and chocolate chip pancakes.  

—YOONGI

-ˋˏ ღ - Yoongi’s affection and love is like a softly creeping thing, unexpected and startling once it closes in on you out of the blue.  While Hobi is all big hugs and kisses peppered onto cheeks and eyelashes and an affection that is loud, loud, loud, Yoongi is the firm hand that squeezes your shoulder as he passes you sitting at the kitchen table, pouring over your university assignments, as he heads to grab a snack.  It’s him coming into your room in the middle of the night when it’s storming, just to sit with you and draw shapes across your back in the moonlight just because he knows you still get frightened of the thunder.  It’s him going quiet, in his own head sometimes too often for his own good, but will still meet your eye across the dinner table and stick his tongue out at you to make you giggle.  He’s the one you know you can go to with anything, the one who will be brutally honest with you; and who, on your bad days, will take your hand in his and say, “Give ‘em hell, darling.”  He knows what it means when you go quiet, and will come and sit by you in the stillness and wait for the storm clouds to pass overhead.  He’ll hold your hand in the rain, give you his jacket, because he knows what it is to get wet from the storm; and when the clouds clear and the sunshines again, he’ll be there to hold your hand through that too; with a smile and a playful word. 

—HOSEOK

-ˋˏ ღ - Hobi’s affection is almost as loud as his laughter.  Everything about Hobi is loud and big and calls attention to itself.  With Hobi, he treats every person he loves as if they are the most precious and treasured thing in the entire world; and you and your boyfriends are seven of the most precious things to him.  He’s always there to pull you into a hug, to grab you and tug you down onto his lap to be held and cuddled and kissed.  When he holds you in his arms, he’s always pressing kisses to your shoulder, your neck, your cheek, the back of your head.  Hobi lives for kisses and loves to dole them out to each of you.  You’re kept very well-spoiled in his affection and love.  He also lives for random surprises, coming to visit you with your favorite snacks or an iced coffee between classes, just to make you smile.  It’s not unusual for him to pick you up after your final class with a coffee and your favorite pastry.  His love language is affection, but also sharing his passion.  It’s not unusual for him to grab your hand and pull you into an impromptu dance session in the middle of the kitchen, the living room, the sidewalk.  You’ll be left giggling and breathless when suddenly he’ll dip you and kiss you, and you realize you didn’t even know the meaning of ‘breathless’ until then.

—NAMJOON

-ˋˏ ღ - Namjoon is the night owl; each of your boyfriends is to an extent, but with Namjoon, he adores the night.  It’s the time when everything just goes still, including the thoughts in his head that you know can get a bit loud at times.  One of your favorite things in the world is when he’ll wake you up in the middle of the night to come join him on a sporadic moonlit bike rides along the river.  The fact that he lets you in on these quiet moments, you treasure them deeply.  And when he’s gotten a little too far buried in his own head, stressed about a new album, a new song, a hook he just can’t quite get right, you come to him and press a kiss between his shoulders and ask that he join you for a walk.  Holding his hand, you stroll under the silver moon; and lifting his wrist to your lips, you press a kiss there; a promise that it’s going to be okay.  Aside from moonlight, and night walks, Namjoon also adores getting lost in a book, and it’s become your new favorite thing to devour whatever he’s read recently.  Upon realizing this, he’s started leaving notes in the margins for you; notes for Yoongi in red, notes for you in green.  He underlines the phrases he knows will touch you, and writes you little annotations with arrows and symbols.  You treasure each book he gives to you, a peak into the beautiful and sometimes dark, but always hopeful, pieces of him.

—JIMIN

-ˋˏ ღ - Jimin is a menace.  He flirts and flounces and flusters like no one else.  He lives to tease and be teased in return and you always find yourself hiding a giggle behind a hand when Jungkook swats him for it.  But beyond the flirting, beyond the playful games he plays, Jimin adores to be loved and to give love.  He becomes radiant with it when shown affection and tenderness.  He blushes furiously when you kiss his cheek or when Yoongi pulls him onto his lap for movie night; and he has to bite his lip to hide the smile that cracks through his face when Hobi calls him his, “Beautiful Boy.”  He’s also the most playful of you all, and it’s not unusual to see him wrestle Jungkook or chase Taehyung around for a water fight in the yard.  The group chat is completely spammed with “It you” messages directed at Yoongi.  Jimin was made to love and made to share love.  Sometimes it overwhelms you how deep his hear goes, how endless and infinite his unfettered love is.  You’ve never felt loved as deeply as the love that comes from Park Jimin.  Being loved by Jimin is one of the most greatest gifts you could ever experience, and you’re so thankful every day that you get to receive that love every single day. 

—TAEHYUNG

-ˋˏ ღ - Taehyung loves to come into your room and starfish himself across your body when you’re in bed; it’s as though no matter how close he is to you, it can never be enough.  He loves to press himself against your back, your side, hold you in his arms, and to be held in yours.  A, “Cuddle Puppy” is what Jimin affectionately has dubbed him, and you can think of no better term.  Tae adores cuddles, and is always wrapping himself around you, holding you as if he were a blanket keeping you safe and warm, as he presses kisses to your skin.  Some nights, that’s all he needs; to just lay down on top of you, staring down at you with such intensity that it’s hard not to look away as his eyes scan across your face, as if he’s trying to memorize every freckle and detail.  The gold pendant or chain of his necklace brushes your nose, your lips, as he stares at you, eyes filled with adoration, with worship.  His intensity is overwhelming and sometimes it’s hard to know what to do with that, so you hook your finger in the chain of his necklace and pull him down for a kiss.  Serves him right to be made the breathless one for a change.

—JUNGKOOK

-ˋˏ ღ - Jungkook is a baby deer in almost every aspect.  His big doe-eyes are always watching you as if you’re this precious thing that he’s scared too hold too tightly to or else you’ll grow skittish and run.  He’s got nothing to worry about though, you’re completely wrapped around his little finger and you are absolutely besotted with him.  Jungkook is the type to need assurance, to be reminded; so you take it upon yourself to show him every day just how much he means to you, and how much you adore him.  You love all your boyfriends so deeply, but there’s an extra little soft spot for him, who is the baby of you all.  It goes unspoken, but Jungkook is everyone’s “Little Love” and it’s not unusual for you all to argue over who gets to cuddle him on movie nights.  Usually he winds up in Jin’s lap, or Namjoon’s.  Jin who brushes his hair off his neck to kiss him there and make him squirm.  Namjoon who spends more of the movie than not, tickling him just to make those bunny teeth appear and hear that bubbly giggle of his.  But while he is the baby of you all, his heart contains such a profound and mature love.  He’s written so many love songs for you that take your breath away.  It’s not always easy for him to say what he feels in words, but putting a pen to paper, that’s when it comes easiest.  He’s given you entire notebooks of love songs and love poems, each so beautiful that they make your heart catch in your throat.  And at night, when you hold him in your arms and press kisses to each of his freckles, you hope he knows that your love for him is as vast as the galaxies in his eyes.

[mcwriting]

The Marriage Project (1)

Omg I can’t believe it’s taken me THIS long to post this. I wrote this chapter probably in like April or May and it freaks me out to finally post but here it is!

My slow burn (American) High School AU with Tom Holland!

All the general info for this series is on the story masterlist, but I’ll list warnings and word counts on every chapter. Chapters will be much longer than my typical 2000 or less babies

Warnings: This will become a mature story in the future (no smut; more info on masterlist). Some profanity in this chapter

Word Count: 4140 (I told you!)

% approximately the 2nd week of August %

Ah, senior year. One last year of high school, one last year of seeing the people you’ve grown up with every day.

You’ve been told it’s easy. The best year ever. And yeah, maybe it will be. It’s not like you’re taking too many hard classes or overloading yourself with extracurriculars, aside from volleyball, soccer, the National Honors Society, and quiz bowl.

(Okay maybe it was a little much, but you loved it anyways)

The only real problem was the certified thorn in your side, Tom Holland. 

He’d essentially been your mortal enemy since the sixth grade when he beat your mile time by only a few seconds. 

Now, it’s not that he was a bully or anything, he was just so insufferable to be around. And yes, everyone always says boys pick on girls when they like them, but rest assured that wasn’t the case. You’d both always hated each other, nothing more. 

You were always competing, and because of that ended up in the same place a lot.

He was in all your honors classes, in NHS, played boys soccer, and did quiz bowl. The only thing you had to yourself was volleyball except, oh wait, his younger brother’s girlfriend was on the team and Tom was his ride home every day.

All these thoughts raced through your head as you walked in on the first day, sitting down in AP calculus as soon as you finished up at your locker. 

Everyone did the “how was your summer?” and “long time no see!” as students filed in. Eventually walked in Tom, and you shot each other a glare as he sat down right next to you.

“Holland.”

“Y/l/n.”

Everyone around you groaned. They all knew you two were forces to be reckoned with and probably dreaded spending another year listening to the two of you bicker everyday.

Though you were often in close proximity, you never really talked much, except to argue. Rarely did you agree unless it was on basic facts, and even then was it hard to admit sometimes.

Because of this, you typically resigned yourselves to only speaking when it came to grades so you could keep a mental tally of who was in the lead. You were both in the running for valedictorian at the end of the year, and you were not about to let Tom win.

%

The week was almost over and things had gone smoothly for the most part. 

Sure, you and Tom had had a couple of spats, but nothing that wasn’t handled quickly. 

He’d been to all of your volleyball games so far, even the summer ones, which meant he was forced to watch you dominate the court as both a setter and right side hitter.

It was a nice little satisfaction. 

Especially because you’d watched him throw some horrendous passes in the preseason football game last week that led to a loss by one touchdown. (Okay, he’d had some good passes too, but they were lucky shots).

You settled into your seat in senior home economics Friday before lunch. The class was your school’s attempt at teaching some life skills for rising adults. For the most part however, it was a glorified cooking and sewing class. You didn’t mind per say, since you could cook up a pre-snack lunch sometimes.

Most of your friends were in there, including your best friend Alexis, whom you hadn’t seen all morning.

You, Alexis, and two other girls stood around a mixing bowl with the ingredients to make chocolate chip cookies since it was a Friday, which Mrs. Flynn called “dessert day.”

“Oh! Before I forget,” your teacher, Mrs. Flynn, started getting everyone’s attention. “This year we’re doing something new for this class! Next week I’ll have you all split into pairs for a semester long marriage project! I will be drawing names out of a hat, so don’t get too comfortable yet. Anyways, be thinking on what kinds of careers you might want and things of that nature! Okay, now get back to your desserts!”

The whole room broke out into chatter the last part of the hour-and-a-half class, people speculating who might end up with who and what jobs they’ll get.

“Oh my God, wouldn’t it be funny if y/n got Tom?” Alexis stated as you stirred chocolate chips into the dough. The other girls laughed as you just snorted.

“Yeah, I’d rather lick the inside of the microwave than be paired up with him for a semester,” you replied, earning more laughter from your friends.

You assumed Tom’s friends were saying the same however, because when you looked over to see how bad their dough looked, he was rolling his eyes as his group pointed in your direction.

%

The next week came and went, and it was once again Friday. Or, as Mrs. Flynn was calling it, Wedding Day.

Every time she’d pull a couple’s name, she was going to make you both come to the front of the class and exchange plastic wedding rings and sign a fake marriage license.

Yay.

Everyone chattered excitedly as she tore up the strips with your names and mixed them around. Finally the time came for her to start the drawing.

“Okay, friends. First up we have...” she drew the first name. “Katherine and... drumroll please?” 

The class drummed their hands over their thighs.

“Chris! Come on down folks, let’s get this marriage on!”

She “married” the first couple, and then continued to draw. You had to admit that you were a little nervous, but still eager to see who you’d get.

Two couples later, she pulled Tom’s name.

You shot him an eyebrow raise to which he returned a discreet middle finger. You rolled your eyes as you prepared a drumroll for Mrs. Flynn.

“And his lucky partner is... y/n!”

“What!” you both exclaimed simultaneously.

Almost the entire class burst into laughter.

“Mrs. Flynn, this has to be a mistake,” you said.

“Yeah, can’t we have a redraw?” Tom asked. 

You hated that he was agreeing with you.

“Nope! You get who you get and you don’t throw a fit! And if it doesn’t work out in a few weeks we can discuss divorce plans.”

“How about annulments,” you stated dryly, earning a chuckle from her.

“That… kinda depends on if you have kids,” she trailed awkwardly before perking back up. “Now come on down! They always say your first marriage is the most memorable!”

“Who has ever said that?” Tom asked.

“You know. They. Now just get up here and do the ring thing!” she commanded.

You both sulked up to the front of the room.

“Okay, now stand here facing each other and hold hands.”

“Do we have to?” Tom whined.

“Yes, now do it and it’ll be over with faster.”

He groaned, rolled his eyes, and grabbed your hands, holding them loosely.

“May I have the rings please!” Mrs. Flynn asked Caroline, the girl whose desk was closest that she’d asked to be designated ring bearer. She handed over the basket to let you both choose from the mix.

You took a silver colored ring with a faux white diamond in the shape of a star. Tom chose one with an oval “ruby.” You couldn’t help but notice how every single person was on edge watching the two of you.

“Okay now Tom, repeat after me. I, Tom Holland, take thee, y/n y/l/n, to be my wedded wife to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do us part.”

He mumbled through the vow, avoiding eye contact, and slipped your star ring onto your finger. You were surprised at how gentle he was, carefully caressing your hand and making sure the ring faced straight up once it was on your finger.

You, too, said the lines and placed the ring onto his left hand.

“Alright. It is with the power vested in me by this very school that I am proud to now pronounce you husband and wife! You may now air kiss!”

You took a deep sigh and pretended to kiss each other's cheeks. 

“Class, I’d like to introduce you all to Mr. and Mrs. Holland!”

They began to cheer and clap and laugh when you interjected.

“Uh, no. It’s Mr. and Mrs. y/l/n.”

Tom began to argue with you when Mrs. Flynn stopped you both.

“Alright fine, we’ll do a combined name. How’s the y/l/n-Holland family sound?” she asked, writing your names on the fake marriage certificate.

With reluctance, Tom agreed to having your name first and you both signed the paper.

Finally you were able to sit back down where your friends were waiting.

“So what was that about licking the microwave?” Alexis asked.

“Oh shut up.”

%

After your volleyball game (another win!), you and Alexis conversed over cheese fries at your favorite diner.

“Still not ready to talk about today?” she asked. You shook your head.

Alexis had been paired up with Caroline. They were both straight, but you had both been friends with her since freshman year and they got along well.

Today had just been the marriages, and next week you’d be learning more about your family dynamics.

“I’m just so pissed at him. This afternoon in senior art he told all the guys in there that he was going to make it as hard as possible for me. I mean jokes on him, he’s going to want to get an A too, but he was just so smug about it. He also strung his stupid ring on that necklace he’s always wearing. What’s that all about?”

“I mean you’re still wearing your ring. But yeah, that is a little weird.”

“I’m wearing mine because compared to some of the others, the star is actually cute.”

“True. I got unlucky with the selection,” Alexis admitted, digging hers out of her purse to show you a big square blue gem.

“I just wish there was a way to get back at him after all these years. I mean, we’ve been at each other’s throats for almost six years but nothing has ever seemed to really hit hard. This is the last year I’ve got to really make it count.”

Alexis gave you a look, one you knew to be quite mischievous. 

“You know what’s the best way to get revenge on a guy?” Alexis asked.

“Uh, no, but by the look you’re giving me it seems to fall under Carrie Underwood ’before he cheats’ directive.”

“No, dumbass. You make his family fall in love with you.”

It took a second to process what she said before you could give a decent reply.

“You’re kidding right? His family already knows who I am because of all the stuff we’re in together. They probably also know about our rivalry. I mean, he’s told his brothers to never become friends with me.”

“And you know that, how?”

“The libero is Sam’s girlfriend. She’s been spilling tea for me for the past year.”

There was a break in the conversation as the waiter brought your meals out. Once he was gone, you spoke up again.

“Look, do you really think that would work? I mean sure I’d get under his skin, but it doesn’t really constitute revenge, does it?”

“Look at it this way,” Alexis put down her burger so she could splay her hands out in front of her. “If you can get on everyone else's good side, they’ll all talk about how much they love you and he’ll be forced to listen. If he really hates you, it’ll drive him crazy.”

You thought on it for a minute as you chomped on a chicken tender. 

“Alright, I’m in. If it doesn’t end up working, I still have all of next semester to mess with him anyways. Now if I can just figure out how to really get to know his family…”

%

By the time Monday rolled around, you and Alexis had done some more scheming, but your plan wouldn’t even begin to be put in action until your volleyball games Wednesday and Friday, when you’d try to talk to Sam.

You sat down in home ec, where today you’d be picking careers. The catch, however, was that your family unit would have a set income, so each couple had to decide how it would be split up.

“Y/l/n-Holland family, you’ll be making $200k a year,” Mrs. Flynn announced, handing you the slip of paper. “Get together and decide who’s getting what jobs.”

“At least we’ll be rich,” you thought as Tom plopped into the seat next to you unhappily.

“So I’ll be the doctor and you’ll be the trophy wife, right?” he asked immediately.

“Hah, good one. I think we all know that I’m the smarter one here and wayyyy more likely to get into med school than you. And don’t call me trophy wife. I mean, what, you think I’m hot now? Can’t wait to tell everyone that little number.”

His ears turned beet red and he balled a fist.

“I don’t think you’re hot, except maybe hot shit. It’s a figure of speech.” he spat.

“Oh get over yourself. I know I’m hot anyways. Let’s just both pick jobs that earn $100k so we can be equal. How’s that sound?” 

“Fine.”

He played with the plastic ring on his necklace as you looked up jobs on the computer. After a half hour of searching, Tom and you decided that to be fully equal, you’d both take the same job as physician’s assistants.

“Just so you know, I’ll never actually be anyone’s assistant,” he said.

“Oh yeah? Ten years time if you’re lucky I’ll hire you as mine.”

He rolled his eyes. 

“Hey everyone, since class is almost over, we’re gonna wait to draw how many kids you’ll have and other financial things Wednesday. See you then!” Mrs. Flynn called out as students packed their things.

“We have to have kids, too?” Tom asked incredulously.

“Good thing it’s fake. I’d hate to see you as a parent,” you shot smugly, earning another middle finger from him that left you laughing.

%

Wednesday came kids, and thankfully all you got were twin girls, age 9. The project didn’t make you carry around flour babies or anything like that, you just had to account for them in your weekly budgets. 

There goes the annulment plan, though.

Each week, Mrs. Flynn would be drawing something new for you all that would either be good or bad for your budgets, and it was up to you to figure out what to with the funding, or lack thereof. You also had to come up with a story each week that explained why money was put somewhere or what your “family” did that week. 

 She would also be doing progress checks, so you couldn’t wait until the end of the semester to do all the work. By the end, each couple would have to give a presentation over what they did and learned.

“Okay, so we each get to name one. That’s pretty equal,” you stated, thinking up baby names.

“Well I like Elizabeth,” he almost immediately replied, writing it down on one of the “birth certificates” you’d been handed by Mrs. Flynn.

“That’s… surprisingly good. I’ll go with Francesca. What about middle names? I like Rose.”

“Hm. How about Opal? Then they’ll have the same number of letters in their names.”

You were surprised at how much though he put into this, but let it go as you wrote your child’s name down.

“By the way, we need to plan time to get together and write a budget and find a house this weekend. I have a volleyball game Friday so how about Saturday?”

“I have football practice Saturday.”

“Well yeah but only until like 10 right? We could just meet at like 1. We’re doing construction at my house right now so could we do it at yours?” 

You spoke sweetly in an attempt to receive a yes and put your plan into motion. Tom sighed and thought about it.

“I mean I guess. But you’re only going to be there to work on the project and then leave right?”

“Uh, duh. The less time with you the better.”

“Likewise.”

%

Tom and Sam weren’t at the volleyball game Wednesday, so you had to wait until Friday’s.

Friday was muffin day in home ec, so you thankfully didn’t have to talk to Tom. Instead, you and Alexis discussed the plan of getting Tom’s family on your side as you mixed up batter.

Later that afternoon, you watched from afar as Sam and his girlfriend, Julia, sat on the bleachers speaking. It was still an hour until game time and coach had asked you to round up the girls for stretching.

“Hey, Jules!” you called, jogging over to where she was. “Oh, hey Sam!” He looked at you like you were crazy before responding.

“Uh, hey y/n.” He gave a slight head nod.

“Anyways, coach wants us to start warming up. Wanna be my partner today?” 

“Um yeah. Sure. See ya later babe,” she said, giving Sam a quick peck on the cheek before standing up to follow you.

After another win, you were helping take down the net and noticed Julia once again talking to Sam while Tom stood a few feet away looking bored. 

“Hey, could you wrap up the net? I need to do something real quick,” you said to another teammate as you headed over.

“Hey, Jules! Solid digs today! You were making my job way too easy,” you joked.

You could see from the corner of your eye Tom look up at you in annoyance.

“Ahaha thanks girl. But I can’t take all the credit. You were on fire tonight. What was that like 15 aces? And your hits? Incredible,” she replied.

“Yeah, you were amazing tonight,” Sam added. 

“Ohhhkay we can stop the compliment parade on y/n now. We need to go anyways, Sam, mom wants us home,” Tom interjected, putting an arm out in front of his brother, who was rolling his eyes.

“Alright fine. We still on for dinner tomorrow?” Sam asked his girlfriend. She nodded and they exchanged a quick hug and kiss.

“I’ll see you tomorrow too, Tom,” you said. “I’ll bring my laptop.” 

Sam looked at him in confusion.

“Yeah whatever,” was all Tom could say to you as you strutted off to the locker room.

%

You stood nervously on the front porch of Tom’s suburban home. You had texted him when you parked but now dreaded actually going inside. 

After shifting back and forth for a minute, you finally rang the doorbell. 

It was only a few seconds later that the door opened, revealing Sam’s twin Harry. He looked confused.

“Y/n? What are you doing here?” 

“Hey Harry. Tom and I are supposed to be working on a school project today and he said to come over at this time so...” You awkwardly shifted your backpack straps and looked down.

“Tom! Someone’s here to see you!” he yelled out, making you snort.

He appeared shirtless in the doorway and looked at you blankly.

“Oh. It’s just you.”

“Just me? What did you just forget that we have to work on our project today,” you replied, holding up your left hand to point to the plastic ring on it.

“You’re still wearing that? Why?”

“Firstly, the little star is cute. And secondly, you don’t have a lot of room to speak, Tom. Yours is still on your necklace,” you pointed to the chain around his neck, to which he instinctively reached up and grabbed the ring, twisting it between his fingers. 

“Touche. Now come on, let’s just get this over with.” He opened the door wider and let you in, locking it behind you. 

As he led you down a hall covered in photos towards the stairs, his mom stepped out, almost running into her son.

“Oh, sorry.” she looked at you, “Y/n? What are you doing here? It’s nice to see you.”

“Nice to see you too, Mrs. Holland. Tom and I have to work on our home ec project and we couldn’t do it at my house.”

“Oh dear just call me Nikki. And I do remember him mentioning something about a project. Are you the one he’s married to? I never thought I’d see the day.”

Tom tensed up and clenched his jaw while you gave a light chuckle, holding up your left hand again.

“I hate to say it, but yeah. You’ll probably be seeing a lot more of me throughout the semester.”

“Well you kids have fun. And Tom, honey, would it kill you to put on a shirt?”

He went red again and you had to stifle your laughter.

“I was just on my way to do that, mom. Come on y/n,” he mumbled, grabbing your wrist and dragging you up the stairs.

You turned and waved at Nikki one last time as she called up behind him,

“And make sure to keep the door open!”

He was totally embarrassed by that, and made it a point to shut the door behind him once you made it to his room. Finally you could let out a hearty laugh at his expense as he dug through his drawers and pulled out a simple black t-shirt.

“Finally. I was getting tired of looking at your man boobs,” you quipped, looking around the room.

“Ha ha. Good one,” he shot back dryly. 

You were surprised at what his room looked like, though you didn’t know what you’d expected. It was very neat with sleek grey walls. His blue and grey bedding was made up with decorative pillows laid out. On his desk were a few random school papers and a computer, and one shelf held some Spider-Man paraphernalia while another contained medals and ribbons and trophies. 

You dropped your backpack to the ground and pointed up at one figurine.

“Hey, that’s pretty cool,” you said sincerely.

“Yeah, I’m sure you think so,” he replied sarcastically, rolling his eyes.

“Uh, no. I’m serious. It’s actually really dope.” 

He looked taken aback at your compliment, and even to you it felt weird to be saying that out loud about Tom of all people.

“Oh. Well uh. Thanks. Spider-Man was my favorite growing up. But let’s just get to work.”

After an hour of sitting on his carpet searching for a house and arguing over general money allocations,

“Yes Tom, tampons actually cost like $7 for 30 of them and most girls need at least one box a month. And that’s just one factor of personal hygiene. Do you even condition your hair?”

“I’ll have you know my hair is well moisturized. I just don’t ever have to pay for it.”

You finally came to an agreement on the week’s budget. 

Packing up your things, you looked up at Tom who was now sitting on the side of his bed scrolling through social media.

“So next week. Your first game of the season, yeah?” you said, remembering that September was already almost here. 

“Oh yeah. You coming? I’d hate for you to see just how incredible I am.”

“Psh whatever. I saw your throws at preseason. But yeah, I’ll probably just rinse off after my volleyball game and head to the field. Gotta see what cuties they’ve got on the other team.”

“Ugh gross. You know you’ll regret saying that when half the school is swooning over me in the stands.”

“The only thing you’d ever see me swoon from is dehydration. And that’s a pretty weak excuse already.”

You stood and Tom got up to lead you back out.

“Oh, I think I know the way. You don’t have to take me.”

“Yeah I do. Gotta keep my eyes on those grubby little fingers of yours. Who knows what you’d do unsupervised.”

Before you reached the door, Nikki spotted you from the living room.

“Done so soon? Wow, good job guys. Come back any time y/n!”

“Thanks, Nikki,” you called back to her, then turned to Tom. “So same time next week? We can do it at my place if you want.”

“Nah let’s just do it here. I’m always exhausted the day after a game and I don’t really want to get up.”

Okay then

“Well, see ya Monday then. Bye.”

You were halfway down the sidewalk when Tom called out, “Be safe,” before shutting the door. You stopped in your tracks in shock, but eventually got into your car.

What really mattered, though, was that you were already on Nikki’s good side.

1 down, 4 to go.

%

Yay! It’s finished! I really hope you guys enjoy this new series because I’m so excited to share it with you all! Once again, future chapters will have some mature content (s*xual harassment and mentions of assault; underaged alcohol consumption) but those chapters will be explicitly labeled with warnings.

Anyways, thanks for reading and please send an ask or message if you’d like to join my story or permanent tag list!

Tag List: @jackiehollanderr, @one-big-fangirl,

[quicksiilver]

In My Fathers Eyes

All Parts: Here

Also on AO3: Here

Part Five: The Upside Down

Word Count: 5.6k

Chapter Summary: Under the influence of the prototype device created by Tony and Bruce, Rachel lives through moments in time that had already happened.  Learning more Avengers history from the boy downstairs, Rachel finds herself a new friend.

Suddenly my eyes clamped shut and I sat up straight.  I could no longer hear any noise from the room or the men in it.  My eyes began to dart back and forth behind my closed lids and my breathing picked up only a bit.  I could only see darkness, as if I were put into my own brain that appeared to me as a darkened hallway.  Slowly, I lifted my foot and put it down realizing that I could walk where I was.  Trying to look down or at my arms was impossible , I couldn’t see any part of myself but I was somehow conscious in another world.

“Where am I?” My voice echoed, the noise vibrating off of the darkness that surrounded me.  There was a minute of silence.

“Can you hear me?” Tony asked, echoing into the dark.  Twisting my head around side to side I still could see nothing, but I nodded my head.

“Yeah,” I said, “What’s going on?”

“You’re in your brain, kid,” He said as if this were an average Sunday night for him, “We can see everything you’re seeing out here.”  I reached out a hand and tried to grab something, anything, but got nothing.

“Am I still... here?” I asked, the feeling of emptiness looming over my back.  It was growing colder, and even though it was pitch black it seemed to be getting darker.

“Yeah, you’re still here with us,” Tony said, “You’re just seeing inside.” It felt as if the coldness was wrapping around my body like a snake, pulling tighter.  I reached out again hoping to feel for the table, but I missed.  My senses were disoriented and I was dizzy.  Tony was asking me another question but his voice came through fuzzy to me.  I continued my search with both my hands now, anxiously gripping the arms of the chair and feeling for the table to get myself grounded.  I hadn’t noticed my breath or my heart rate that were now both skyrocketing the longer I fell into this panic.

“Hey!” Peter's voice cut in and I felt someone grab hold of my hands, “I got you.  I’m right out here.”  Squeezing his hands tight I tried my best to take in a deep, very shaky breath.  My hands were trembling, but Peter held them steady.  

He suddenly appeared in front of me, the scene of us meeting downstairs replaying a few feet away in the darkness.  My breathing slowed as I watched him crouch to the floor and speak to nothing.  The memory was being played from my eyes, so I couldn’t see myself.

“This is crazy,” He said slowly from outside in the room with Tony and Bruce.

“What?” I whispered, turning my head to the side.

“I’m looking at myself,” He began, “From wherever you’re standing right now... This is from earlier, when we crashed!” I couldn’t see him, but I feel like I could tell he was excited.

“Peter, watch out,” Tony said and I felt Peter let go of my hands and Tony grab onto one of them not nearly as gentle as Peter had been.  The vision of Peter dissipated and a Tony shaped figure appeared in its place.  The moment he had with Thor pressing his hammer against him was playing, the figure of Thor appearing as well.  A small smile grew on my face as I watched my uncle defend me again.

“Yeah, okay,” Tony groaned and shook my hand away as I sat there feeling better, “So that’s how this works.  Where’s my phone?” His voice moved with him as I believe he looked around the room for his cell phone.  I still couldn’t hear any other noise besides their voices.

“I feel like I’m in Stranger Things,” I said with a quick laugh.

“Oh my god!” Peter laughed, “You’re in the upside down.” He joked.  His voice was still close to me.

“Not even close,” Tony scoffed, “Pepper made me watch that show.  Here.” He placed his phone in my hands.

“I can’t see what’s on it,” I said holding it up to whoever was near me.

“Obviously,” Tony groaned, “Your painting of those things is on the screen.  Can you think about that for a second?” Instantly without me even thinking too hard about it all of the darkness around me shrunk and I was placed in my apartment in my bedroom.  Finally there was a scene around me that comforted me even in the slightest.  It was quiet, aside from a rumble of thunder outside happening every few minutes.  Tony's phone dropped from my hands.  I looked to my bed and found my mothers old quilt lying on top of it, along with a couple stuffed animals thrown by the pillows.  That blanket had been shoved in a closet for years now, knowing it was her favorite, I couldn’t bring myself to wrap up in it at night.  The walls were covered with artwork my seven year old self had drawn, along with some colorings that weren’t even on paper.  It was nighttime, the room was dim.  Lighting struck just outside the window making me jump and a woman’s voice shouted from outside in the living room.  I was having deja vu.  I had just dreamt this last night.

Lightning struck again and I wanted to fall to my knees and run away.  Outside that door was my mother chained up by one of the blue things I painted.  A frost giant, as Thor had told me they were called, and they were very much real apparently.  The anxiety I was feeling once before was back, except it was stemming from the sound of my mothers helpless cries.

“Rachel, stay with us okay?” Tony coached me, my real self showing signs of my panic, “We’re here with you, we can see and hear this, too.” A hand gripped mine again.  It was Peter.  He squeezed it once and I took another deep breath.

Looking down at myself, sure enough, I was in a Little Mermaid nightgown with chipped toenail polish and chubby little kid fingers.

“Oh my god,” I whispered, Peter squeezing my hand again, “This is the dream.  I had this dream last night.  I’m living it right now.” Lighting struck and I leapt against the wall, fear shooting down my spine.

“What dream?” Bruce’s voice came through to me, “If you talk us through this it may be easier to get through.”

“I used to dream of them.  The... the frost giants,” That word now left a funny taste in my mouth, “And I had it again last night for the first time since my mom died,” I was surprising myself with how well I could talk about this to these strangers, “There’s one here, he’s outside the bedroom door.” Silence came from the men that were with me.

“You’re only seeing a memory, kid.  It can’t hurt you,” Tony reassured me.  Taking myself away from the wall I inched for the door.  Once I was in front of it I took a hand and placed it on the door knob.  At this point in the dream I open the door and see my mother and that thing, and I bolt for the telephone.  I swallowed, hard, and closed my eyes silently counting to three.  One... two…

“What’d I miss?” Thors energetic voice bellowed into the room and my eyes shot open.  I was still in the dream.

“Thor?!” I gasped, all of my panic subsided.

“Yes,” He answered, his voice coming close, “What’ve I missed?  What’s happening here?” Confidence suddenly surged through my veins as I watched myself hold onto the door knob.  Tony’s voice echoed, explaining some things to Thor that I tuned out.  My heart was beating as if it were in my ears.  Pursing my lips together I didn’t waste another second, and I flung the door open violently.  My adrenaline was pulsing as I stepped out in the living room and looked toward the front door where my mother was found, chained in the awful restraints with the frost giant standing above her.  She screamed out my name, telling me to run, but the rest of the dream played out before I could control another movement of mine.  The telephone was there on the counter and my little feet were taking me to it, but not before I got a good glimpse at the blue monster who was staring right back at me with blood red eyes.  The scene around me began to vanish, the couches, the counter with the phone and the walls all faded away into the empty black I started out in.  What was left behind was my mother, the frost giant and me.  The monster turned to me, looking directly at me now, and walked in my direction.  I stumbled back and hurried away, trying to get as far as I could before he could reach me.  Once I was stuck he held out a hand and came so close to grabbing hold of me before I shouted.

“Stop!” I screamed, and he froze.  Silence flooded around me everywhere.  I hesitated, not knowing what to do next.  Scooting myself sideways I broke free from where I was stuck and stared at the giant.

“What’d she do?” Bruce’s voice asked.

“I don’t know... she seems to have frozen the memory,” Tony answered, “Thor? What can you tell us about this?” My eyes drew up and down the giant, finding I wasn’t paying enough attention to detail in my drawings.  He was a light icy blue color underneath all of the navy markings, and veins covering his body.  Knowing that he was frozen where he was, I came closer and swore I could see little reflects of gold on some parts of him, but it was very faint.  He had to have been at least eight feet tall, just crouching below the ceiling of the apartment when we were in there.  I rounded him, and then placed myself back in front and looked up to his face.  His nose was sharp as was his jaw, but it was almost beautiful.  The eyes were what chilled me the most, however.  The red was so bright and they seemed as if they held onto pain, years of it.  

Reaching out a hand that now looked like my own, I poked his arm once but didn’t feel anything special.  I expected to feel a chill, or to freeze, or something spectacular, but he just felt normal to me.  Behind his arm my eyes found my mother in the same place she was before.  Stepping around the giant and going closer to her, my heart sunk to below my knees.  She was crying, her hazel eyes were wide and full of fear.  Her golden hair was messy on top of her head in a ponytail with a scrunchy from a pack of six we used to share with each other.  She looked beautiful.  She always did to me, despite everything.  Her youth stuck with her until the day she left me.  I swear she never aged a day over twenty five.

Looking at her now my heart was being squeezed inside my chest.  The pain written on her face killed me, and the lump in my throat grew until I let out a sob, squatting down, dropping my head against my knees.  I looked up to her and reached out a hand, grazing it against the side of her cheek that felt warm.  Instantly comforting me.  A single tear fell from the corner of her eye and onto my pinky finger.  

In an instant she faded away, as did the giant, and my real eyes opened with a huge gasp from my lungs.  The room was blurry and way too bright.  Holding up a hand I shielded the light away until I could see properly, while I sucked in air like I had been underwater for a half hour.

“Kid, keep breathing,” Tony said from in front of me.  I looked toward him, and then looked to Thor who had his face planted on a screen on the other side of the room with Bruce.

“It’s over,” Peter said softly from beside me.  Turning my chin, I sighed with relief.  He was still holding onto my hand.  Sniffling, I pulled my hand away to wipe both of them across my cheeks to clean my tears but I couldn’t feel any.  The tears from inside didn’t make an appearance out here, and I thought what sweet irony.

“That was insane,” I said letting my weight slide me down in the chair.

“Pretty crazy from out here, too,” Peter agreed.  He asked me if I was alright, looking at me sympathetically and it clicked in my brain that he saw the entire scene, even the end with my mother.  Pushing the grief back in where it’s been kept, I simply nodded my head.

“It’s almost been three years,” I told him, “She was an alcoholic.”  No matter who I said those words to, and it was very few, it felt as if I was admitting the secret like it was myself.  I looked down at the floor, the dizziness of being under finally lifting.

“Almost fourteen for me,” Peter said to my surprise. I turned back to him with my eyebrows raised.  He smiled at my expression, “Yeah,” He sighed, “Plane crash.  Both of them.”

“I’m so sorry,” I whispered.

“Nah,” He shook his head, “Thank you, but I’m okay.  You know the crap the adults fed us in high school about it getting better?” We both cringed and laughed, “Sounds stupid, but it does.” He rested his hand over my arm.  We both fell quiet, finding ourselves in another gaze match.  His brown eyes broke away from mine and flickered all around my face, his lips growing into a slow smile.

“I see it now,” He said and I rolled my eyes with a soft laugh.

“Every single one of your Avenger friends has said it about me today, and the funny thing is, I don’t even know what he looks like,” I said.  My phone buzzed in my pocket making me jump forward.  Quickly scrambling to pull it out I unlocked it and found a few messages from Shaun.

“It was going off the entire time you were under,” Peter told me.  Glancing to him I groaned.

“It’s Shaun,” I said and I watched his face slightly change with subtle concern.

“Who’s Shaun?” He asked.

“My best friend,” I muttered, “Who is Avenger obsessed.  I’m basically living his dream right now.” Peter shook his head.

“Tell him it’s not as great as it looks,” He muttered, and I shot him a look of uncertainty knowing very well that I’ve basically been recruited to join this not as great as it looks team.  He laughed, shaking his head faster.

“No, it’s great for us.  We have the powers,” He spoke confidently.  It was my turn to shake my head, Peter’s eyebrows furrowing.

“I don’t have any,” I said.

“But, Loki-“

“Yeah, Loki,” I whispered staring toward my lap saying his name out loud that still shocked me, “He learned how to do his magic Thor told me, but he told me that I’d probably be able to learn it.”

“Children?” Tony called over to us.  Between Peter and I speaking to one another we hadn’t noticed he joined Bruce and Thor across the room.  Peter stood up attentively and I wondered why he was always so responsive to Tony.

“We’re going to be in here for a while.  Rachel, you’re probably beat,” Tony said and I agreed, my muscles were starting to ache, “It’s going to be getting late soon.  Why don’t you guys go get something to eat, and Peter you can show Rachel where she’ll be staying.” Peter answered him and then asked me if I was feeling okay to leave, and he promised we’d take the elevator.  I nodded to him, but felt stuck on Tony’s words.

“Where I’ll be staying?” I asked standing to my feet.

“Yeah,” Tony spoke as if I was restating the obvious.

“How long am I going to be staying?” I asked, hoping to finally get an answer to this question.  Tony tapped the pen he had in his hand on the table and looked around the room thinking to himself.

“I literally can’t give you an answer,” He said honestly and I felt defeated, “I have no idea how long this is going to take or what else we’re going to need you for.  This was only the start,” He gestured toward me and I realized I was still wearing the earbuds he gave me.  I took them out quickly and sat them on the table.

“We’re going to need to do this again and see what else we can find,” He said and Thor looked up to me.

“Rachel, you did great,” He smiled.

“You know who it is?” I asked, pointing to the screens.  He glanced away from me for a moment.

“No,” He said flatly, “But I’m determined to figure it out,” He frowned when he looked at me again, “I’m sorry.” His eyes were soft and I knew he was talking about my mother the same way Peter had.

“Thanks,” I smiled.

Peter and I started to leave, I followed him toward the door, but before leaving I turned back to Tony.

“What do I do about school?  Work?” I asked.  He thought to himself for a moment.

“I think Tony Stark can get you out of it,” He said and focused back on his work.  Letting them work, Peter and I left and took the elevator to another floor.  I felt my phone buzz in my hand and I remembered I never answered Shaun.

“Sorry Peter, I have to see what he wants,” I said quietly, opening my phone to my best friends messages.  The elevator dinged and we stepped out onto a floor that opened up into what looked like a giant kitchen and living room, but it filled up the entire floor.  There were TV’s, refrigerators stocked to no tomorrow, and long couches that looked extremely soft.  Peter told me he was going to grab us drinks and left me alone with Shaun’s messages.

S: Okay I know I said I wouldn’t bother you anymore but tell me why Thor just came here?!!

S: I’m still at your place and he just knocks on the door!??!  He comes in and shakes my hand

S: He’s insanely strong I thought he was going to break my wrist and he is GORGEOUS up close

S: Sorry I know he’s your uncle now

S: He stayed for like ten minutes but he just left.  He said you’re doing good!?? And that you aren’t coming home today??  I’ll cover for you at the bar.

S: Either way be safe I love you and keep enjoying your time!!!!

I smiled and tapped a message back to him.

R: They had to read my mind..... and Tony says he’s gonna have to do it again.  It was exhausting.  I’m about to eat something I’m with this guy Peter who works here with Tony.  He’s nice and I think he’s gonna help me out while I’m here.

Three dots popped up the second I sent the message.

S: The name Peter is not in my head.. you stumped me.

R: He says he’s Spiderman..??

S: SPIDERMAN!?!?!!!

Double tapping his last message I laugh reacted to it as he continued to type.

S: He’s shown you his face?!?  He’s the only Avenger who no one knows what he really looks like!!!!!  Is he old?  What’s he look like?

R: He’s kinda cute.

I sent that text with minor regret.

S: Oh SHIT!!!!  Get. It. Rach.

R: He looks like he’s our age but I dunno.  He lost his parents when he was really young so it feels kinda nice to know someone knows how I feel.

S: You know I try my best

R: I know but you know what I mean

S: I know!!  Okay stop texting me, go sleep with Spiderman.

R: Shaun!!!! No.

He only sent me back the smirking emoji, so I slipped my phone back into my pocket and joined Peter at the kitchen table he made himself comfortable at.

“Here,” Peter said as he slid a water bottle across the glass toward me, “You’re gonna need that.”

“Thanks,” I spoke softly.  Twisting off the cap I took the bottle to my lips and nearly downed half of it in a few sips, not even realizing the irritation growing in my throat.  I hadn’t eaten or drank anything since this afternoon in my apartment before being abducted to come here.

“What’d I tell ya,” Peter smirked.  Rolling my eyes I cocked my head, agreeing with him.

“Must’ve been from all the hot air in that room,” I said with a slight dig to Tony who I knew couldn’t hear me.  Peter laughed under his breath and sighed.

“Mr. Stark gets better,” He said in a reassuring tone, “I promise.  He and I went through a rough patch at some point.”  I shot him a look of surprise.  There was no way I could imagine Peter and Tony fighting with the way Peter seemed to obey his every command, or the way Tony seemed to want to protect Peter when the topic of battle came up earlier tonight.

“What’s wrong?” Peter asked, taking a sip of his water keeping his eyes on me.

“I guess....” I started and then shrugged my shoulders before I continued, “I can’t see you guys having a rough patch with how I’ve seen you guys act today.” Peter looked to his lap before displaying a proud smile, however it soon turned mischievous and showed me a new Peter.

“I met Mr. Stark when I was fourteen,” He began, “He needed me on his team to help fight the other Avengers,” My expression fell confused, “Yanno when the big guys had to sign the agreement that they belonged to the government?” He asked, I slowly shook my head and he waved the thought away with his hands, “Well that had to happen, so Mr. Stark recruited me to help him.  Then I wasn’t considered an Avenger yet, so as every fourteen year old would, I really tried my best to prove myself to him,” Peter was sitting forward in his chair now, his chest leaning against the glass edge of the table.  

When he spoke he used his hands and it gave me a subtle hint that he was from here, New York.  All native New Yorkers use their hands to talk.  He was so expressive with his story, his eyes beaming with pride and excitement.  There was a single small curl that had fallen onto his forehead and I couldn’t help but allow it to stir up those feelings inside me again.  Between the confidence he held as he told me his origin story and just his complete appearance in general, I think I’m feeling something stronger than just some little butterflies.

“He took away my suit, my webs... Basically everything,” His voice fell slightly and he paused letting his eyes gaze around the room before landing back on me, “I realized how much he meant to me and how much I looked up to him,” He slowly smiled, “So I did my best to listen to him, and he did his best to listen to me.  We spent a lot of time together before he officially made me an Avenger, and now I get to work beside him when I’m not out doing things for New York.” I nodded, taking all the information in and figuring out why Peter was so loyal to Tony without needing to hear the words.  He was a father figure to Peter, and it was clear that Tony needed Peter just as much.

“Still,” I said, ripping the paper label off my water bottle, “He doesn’t get on your nerves?” Peter rolled his eyes and laughed, making me smile.

“Constantly,” He admitted, “But it’s cool because I get on his right back.” Smiling wider I glanced up to his smug grin.  He was sitting back in his chair now, arms folded across his chest.  The muscles in his upper arms were precisely defined, even in the long sleeves he was wearing, and as my growing tired eyes looked back to his, he squinted curiously.  His smile had faded and I suddenly felt guilty for shamelessly checking him out.

“We gotta eat,” He said to my relief, and twisted in his chair to look toward the counters behind him, “Friday?” He asked aloud, speaking into the air.  I lowered my eyebrows in confusion.

“Hello, Peter,” A female voice came from out of nowhere making me jump, “What can I do for you?”

“I’m feeling hungry.  Can we get a pizza, please?” Peter asked her.  Looking around the room I expected a woman to walk out from somewhere to answer him, but she spoke from nowhere again.

“Give me ten minutes, Peter,” Friday responded and Peter lifted a thumbs up into the air before turning back toward me.

“Who the... What?” I asked simply, letting my confusion do the talking.

“Oh, that’s Friday,” Peter said, “She’s a program created by Mr-“

“Stark,” I finished his sentence, cutting him off.  He nodded happily.

“She’s everywhere I am pretty much,” He said, “In my suit, in this building, in my phone... she’s great.”

“Thank you, Peter,” Friday chimed in, making me jump once more.  Peter smirked.

“Anytime, Friday,” He grinned, his eyes stuck on me again, “I got her from Mr. Stark when I became an Avenger.  He had an almost too close near death thing happen to him.  It wrecked him for a little while, that was the longest I went without seeing him since I had started working with him,” I kept my eye roll to myself when I heard that it was only six days, “But when he came back he had Friday and since then she’s been my number one girl.  She’s with all of us now, actually.” Friday chimed in with another thank you that got both Peter and I to laugh.

In the time it took Friday to get a pizza for Peter and I, which was incredible because this invisible AI system made us a literal pizza, Peter told me about the rest of the Avengers team and what they had been through in the years they’ve been together.  I was silent for most of it, enjoying the pizza that was unlike any pizza I’d ever tasted, which is crazy because I’m a New Yorker, and I let my facial expressions do the talking as Peter spoke.  He was honest about never properly meeting my father.  He had only ever heard stories about him and seen photos and listened in on conversations had by other Avengers about him.

When the two of us were finished eating we sat back and we each yawned, Peter first and I second.  We finished the entire pizza and looked at each other happily full.  I smiled and sat forward.

“Thanks for the history lesson,” I teased.

“Anytime, I’ll be here... for life,” He joked and both of us laughed.

I learned about Socovia, a place the team saved from robots before Peter’s time here, Wakanda, Vision and Jarvis, but I was mainly intrigued with the story between Steve and a man named Bucky Barnes.  He had a history like Steve only he was under control by the bad guys, a group called Hydra who were long gone by now.  It was cool to know the team was cool with what was between Steve and Bucky, because I was one of them as well.  

Steve was bisexual, as told by Peter, and so was I.  It was a relief to hear this actually, that I’d be accepted if they all knew.  When I asked if Bucky was as well Peter shook his head and said that now they were both living in this present time Bucky found that he could be himself without facing the dangers of the world and finally told them all he was only into guys, and that all the women he involved himself with back then was to try to condition himself to be straight.  That part of the story hurt my heart, but Peter ended it by saying that Steve helped Bucky through his transition to come back to Bucky and not The Winter Soldier.

It felt a lot easier to listen to Peter than it did to listen to Thor, as comforting as my uncle seemed.

“I’m beat,” I said pushing my plate away from me, “And stuffed.”

“Same,” Peter sighed, “I’ll show you where you’re gonna be staying.” He nodded to the elevator and we both stood up, walking toward it.  Our sleepy selves bumped into one another by the door and I laughed under my breath as Peter looked at me with a small smile on his pretty lips.  I took a deep breath and pushed that sudden intrusive thought away.  When did I ever think of someone's lips as pretty?

“Thank you, Friday,” Peter said over his shoulder.

“Yeah,” I said looking at the table, “Thank you,” I said unsure of where to speak.

“You’re welcome,” Friday responded, “Please be safe.” Peter groaned aloud and I swallowed hard ignoring what the invisible woman was saying.

“Sorry,” Peter mumbled as we stepped inside the elevator together, “I’m not allowed to have friends here apparently.” He crossed his arms and looked up at the small screen with changing numbers on it as we went down two floors.

“You’ve had other people in here?” I asked curiously seeing if he would give any information up about his love life.

“Yeah,” He said as the doors opened to an open room that was lined with doors, “But just friends though.  I never really... dated anybody.” He spoke carefully, almost embarrassed by what he just told me.  A happy feeling struck me and I smiled internally.

“Me either,” I said quietly and Peter looked at me as we approached the third door on the left of the hallway.

“Really?” He seemed surprised, “I mean, I don’t mean that’s a bad thing, I just...”

“It’s okay,” I laughed once, “It’s not a bad thing.”  We shared a moment.

“I’m glad we have a lot in common,” He nodded, “It’s been pretty lonely here.”  Knowing he was sort of in the same situation as me I felt comforted by his words.

“I’m glad we do too,” I returned his nod and he smiled then pointed at the door.

“This is you,” He said.

“Thanks,” I said with a breath, ready to get into bed and sleep off this day.  Peter started to take a few steps backwards from me, “Where do you stay?” I asked before he got too far from me.  He leaned against the door across the hall.

“Here,” He put a hand on the doorknob and we shared a smile.

“Goodnight,” I said and he said it back, then we both went into our rooms.

Inside there was a king bed covered in comfy blankets and pillows waiting for me.  The floor had white carpet and the walls were a subtle shade of blue that matched the blue pattern on the bedspread.  This room looked as if it was as big as my entire apartment, maybe even a little bit bigger.  There was a TV on the opposite wall from the bed, and two lounge chairs at the end of the bed pointing at it.  A small wooden table was between them and sitting on the dark stained top of it was one of my big overnight bags I bought myself when I started high school.  Confused, I unzipped it slowly and found almost all of the clothes I owned inside of it.  A note was shoved between the pairs of jeans.

    Thought you would find this helpful.  There’s another bag in the bathroom.  No need to thank me, just know that I’m with you and here for you.  - Thor

Turning around I found a door and took a deep breath, a feeling of excitement washing over me.  My own room, my own bathroom, all of this is my space to be me.  

Folding the piece of paper I sat it down on the bed and started to unpack my clothes separating them into their piles.  I put them away in the dressers stained with the same color as the table when something in the corner by the bathroom door caught my eye.  An easel, a tall easel, was leaning against the wall with canvases on the floor beside it.  There was a bin of paint tubes and paint brushes nicer than I could afford myself.  I hurried over and dug my hands into the bin fawning over how nice they looked unopened and untouched.  The best part about being an artist was buying new supplies.

I placed everything back where it belonged and took myself to the dressers to change into a new sweatshirt and sweatpants and I crawled on the mattress instantly sinking in.  Groaning at the sudden comfort I laid down quick and shimmied under the comforter forgetting to turn off the light.  Groaning again in frustration I tossed the cover off about to stand up.

“I’ll take care of it,” Friday's voice said to me and I jumped.  The lights switched off as I still sat there in shock.

“Thanks Friday,” I squeaked and she said goodnight to me.  It was a little frightening to think that she was here... somehow.  In the walls, or in the air or... something.  Laying back into the pillows that I nearly disappeared in I shut my eyes and quickly fell asleep, exhausted from an emotionally overwhelming day.

[thanksjro]

More Than Meets the Eye #13- Swerve Doesn’t Have Any Friends

Okay, let’s go ahead and get this out of the way.

It’s a FUCKING SPORTS BRA AND RUNNING SHORTS ALEX.

And don’t think I don’t see that friggin’ cleavage alien back there. You ain’t slick.

I’m going to make it a law that all comic book artists learn how to draw clothes that don’t vacuum-seal themselves to women’s bodies. Milne gets six months for this infraction alone, and Roche gets a year for the initial bra crime he committed back in Last Stand. Learn how women’s underwear works, you ninnies.

Our issue opens up with Swerve stretching his radio personality muscles.

Oh, Guido Guidi, whisk me away to flights of fancy!

Our artist for this issue is none other than Guido Guidi, ascended from fanwork to deliver us from evil with his near-superhuman ability to emulate other artists’ styles and just make things look really pretty. He was responsible for the mythos pages in the 2012 Annual, AKA the best part. He also filled in on some of the art for Last Stand of the Wreckers, not that I really noticed because he’s just that good.

Swerve lets Blurr know that while it might have looked like the Lost Light had exploded, thus killing everyone onboard back in issue #1, that isn’t actually what happened. I’m glad someone filled in the Cybertronian populace on that.

I was never great at math, but those speech bubbles might be phoning it in a bit.

Swerve says that he’s having a great time on the quest, despite all the hiccups, and we get an explanation for why this long-range communications system hasn’t been seen prior to this point. It’s been broken for a while- most likely due to the quantum jump that started the series off with a bang- but Blaster managed to get it running again. Good job, Blaster. With this little setup for our framing device out of the way, we get into the meat of the story.

Swerve is being nosey about things that weren’t any of his business, happening in a closed off room, when Drift drags him down the hall and hid him away for safety. Swerve doesn’t much appreciate being manhandled, but there’s a method to the madness here.

Drift’s nose has vacated the premises once again, so we’re just going to have to deal with that. And how shapely does one have to be to be known as “the guy with the legs”? I mean, Drift is RIGHT THERE.

Drift uses his own powerful legs to kick down the door to Cyclonus and Tailgate’s room. It turns out that the horrific screaming wasn’t the sound of a murder or sexual relations taking place, but rather that of Cyclonus singing in Old Cybertronian.

My god, he’s completely enamored with this unrepentant murder machine.

We are just all up in Cyclonus’ grill for this panel. Nothing but lips. Was this specified in the script? Because it feels like it might have been specified in the script.

Old Cybertronian, or the Primal Vernacular as some might call it, was last seen in general when Rodimus channeled the will of the trapped Titan all across Tailgate’s chest. It was last seen spoken when we met Vos, the terrible murder gremlin who turns into a gun and uses his face to cause puncture trauma.

Comic books are wild, y’all.

Now that we’ve established that no one’s being killed, Drift goes back to what he was doing earlier, with Swerve deciding to tag along because he’s horrifically lonely. He invites Drift to come room up with him, because I guess if you’re going to sell off your comatose roommate’s bed out from under him, you might as well go for the guy who’s third in command,  is probably one of the hottest guys on the ship, and slices people into chunky salsa if they try anything funny.

Drift politely declines, and awkwardly removes himself from the conversation when Swerve doesn’t take the hint, returning to his sword lesson with Rodimus.

Oh thank god, the obnoxiously pink room is back.

Ultra Magnus bursts into the room, appalled by the actions of his fellow crew members. Some of his concerns are well-placed. Others, well…

Is- is that another friggin’ retainer on those lower teeth? Why does this design choice keep showing up?

So Magnus has imprisoned roughly a third of the ship at this point, and Rodimus suggests he take a chill pill. Magnus doesn’t even know what a chill pill even is, so we’re forced to make use of our most dangerous weapon- the threat of a good time, courtesy of Swerve.

The fact that Ultra Magnus hasn’t reduced Swerve to an oil stain on the floor is genuinely astounding. The guy has zero respect for bureaucracy or proper business management. It has been MONTHS, you dinky little man, get your act together as a business owner.

Swerve takes the bribe, and soon everyone’s shipping off to Hedonia, where the drinks are plentiful and the women… well, most of the Lost Lighters don’t even know what a woman is, so that aspect doesn’t really come into play. Thanks, Furman.

Also, Rung’s back to normal. Don’t worry about it, not a big deal.

Swerve isn’t having much luck on his Roommate Quest, as Tailgate spurns his advances, stating that he’s good kicking it with Cyclonus, mainly because they’re both old as shit.

I see we haven’t quite hit the threshold on the “Cyclonus is allowed to have friends now” meter. Give it a few more issues, I’m sure we’ll get there.

Man, zero for two for Swerve on trying to get a hot roommate. Maybe third time’s a charm?

Rodimus pops into the back of the shuttle to remind everyone that their entire race is more or less despised by the entire galaxy, and to play it safe by using their holomatter avatars.

The revamp by Brainstorm and Rung is truly a blessing, because the avatars in IDW were awful to look at up to this point.

Y’all, that is HOT ROD. Jesus wept.

Getting back to Tailgate’s questionable taste in companionship, Tailgate asks if Swerve and Blurr connected right away. Swerve gives him an affirmative, then starts listing off the guy’s racing stats until Ultra Magnus plops down between the two of them, drawn in by the melodious sound of statistics.

Magnus is having a hard time relaxing, but he’s giving it his best, and I think that’s very commendable of him. It’s hard trying new things.

On the surface of Hedonia, it would appear the B-Movies are having a Pride event in the entertainment district.

Okay, moment of truth- show us those avatars!

Oh thank god, they aren’t totally hideous. Though, isn’t Rewind old as shit? I guess youth is a state of mind. Still, I can’t believe we missed out on silver fox Rewind.

Rung’s line is in response to folks at the time claiming that Rung was a self-insert character, which is interesting, because we’ve already seen what a self-insert looks like when it’s Roberts doing the inserting, and we’ve also seen his Mary Sues.

Rung, while an original character who had appeared in Roberts’ pre-professional works (a single line of text in Eugenesis, where he was a psychiatry play-on-words), he isn’t what I’d consider a Mary Sue. Mary Sues are usually stunningly beautiful, beloved by their peers, insanely talented in ways that no other character is, and typically have some sort of connection to another character that more or less forces them into the story despite not needing to exist.

Mary Sues don’t get their friggin’ heads exploded, or exist in a constantly-forgettable state. Sure, he’s the only therapist we’ve ever seen in the Transformers franchise, but there was kind of a massive need for that sort of character to be created, seeing as all of these sons of guns have PTSD and clinical depression. And, as we’ve seen in previous issues and will continue to see later on, he’s really not even that great at it.

That isn’t to say that he doesn’t have certain traits befitting such a characterization, merely that they don’t add up to equal that sort of whole by issue #13. Transformers (2009)-era Drift is way closer to a true Mary Sue than Rung is.

Anyway, where the hell did Tailgate get to?

They really just let Frodo Baggins in this bar all babybjörned up, huh? Does Tailgate even know what a baby even is at this point? Does he just think he’s a very small person? How much human media has he consumed? We haven’t gotten into the reproductive process for the continuity yet, but fresh Cybertronians aren’t exactly a one-to-one to human infants. Damn it, Roberts, what the fuck am I supposed to make of Babygate?

Whirl’s off in the corner, disguised as a 12-year old girl who’s fucking STRAPPED. Magnus has disappeared, but Rewind locates him pretty easily as Rung makes a comment about Magnus needing to make an appointment with him.

Oh hey, Verity. Been a minute. Careful, ol’ six-eyes over there is leering at you.

The fellas come back to the bar as they truly are, and sit down for a round of drinks. Whirl gets Ultra Magnus a drink that sounds disturbingly like a Cybertronian equivalent to Milk Coke, and we get a little anatomy lesson. Transformers have something called a Fuel Intake Moderation chip, something that keeps them from getting drunk on pretty much the only thing they can consume. Swerve suggests Magnus turn his off so he can have a good time- which I don’t personally agree with, but this is Captain Stick-in-the-Mud we’re talking about here. Magnus gives it a shot.

And that’s a series wrap on Ultra Magnus!

No, the man’s just got no tolerance and has been knocked the hell out by his drink. Things begin devolving. Tailgate is crying. Skids has found out that Whirl didn’t give Magnus Milk Coke at all, but instead the equivalent of liquid cocaine. Swerve is convinced he’s going to prison. Rewind is filming the whole thing.

Nobody actually checks to see if Magnus is actually dead, until Rung gets around to it. Swerve, you’re a doctor by original trade, what the hell are you doing?

The boys sit Magnus at the table to wait out his nap. Hours later, nothing’s changed, except that they’ve started up the nemesis game, and Whirl’s decided he’s going to be rude about monoformers being monoformers. Rung gives a non-answer, because that’s just who he is as a person. Skids names Misfire as his worst enemy, only because he’s still missing a good chunk of memory and can’t remember if he had a worst enemy, but still wants to contribute to the conversation.

Rung, don’t be a dick, he did his best. You were right on top of Fort Max, it was a tricky shot.

Ultra Magnus finally starts waking up, and that’s the point where everyone decides to foot Swerve with the bill for the emotional labor he’s going to have to perform by explaining just what the friggity-frack happened.

Magnus starts laughing, then crying, then offloads his troubles onto Swerve. Magnus feels like he just doesn’t fit in on the Lost Light. He’s just trying to do his job and everyone makes fun of him, or disrespects his authority. He’s trying, he really is, but he’s just not built for post-war life. He’s actually tried to leave his position on the Lost Light, but they just keep pulling him back in.

Probably doesn’t help that Rodimus seems more interested in Drift’s opinion on matters than his own SIC half the time.

Oh no, he’s making digs at the things Swerve’s sensitive about. Where is Rung?

Magnus just wants to be understood, y’know? He’s a fully realized creation. He’s got interests. Like music! And the fact that Swerve is missing his Autobot badge!

This was the point where MTMTE was still bouncing back and forth on whether it wanted to commit to the crotch badge. It was a tumultuous time for everyone, very dark days.

WHERE THE FUCK IS RUNG

Magnus, having had enough of sharing his feelings, takes another sip of his cocaine and slips back into unconsciousness. Swerve admits to his limp body that people don’t actually like him, but rather only stick around because of what he can offer- namely, a good time.

The rest of the Swerve posse comes back, with Cyclones having joined the party. Rung shows off his new model ship, which gets Rewind started on his movie collection. He pulls up the opening ceremony for the Ark 1. Y’know, the Ark 1, that ship that Cyclonus was on that disappeared into the Dead Universe for six million years. The Ark 1 that Tailgate was supposed to be on.

Before we can get started however, someone throws the model at Rewind’s head.

That someone is none other than Cyclonus, who proceeds to fly into a rage, throwing tables and shoving the still-unconscious Ultra Magnus to the floor. My word, what a reaction! What could possibly be setting him off so much? Does he not like being reminded of his fated trip to the stars? Is this a manifestation of trauma from that event?

Who knows? No time for questions, Skids is too busy punching him in the face.

Tailgate intervenes, explaining that because Cyclonus and himself are so goddamn old, the engex Cyclonus consumed is wreaking havoc on his body. He tells the rest of them to go on while he tries to calm Cyclonus down. Interesting that Rewind doesn’t have any sort of input on this, given that he is also super fucking old, but there’s no time for questions! We’ve got to get Ultra Magnus back on the shuttle in the next 20 minutes, or else they’ll be stuck on Hedonia FOREVER.

They start throwing Magnus on the floor repeatedly, trying to get his t-cog to spin up. No dice, however.

It’s 4AM. Do you know where your Domey is? Because Rewind sure as hell doesn’t.

Okay, time for Plan B.

I’m guessing not, Rung. I’m guessing not.

Using Magnus as a trampoline does the trick, and the boys are rewarded with the sight of Magnus’ alt-mode… resting on its roof, upside down. They get him sorted, pile in the cab- Rewind is driving, which leads me to believe he at least has some experience handling a vehicle. Chromedome does turn into a car…

I don’t even know what that sort of activity implies for a Transformer. We won’t go any further down this line of thought.

The boys manage to get Ultra Magnus to the shuttle in time, and all’s well that ends well!

This is about the time that Blaster knocks on the glass at Swerve to wrap things up, seeing as he’s been at this for over nine hours now. There’s one last little aside before we’re done with our story, however, and it involves just what happened in the bar after everyone else left.

Cyclonus calmed down almost immediately after the rest of the guys left, paying for what he broke and inviting Tailgate to have a seat.

Well, I say invite, but it’s really more of an order.

If you’d already figured out at this point that this jumpy little marshmallow was lying about being the biggest badass who ever lived, a gold star for you! It turns out, dear Tailgate has been crafting a fabrication, spinning a yarn, telling a tall tale since Day One on the Lost Light. The story has been feeding us a steady diet of fish the whole time!

Red herring!

Red herring!

Red herring of Tailgate’s own design! Autopedia’s mods are a friggin’ joke.

Tailgate was supposed to be a the Ark 1 launch, but it was because he was on the cleanup crew. Boy’s a sluicer, and his arm SHOULD say "waste disposal”. Through a cunning use of his wits and cold reading, Tailgate faked his way through the dismantling of the bomb on Temptoria. A smart boy, he is, if not a bit self-centered.

Which brings us to why exactly Cyclonus freaked out in the bar: he wasn’t having an episode, but rather faking a reaction to prevent Tailgate’s lie from being exposed. He still thinks that Tailgate should come clean about this whole thing, before things get really messy, but it wouldn’t be an issue of MTMTE without some raw-ass emotions getting thrown about.

Cyclonus, who hasn’t allowed himself to feel anything other than simmering rage or national pride for over six million years, is beginning to feel something for Tailgate.

That feeling is sympathy, and maybe a little pity.

He offers to teach Tailgate a song to help him feel better, because that’s what he does when he has feelings.

And given that Cyclonus seems to sing often enough that Tailgate’s gotten used to the horrific sound, it might be that Cyclonus has feelings a hell of a lot more often than he lets on.

Roberts, how many times are you going to make Tailgate cry? How much pain are you going to subject him to before you’re satisfied?

The scene closes out on the two of them getting their karaoke on in the empty bar, in the god-awful language that is Old Cybertronian. I can only imagine that they get kicked out of the bar pretty quickly after this.

Getting back to the present, Swerve has finally, finally finished his story, closing out with an invitation for Blurr to come visit Swerve’s.

Blaster gets ready to shoot one hell of a voice message at Blurr, but there’s a problem; the number Swerve has isn’t long enough to be a personal hailing frequency.

Yeah, turns out that Tailgate isn’t the only liar on board the Lost Light.

Four million years ago, Swerve met Blurr at a publicity event, got way too friendly with a celebrity, pestered the guy until he gave him a fake number, and has convinced himself that he made a life-long friend to this very day.

Big oof.

Later, back at Swerve’s, Swerve is busy cleaning the glassware when Ultra Magnus comes in, sober and having just gotten out of surgery to fix his fuel tanks. Guess that second sip of Nucleon really wasn’t a good idea.

Swerve tries to tell a lie about what happened the night before, only to have the dawning horror that Magnus remembered the entire night, as he’s presented with a new badge. Swerve, bolstered by the fact that, while Magnus didn’t enjoy the previous evening, he appreciated having company, begins to ask Magnus if he’d want to room with him.

Wow, zero for three! That’s rough, buddy.

Kind of a bummer end to this whole issue, but it was still decently light, tone-wise, for MTMTE. A great deal of fun was had, in between all the mortifying reveals of our characters inner demons.

...Well, shit.

[magic-and-moonlit-wings]

Chapter 50: Insecurity Abounds

Becoming The Mask 

Why wasn't it working?!

Jim ducked the fire jets and somersaulted out of their path.

The Forge floor tilted, sending him sliding back to where he’d started from. He braced his feet against the pop-up turret that spewed fire and launched himself up to grab the next turret, the one that shot darts. He used the higher turret to swing himself back to level ground. Jim blocked the darts that followed him with his sword.

Gunmar’s Eye hadn’t had any noticeable effect on the Amulet yet.

Jim wove through and around the pendulum axes.

When he’d put the Heartstone chip in the Amulet, he’d been able to summon a knife in minutes.

He threw several knives at a target and used his sword to cut another in half.

Of course, he’d been actively hoping for a knife when he’d cleaved that stone, and he didn’t have any solid idea what this new one was supposed to do.

Jim made it to the Soothscryer and inserted his hand.

The Forge’s mechanisms shut down. The past Trollhunters did not draw him into the Void to advise him on how to find out the properties of a newly cleaved stone.

“Okay, let’s break down the possibilities,” Jim said out loud, in case the Ghost Council decided to chime in after all. He paced around the Soothscryer. “It’s supposed to help defeat Gunmar. It’s an eye, so … insight to his strategies? Can I spy on him through it somehow?”

Except, hadn’t Vendel said there was a stone for that already? A glimpse into your enemy’s mind …

Well, a backup would be helpful to have if it turned out they did the same thing.

“Or is it like those old superstitions where you can use a piece of somebody to harm them remotely?”

Some human cultures advised caution in disposing of one’s shed hair and nail clippings for that reason. Jim didn’t know if any other trolls had analogous beliefs, but since stone flesh was literally magical it did come up among Changelings sometimes.

“Or like magnets. Can he not touch me if I armour up with the Eye in the Amulet? Not like I can test that, or like it’ll be any use in letting me kill him.” And the Triumbric Stones were supposed to be key to defeating Gunmar, not having a stalemate with Gunmar.

“Or is the legend just inaccurate?”

Not the most appealing thought, but now that it had occurred to him it would be stressing Jim out. What if they put all that time and energy into tracking down and cleaving the Triumbric Stones and they didn’t even turn out to do anything?

“Any time you guys wanna weigh in on this,” he hinted at the previous Trollhunters.

Jim sat on the Forge floor, leaned back against the Soothscryer, and closed his eyes. The Soothscryer dropped into the floor, sending Jim sprawling back with a yelp.

“… Very funny.”

“Jim?” AAARRRGGHH entered the Forge. His steps were slow at first, and then Jim heard him hurrying across the bridge. “Jim okay?”

“Yeah, just, aggravated.” He knocked on his breastplate beside the Amulet. “Stricklander got Gunmar’s Eye for me, and Vendel taught me how to cleave it, but I – I can’t figure out what it does. I thought it would – would make me stronger, or tougher, or give me a new weapon, but – nothing! I’ve been training for hours and, and I haven’t been able to do anything I couldn’t before, and apparently the Ghost Council wants me to figure this out on my own, so they’re no help.”

“AAARRRGGHH help,” said the bigger troll decisively. He picked up the human-shaped Changeling and plopped him on his shoulders. “Jim tired. Sore. Anger-vated. Hard to think. Need rest.”

And he started carrying Jim out of the Forge.

“… Where are we going?”

“Library. Quiet there.”

AAARRRGGHH was tall, and his fur was thick. Jim was mostly hidden by it. He wasn’t sure anyone noticed him as AAARRRGGHH walked through Trollmarket.

Why was AAARRRGGHH carrying him? Jim had been sure AAARRRGGHH no longer trusted him that much, but here he was, giving Jim easy access to his scruff, his neck, all the vulnerable spots on his back …

Inside the library, AAARRRGGHH did not shrug Jim off. He simply settled into his usual corner – a space relatively clear of shelves, so AAARRRGGHH wouldn’t block access to anything important if he dozed off – and opened one of the larger, less delicate books to where it was bookmarked.

“Rest,” he said. “Talk when ready.”

It was always sort of comical to see AAARRRGGHH reading. Even the tallest and widest volumes, books that the humans had to leave on tables and turn pages of both-handed, looked small in his hands.

Jim climbed further up AAARRRGGHH’s back to read over his shoulder. AAARRRGGHH noticed, and repositioned the book so they could both see it better.

It was one that Blinky had written. Possibly one he’d written for AAARRRGGHH, considering the dimensions. It was about Blinky’s observations of human culture. The current chapter was about different gardens Blinky had seen around human homes, identifying some plants that were beneficial or harmful to trolls, and speculating on the purpose of the others.

They read in silence for a while.

“It’s just,” said Jim, when they reached the end of the chapter, “I can’t afford to mess this up.”

AAARRRGGHH moved the flattened strip of braided leather to its new place and closed the book.

“I can’t take Gunmar in a straight fight, which leaves assassination. So if there’s a specific weapon I need to kill him for real, and nothing else is gonna work, then I have to know how to use it. And I have to get it right the first time, because I probably won’t get a second shot.”

And because, if Jim failed and Gunmar realized a Changeling was behind the assassination attempt, then all the other Changelings still trapped in the Darklands were as good as dead.

“And … and if I can’t unlock the first Triumbric Stone, what does that say about my chances with the other two? And what if I messed up cleaving the Eye, so now I can’t unlock that stone, and Gunmar’s gonna live forever and it’s my fault?”

“He won’t,” said AAARRRGGHH. “Wizards live long, age slow, but can die.”

“… I don’t suppose you know any weaknesses of his?”

“Hm … Not good at trusting, so won’t have guards to sleep.”

“Huh. You know, I honestly never realized he slept? Like, logically he has to, but I’d never thought about it. I’ve only ever seen him on his throne or leading hunting parties. If the stones really do give me a new weapon, that would probably be my best shot at him.” Jim sighed and sagged. “If.”

“Maybe stones only work with all three,” AAARRRGGHH suggested.

“That could be it. I hope so.” Jim drummed his fingers against the Amulet. “I’m going to take the Eye out and train some more without it. Just in case it’s messing with my head. Would you hold onto it for me?”

“I help.” AAARRRGGHH shrugged. Jim nearly fell off his shoulder. “But Eye very small. Might leave with Blinky instead.”

“Where is Blinky, anyway?”

“Doing errands,” said AAARRRGGHH in trollish. “Haggling takes time.”

+=+

Tobias Domzalski, ‘Toby’, age 16, sophomore student at Arcadia Oaks Public High School. Orphaned age two, raised by paternal grandmother Nancy.

Closest friend, boy from across the street, Jim Lake; no close friends besides that, though occasional mentions of friendly acquaintanceship with classmate Eli Pepperjack.

Fond of geology, video games, stage magic. Natural predisposition to showmanship.

Family history of clinical depression. Personal history of emotional eating, being mocked by peers for braces and weight. Probable fear of rejection/abandonment.

Next appointment rescheduled to earlier date for unclarified reasons, severe enough for guardian to call in at 5:30 in the morning but not severe enough for guardian to feel immediate emergency response was needed.

“Good afternoon, Toby. Come on in.”

“Hi, Doctor A.”

He wandered over to the window first. There was a tree between the building and the parking lot. She wasn’t sure which, if either, he looked at.  He sat in the squashy armchair.

Dr Tiffany Archenn had three chairs in her office besides her desk chair, with various degrees of softness. There was a well-stuffed armchair that the sitter noticeably sank into, a stiffer but still upholstered one, and a sturdy wooden armchair that patients with joint problems invariably chose because it was the easiest to get up from.

“Anything in particular you’d like to start with today?” she asked, in her cultivated gentle tone.

“Well, I’ve made some new friends.” He smiled, showing a glint of metal. “Some girls from school decided to start hanging out with me and Jimbo. One of them, Claire, had a crush on him at first, but they kept having lunch with us after he turned her down. They’re a lot of fun.”

Tiffany nodded. After centuries of practice, writing notes was like knitting for her; she no longer needed to look at what she was doing, though sometimes she did anyway if a patient was bothered by prolonged eye contact.

“What sorts of things have you been doing together?”

“Well, lunch, like I said, and Darci and I have been playing Mobile Go-Go Sushi. Sometimes we all go out and explore – uh, the trails around town, or the museum, or, like, little stores we’ve never been in before. And we’ve been … LARPing. That’s ‘live-action role play’.”

She knew that already, but she just nodded.

“It’s a fantasy game. Jim’s the most into it. He was actually doing it solo for a while before we found out, but now we’re all involved.”

‘Before we found out’. Not ‘before he told us’ or ‘invited us’. Now that was interesting.

How was Toby handling his closest friend having done something alone instead of sharing it with him, until Toby and the new additions to their social circle became involved all at once? How was he handling suddenly having to share his friend?

“Are you enjoying this game?” she asked leadingly.

“… Mostly. It can get pretty intense sometimes.”

“How do you mean?”

Toby twisted his hands in his lap. There were some fidgets on the windowsill and the side of the desk her patients sat on, but he didn’t use them often anymore.

“A couple weeks ago, we had a school play,” he said. “Claire and Mary were in it. Claire’s character died. Seeing that was like – like the stakes of, of the game, just got real. I had a nightmare that she died for real. It shook me up a lot. That’s when Nana called you.”

“I can see why that would be distressing.”

Emotional conflation was different from delusion, so this was probably not a sign that Toby was beginning to struggle with telling fiction from reality. Fearing for a friend’s wellbeing in a play or game and having that spill over into genuine concern for that friend’s safety was more likely related to Toby’s fear of abandonment.

She was surprised the fear was centred around one of the new friends rather than around his friend of longest standing, but it sounded like the death scene in the play had been the tipping point.

“Has this changed how you’ve been acting in your game?” Dr Archenn asked. “Or how you’ve interacted with your friends in general?”

“I’ve been more careful. Taken my training more seriously. I switched weapons – picked one I could actually use now instead of just the one I thought was coolest.”

“Has that helped?”

“A little.”

“Would you prefer a different game?”

“I couldn’t!” He shook his head. “Jimbo’s gonna do this with or without us – I can’t just leave him.”

Okay, now Tiffany was wondering if ‘LARPing’ was really a cover for some illegal activity these kids had stumbled into. Stupid Walter, leaving town right before she needed intel on some of his students.

“You don’t feel able to change overall aspects of this … game, only how you play?”

“… Yeah, that pretty much sums it up.”

“And you’re confident that your friends wouldn’t” – or can’t – “drop it to play something else?”

“Jim’s committed.” Tobias’ eyes widened at his own words. “I mean, he’s like, really emotionally invested in this fantasy world, you know? He’d feel really bad about giving it up. I can’t ask him to do that.”

Okay, so clearly Tobias’ friend Jim was the key to all of this. Considering the boys had been each other’s only friend for ten years, it was unlikely Tobias would be easily convinced to let go to save himself. He’d said twice in five minutes that he could not abandon Jim to whatever they were really doing, nor extract Jim from it.

She might be reading too much into this, Tiffany reminded herself. Toby might be being entirely literal, especially since he’d already volunteered so much information with so little prompting.

“Tell me some more about this game you’ve been playing.”

“Uh … well … it kind of started as Jim trying to write a fantasy novel, I think. He’s, like, this destined hero, a magical knight chosen to defeat an evil troll king. The rest of us are, um, fellow questers who’ve joined up with him. He wants to protect us by fighting alone, but …” he trailed off.

But you don’t want to be left behind by being cut out of something your friend is investing time in? Tiffany did not suggest. It would distort the accuracy of her analysis if she put words in her patient’s mouth.

“But none of us want to give it up,” Toby settled on.

He didn’t say more. Maybe the tension between Jim and Toby was because Jim had wanted to write this story alone and resented his friends inserting themselves into the narrative? Tiffany set out another prompt.

“You mentioned you chose a new weapon recently. Do you all have weapons?”

“Yeah. I’ve got a warhammer. I had one to start with, I just, switched to a lighter one. Because, um, my character stats meant I couldn’t lift the first one yet. Jim and Mary both have swords, Claire’s got a spear, Darci has a crossbow.”

“No spellcasters in your party?”

Toby laughed nervously. “Sometimes there’s magic artifacts, but, no, no spellcasters.”

+=+

Claire got her bleach and developer out of the cupboard, adding them to the rest of her materials.

“Whatcha doin’?” Not Enrique asked her.

“Seriously? Do you have no concept of privacy? I’m in the bathroom right now!”

“You didn’t shut the door.” He tapped the join between the hardwood floor he was standing on and the bathroom tiles.

Okay, fair point, not that she’d being saying so to him.

“I’m touching up my roots.”

“I got no idea what that means.” He stood up on his back legs (or just ‘legs’? He went on all fours most of the time, like AAARRRGGHH, but most trolls Claire had seen were bipeds) and squinted past her. “You got a plant in there?”

“No, I mean my hair.” She crouched on the floor and tugged her blue streak. “It’s growing out, so I have to dye the parts that don’t have colour yet.”

Not Enrique just blinked at her. “You … kill your hair to change its colour? But, Ma and Pa take me with ’em to the hairdressers sometimes, and none of the stuff on the floor turns different colours.”

Claire grit her teeth at hearing him refer to her and Enrique’s parents like they were his too.

“It’s not that kind of dye. Dee-why-ee, not dee-eye-ee. It’s like a paint.” She sighed. “Look, I’ll show you.”

She pulled on her rubber gloves and separated her dyed streak from the rest of her hair with foil.

“I’m just bleaching it today. I have to do that a couple of days in a row, because it takes a while to get it light enough for the colour to show up.”

She mixed the bleach with the developer, which helped bleach to penetrate hair, and some red-gold corrector, which made it more effective on dark hair. Claire carefully painted the goop into her hair.

“In about half an hour, I’ll wash this off, and the hair it was in will be lighter brown instead of black.”

“Wild.”

“So, what, did you think some of my hair was just naturally blue?”

“Yeah? I’ve seen lots of humans around with more than one hair colour.”

“… Fair point,” she admitted. Between the people with hair streaks like her, and anyone starting to go grey, and people with fully-dyed hair whose roots were showing, not to mention how technicolour troll hair could be, he’d have no reason to suspect some human hair colours or patterns were unnatural.

Claire folded the foil around her hair and carefully clipped it so it wouldn’t slip off. She wiped out the bowl she’d mixed the bleach in using paper towels and wrapped them in a bag to throw in the trash, rather than dumping bleach down the drain. It wasn’t good for the local water table. Claire took off her gloves and tidied everything else away. She set her phone timer so she wouldn’t damage her hair by leaving the bleach in for too long.

“What was that you were saying earlier?” asked Not Enrique. “Bout the different kinds of die. Dee-why-dee-eye?”

“They’re spelled differently,” said Claire. “So if you see it written down, you can tell which kind somebody means. It’s called a homophone when a word’s like that,” she remembered from an elementary school grammar class on the different kinds of words.

Claire left the bathroom. “Come on.” She went to their – her – mother’s home office, and took a sheet of paper and a pen. She wrote ‘die’ and ‘dye’ on the paper and handed it to Not Enrique, who held the page upside down. “Other way up. See the difference?”

He flipped the page. “Which one’s for hair and which is for killing?”

“D-Y-E is for recolouring stuff. It’s not just hair, you can do with cloth too.”

He pointed at the correct word. “That one’s the Y? Like in the alphabet videos.”

“Yeah. You know what?” Claire decided. “I’m gonna teach you to read. I know, I know, you’re picking it up,” seeing his insulted look, “but you’ll learn faster with a teacher.”

“You just wanna use me to spell-check the trollish homework Blinkous gives you.”

“Like you’d be useful for that when I’m the one teaching you.”

+=+

Previous Chapter (Jim gets and cleaves the Eye of Gunmar)

Table of Contents

Next Chapter (Visiting the Quagawumps to ask for the Killstone)

I learned how to dye hair streaks for this chapter! I’ve been thinking about doing them in my hair for a long time but never bothered because my hair’s really dark brown and all the bleaching sounded like a nuisance. Now that I’ve looked into how it’s done, it still sounds like a nuisance, but I might try it.

Dr Archenn does not suspect Toby knows about real trolls yet, because ‘fighting an evil troll’ is pretty standard fantasy fodder. Even if he’d mentioned Jim being ‘the Trollhunter’, that sounds like a generic term, so she wouldn’t get truly suspicious without further evidence. If he’d mentioned Gunmar by name, on the other hand, that would have been enough for her to call in some favours and put this kid under surveillance.

So, how about Wizards, huh? Deya’s portrayal gave me a bunch of ideas for her portrayal in this fic! Since I am not going with the idea of her being the first Trollhunter, I’ve also developed a whole bunch of backstory that will be revealed later about the Trollhunter job’s origins in this timeline. I’ll be sticking with some plans I already had as to the timing and motives of Morgana inventing Changelings.

[loserholland]

𝐅𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐛𝐨𝐲 𝟏𝟎𝟏

𝟎𝟎𝟒 ➺ 𝐅𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐬

𝟎𝟎𝟏 ➺ 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐌𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠

𝟎𝟎𝟐 ➺ 𝐂𝐨𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐞

𝟎𝟎𝟑 ➺ 𝐋𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐧 𝐓𝐨𝐰𝐧

Pairing ➺ Fuckboy!Tom Holland x Reader

Warning ➺ kinda angsty, none really

Word Count ➺  3,591

Summary ➺  A bet that was too hard to refuse.

A/N ➺  Sorry I’ve been so MIA! I was studying to get my permit and had a bad writers block ): also I’ll be working on one sided love and little cupid tomorrow!

✿ 𝓟𝓮𝓻𝓶𝓪𝓷𝓮𝓷𝓽 𝓣𝓪𝓰𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽 ✿ - @loveyathreethousand @taronxfiction @killerqueen-gunpowdergelatine @spideyyypeter @lou-la-lou @babebenhardy @rivervixenbaby @acklesholland @zabdisamor @keepingupwiththehollands @sweet666pea @sspider-parker @jackiehollanderr  @caro0512 @thewinchesterchronicles @cporter003 @kisses-holland @spideysnugget @cryszus @sunflowerharrystyles @peterunderoos 

@iloveyou3000morgan  @random-things-i-love 

*The strike through your name just means I couldn’t tag you, please message me if anything*

→ 𝐅𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐛𝐨𝐲 𝟏𝟎𝟏 𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ←  @writingstoriesaboutcharacters​ @rockinmarcel @luvborhap @kisses-holland @jessybellsworld @v-valz-n @laprvphette 

☞  Masterlist  ☜

-

“My love for you, wasn’t real”

All Tom could think about was the pain in her eyes, the moment he had said it wasn’t real. Those beautiful (Y/E/C) eyes that was once filled with so much love was now filled with hate and sadness. It’s funny how someone can go from loving you to hating you.

"You’re a div, you know that?” Harrison commented moving around Tom’s room to open the curtain’s he drew shut. Tom pulled his comforter over his face to hide from the sun’s rays, Harrison rolled his eyes in annoyance pulling the soft material off of Tom.

“You broke it off? Why? All because you’re worried about your position as President? How shallow have you gotten Tom? Vivian is now questioning if our relationship is a bet. You really fucked up Tom.” 

Tom stared blankly at the ceiling, he knew he fucked up. Harry and Sam had been texting him all night, asking him why he did it without a second thought. Why he continued to go on with the bet when he knew he loved her, all because he wanted to be the one to run ZZB?

“Haz, leave please.” Tom mumbled weakly tugging the comforter over his head, he already knew how much he fucked up. He didn’t need to be reminded of it,

“Fine, but you really chose your pride and ego over a (Y/N). She really did love you div, and now you’ve lost it.”

“I fucking hate you and never wanna see you again!”

He didn’t need to be reminded. (Y/N) said it loud and clear.

Vivian had bought chocolates and ice cream, placing her laptop on (Y/N) bed so they could binge on sad rom-com’s. (Y/N) was gonna miss seeing Tom everday, usually Tom would wait outside her class then walk her to her next class. Or he’d bring her coffee in the morning, send her a good morning text and hope’s she has a wonderful day.

There was no more of that. 

No more coffee, no more morning text. No more Tom.

It makes you think, did he really truly love her? I mean, he’d get her coffee and wait and walk her to her classes. He’d also send cute morning and night text. There was a part of her that missed that, I mean that’s what you do when you’re going through a break up. 

Reminiscing all the memories.

“Do you think Harrison and I’s relationship is based of a bet?”

(Y/N) could hear the worry in her best friend’s voice. A few days after she had told Vivian her and Tom broke up because their relationship was just a bet, Vivian began to worry that Haz and her’s relationship was a bet as well.

Through (Y/N) eye’s, she could see how much Harrison loved and cared for her. He’s too sweet and kind to do bet’s, let alone try to break Vivian’s heart. If anything, it was more of Tom and Jake’s thing to do these stupid bets.

“Viv, god no. Honestly, Harrison loves you. He wouldn’t do that to you, I think he liked you too much to make you a bet. Also, he worked his ass off to get your attention, he wouldn’t hurt you like-”

Vivian placed her hand atop of (Y/N) giving it a small squeeze of reassurance, she didn’t need to say the name of the person who broke her heart. 

“Let’s forget about this conversation and continue watching 13 going on 30.”

She hated to see her best friend this way, crying over a stupid boy who broke her heart. Just wait till she gave him a piece of her mind.

“Hold on!”

Haz shouted descending down the staircase to open the door, whoever was standing out there had been banging on the door for the past three minutes and no one decided to answer it?

“Alright settle do-Vivian?”

Vivian brushed pass her boyfriend and headed up the stairs, “Hey babe, let’s go get lunch. Let me talk to your bff really quick.” Haz shut the door watching as his girlfriend turned the corner, his eyes widened realizing what she was about to do.

“Oh-Viv! Wait!”

Vivian swung Tom’s door open, everything was a mess. Beer bottles along with a variety of chips were spread out on the floor, the blinds were drawn shut and Tom was hiding beneath his comforter.

Haz stopped in Tom’s doorway, watching Tom sit upright against his headboard. His girlfriend stood beside his bed with her arms crossed across her chest, was it a bad time to admit she looked hot when she was anger? Yeah, bad timing very bad.

“Viv-lovely-”

She turned around pointing her index finger at her boyfriend of one year, “Harrison, go get ready. In the mean time leave Thomas and I alone, I just want to chat.” Tom waved off Harrison who slowly backed away from the door and heading towards his room.

“You’ve got some nerve Holland-”

Vivian started off, she felt absolutely livid. 

“-was there any part of you that actually loved (Y/N)? If you really did have any feelings for (Y/N) if you really did love her. You would have chosen her, even if that meant losing your position..”

Tom stared blankly at his lap, allowing what Vivian had to say to slowly sink in. 

“but that’s the thing with men, no boys like you. Boys like you don’t grow up, all they care about is themselves and how many girls they can get in bed with them. First you find your victim, second you give her this ‘reassurance’ that she’s the only one. And then, when she develops feelings and is in too deep, that’s when you take their hearts and crush it. That’s what’s wrong with boys like you, they only care for themselves. If you did love (Y/N), you would’ve stepped down from your position and choose her. You wouldn’t have continued the bet, because you knew what would’ve happened. From my guess, it’s everything you thought would happen.”

Vivian began to walk away when she caught a glimpse of Harrison from the corner of her eye.

“I hope you find it in yourself to change for the better Thomas. Grow up and out of this little act of your’s, it’s not good for you.”

(Y/N) was offered an amazing life time opportunity to spend a semester in Paris, she had a three weeks to decide if she wanted to go or not. The letter had came in before she had gone to London with Tom, and this week was the last week to summit an answer.

Her professeur had encouraged her to do it, she said “It’s a great once and a life-time opportunity, you’ll learn so much.” I mean, she wasn’t wrong. It’ll just be one semester and she’ll be back for the second half after winter break. 

So she took it, and now she was packed and ready to explore the beautiful city of Paris. Vivian had dropped her off and promised to visit during thanksgiving break. She had also requested to send lot’s of pictures and wished (Y/N) the best of luck to find a french guy.

That’s what best friends are for.

Something she wished happened was, Tom came running into the airport and confessed his love for her. But her life wasn’t a rom-com and that would totally not happen. It was good to wish though.

2 months later

School was back in session, now day’s Tom hung his head low trying not to draw any attention to himself. He would take the route to class where he’d usually pass (Y/N), he began to notice how she wasn’t walking the same route. Of course she walked a different route, she didn’t want to see him.

There were nights when he’d lay awake and wonder how (Y/N) was doing. Nights where he’d stare at his phone and ponder if he should text her or call her. Nights when he’d scroll through his camera-roll of pictures he and (Y/N) took, or picture’s he’d take when (Y/N) was studying. 

Tom knocked lightly on (Y/N) dorm, god she wouldn’t want to see him. If anything she’d slam the door on his face, the sound of the door creaking open caused Tom to quickly turn the other direction and walk away.

He missed her, more than words could explain. 

Vivian stuck her head out the hallway and noticed Tom walking away at a fast pace, “Holland! You don’t get to knock and dash!” he stood in his place cursing to himself for not being fast enough, turning on his heels he walked back over to the dorm.

“Hey Vivian, is um (Y/N) here?”

She rose her brows in confusion, “She hasn’t been here for the past two months.” did he not know? I mean she did tell Harrison and expected him to tell Tom because they’re best friends, why wouldn’t Harrison tell him?

“W-what do you mean?” Tom asked in confusion, did she go back home to take some time off? 

“Harrison didn’t tell you? Jesus, I want to slap him sometimes. (Y/N) is in Paris right now, she was offered to take a semester there.” 

Paris, France

That was one number one on her bucket list, visit the city of love. Not only did she visit the city of love, she’ll be there for a semester. There were nights when the two would just talk, and go on about places they’d love to visit. Paris was one of the places (Y/N) would go on and on about.

“It’s amazing, the architecture is beyond magnificent. Also their history, I could go on and on about that.” (Y/N) spoke her head resting against Tom’s chest as her fingers traced random shapes on his abdomen.

Times like this, he’d space out and watch her in awe as she spoke passionately he loved the way she scrunched her nose when she spoke ever now and then or the twinkle in her eyes and she dreamt of what she’d do. 

“She um, left this envelope with your name on it. I think she knew one day you’d come by.”

Dear Thomas, 

 I guess if you’re reading this, you came by my dorm. Maybe you were asking for me, or maybe you were asking for your hoodies back. If you’re here because of the second option, I folded all your hoodies neatly and placed them in a bag. You can ask Vivian for them. If you came here because of option one, well I’m in Paris. The city that I wished and hoped to visit, with you. Before I left, I decided to write this because no matter how much pain and sadness you’ve caused. I still love you. I hate that, I hate that I still love you even though your love for me wasn’t real. I’m a real idiot for that, I’m an idiot for even writing this letter. But they said if you write out of you feel, it’ll make you feel a lot better. God I hope that’s true. I just miss you Thomas, I miss walking to class with you, you bringing me coffee and helping me study. I miss laying next to you. I hope, that you’ll change and be the Thomas I saw everyday, the Thomas who loves and cares for his family, please don’t be the Thomas who put’s up this act to cause other’s to fear him. Please don’t be the Thomas who thought a bet wouldn’t hurt his relationship. You have so much potential, you know you can do much better that President of ZZB. We both know that. Thomas, I hope one day you’ll let yourself feel for once, to allow yourself to get hurt. To tear down that stupid wall that hides what I saw everyday. Maybe someone time in the future, I’ll be ready to talk to you. But for now, I just hope that, maybe if you do find someone else, love the person genuinely. 

(Y/N)

P.S, 

If you plan to come any time sooner, you’ll know where to find me.

(Y/N) sat there, looking over the letter. She had spent hours contemplating if she should just crumple it up and throw it into the trash or just place it in the envelope written with Tom’s name.

She had chosen option two, hoping and praying she made the right choice. She stared at the bag with Tom’s neatly folded hoodies, she wanted to keep one. To wear and have him close to her. So she did, she kept the hoodie he wore the first night they met.

The night that changed everything.

If she didn’t go to the party with Vivian, maybe she wouldn’t have met him.

If he didn’t take her out to coffee, maybe they wouldn’t have gotten closer to one another. 

 If he didn’t accept the bet, then maybe he would’ve lost his position 

If, if Tom came clean about the bet, way before it even ended. Maybe they’d still be together.

Maybe.

“You have so much potential, you know you can do much better that president of ZZB. We both know that.”

The words echoed in his head, maybe it was time. Time to step down from what he thought he enjoyed and loved, partying and being the king of NYU. He had spent the night thinking about if this was a good choice, the right choice. 

The right choice could’ve been done months ago, when he knew he actually loved her. Right then and there would’ve called off the bet and wouldn’t give two shit’s about being President. Instead of trying to fix the past, fix your present so it won’t repeat in the future.

-

"Bonjour, puis-je avoir du café glacé et un croissant s'il vous plaît?” (Y/N) closed the cafe menu handing it to the waiter who wrote down her order. Oh Paris, it was truly beautiful except for the smell of cigarettes that filled the air. She enjoyed going to different café’s everyday and spending most of her afternoon there.

It was already one o’clock in Paris and seven in the morning New York time. This was usually the time Vivian was waking up for her eight o’clock class, and the usual time they’d just talk about how their day was yesterday.

“Morning, what do you have planned for today?” (Y/N) questioned taking a sip of her ice coffee humming lightly at how sweet her drink was, she could hear Vivian rummaging around for something in the background.

“Class, then a date with Harrison later. Also Tom stepped down as president of ZZB.” 

(Y/N) felt her heart drop to the bottom of her stomach, “Why?” all she could think about is what she wrote in the letter, about how he can do much better than president. 

“I've been waiting to tell you, he came by last week. I guess, whatever was in the letter, helped him.” Vivian spoke as she searched her drawers.

"Did he come back? For his hoodies?” she fiddled with the small spoon she had placed in her coffee twirling it around watching as it created a little whirlpool.

Maybe he didn’t care for those hoodies.

“Uh no, the last I saw him was when I gave him the envelope. Harrison said, he needed to take some time off. I think he went to visit his family. But I’ll text you later, I’m gonna grab something to eat then head to class. Love you.”

“Love you too.”

(Y/N) ended the call sighing to herself as she stared at her home screen, she still hadn’t changed it nor did she really plan too. At least she didn’t plan to change it soon, it was a picture of Tom sleeping. The morning after celebrating their sixth month anniversary, his curls fell atop his forehead with his mouth slightly agape.

As much as she wanted to delete their pictures, she found herself canceling the photos she selected to delete.

There were nights where she’d lay in bed and stare at his contact, unsure if she should call him. Nights where she’d type out a message and her thumb would hover over the little arrow, only to delete the message. 

She gathered her belongs and left a some cash to cover her bill before off to start the rest of her day.

-

"She’s always at this cafe La Fontaine de Mars, oh forgive my french. No? No laugh? Anyways, I’m not too sure where her airbnb is, I just know it’s near the Cham-Cham-” Vivian began to snap her fingers trying to pronounce it as best as she could.

“Champ Elysees.”

Vivian glared at Harrison scoffing at how he just cut her off, “Do you want to explain it?” Harrison shook his head no pressing his lips into a thin line allowing his girlfriend to continue.

“Well, what Harrison said. So once we land, we’ll check into the hotel and then you’ll go look for (Y/N).”

At the time (Y/N) had called they were getting ready to go to the airport, their flight was at 9:15 and they’d land the next day at 9:30. Hence the reason why she was causing such a ruckus, she was looking for her passport.

“You guys didn’t have to come.” Tom mumbled handing the worker his ticket and passport as Vivian scoffed lightly behind him.

“Over my dead body Holland, just because I’m helping you doesn’t mean I forgive you.” 

Tom had originally planned to go by himself but, Vivian had forced herself and Harrison onto the trip saying she missed her best friend and the only way he’d go alone to Paris if pigs started flying.

“This is gonna be a long 18 hours.” Harrison mumbled following his best friend and girlfriend through the tunnel.

-

(Y/N) sat on the balcony to her airbnb it was eleven o’clock and she planned on heading to the café in two hours. The reason why she’s always at the café at one, is because her body and mind is still on New York time. Hence the reason why she always get’s iced coffee, not that it’s not normal to have coffee anytime of the day.

She was glad that she took this opportunity, being able to study abroad for a semester. A paid trip to study abroad, all expenses paid for and taken care of. Yet, she missed New York. Paris was always a dream city to visit but, she missed her friends. She missed Tom. 

The only reason why (Y/N) accepted to go was because she thought, she could move on from Tom and spending time away maybe that’ll change how she felt about him.

Yup, that’s not working.

She got up from her seat and headed back in to get ready for the rest of her day.

Little did she know, just about an hour ago her best friend had landed in Paris along with the person she couldn’t get off her mind.

-

“Here’s the game plan boys, the hotel is within walking distance of the café. While Harrison and I are out attempting to sight see, Tom will go and find (Y/N). Got it?” 

The boys looked between one another shrugging at whatever Vivian had said, “Got it.” Vivian nodded at the two before excusing herself to get changed out of her airport outfit suggesting the boys do the same, especially Tom if he wanted (Y/N) to talk to him.

He felt beyond nervous, he hadn’t seen or spoken to her in almost two months. Just because she said if you plan to come anytime sooner, you’ll know where to find me, doesn’t mean she’d want to talk. 

Before he knew it, Tom found himself walking to the café. 

(Y/N) sat at her usual table scrolling through her phone to call Vivian, she waited for her to answer listening to the line ring for a few seconds before going to voicemail.

“Odd, maybe she’s sleeping in.” (Y/N) thought as she ended the call opening messages to leave her a good morning text and asking her to call her later.

It was a beautiful sunny day in Paris, light chatter moved up and down the street along with cars and mopeds. Tom stood a few feet away from the cafe, he could seen the girl he flew 3,625 miles to see. She looked as beautiful as ever, even beautiful since the last time he had seen her.

“This is now or never, you can only fix the present. Not the past.” Tom thought as he began to walk closer to the café, (Y/N) attention was on her phone her head hanged low and she mindlessly scrolled through instagram.

She pressed on Vivian’s story to see she took a picture of her and Harrison standing in front of the eiffel tower in confusion, “Her photoshopping skills are getting better or she was actually here.” (Y/N) thought to herself noticing the photo was taken about ten minutes ago.

“Hi.” 

A voice said, an all to familiar voice. 

(Y/N) lifted her head to see Tom was standing in front of her, maybe this was a dream. A really vivid crazy dream, he couldn’t have been here, neither could Vivian and Harrison.

She pinched her exposed skin in hopes that she’d wake up, yet all she got was a little sharp pain to her wrist. This was real, he actually read the letter. Tom was in the flesh, standing right in front of her.

“Hi.” (Y/N) responded with a small smile.

Maybe, everything was meant to be this way.

[knivxsanddespair]

Helping a bro out on a date.

"Okay, you got this. This isn't so hard..just don't try to screw this up and everything is gonna be fine!" Wiping off the sweat on his head, Leon made sure everything is safe and perfect for this day. Between the fact that it took him a while to confess to Lilith and how she kind of knew it already, nothing else can go wrong.

DING DONG!

"Oh, that must be her!" Leon quickly fixed his suit and walked downstairs, opening the door. Before he knew it all he could do next is just stare at how beautiful she looked in a bright red dress. "H-hey there."

"Hey there yourself~" Lilith got close to him and fixed his tie. "Uniformed as usual I see, handsome~" She began to tease him. It was fun for her to see him red and gush, although he himself was not aware of that.

"I-I uhm. This is for you!" He carefully gave a bouquet of roses, hoping that would ease up on the awkwardness. Messing up today would be disastrous for him.

"A classic guy as well!" She gleefully puts one of the roses to her hair. "How do I look?"

"Are you trying to go for a Poison Ivy look?"

"You geek, I know I am way hotter! Now quit fooling around, we have a full day to do fun things together and I am not wasting this opportunity!" They could have started with that, until Lilith's stomach began to grumble.

"Looks like someone is hungry~" It was his turn to start the teasing.

"Sh-shut up!" To say she was flushed would be an understatement. "Here's the dimensional scissors, let's go eat somewhere already!"

Leon's lightbulb immediately flickered. He know just the guy, or brother to help him on this. "Alright, here we go!"

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

They set out to another dimension and saw the restaurant right in front of them. "Here we are! Interdimensional Nachos Stop!" As he opened the door, he hoped a certain blue haired boy was on his shift today, and by luck he was.

"Magandang Hapon!"

Kyo turned his head to see who had greeted him. He walked over with a smile, greeting him with a handshake. "Leon! Tagal na ah, my brother! What dreams are you having to be here anyways?" He took one look at Lilith at smiled at him. "Naiintindihan ko. Right this way."

Lilith looked at him in a curious manner. "I'm sorry, but who are you and how do you know Leon? Just asking."

"Well Miss, I'm just one of the many teens here like you and Leon. My name is Kyo Ordonia!"

"Kyo huh? My name is Lilith. How can you even see with all that hair?"

Oh no. Leon already knows how as patient as Kyo is, he has a tendency to give out funny or witty remarks whenever he feels like it.

"I have been trained by the way of ninjas so my eyesight is heightened by two hundred percent." Kyo was trying his best on holding on to his laughter.

"Oh ha ha, very cheeky mr waiter. Can you tell me who runs this place?"

"It was built by Aunt Meteora herself, and managing it would be Aunt Mariposa. Both had the idea of talking to kids and teens from different dimensions amd hearing their stories, so this place was built for that sole purpose!"

"Huh, Interesting."

"Anyways, Mama hasn't heard heard from you for a while Leon, she gives her regards."

"Thank her for me." Leon nodded. "And tell her I'm doing just fine, thank you."

"Understood." He went over to him and whispered. "She's a keeper!"

"Shush."

"Anyways, I'm not gonna make you all wait any longer." Kyo went and passed the menu to the both of them as they looked on.

"Mt Spice and Nacho chips, hmm..I'll have one and a tall glass of root beer float!" Lilith gave the menu back.

"I'll just have the regular nachos and a root beer float." Leon smiled.

"Coming right up." Kyo went back to the kitchen with the orders to the chef.

After that was done, Lilith turned her head and attention to her boyfriend. "So, I didn't know you met with a dimensional sibling!"

"We actually met by chance, while he was out dimensional hopping. He's the sweetest guy you'll ever have the pleasure of meeting."

"Hmm, we'll have to hang out with him someday."

In a matter minutes, the food arrived. "Here you go, folks. And Lilith, Leon ordered this miniature crane shaped chocolate just for you!"

Leon was going to mutter something, until it dawned on him that he was trying to help him. "Y-Yeah, I was afraid that set was going to be too spicy for you." While she looked at the chocolate, he quietly thanked Kyo for it.

"You're just too sweet Leon, but you should know I am the spicyness itself! No hot chip is gonna burn m-" As the first chip entered to her mouth, she lets out an unholy screech. "AAAAAAAAA!!! WATER, GIMME WATER!"

While Leon was running after her with her root beer and asking her to calm down, Kyo saw Mariposa looking at them with a small smirk.

"Mt Spice had another victim, as usual. You really need to tone it down, Aunt Mari."

"And miss out on all of this? I think not."

Eventually she had calmed down and ordered a regular, just like Leon. She thanked him for buying her the chocolate, as it really came in handy.

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

After the meal, Kyo listed some places for them to go to have fun. "Would you excuse us for a second, Lilith? I just wanna talk to Leon for a while."

"Oh? No problem! I'll just wait outside, but don't take too long though!"

"We won't!" As soon as she was out, Kyo just chuckled and patted his back. "You really love her, don't you?"

"Y-Yeah I do." He couldn't hide it, at the very least not from Kyo.

"Alright, hold on for a minute." Kyo reached for his wallet and passed on a stack of hundreds to him. "Whatever she wants, its on me. Just tell her you'll pay for it though. And don't say it's from me."

"K-Kyo, this is..I can't take this from you!"

Kyo just simply shook his head and gripped his hands. "Leon. Listen to me. We both know what it's like to not lose people in our lives. It was only luck that Janna wants to adopt me and I am forever grateful for that. And I don't want you to be alone this world and feel the things and have the suffering that I do. Now you have me, and you have her. If she's the one who you would want to spend time with for the rest of your life, you have your brother's support and blessing."

Leon couldn't help but shed a tear at his other brother's words. "Now now.." Kyo wiped it off his face. "You still have a date. Go on and have fun."

"Y-yeah. Thanks for everything, bro."

"No problem, now go."

The date went on as normal, with them wreaking havoc and dancing in the reopened Bounce Lounge, buying some matching t-shirts and baseball bats, taking a ride on a roller coaster, and then end it off with a horror movie.

As Leon went back to his home, Lilith went on and jumped at his face, giving him a kiss for the fun time she had with him before quickly cutting a portal back home.

Maybe this isn't as disastrous as he thought it would be.

(I'm seemingly on a roll with writing today! Two fics in two days at 3 in the morning! Again guys, I'm sorry if I made the characters out of character somehow or if I'm boring you @makanshoku @demon-draws

Leon Diaz belongs to @demon-draws

Lilith Buterfly Lucitor belongs to @makanshoku

And of course, Kyo Ordonia belongs to me! )

[veroticker]

Instacrush - Kate Meader

Summary (from Kate Meader’s website)

Theo Kershaw is the luckiest guy alive.

Roaring back from a life-threatening injury, he has the world at his skates as defenseman for his new team, the Chicago Rebels. Everyone adores his big personality, his on-ice talent, and his killer smile. Everyone but his prickly neighbor—or so he thinks. One chilly Christmas Eve, Theo will learn that maybe the girl next door isn’t such a hater after all . . .

Elle Butler is the most embarrassing person on the planet.

How else can the ex-military-now-bartender explain her crush on the hot jock who lives across the hall? True, he has gorgeous green eyes and perfect cheekbones, but the filter between his brain and too-sexy mouth is permanently malfunctioning. Yet she can’t stop checking out his Instagram antics or sneaking looks at him when he’s in her bar. So. Mortifying. Running from a past filled with damning secrets, Elle’s determined that this guilty pleasure remains buried in her deepest fantasies.

Because she couldn’t possibly indulge with the Theo Kershaw. Or make a mistake that draws attention to her under-the-radar life. And she especially couldn’t be a mom to a pro-athlete’s baby . . . could she?

Blurb

““Morning, hockey fans! It’s another fabulous day in Chicagoland!”

Grrr. He was already irritating her. Why must everything out of his mouth be punctuated with exclamation points? The guy was so extra which was probably why people adored him. As for Elle? She was here for the pretty.

Black, wavy hair that had clearly undergone some sort of finger-rake attack topped his ridiculously handsome head. His full, sensual lips were perfect for mouthing ludicrous opinions that had invariably bypassed his brain filter. Those cheekbones must have been carved by malevolent angels determined to make every man suffer by comparison, then stumble through the rest of their miserable lives when they realize perfection is unattainable.

But the kicker was the eyes. She’d read somewhere that less than 2% of the world’s population had green eyes. Theo’s were emerald chips raised to unstinting magnetism by flecks of gold, which was probably even more rare. (Because, Theo.)

Barely ten seconds into the video, and Theo seemed to realize that, as awesome as his cheekbones and hair and eyes were, the effect was magnified tenfold when he repositioned the camera to take in his broad shoulders and defined pecs. A flurry of emojis flooded the screen. He laughed, knowing exactly how that maneuver would be received.

Elle wasn’t laughing. Her mouth had turned as dry as butterless toast. To think she’d met him in person, had served him drinks in her bar, was less than thirty feet away from him right now—and she didn’t mean the metaphorical distance between his on-screen presence and her hormonal one.

Because Theo Kershaw, defenseman for the Chicago Rebels, teammate to her roommate, known as Superglutes because of his most excellent posterior, was also her neighbor. As in across-the-hall-hey-how-are-ya neighbor.

He was over there now, making this damn video and she was watching the show like a creeper.

Clearly satisfied with the effect his muscles had on his fan base, he brought his camera back in close. “So, we’re two days out to Christmas, friends, and I don’t have a game until two days after which means I have time to … wrap presents!” He flipped the lens to take in his living room, cluttered with wrapping paper, scotch tape, and assorted boxes. Something twanged in Elle’s chest. There would be no presents under her tree this year. Estrangement from one’s family tended to put a damper on the gift exchanges. But she’d made her decision, choosing her conscience over her blood. Now wasn’t the time for regrets.

Back facing the camera, Theo smiled. Elle swore she heard the thud of thousands of dropped phones the world over. “Anyone want to guess what I’m buying for my gran?”

The predictions came in hard and fast, ranging from a cashmere sweater to scented lotions to inappropriate items that no guy should be buying for an elderly female relative.

Theo’s dark eyebrows (probably professionally shaped) lowered as he read some of the messages, then raised as he likely came across the more risqué ones.

“Hold up there, I don’t know what kind of relationship you have with your grandmother, but we’re not that kind of family!” He chuckled, the sound deep and going straight to her core. She had to give it to him: he knew exactly how to connect with a million plus people and their genitals.”

(review under the cut)

Review

I have read a couple of Kate Meader’s books after I fell in love with Luke Almeida (Flirting with fire), but no male protagonist could compete. Until Theo Kershaw. Theo is a puppy. A sexy puppy, mind me. He’s pretty, he’s hot, he’s funny, he’s loveable, he’s nice, he’s generous... and he’s a killer on ice. Perfection!

I really enjoyed the story of Superglutes--his nickname, due to a fabulous butt--that we discovered in Good guy. His relationship with Elle--Levi’s friend--was adorable, with the added bonus of a surprise pregnancy. It was my first introduction to the trope, and it couldn’t have been better: here we have a young guy who’s ready to do anything for a blob of cells conceived because of a failed condom.

Following the very strong feminist message in Good guy, Kate Meader kind of focus on the allies this time. Theo is adamant that Elle’s agency must be protected. Her body, her choice. And he’ll support her in any decision she’ll make. Good role model on top of everything :)

All the relationships (between friends, between boss and employees, between parents and children) were fascinating, with very compelling characters. And, of course, we still get the witty dialogues that are a Kate Meader trademark.

Also, as a hockey fan, I greatly enjoyed the depiction of various games. You can almost see the Rebels on the ice!

I highly recommend this one! You’ll have to wait though, as it won’t be released until December 10th. I had the privilege of winning an advance copy.

Quickie

Series: Rookie Rebels #2

Hashtags: #hockey romance #surprise pregnancy #con artists #family sucks

Main couple: Eloise Butler & Theo Kershaw

Hotness: 5/5

Romance: 5/5

+ Theo Kershaw (nuff said)

- Elle’s family was a bit ‘cardboard’ for me

Stalker mode

You can suscribe to Kate Meader’s newsletter on her website.

You can also follow her on Facebook.

[feixing02]

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((……so I was gonna do 250 of em because that’s how many emojis there are but I realized when i transfer from docs it doesn’t number everything. Also I’m tired of this sitting here. Soooo have like 175 lol

She’s got a handful of human teeth she kept that were gifts from crows.

Falls asleep on the RED base couch sometimes b/c she just wants to rest her eyes.

Never sleeps on the BLU base couch. Wilhelm is in the building.

Keeps a jar of sourdough starter.

The starter has been named Charles.

If all the flour gets used and she can’t feed it she will get antsy.

Doesn’t understand why people love their parents when the parents are shitty to them.

Says she doesn’t like coffee.

Doesn’t like coffee unless it’s mostly milk and sugar.

Secretly admires the Spies knife flippy skills.

Will do the ‘definitely not watching’ side eye if knives are being flippied in the vicinity.

Makes up hoverboard tricks on her spare time occasionally.

Does it in a closed room so her board doesn’t go flying away.

Makes lots of banging sounds against the wall as it slips from her feet.

Very good at peeling potatoes, cutting fruit, chopping veggies…

Was never taught to cook anything complicated.

Well versed in cooking basics, through.

Can draw faces pretty well.

Wants to take life drawing lessons.

Wants to see a musical on Broadway.

Is constantly uncomfortable if her hands feel dirty.

Keeps a lighter and cigarettes in her pockets.

Doesn’t smoke.

They’re for a certain disembodied head.

Or on the off chance someone asks for one.

Not very familiar with types of alcohol.

Doesn’t have much alcohol because she doesn’t like the sting.

Favourite fruit is apples, though she’s picky with them.

Red delicious is the favourite type of apple.

Do not give her a granny smith she will not eat it.

Really likes marbles as an aesthetic.

Owns a denim dress that goes down to her calves.

The dress is shaped kinda like a bag.

Fashionistas everywhere are horrified.

Really likes saltwater taffy.

Dislikes getting stuff stuck in her teeth.

Just suck on the taffy instead of biting it.

Bite ice cream and popsicles instead.

Has made kick the can ice cream on base.

If she gets a nosebleed while they’re not working she’ll just let it drip into a garbage can/sink until it stops.

Dislikes licorice.

Writes letters to James still when something troubles her.

Doesn’t send them.

Used to gross smoke smell.

Thinks glasses are cute.

Gives herself pretty janky haircuts.

Sometimes will remember stuff that makes her happy and just start giggling.

Doesn’t do it when around people much, since it looks a little crazy if you can’t see her thoughts.

Still gets uncomfortable watching people kiss in movies.

Or in real life, tbh.

Pain tolerance is pretty crap compared to the mercenaries.

Gets better as she spends more time in the gravel war.

Likes small spaces.

There’s a cupboard on BLU’s side that’s just big enough not to be uncomfortable she hangs out in.

It’s secret.

Will go there when she doesn’t want to be approached by anyone.

Mostly aimed at Wilhelm tbh.

The kind of person to take napkins from restaurants.

Lives in the middle of nowhere after the war.

Close enough to get groceries in a tiny town but no one knows her.

Continues to write letters to people on the teams.

Actually sends most of them now.

Lives with two cats.

Never finds out what happened to James.

((James dies from lung cancer and is in a p awful state because of his OCD.

Showers really late at night on base.

Takes her paintball gun and a towel to partially cover up.

Anybody try to sneak in and she will scream.

Tries to get Jean to stop chain smoking by offering candy.

Gets briefly addicted to the candy.

Goes traveling for a while after gravel war ends.

Knows a bit of Mandarin.

Doesn’t eat apples by just chomping down on one.

Will always chop them into slices first.

Dislikes oranges.

Makes loaves of bread to add to their supplies sometimes.

Makes cookies and different pastries often once she realizes she has tons of people to eat them now.

Don’t have to worry about making too much.

Likes the routine of baking.

Terrible at lying.

Bad about making breakfast.

Is too lazy to do much in the morning.

Would rather spend the energy on work.

Dislikes tea.

Unless it’s mostly sugar.

Wears a scarf and beanie when it’s cold.

Likes the comfort of really heavy blankets.

Will be really uncomfortable if blankets are too light as she’s trying to sleep.

Drinks a full glass of water as part of her morning routine.

Doesn’t know how to shuffle cards.

Doesn’t know how to play poker.

Developed a habit of keeping her back to the wall.

It’s pretty unconsciously enforced at this point.

Good at folding clothes.

Good at cleaning in general.

Dislikes cleaning in general.

Bad at improvising.

Gets anxious when forced to improvise.

Doesn’t know how to drive a car.

Wouldn’t be a good driver if she ever learned.

Didn’t see the stars until she was out in New Mexico.

Too much light pollution in the cities.

Spiders look cool to her but she’s still got some level of arachnophobia.

Likes how suits look on guys.

Has a habit of ordering lots of food and just slowly chipping away at it.

Would probably not eat enough if she weren’t doing exhausting work every day.

Likes honey on toast.

Cautious of all animals.

Loud chewing is especially gross to her.

If you stick gum anywhere other than the garbage she will silently judge you.

She’s had to clean too much of that for it not to give her flashbacks.

Shortest among the teams.

Reads those really cheap romance novels.

Prefers crunchy to soft food.

NO MAYONNAISE.

Favourite books are “Daddy Long-Legs” by Jean Webster and “The Adventures of Perrine (En Famille)” by Hector Malot Adapted by Edith Heal.

Goes out flying at night sometimes so that she can do it without the risk of being shot.

Keeps cassette tapes.

Knows how to make lao puo bing (sweetheart cake).

Has issues writing things that are interesting to read.

She can do formal and functional but expressing feelings is hard.

Rarely wears dresses, likes them but they’re not as convenient.

Thinks marriage could be nice but isn’t super hung up about it.

Makes lists to organize things she has to do.

Forgets stuff easily if they don’t have to do with other people.

Sings in the shower.

Is a bit of a crybaby but mostly in private.

She makes a point to run the fuck away or suppress that shit in front of peeps.

Modern AU (kid version)

Loves Hamilton.

Probably said to Dr. Humboldt at one point, “I have the honour to be your obedient servant.”

Likes her job as a receptionist.

Continues to take transit for like over an hour to work there even as her residence changes.

Her penny board is red with white trucks and blue wheels.

Pretty into battle tetris.

Isn’t great at it but plays a lot on the school computers when she can.

Favourite candy is Hi-Chew.

Never been to a sleepover.

Hasn’t ridden a bike.

But could probably figure it out in like ten minutes.

Buy her a frappuccino it’s her favourite.

Will sit outside clothing shops and sketch what’s in the display.

Knows how to make paper stars.

Wants to learn piano.

Has a lot of celebrity crushes on comedians.

Pretty clueless about current events.

Knows the public transit system super well.

Deity AU

Likes splashing around in water.

Especially with her wings out.

Will take opportunities to land on Diva’s head in pigeon form.

Sitting on people’s head as a birb is funny to her.

Mortals don’t understand what her birbs are saying unless she wants them to.

It just sounds like normal bird sounds.

Cue pigeon following her friends around and reciting the Bee movie.

Has a hoard of pretty marbles.

Shapes them when she’s bored.

Gives marbles as gifts sometimes, just as like a pretty thing.

Writes things and pins them up in her trees.

Sometimes poems she’s seen and likes.

Steals glass bits from mortals to hang up in her tree.

There’s some wind chimes up there too over the years.

She likes the sound.

Will sometimes talk to stray cats about her troubles that she’s too nervous to talk to Diva about.

Tells him about James this way.

Sometimes checks in on Ludwig secretly through gift eyes when she misses him but doesn’t want to approach for whatever reason.

Feels bad about it because it feels like spying.

Has a pile of gifts she made but hasn’t given yet.

Actually is pretty rich off of her job.

Even if she’s not paid much, Penna barely ever spends the drachmas on anything.

Wears backless sweaters in the modern age.

Gets a bit of a ‘hoard shiny things’ compulsion as time goes on.

Sometimes pretends to be an injured bird so humans will pick her up.

Meets James in 1840s.

Doesn’t tell him she’s a god.

Eventually kills him with Diva.

Touches her torc as a nervous reaction to be reassured that Divitiae was there for her.

[twasallyellow]

Spice and Inspiration

Prompt: Write a piece about someone who can’t handle spicy food (from @dropkickwritersblock )

Author’s Note: I’ve decided that along with my sucky poetry I’m going to try to get stated on some short stories and try to wake up my love for writing again

I never thought I was the type of person to wear a silk red dress to a first date, but then again I never thought I was the type of person to go on a blind date set up by a close friend so I guess tonight is full of lots of surprises. And as they say, fortune favors the bold. 

Cautiously sliding into the backseat of an Uber, I give the driver an address my friend, Audrey, texted me and try to calm my nerves as the car started along the crowded streets of San Fransisco at night. 

Leg bouncing restlessly the entire ride, I franticly text Audrey about my date.

Me: Are you sure this is a good idea? What if he’s crazy? Or a serial killer or something?

Audrey: Relax, Viv, this date will be good for you. Sure, he’s pretty much the exact opposite of the guys you usually go for, but I think it’s time for a little change, don't you think?

I sigh, knowing she’s right. These past couple months have been nothing but immense boredom after I moved into my new apartment. I have my degree as an artist that I’m not using because my motivation and inspiration had plummeted after graduation. Now, working as a children's book illustrator, I can’t bring myself to sketch anything outside of a silly elephant or anything only a 6 year old would appreciate. 

Hopefully, this date will bring back some of that inspiration. As I noticed through my rollercoaster life, my best inspiration for art comes when I’m around love, whether that’s at Audrey’s wedding or on a date. So maybe, meeting this guy who Audrey says is different than my usual type with strike up that urge to paint and draw and sketch that I’ve been missing lately.

All of these hopeful thoughts disappear as soon as the Uber pulls up to the mystery restaurant that I’m meeting my date at.

“What a bitch,” I mutter under my breath, seeing that the restaurant is a popular Mexican place that is known for having the spiciest menu in all of San Fransico. Audrey knows I can’t handle spicy foods at all, so this must have been some kind of gag joke to her.

The Uber driver gives me a funny look, “Well it was nice driving you, Miss. I wish your date the best of luck.” 

I pay the Uber, hop out, and walk into the restaurant hoping I have time to let my nerves settle. Not really knowing where I was going, I wandered into the restaurant, looking around for a guy around my age sitting alone.

“Vivian?” I hear a voice call from behind me. I turn quickly to see a tall red haired boy with dozens of freckles giving me the biggest and goofiest smile I’ve ever seen. 

“Hi,” I say, a little shocked. Usually I only date the mysterious brooding type, which has led me to lots of heartbreak in the past, so seeing this smiley goofy boy in front of me is a bit of a surprise. 

Confidently, my date takes my hand in his and leads me to a secluded booth in the back of the room. This bold action was also different, he was the first guy I’ve ever met to break the awkward touch barrier within the first 5 seconds of meeting someone. 

He took a seat across from me as I squeezed into the booth across from him, extremely aware of how little space was between our legs which were already touching underneath the small booth.

I pick up the menu, already nervous about what I should order and hoping it won’t set my mouth on fire.

“Do you know if anything here isn’t spicy? I’m really bad with spicy food,” I confess quickly, nerves getting the best of me.

I don’t see my date behind my open menu, but I can hear the sound of a smirk in his voice.

“Yeah, I know the perfect thing, I’ll order for you,” he says.

We carried on small talk until the waiter arrived with chips and salsa and took our orders. When he left, the red head across from me dunked a chip into the salsa, pilling loads of it onto his chip, and popped it in his mouth. His cheeks turned the same color as his hair, and he took a huge gulp of water. I have to admit, seeing his cheeks flush like that made my stomach fill with butterflies. Even though he’s not my usual type, he sure is cute. Thank you, Audrey.

“Damn, that’s hot,” he laughs after draining half his water glass. 

I nodded, “I hate spicy food too. It freaks me out because sometimes you can never tell what has a hint of spice in it. All those surprises of not knowing what level of spiciness is going to hit you stresses me out.”

He smiles and replies, “Surprises can be good sometimes.”

Right then the waiter arrives with our food, setting the plates in front of us. My food looked delicious, some kind of burrito with lettuce and cheese that smelled so good I was afraid the boy across from me could hear my stomach growl. I took a bite of the food, and immediately my tongue felt like fire.

My face burns as I tried to spit my food in my napkin as politely as possible, grabbing for my water to fight the spicy taste in my mouth.

“What the hell,” I say angrily after recovering from the spice. My date is sitting across from me almost falling over with laughter after seeing my freak out.

“You told me that wasn’t spicy!” I exclaimed, throwing a chip at him across the table. All he did was continue to laugh, burying his head in his hands to muffle his giggles. Although I was pretty pissed at him, that giggle sent another butterfly loose in my stomach.

“Some date you are,” I say sarcastically, but giving in to a little laugh anyways.

He lifts his head, side smile still etched into his face and raises an eyebrow. “Oh I’m the bad date here?” He asks, eyes a little watery from laughing so hard.

I nod, taking another sip of water, still with red cheeks.

“Ok,” he says, losing the grin and scooting his face closer to me. Naturally, I draw in towards him. How could I not, with those freckles and red curls of his?

“What’s my name?” He asks, face inches away from mine.

I feel my face get hotter than it did when I ate my spicy burrito.

“Oh my god,” I say, utter embarrassment overcoming me, causing me to hide my head in my hands. I had been so nervous about the date and the food that I completely forgot to ask his name. 

This exchange set him off on another fit of laughter, this time drawing attention from other people in the restaurant to give us funny looks.

“I am so sorry, I was just so nervous I forgot to ask,” I say, trying to redeem myself. He continues laughing, but once he calms down he wipes his eyes again and leans closer to me again.

“It’s Daniel, thank you for asking” he says. At this moment, he notices I haven’t touched my food after the spice incident.

“Here,” he says, reaching across the table and switching our plates, “I actually did order something you would like, I just gave you the spicy one after you never asked my name.” 

I laugh, and the rest of our meal goes smoothly as we talk casually for the next hour. For the first time in a long while, Daniel’s stories he tells actually make me laugh and the butterflies in my stomach never settle down. I find out that he’s a high school english teacher, which at first takes me by surprise but now makes sense as I picture him in a white button up and tie teaching about the works of Shakespeare and I can’t help but think how lucky some of those high school girls are to stare at him for a whole hour long class. 

“So, I hear you're an artist. Are you any good?” He asks after we finish eating.

“Sometimes I am, sometimes I’m not,” I confess.

“What are you right now?” He asks, seeming genuinely interested in the conversation.

I consider his question before responding honestly, “Before this date, I wasn’t any good. But now? I’m a good artist.”

“What makes you better?” He asks.

I shrug, “I draw inspiration from interesting people. And you’re one of the oddest people I’ve ever met. So right now I have tons of odd ideas bobbling around in my head, thanks to you.”

He grins, hops out of his seat, and slides into my booth until he’s sitting right next to me, arm touching my arm, leg touching my leg. “Draw me,” he says, giddy with a childlike tone to his voice.

I smile, grabbing a napkin and pulling a red pen out of my purse, and I begin sketching the shape of his face on the napkin. He remains motionless as I sketch, and the pen flows under my hand like magic, that wonderful feeling of happiness I get while creating art making me feel giddy.

“I really like your dress,” he says after a couple minutes of me sketching silently. I’m starting to learn that this guy is a natural talker and never silent, but for some reason that seems very charming to me.

“Thanks,” I respond.

“Is red your favorite color?” He asks, motioning towards the red pen in my hand  and brushing a freckled hand over the side of my dress, which causes my breath to catch in my throat.

“It is now,” I say, looking at his red curls, giving him a flirty smile. I’m usually never that forward but something about this guy pulls the confidence and inspiration right out of me. 

He grins, his smile getting even larger than before.

I finish my drawing, scooting it over towards him to see, even though we are sitting so close he’s already got a pretty good view of it. He looks over the thin lines of red ink, shaping into unruly red curls and little red dots to reflect his freckles that cover his entire face.

“Damn, this is really good,” he says, seemingly genuinely awe struck by my work. I smile, feeling a warm feeling build in my chest.

“Keep it,” I tell him.

He shakes his head, passing it back to me. “You keep it, as a way to remember me.”

I laugh, “Trust me Daniel, this is a date I will never forget.”

Daniel grins again as I scrawl my phone number on the back of his picture and hand it back to him.

“Well now I have to keep it,” he confesses, “How else will I get to keep the phone number of a beautiful girl?”

A blush spreads across my cheeks and I don’t have any time to think before he is leaning in and giving me a kiss on the lips. It starts of nice, but then I recoil from him, tasting the spice on his lips from his food.

I grab my water, and he laughs once again.

“Sorry,” he says, a little embarrassed. “I promise the next kiss will be a thousand times better, and I won’t have spice on my breath.”

“The next kiss? Aren’t you getting a little ahead of yourself?” I ask playfully, already excited for our next kiss.

“Vivian, after forgetting to ask my name for almost all of dinner, you at least owe me a second date,” he responds.

I roll my eyes jokingly, “Fine.” I respond, already excited for my next date with the odd boy that is Daniel, ready for my next dose of spice and inspiration. 

[arcadefloorvibes]

Dear tumblr

For some of you (I hope not) this a dream come true, because this is the last ever leadership camp post about camp

For some of you this is a living nightmare

Because it's the last post about being on a leadership camp for three days with my crush

That's right

Leadership camp day 3 (End)

This story does have a happy ending, I swear!

@cubedtriangle I hope you enjoy the final massive detailed text post about my three day camp, skipping the survey filling out though because that was boring

Okay, here we go

Wake up early because I didn't sleep well due to shock that we had decided to exchange details, begin packing my sleeping bag that never wants to get packed up, give up after fifteen minutes and meet Laurie in the hall

Walk to dining area and look at the chess set

"The second we have a moment, we should try to play again." I say

"Absolutely."

Also to everyone out there

This is where I can't tell if we're being playfully friendly or flirty

Serious I can't tell

Breakfast. Literally just toast because I'm not fond of cereal (don't judge me)

Tai chi leadership camp style

"Before we begin," The leader with the massive spiderman onesie said "for some of you this is the best day ever, because it's the last Tai chi leadership camp style ever, for some of you this is your worst nightmare, because this is the last Tai chi leadership camp style ever."

It finally sunk in that I would never spend so much time with anyone in this group like this ever again

No more Tai chi leadership camp style

No more noisy dinners

No more sitting in a football match with Laurence drawing imposdible shapes and reading Illuminae

I yelled everything loud enough to make me feel good but not so loud I drown out everyone else

Also we lost Hour of Power Embarrassing Yourself To Earn Points For The Glory Of Being The Best Team

We scored 1460 points

The winner scored 5380 points

No, I don't know how

Break time to pack but we already finished packing so chill time

Fucking sleeping bag took forever though

Graduation planning

I don't have to do a speech but I'm in charge of slideshows

*grumbling* which would be done really soon if people actually gave me the fucking photos and legit song suggestions

To anyone out there, there was a song recommendation that I am suspicious about because of both the person and the text itself

The text is exactly "Deffo famous by mason Ramsey 🤣"

One this person is a massive joker and two I've listened to the song and I don't find it funny so why is there the emoji on the end

Please someone explain I'm confused

Most song recommendations have come from Laurie and I trust his song choices

Livin' on a Prayer (song that was playing on the bus)

Viva la vida (which I originally thought was a Ricky Martin song but I messed up the name and it's not it's Livin la vida loca for the Ricky Martin

And of course

Some

BODY ONCE TOLD ME

It would be Laurie if that didn't come up at some point

That was the first song he ever sang comfortably in front of me even though he hates singing in pub---

HOLD THE FUCK UP

But the important part of the day which you should remember for later

Compliment cards

They are exactly what they sound like except that person has to have one or more of these four traits(?)

Spirit

Courage

Unity

Commitment to Learning

I gave one girl a commitment to learning because she wasn't on the first camp and has had to work hard to keep up with us

And I wrote on for Laurence

I wrote him a Spirit because he does bring a lot of energy into everything he does and makes me and everyone else smile without being one of the noisy ones and I also wanted to give him one I had been planning this since the last camp

He wrote two one which he gave to another girl and ran out of time before he could finish the other

First things first, is the chess board free?

"YO GUYS THERE'S MUFFINS!"

Fuck the chess board then

We walk over to the dining halk and I am no longer hungry when I see the huge crowd of people

I don't like having to push past people or go into huge rooms of people for food

This is bad because I will actually sacrifice food instead of going through a huge crowd

Laurie clearly does not care though

Coming out a few minutes later triumphantly carrying his muffin, he hands me a muffin

Choc chip by the way, which I did mention to him is my favourite

"Here, I got you one." "Thank you!"

A million things are going through my head

"Did he get this specific muffin for me because he knows I like it? Or was it a coincidence? Is this a friendly thing or does he like me back AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA"

This does solidify my idea to lend him Illuminae book one

Now to any bookworm out there and to anyone who has a bookworm friend, hardcovers are the freaking greatest

My mom and I have been trying to make the village library from "beauty and the beast" moving ladders and all with hardcovers for years so I am very protective over them

I have Illuminae which is equal favourite to Maze Runner in HARDCOVER

I dont give those to just anyone

We sit down with our muffins and watch the chess game

That's right

There were two other people who actually play chess on camp!

YAY

There were also the two girls who didn't know and referred to pawns as "prawns"

I get it, you've never played buT WHEN IT'S READ STRAIGHT OFF THE INSTRUCTIONS

breathe

*inhale* say it correctly please

We both did the GIF above at those two

Also we saw them say it while looking at the instructions

Now back to the story

I have the special glasses that activate sunglasses if they sense sunlight

Which is annoying when you walk inside a dark room after being outside for a while because it's not instantaneous

Laurie has noticed this and pointed it out a few times

During this particular viewing of chess, I had sat in a spot that had sunlight directly hitting my glasses making it kind of hard to see when your whole word has gotten six shades darker than it's supposed to be

When he offered me his hat.

You know, the one that he pretty much never takes off unless we're doing loads of running or jumping

That hat seems to have the exact same value as my books to him

And he's offering it to me

I said yes because it would be rude not to

He probably would never had asked for it back unless I offered it back because I wore that hat for a solid hour

Again, friendly or flirty? I DIDN'T KNOW WHAT TO THINK

AAAAAH REBLOG TIME!

[lhugbereth]

Peace in the Beyond

ArdyNoct Week Day 6 // Afterlife // @ardynoctweek

Though the past can never be altered, the 'beyond' offers both Noctis and Ardyn a chance to come to terms with the lives they've left behind.

Read on AO3

1731 words, Gen (fluff)

As he strode through the dusty halls of the Citadel, letting his fingers brush over the fading, peeling wallpaper, Noctis felt his heart grow heavy with memories. How many years had passed since he last stood here? Really stood here, not just in spirit but in body, as well. Already it seemed a lifetime ago - and perhaps it had been. He'd become a poor judge of mortal time as of late.

Still, when he looked down the hall stretched out before him, he could picture the scenes of his childhood as though they were actually playing out before his eyes.

"Prince Noctis!" A young boy with chestnut hair and glasses too large for his delicate face emerges from behind a tapestry. "Noct, please come out. I'll get in trouble again if we're late!" Fretting, nearly in tears, the boy searches behind curtain after curtain, to no avail. "Noct, where are you…?"

The boy sat down to cry, and Noct favored him with a sad smile. "Sorry, Specs. I was hiding under my bed the whole time. I didn't mean for you to get in trouble, but thanks for forgiving me."

The scene changes. The young vision of Ignis is gone, replaced by the taller figure of a regal man. He's facing away, but it's obvious that he's smiling, laughing even, as his shoulders tremble with mirth. For a time, he waits. Until at last a small child, barely able to walk upright, teeters out from between his feet. "Attaboy, Noct," Regis says, giggling while he watches his son take his first steps.

"Dad…." Another pang hit him and Noct at last turned away. Sometimes, this place was filled with too many memories to bear.

But as he whirled around, Noct found himself facing a different figure. He, too, was tall, but with deep red hair and a haunting smile. This one was not surrounded by the same sourceless light as the others - not a memory then, but the real Ardyn.

Noct’s heart quickened.

"Thought I might find you here," Ardyn sighed as he took a step forward. Then another. "They say the place where one died always calls to them. Draws them back."

It was Noctis’ turn to sigh. "Guess that’s part of it. But I think…when I come here, it's to forget death. I want to remember what it was like to be alive."

Suddenly, the walls seemed to shiver, shudder; dust and debris shook loose from the top down, gradually fading away and leaving pristine marble in it's place. Light from nowhere and everywhere at once illuminated the hall, and if Noct listened closely enough he could almost hear the bustle of activity from the days when the Citadel was filled with life.

"Thanks," he grinned over his shoulder, and Ardyn exaggerated a bow.

"The least I can do for you, King."

"You know, you don't have to call me that." Noct favored Ardyn with a smile as he closed the distance and wrapped him in his arms. "Neither of us is a king anymore."

"Mm, true. Funny, isn't it?" The stretch of a tired smile against his cheek. "What I always wanted, and what you spent all those years trying to be. In the end, what did it matter?"

"Beats the hell outta me. Come on, let’s see what else is on." Noct took Ardyn by the hand and together they descended the steps of the Citadel. Where they were going, he wasn't yet sure, but he had a feeling they would find it along the way.  

He was right. Just beyond the gates, the pair stepped out not into the heart of Insomnia, but into a place far older. Thatched roofs and dirt roads, children playing and laughing as they chased strange little winged creatures in the garden. Noct thought he recognized them, but it wasn't until Ardyn let out a chuckle at his side that his suspicions were confirmed.

"Moogles! Lovely little creatures. It really has been an age."

"Where are we?"

"It would appear," Ardyn smiled sidelong at him. "That we've found my hometown. No place you've ever heard of, and destroyed long before your precious city was ever built on it's bones. Ah, look there - !"

In the middle of the path, a tiny, pudgy black ball of feathers streaks toward them. Hot on it's tail is a young man, a teen from the looks of him, with lanky arms and hair like a wildfire. He looks frantic, cursing under his breath as the chocobo eludes his grasp again and again. "Get back here, bird brain! I swear I'll make you into a pie when I catch you!!"

Noctis looked insulted. Ardyn grinned. "Oh, come now, I didn't really cook him. He was my favorite companion, after all."

"Hard to tell with you."

"Ouch."

But he merely smiled and squeezed Noct’s hand tighter. "I suppose I'd like to show you one more place, if you'd be so kind as to humor me?"

"Sure. Not like I’ve got anywhere else to be.”

Noctis took in the view as he strode alongside Ardyn through the quaint village. None of the people who passed turned to look at them - they were merely memories after all - but it felt...lonely. Perhaps there was a sadness that lingered over the place in death. Or perhaps the heaviness that hung in the air came from Ardyn himself, from the pain he had carried with him all those two thousand years and projected onto even his fondest memories. Either way, it filled Noct with a nameless longing, and he found himself drawn closer to the taller man’s side.

“Almost there, Highness,” came the familiar voice next to his ear. Noct glanced up, but Ardyn’s gaze was fixed ahead of them, a mysterious light playing in the golden orbs of his eyes.

The houses gradually fell away. A forest began to grow up around them, the trunks of the trees stretching and twisting as with the passage of a hundred years. Beneath their feet, the ground grew soft; grass, flowers, a dark green moss that seemed to grab at the soles of Noct’s shoes and make his steps slow, heavy. The air grew thick with the scent of the ancient woods.

“Ardyn,” he began, but the touch of a single finger to his lips silenced him. Ardyn smiled and pointed into the clearing.

There was a stone. No, not just a stone, something carved out of the stone - like a small statue or, Noct realized, a shrine. Crudely cut, chipped and worn with time, yet at the top he could make out the shape of two feathered wings spread out around a sun-like disc. Noctis recognized it as the ancient symbol of the Hexatheon.

No doubt about it. This was an altar to the Six.

“What are we…?”

“ Shh. ” As he squeezed his hand, Ardyn’s eyes fell closed. A rustle, movement on the far side of the clearing, and Noct’s attention was drawn away once more.

From out of the trees stumbles a figure. He’s young, perhaps thirty, his red-brown hair long and disheveled around his hollow face, matted in parts with dirt or dried blood. Around his shoulders he clutches a tattered shawl, and his haunted, yellow eyes dart in every direction as he moves quickly into the clearing.

At last, he appears certain he’s alone. Turning his gaze on the stone altar, he approaches, kneels down, bows his head. Speaks in a voice far more tired than one befitting his age. “You must be laughing to see me here. Perhaps…. Perhaps You don’t even notice my presence anymore.” His shoulders tremble as if he’s fighting back tears. “There was a time I came to You with anything. When You cared for me as one of Your own…. But now. Now look at me.”

He drops his head into his hands as his body is overcome. Shadows flicker beneath his pale skin, twitch and bulge under the surface, out of control. The man sobs as he attempts to once again lift his head. “Help me! Please! Why won’t You help me? Why are You punishing me!!”

Noct couldn’t stand to watch any longer. His own eyes stinging, he turned from the scene as the sound of Ardyn’s strained voice echoed around the clearing. It felt cruel, standing helplessly by as the man he once knew as his mortal enemy begged for mercy, his words falling on the deaf ears of the very gods who had betrayed him.

“Is this what you brought me here to see?” Deep blue eyes were pained, questioning as they searched yellow-gold. “Why…?”

“I wasn’t always a monster.” Ardyn had drawn back from him, was looking down at his hands. Between them he held a scarf - the same fabric as the shawl that had been wrapped around the vision of himself. “For many long years, I tried to repent for whatever the gods had found lacking within me. Surely I was to blame. Surely they could undo the curse.” When he looked up at Noctis, his smile was sad, and for the first time there seemed to be tears forming in the corners of his eyes. “But they never answered me again, not until it was far too late to beg for forgiveness.” 

Quiet settled around them, a delicate calm in the wake of Ardyn’s confession. It made sense now, why he’d led Noct here, and why he’d chosen to wait until this moment. It had been Noct’s own words that had opened the door for him - forgetting death, remembering life. For Ardyn, who had long been consumed by the demons of revenge, there was little left to celebrate about his mortality. Only this, the vision of the human being he had once been, was worth redeeming.

With a heavy smile, Noctis spread his arms. An invitation, one which Ardyn accepted after only a moment’s hesitation. He stepped into the embrace, sighed as gentle warmth embraced him, let his head come to rest on Noct’s shoulder.

“You’ve already paid for your mistakes,” that familiar voice whispered into his ear. Tears began to well behind the surface and spilled forth freely. Ardyn clung to Noct’s frame as the centuries of pain drained away from him, the burden eased by the light of compassion, of love. “And you are forgiven. If not by the gods, then by your King.”

[bussanbaby]

Some late mornings feel like they belong in romantic stories, full of dramatic confessions, heartache and breath-taking conclusions. This is not one of those mornings; instead, it’s a halcyon thing set on the summer cusp. While the air is warm and humid, the rain softly pattering over rooftops still holds a certain chill. A film of water makes the world look clean, windows and cars shimmering in the sun peeking in and out from behind clouds, golden rays reflecting against puddles nested in the cracks of New York streets.

  The clock is nearing the 10 a.m. mark, when Alec transfers the last pancake onto the already high-stacked, indulgent plate. There’s also freshly cut strawberries and maple syrup alongside a French press full of freshly brewed coffee. The muted music from the radio melts into his skin as Alec hums along to random notes, bare feet quiet on the kitchen floor, his hair mussed up and his face a home to dark stubble that he didn’t bother with shaving.

  As Alec pours the bitter-sweet coffee into two mugs, there are steps near the door, then a warm hand at his lower back and even warmer lips pressed into his shoulder. A shiver runs through his skin, leaving behind goosebumps all the way down his arms and his bare chest; previous hours come back to mind, images hazy like half-developed polaroid pictures.

  It was much earlier when they woke up, skin against skin, tangled in thin sheets and in each other, a want thrumming in their veins. There was no rush – at first kisses slow and wet and deep, kisses that lit fires along Alec’s spine and made Magnus hum with delight, kisses that left their mouths tingling and red. Then, hands pressed against hipbones and heavy breathing laced with laughter as Alec shifted himself into Magnus’ lap; it felt so good, to have Magnus so close, to have his arms around his waist as they moved together, a slow and steady trickle of heady pleasure rolling through their bodies.

 Afterwards, they stayed in bed a little longer, a little more sweaty and with bones heavy with satisfaction. They talked in pieces, words substituted by fingers dancing across skin and noises, nothing substantial, silence just as comfortable as words. Yet, they couldn’t bum around all day, so when Magnus had to pick up a work-related call that popped their post-sex bubble, Alec occupied the shower, leaving Magnus to do the same while he went to prepare them breakfast.

  Magnus’ hair is swept messily to the side and slightly damp when Alec cards his fingers through it and presses in for another kiss, a close-mouthed little thing tasting of peppermint . The goatee tickles against the ridge of his upper lip and when Alec pulls back, he stares for a moment, as there’s something so homely about Magnus sans his dark make up, something that makes him look softer and much more human, something that makes Alec want to kiss him again and he does exactly that. It never feels enough, to press his mouth against every centimeter of skin on Magnus’ body and still be starved for more.

  “Those for me?” Magnus asks, tilting his head towards the steaming pancakes with a mirthful smile tucked into the corner of his mouth, his nose bumping against Alec’s as they stand close, pulled together like magnets and unable to leave each other’s space.

  Alec lifts himself onto the counter island and sits cross-legged, a grin settled across his face.  “I might share if you’ll be nice.” He pushes the large plate towards Magnus and they both pick their portions, piling on enough pancakes for half an army.

  “I’m always nice.” Magnus says as he takes his first bite and after a moment of silence and a pointed eyebrow raise from Alec, he purses his lips in consideration, stern in contrast with his stuffed cheek. They share a glance, resulting in laughter and a roll of brown eyes. “Okay, I’m nice most of the time.”

  Alec has his plate resting dangerously on his knee and Magnus sits at the edge of a stool with his ankles crossed.  They don’t bother with full cutlery, instead picking at the food with forks sticky with syrup while they talk about work and exchange previously heard gossip. While Magnus animatedly tells the story of Catarina’s last funny patient encounter, Alec’s mind drifts, only half-registering the words.

  The rain keeps falling, Alec is warm and sated, his mind hazy at the edges and his body feeling full even without the food that coats his tongue with a sugar-sweet gauze. There’s spots of gold light dancing across Magnus’ sternum as he shifts to rest his elbow against the cabinet top, before swiping his fingers across his lower lip. Alec sighs, sips his coffee, just shy of burning his tongue.

  He’s been thinking lately, snagging his attention on daydreams and details that he never noticed before. When they work at home, Magnus in his favorite armchair with his feet up on an ottoman and books floating all around him, Alec curled into the couch surrounded by papers, he looks up, just to admire Magnus for a moment, take in his focused expression and the way he fiddles with the jewelry on his fingers, especially the one on his ring finger, twisting and turning it relentlessly to the tune of his thoughts. It draws attention, makes Alec consider how a gold band would look against Magnus’ skin.

  In boring meetings at the Institute, he doodles – it starts off with flowers, roses and gardenias, something mindless just to pass time, shapes and lines and words that don’t make much sense, but before he knows it, there are cat eyes staring up at him from the page and Alexander Lightwood-Bane is scribbled in the margin in his own handwriting. He keeps that page tucked into the back of his notebook, strangely sentimental.

  It gets worse – the idea never leaves him, but instead accompanies his every day, strangely pleasant and comforting. It makes him pull the golden suit jacket out from the back of his closet, the bitter memories lingering along the edges of the sleeves, but there’s something else now. Alec starts to understand why Shadowhunters wear gold at weddings.

  When he first realizes he wants to marry Magnus, it startles him, only for different reasons than most people, probably. Not because it’s a lifelong commitment and a huge milestone, but because he never thought he’d be allowed to see it as a possibility, of being with a man - out in the world, proud and present. But it is real, it is visceral, it is on the horizon, because they are in love that feels like a bottomless sea. A couple of years back, he would’ve thought that since Shadowhunters die young why bother, that he’s not allowed to have love, that it’s going to bring more grief than anything worthwhile. A couple of years back, he would’ve ran from himself and settled for a loveless life, a marriage that was nothing but a lie to keep other people happy.

  Now, he’s eating breakfast on a Saturday morning with the man he would give his life for, a man he would go down on one knee for this very moment if only he had a ring in his pocket, a man that is his future, no matter what life brings. He’s found his home and he’s found his heart and finally, he belongs somewhere, with someone.

  “Alec? Are you with me?”

  At the sound of Magnus’ voice, Alec blinks rapidly, bringing the world back into focus. Everything is muted, like his head’s underwater and he’s just surfacing; the coffee he’s holding is dangerously close to spilling over his lap until he tips it back straight with a sheepish smile and fingers dancing over the chipped ridge of the mug. There’s no pretending he wasn’t listening. “Sorry.”

  Even without picking his head up from where he’s watching the frayed threads at the bottom of his sweatpants,  Alec knows he’s being studied – there are careful and attentive eyes dancing across his face, over his chest and down to his fidgeting hands. Then, the clink of a fork set down, a quiet sigh, the scrape of wood against tile, a tender touch of warmth over Alec’s wrist.

  “You’re overthinking something, aren’t you?”

  Alec lifts up his head, tangling their fingers together, absentmindedly running the pad of his thumb over the smooth polish covering Magnus’ nails. He fights a smile, his upper lip twitching.

  “Is it that obvious?”

  “You’re just easy to read sometimes.” Magnus shrugs, doesn’t push for the answer, instead just picks up his mugful of coffee and takes a large gulp, patient and understanding and too good for Alec.

  Even if sometimes a question is bright and sharp at the edges, it’s hard to get it out, something keeping the air in his lungs. So instead of talking for a moment, Alec takes in the different jars lined along the shelves, watches raindrops race down the glass, focuses on the feel of Magnus’ skin against his.

  “Have you ever… um- you’ve lived for a long time, so have you thought about marriage? Have you ever wanted to get married?”

  The saying goes – expect the unexpected; judging by the way Magnus’ eyebrows go up, that wasn’t a question he was ready for, his lips parted around silence before slowly shifting into a curious smile. He wets his lips before he speaks, fingers tightening their grip on Alec’s. “Of course I’ve wanted it. I thought, Camille and I, that it would be with her, but she quickly shut me down, cynical as always.”

  There’s a wrinkle between Magnus’ eyebrows, his faced pulled tight with memories and Alec shifts, stretches out his legs to let them hang off the counter at Magnus’ sides;  closer, closer, until he’s able to rest his forehead against Magnus’, who sighs from the bottom of his lungs. Things like these never come easy, even after decades.

  “She told me marriage would just be a ball and chain at my feet. That I should just be free, because nobody will want to marry a warlock anyway.”

  Alec doesn’t resist the urge to roll his eyes, as he lifts their hands closer, presses his coffee-warmed mouth against Magnus’ palms, over his knuckles to where the wedding ring usually sits.

  “I want to.”

  At the words, Magnus pulls back, the expression on his face unreadable for a moment before he shakes his head minutely. It’s something Alec notices pretty early on – any show of affection, whether by words or actions, results in the subtle gesture of disbelief, as if it is new, as if Magnus has to get used to reverence again. It makes sense, in a way: to isolate himself from hurt and to sever the ties with his past is often to forget.

  Still, soon the initial surprise melts into a fond smile with a playful edge; Magnus keeps looking, eyes brighter than before. “Did you just propose to me, Alexander?”

  The significance of Alec’s own words finally kicks in and a wave of warmth rushes out of his chest, reaching to color his cheeks and neck ruddy, not with embarrassment, but pleasure, a giddy spark deep in his heart. He’s not afraid anymore to reach for a happy ending.

  “If I did, would you say yes?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then it’s a promise.”

[mydslocum]

project 3

The graphic artist that I’m going to write about is Chip Kidd is an American graphic design.  Kidd had design famous book cover designs from hardcover novel books to comic books. His base of operation is in the New York City (the big apple). Mr. Kidd has become the most famous book cover designer in today’s date. Chip Kidd is not only a graphic designer, but he is also a writer, book designer, editor, author, lecturer and musician. Kidd’s famous work is the Watchman comic book cover (2008), Batman animated book cover (1998). He is also credited for working on Bat-Manga! (2008) and Jack Cole and Plastic Man: Forms Stretched to Their Limit (2001).

  Charles (Chip) Kidd 1st was born on September 12, 1964 (in his 50’s now) in Shillington, Berks County, Pennsylvania, USA. When Chip was a kid he grew up with American pop culture through television mostly in the daylight, but was a huge fan of Batman, and starting collection the Dark Knight merchandise. (Rob Daubenspeck, 2010) It’s cool that when Chip was a kid he was inspired to become an artist at a young age just by watching television, and that his favorite superhero is Batman. I found that to be very true, because when an at a young age I was inspired to be an artist just by playing old Super Mario games, reading comics, and cartoons. That was the start to become an artist for me or for anyone, because art is everywhere and that when you see it for the first time that is what you would want to do in the future.

             Mr. Kidd attended Pennsylvania State University majoring in graphic design program, then he graduated in 1986 with a degree of graphic or public design. Soon after Chip started working for Knopf Doubleday Publishing Group (Knopf) working as a junior assistant, but he worked hard designing over 75 book covers in a year. Mr. Kidd still work at the Knopf, but moved up as an art director. He also oversees the production of comic book covers for Pantheon. Soon after his work became so known that Mr. Kidd work along with many famous artists Jack Cole, the creator of plastic man. The two of them made Jack Cole and Plastic Man: Forms Stretched to Their Limits. In 2003 (FamousGraphicDesigners.org, 2017) Another famous artist that he worked with is Nelson Alexander Ross aka Alex Ross famous for Earth X #1–12 (1999–2000). Those two design and wrote a short comic called "The Trust," in Mythology: The DC Comics Art of Alex Ross in 2003. As Mr. Kidd worked along many artist he got to work with a film adaptation of Michael Crichton’s Jurassic Park novel in 1990(FamousGraphicDesigners.org, 2017).  It amazing that Mr. Kidd has worked alongside many famous artist and writers. That is the what I would work hard to do as an artist, and someday I hope that I can work with these people with these famous comic artists or a video game designer like Hideo Kojima the creator of the metal gear solid series or even Hironobu Sakaguchi creator of final fantasy. (Gamedesigning.org, 2017) These are just example of the people that I would love to work with in time with hard work, and when I make a name for myself in time, just one step at a time.

  Mr. Kidd’s design style is more art than science (Carly L. Roberts, 2008), because first he reads the book, then after he pictures what he wants to draw in his mind, and capture the books design. He even takes risk in his work, even though one of his work described by Updike as “monstrously ugly” (Carly L. Roberts, 2008). I find that to be ok, because when your work is judged, and gets review, you can take their input and remake it into something better. Kidd learned that the best style is no style (Carly L. Roberts, 2008). True, because having a best style doesn’t make it better than any other style, so it is just like any other art style.

  Mr. Kidd has won some awards like the International Center of Photography's Infinity Award for Design in 1997, work he designed unknown (icp.org,1974-2017). Another award he was awarded with was the National Design Award for Communication in 2007 for Communications Design, work unknown (cooperhewitt.org, 2017), the Inkpot award in 2015 at Comic-Con for his comic arts (chipkidd.com,2016) another award that he won is The American Institute of Graphic Arts or AIGA medal in 2014 for his book covers like the 1996 Naked, the 1999 Wind-up bird chronicles, and the 1990 Jurassic park book cover (aiga.org, 2017).  Mr. Kidd work is spoke highly of like in USA Today newspaper the applaud his spirit in the graphic designing and called him “the closest thing to a rock star” in the industry (FamousGraphicDesigners.org, 2017).

  The first (A1) of his work that I admire is one of his comic book covers Watchmen cover 2008. This art piece is a good example of an old-school cover look. It has good texture in the wrinkles of the brow, and when you look at the cover it’s like the character is looking at you with a serious look. Plus, Doctor Manhattan is a good character to use in this cover seeing that he is the only threw out the comic with super-powers, he might be called the superman of America or a god like figure, Also the first Nite Owl (Hollis T. Mason) calls his arrive the dawn of a superhero. The font is a nice san-serif. It looks like that each black shape was cut out of the word and placed out on the yellow background and arrange to make the word/title of the book. This cover is easy to read with, and it also have nice range of blue’s in the skin which creates volume of light and dark areas. The contracts of the lines are thin and thick in the face. Plus, the title is well written because it rhymes. This Cover is well made, and it goes well with the story.

  The second (A2) of his work that I admire is another one of his cover that is a manga called Bat-Manga cover 2008. This is another art piece that has a 60’s retro look and combined with Japanese culture, because manga is Japan’s word used to refer to both comics and cartooning. It has good range of warm colors in the background. I do like the pose of Batman on how he is drawn. Batman has good contrast and good details in the cape which give strong texture. The hole batman drawn is well detailed even in the face showing that he is ready to use or using his grappling hook which gives the view a question view.  This also has a Japanese style with the font in both English and Japanese, the title has a nice serif style, while the Batman title is handwritten Japanese. It’s a great Adam West batman manga in 60’s timeline.

 The third (A3) of his work that I admire is book cover that is the Jurassic Park novel cover 1990. This cover is well done with the shadow of the T-rex bones which give a hint on what the book is about for people who hadn’t seen the movie. The bones are drawn well and a good shade of black to make it look like a shadow, also the contrast in the thick lines of sharp teeth, and the ribs, also the ribs mirage into the bones to form one shape. The background is nice and plan to show that shadow of the bones which makes it interesting to view. The fonts of both the title and author of the book are a good san-serif, both have color, but the title of the author has red in it which could mean that there will be blood in this book because dinosaurs are dangerous.

 The fourth (A4) of his work that I admire is another comic book cover is the Batman: Death by Design cover, 2012. This cover has good grayscale from light to dark areas which brings volume. Also, showing that batman is hanging upside down is a good view of showing that the Dark Knight is doing what all bats do, hanging upside down. Plus, the Gotham is aligned with batman’s top head to give it some depth and its doesn’t make it clutter.  The title is a bold san-serif font, and the title batman is black with a white shadow in the back to give it some mystery and illusion. I also like that the symbol is up that way it’s not upside down with batman to make the symbol look funny.

 The fifth (A5) of his work that I admire is another book cover called Wind-Up Bird Chronicles cover, 1999.  This cover is a well done spread that has a movement when you open the book. Your eye will catch the bird from its head to its tail. This cover has a nice range of colors and pattern in the bird its self. Even adding light drawn of clock-work parts make the book title go into its theme. Plus, it almost looks life like even though the bird is a wind-up too, that the colors gives it texture.  Also, I do like the san-serif font, on the title, also making it a shape, and the text is aligned with the bird’s head which makes it very nice to look at instead of straight line, which creates movement in when reading. Over all this is a modern design that goes well with the book.

 Work Cited

 Biography:  Rob Daubenspeck, 2010,                                            

                    http://pabook2.libraries.psu.edu/palitmap/bios/Kidd__Chip.html, web, 2017

                    Famousgraphicdesigners, http://www.famousgraphicdesigners.org/chip-kidd ,web, 2017

                      Carly L. Roberts, 2008,  

                      http://www.austinchronicle.com/books/2000-09-08/78515/, web, 2017

  Awards: ICP, https://www.icp.org/infinity-awards/past-recipients, web, 2017

              Cooperhewitt, https://www.cooperhewitt.org/national-design-awards/, web, 2017

                Aiga ,http://www.aiga.org/medalist-chip-kidd, web, 2017

                Chipkidd ,http://chipkidd.com/home/tag/eisner-awards/, web, 2017

   Images: A1 - Watchmen cover, 2008, http://chipkidd.com/home/portfolio-3/, web, 2017

              A2 - Bat-Manga cover, 2008, http://chipkidd.com/home/portfolio-3/, web, 2017  

                A3 - Jurassic Park novel cover 1990, http://chipkidd.com/home/portfolio-3/, web, 2017

                A4 - Batman: Death by Design cover, 2012,          http://chipkidd.com/home/portfolio-3/, web, 2017

                A5 - Wind-Up Bird Chronicles cover, 1999,  http://chipkidd.com/home/portfolio-3/, web, 2017

  Other information:   https://www.gamedesigning.org/gaming/famous-video-game designers/