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dancingazaleas · 4 years ago

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eren yeager | best friend’s brother (smut)

ok i’m sure this is kind of surprising since i don’t really speak of eren

also no i don’t want to talk about how this is based off of victorious

warnings/notes: cursing, mikasa and eren are brother and sister, drummer!eren, modern au, secret relationship, everyone is 19, nsfw, eventual smut, slight dubcon, slight vouyerism, spanking, clit slapping, degradation, slight praise, choking, tummy bulge, edging, overstimulation, breeding kink, minors dni with this post pls, tell me if i missed anything

you know exactly who’s all going to be home whenever you call mikasa. but you still ask, like you always have, in order to lessen suspicion.

“it’s just me, eren, and zeke. i think zeke has pieck over tonight,” she sighs in slight annoyance, “wanna watch a movie when you come over?”

you tell her yes just as you turn on mikasa’s street. you both hang up with a goodbye, and you feel excitement bubbling in your gut as your car drives you closer and closer to eren. you practically jump out of your car whenever it’s parked on the curb of mikasa’s house.

you squeal while skipping up to the front door, punching in the numbers on the keypad lock without looking. you shut the door quietly after you enter the home, taking in the multiple smells from all three siblings living in the house.

you’ve got to hand it to zeke, he’s got amazing taste. whenever grisha and his mother died, he inherited a lot of money from them and decided to buy himself a home. however, it changed when he found out eren’s mother died and that eren and their adoptive sister, mikasa, would be going into foster care. and with zeke being 19, a legal adult, he managed to fit the roll as a guardian for the two of them. they’ve all lived together for a couple of years now, and you’ve come to enjoy the dynamic between them all whenever you’re staying there for a while.

“oh hey, (name). when’d you get here,” zeke asks whenever you walk into the kitchen, he’s probably getting himself those finger sandwiches he buys himself.

“just now. mikasa in her room,” you stretch and peek over zeke’s shoulder to see what the fridge contains.

“should be. can you get out of my fridge,” he nudges you back with his elbow, which you ignore.

“do you have any baby belle cheese,” you shove him aside with your hip.

“yeah, we do,” you turn to look over your shoulder to see eren walking into the kitchen.

you have to stop yourself from running into his arms, instead starting to rummage through the drawers of the big refrigerator. zeke leaves the kitchen, but you only know that because eren’s front his pressing against your back and warm arms wrap around your waist and his head head rests on your shoulder to whisper in your ear.

“didn’t tell me you were coming over tonight,” he mocks disappointment while you take a baby bell cheese.

“wanted it to be a surprise,” you smile, stepping away from the fridge and opening the packaging of the cheese. eren still clings to you.

“it was a nice surprise,” he kisses at the back of your ear while he squeezes you tight.

you turn your head to look at eren, puckering your lips for a sweet kiss.

eren, not being able to say no to you, obliges and gives you a sweet and lingering kiss on your lips. he pouts whenever you pull away and plop the cheese in your mouth, moving away from him to throw away the wrappings.

“ask mikasa to watch a movie with me,” he requests—more like demands.

“sure,” you nod, “i’ll see you in a few minutes.”

you trudge out of the kitchen and up the stairs, barging into mikasa’s dark room. you watch her jump in her bed, obviously frightened with the abrupt entrance.

“hi hi,” you chant while closing the door behind you, jumping onto her bed next to her.

“you scared me.”

“i know,” you roll your eyes, “wanna watch a movie downstairs?”

“depends... what movie?”

you hum, “maybe the addams family, something like that.”

“yeah, if it’s the addams family then i’ll watch,” she says, scrolling through instagram.

“wanna see if eren will watch,” she asks you while she likes a post by sasha on her phone. the picture was of her, jean, and connie.

“sure, i’ll text him,” you pull out your phone, immediately pulling up eren’s contact and messaging him.

luckily, you’re able to hide the lovey dovey messages sent from eren. you text that mikasa does want to watch a movie and to be downstairs in three minutes.

“he said yea,” eren hadn’t even replied yet.

mikasa and you get off of her bed, making your way down the hallway and down the stairs while talking.

“popcorn?”

“yea, sounds so good right now,” you sigh happily, “we gonna cuddle?”

mikasa snickers at your question, “of course.”

you laugh a little before pushing her in the direction of the kitchen, settling yourself down in the middle on the long sofa. you pull up the addams family on the tv, smiling gently whenever eren comes in the room with his phone in his hands.

“sit at my feet, i’m cuddling with mikasa,” he scoffs at the claim, but puts your legs in his lap.

mikasa comes back into the room with a bowl of popcorn in her hand and some sodas in her hands. she manages to flip the light switch off in the living room while on her way to put everything on the coffee table in front of you. mikasa sits down when you lift your head, welcoming the weight of your head coming down her clothed thighs.

before you start the movie, mikasa asks eren, “do you have rehearsal tomorrow?”

“yeah. jean and annie’ll be here at like 11,” he sighs in slight frustration just as you start the movie.

“sucks for you,” you snort absentmindedly, pulling the bowl of popcorn into your body on top of your stomach.

eren flicks your leg with his fingers while mikasa ignores the both of you and continues to watch the movie.

during the movie, you notice a text from eren that asks you to stay with him after his rehearsal tomorrow, claiming that mikasa and zeke should be out of the house.

you turn off your phone with a giddy smile. you have a good feeling about tomorrow.

————

you’re laying in eren’s bed while he practices his drumming with his band in a few rooms over. you text mikasa the whole time, who’s telling you about some drama between zeke and her cousin, levi. well, it’s not really drama, levi and zeke just have a love-hate friendship. it makes you laugh, especially since the usually cocky and narcissistic man known as zeke was usually getting his ass chewed out by levi.

“i’m so horny,” eren groans while he walks into the room. menace.

you roll your eyes at him, continuing to text mikasa. eren’s pouting as he flops down next to you, face pressing against your neck.

“didn’t you just get out rehearsal? how do you have energy after drumming for an hour and a half,” you ignore the nipping of eren.

“‘dunno,” he sighs against your skin, sending chills up and down your spine.

you shut off your phone, throwing it to the side and pulling eren from your neck. you kiss him, to which he reciprocates happily, while he goes to straddle your waist.

his hands are already groping at your chest and his breath is already heavy against your mouth.

you pull away, “have you been horny since the beginning of rehearsal??”

he grumbles out a yes while he bites and sucks at your neck. your laughter is interrupted by a gasp when eren bites particularly hard on your neck. his hands creep up under your shirt, only to find a surprise.

“you’re not wearing a bra,” he asks, pushing the shirt up over your boobs.

“didn’t feel the need to,” you mumble with embarrassment as eren’s eyes stare at your chest.

without a second thought, his lips are attached to one tit, sucking hickies onto the skin around your areola. you whimper when he punches and twists a nipple with his fingers, chest slightly bucking up and burying his face further into your tits. eren feels like he’s in heaven.

when eren pulls away, he takes a moment to admire your tits. bruised and abused, glistening with his saliva under the lights in his room.

“pretty,” he mumbles, finally pushing your shirt entirely off of your body.

you wiggle your hips as a signal that eren takes. he’s ridding himself of his shirt and pants before he takes off your own pants. his fingers just barely swipe across the outsides of your thighs, giving you goosebumps.

eren’s spreading your legs apart, staring at the wet stain on your panties. you try to push your hips in his face, but eren swings his left arm around your hips to hold them down. his right hand is teasingly stroking your clit through the thin fabric of your underwear. each swipe of his thumb has your whole body tensing, something that has him smirking.

“please,” you bite your lip while you stare into his eyes.

instead of indulging in your desires, he’s pulling his body away from the spot between your legs. only to take off your underwear, and then settle between your legs again.

“you’re all wet and i’ve barely done anything,” he comments, running a fingertip against your slit.

you whimper whenever eren shoves two of his fingers inside of you unexpectedly. he doesn’t give you time to adjust to his fingers, immediately setting himself a tempo as he fucks you with his fingers.

moaning and acting without thinking, your hand tugs at his long hair. he almost immediately pulls his fingers outside of you, fingertips slapping at your needy clit. your hips buck while you apologize.

“pull my hair like that again and you won’t get to cum,” he resumes his finger fucking, slightly smiling at how your hands immediately go to grip at the sheets now. he’s trained you so well.

“do you hear that,” he snickers while curling his finger, squelch sounds following after.

“cumming! cumming,” you pant a few moments later, eyes squeezing shut.

eren immediately pulls his fingers out of you, resulting in a cry from you. he laughs sadistically as he repeats the process over and over and over again, so much that you’ve lost count, tears now running down your cheeks. he lets you come this time, admiring the blissed out look on your face as you moan wantonly.

but his hand moves to your clit now, listening to your pleading that you’re too sensitive.

“shut up and take it,” he stops his maneuvers on your clit to slap your clit again.

you yelp and buck your hips, starting to open your mouth to plead until he starts rubbing your clit again. you orgasm quickly, back arching against eren’s mattress.

“eren,” you whimper, legs shaking while eren pulls his hand away.

“what do you want, pretty girl,” he sits on his knees, looking down at your crying face.

“more,” you sniffle, small hand reaching out for him.

“more of what,” he raises a taunting eyebrow, catching your wrist in his hand, “c’mon, use your words, you’re a big girl.”

“you... more of you.”

“that’s not an answer,” he reaches down to wipe away a tear.

“want you inside me,” you pout and wiggle your hips again.

“you want it or need it?” he smirks while tilting his head.

you whine, “need it. need you here, ‘ren.”

you guide his hand to your tummy while you speak and eren feels his cock throb in his boxers.

“fuck,” he groans, roughly flipping you over to lay on your stomach.

you yelp, reaching out to hold onto the pillow your head was just laying on. he’s forcing you to arch your back, and the way he forces you to do it is almost unrealistic. he’s tossing his boxers across the room for him to search for later, reaching down to pump his cock in his hand.

his hands lay heavy on your ass, spreading your plump cheeks apart to get a better view.

your cheek squishes against the pillow as you stare at him over your shoulder, needy pout on your face. he chuckles at your eyes closing whenever he finally shoves his huge cock inside of you.

“so big,” you sob, “so big, ren.”

he ignores you, pulling him cock out of you until the tip before slamming his hips against your ass. you yelp as soon as eren starts to thrust in and out of you ruthlessly. so hard that you’re sure you’ll have bruises on the back of your thighs for a few days.

however, his hips still whenever he hears the front door of the house creaking open and a voice calling out.

“eren! i’m home,” mikasa calls out while she shuts the door behind her.

you reach your hand back to shove eren off of you, not wanting to risk the chance of mikasa even hearing you. eren grabs your wrist with one hand while the other slaps your asscheek harshly.

“okay, i’m about to take a nap,” he replies to mikasa, knowing full well she’s already making her way up the stairs.

“okay,” she replies, going into her room. her room that’s right next to eren’s.

“eren,” you whisper, “she’s gonna hear.”

“don’t act so innocent,” he growls, “i bet you want mikasa to hear. to hear just how you’re getting fucked like the slut you are.”

you whimper, “no... no.”

“want her to hear how good you’re feeling,” eren smiles sadistically as you turn your head to bury your face in the pillow.

he hears your whining faintly whenever he starts to thrust his hips again. your moans are being muffled by his pillow, and even so, you’re sure that mikasa knows what’s going on by the sound of eren’s skin slapping against your own.

he puts his hands onto your shoulders, leaning his weight onto you as he speeds up his thrusts. you’re almost screaming in his pillow now, nails clawing at the sheets under you.

“gonna come,” he groans breathily, “you gonna come when mikasa’s in the next room over?”

he watches you nod your head, which makes him bite his lips while releasing a groan.

he whispers in your ear, spitting out a command for you, “go ahead. go ahead and cum like the slut you are. give mikasa a show.”

you moan loudly into his pillow, pussy fluttering around his fat cock as you orgasm.

he fucks you through it, not slowing down his fast and vigorous thrusting.

“hurts,” you cry.

“don’t care,” he says, reaching a hand around your body to grip onto your neck.

he’s pulling you up with him, back flushed against his front as he thrusts wildly. you look like a mess, saliva dripping down your chin along with your tears, eyes glossed over.

your hand touches against your tummy gently, whimpering at the feeling of the bulge that is eren.

“feel you,” you mewl quietly, “feel you here, ‘rennie.”

he presses the hand not wrapped around your neck against your tummy, groaning out. his thrusts speed up at full speed, something he does not do often, but eren’s eager to fuck his seed inside of you.

“gonna cum, gonna fuck my kids into your slutty pussy,” he grumbles, slapping a hand over your mouth whenever it opens to moan.

“you want that, huh? w-want me to fuck a kid into you? maybe then mikasa’ll get the hint,” his voice is shaky when he feels you tighten around him.

he snickers, “fuckin’ slut. tightening around me whenever i spew that shit. you want her to hear you being fucked stupid, huh?”

you shake your head while you shut your eyes again. another orgasm is approaching, and you’re not sure that you can handle holding it in.

eren notices and decides to take pity on you.

“go ahead, cum,” and you do. you gush all over his cock and sheets, hands scratching at his wrist as you scream into the palm of his hand.

“fuck,” he hisses whenever he feels his balls tighten.

he comes not too long after you, finally slowing his pace down to a grind. he lets you drop onto the bed on your tummy, spreading your legs open to admire how his cum leaks out of you.

you’re absolutely sure that mikasa heard, but you’re too fucked out to care. she’ll confront you if she knows, and that’s when you’ll worry.

but then again, your best friend’s brother is irresistible.

#attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #snk #aot fanfiction #snk fanfiction #tw: dubcon #eren aot #eren yaegar #attack on titan eren #snk eren #eren x you #eren smut #eren jeager x reader #eren jeager smut #eren jeager #eren x reader #eren yeager x reader #aot smut #snk smut

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iwadori · 4 years ago

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Atsumu dating Kita's younger sister (their manager). That's it. That's the request. Hope you like this prompt 🤞😅

Dating your brothers teammate (Atsumu)

Part One Part Two Part Three

Word count: 1.6K

Genre: angst, fluff

ATSUMU

You and Atsumu started dating a month after Kita introduced you in your first year

You’re now in your second year and still going strong

However, no ones knows about your relationship since Atsumu said you being the manager and him being the setter it will affect the team dynamic?

You start the day off, seeing a message from your boyfriend,

‘Tsumu: Mornning babe, can’t wait to see you today!

You don’t respond, you are Atsumu have been at odds for the past few weeks as you feel like you guys should make your relationship public. Not even public per se, but you definitely feel it shouldn’t be hidden away especially with it being nearly two years of you being together.

Of course, Atsumu disagreed. He felt like at this moment you and him revealing your relationship to the team will just mess up the ‘dynamics’ or whatever that’s supposed to mean.

You get ready for school eating the breakfast your grandma made you and conversing with her and Kita before you both headed off to school together meeting Aran on the way.

You had an early morning practice and you didn’t mind it. To be honest, you love being around the team you were all a little family, you having a good relationship with all the guys.

This morning, the guys were all practicing different sorts of skills Kita was helping some of the gives with dives and receives and the rest doing other things. You were helping Osamu, Suna and Atsumu with there serves.

Regardless of your public or private relationship status with Atsumu, you the twins and Suna were all good friends. You did have a slight inclination that Osamu and Suna knew of the relationship with you and Suna but just didn’t bring it up.

At the end of practice, the usual fan club was there waiting for the twins and the other guys to flirt and talk with them. As you are their manager, you did get some slight hate and jealousy from the other girls in your year but you didn’t pay no mind to it.

When leaving practice, Atsumu (who usually walks with you to your class) gets stopped by a girl who seems to have something important to say so you politely step to the side (still in ear shot though.)

“Miya-san” she said a bit nervous as her finger were shaking “I have this letter I would like for you to read.”

He took the letter and said “Thank you, and you can just call me Atsumu” he smile at her.

“Thank you Atsumu, I hope to hear a response to you soon” she says about to walk away “Also, just to clarify you are single right?”

“Yes yes of course” he assures quickly making you annoyed “Why did you ask?”

“I assumed you were dating your manager, you seem pretty close”

“Oh her” he laughs and you already start to walk to your lesson leaving him behind “we’re just friends”

This makes the girl smile as she leaves, Atsumu turns to where you were standing shocked that you were completely vanished. He did think back to the conversation you had a week ago about your relationship status which did make him kind of sad for you since he did understand your reasoning he just wanted to you atleast wait it out till nationals is done.

He finds you at lunch, and to him it seems you don’t have a problem with him at all as you were being your usual smiley self interacting with him and all of your friends. So he assumed everything was fine (which it wasn’t of course.)

The next day at practice, when it ended the same girl came back again this time with friends and instead of approaching Atsumu they decided to approach you.

“Hi you’re the manager right?” one of them asks.

“Yup I have been for the past couple years.” you say

“Oh and you’re definitely not dating any of the guys on the team right?”

“I don’t see why it’s any of your business, but no i’m not.” it pained you to say this but you did agree with Atsumu to say you weren’t dating to people and as much as it pained you to say this you couldn’t break your ‘agreement.’

Once the girls leave, you start to softly cry because you don’t want to have to hide your relationship anymore. Atsumu enters the corridor and sees you upset and rushes towards you, “Hey babe what’s wrong with you?” he asks

“Nothing ‘tsumu just go back to practice” you murmur

“No i’m not going until you tell me whats wrong?”

“it’s just that girl that confessed to you yesterday and her friends approached me about if I was dating anyone and i-”

“what did you say, he told them no right?” he interrupts

“Is that all you care about? Wether I keep our relationship secret or not ..” you say slightly raising your voice

“Well I would appreciate if you don’t go round telling the world that you’re dating me gosh Y/N” he shouts a bit

“I’m not even fucking doing that, I havent told a soul and that’s all because of YOU”

You’re screaming match has alerted the team (who you didn’t notice) and they all stood around you watching before Kita steps in “Y/N are you okay??”

“yeah i’m fine bro” you say preparing to leave with tears still in your eyes “I just got into an argument with a friend”

Before you leave the corridor you look back at Atsumu and catch all the guys attention when you say “Also Atsumu, happy anniversay ‘babe’”

“I KNEW IT!” shouts Osamu but Suna nudges him telling him to ‘read the room.’ Kita slowly approaches Atsumu and punches him in the face “I don’t care what you did but you made my sister cry so you better go fix it you dick”

Atsumu nodded and clutched his face, “Also I think it was pretty evident that you guys were dating.”

“Wait they were dating?” said Aran

You were in your room, scrolling through old pictures of you and Atsumu and looking at the presents he was going to give him for your anniversary still crying. You hear a knock on your door “Granny, I’m not hungry right now” you shout. But the door opens anyways “Granny I said I wasn-” you pause when you see a bruised Atsumu ‘Kita’ you think making yourself smile at the thought of your brother coming to your defence.

“Y/N, i’m sorry baby for trying to hide our relationship and not seeing how wrong it was until it was knocked into me... literally” he says cautiously sitting on your bed “ I’ve always wanted to be able to show off to the world but I just couldn’t cause I thought Kita would be mad and I genuinely thought it would mess up the team dynamic, however I’d rather have Kita be mad at me and the team loosing nationals if it meant getting to date you”

His words make you swoon and to add on to your fawning he whips out a wrapped up box giving it to you. When you open it, you see it’s a necklace with both your initials on it “ Happy anniversay babe, this has been one of the best years of my life.”

You silently hand him your presents, murmuring a quiet “Happy anniversary.” After seeing your presents, he gives you a big deep hug whispering mutiple thank yous and compliments into your neck making you smile.

“So does this mean we’re in a public relationship? right?” you ask making sure you were on the same page.

“Of course!” he exclaims “Also check your phone”

You look down at your phone seeing a bunch of notifications all tagging you in one post that was from Atsumu on instagram. It was 8 pictures of him and you and a caption that read *insert long romantic sappy paragraph that I’m too lazy too write since its 3 am :3*

Your heart was overwhelmed with love for Atsumu, you spent the rest of your night cuddling and watching movies and before you went to sleep you told him you loved him.

Waking up the next morning, you thought it was all a dream to be honest. Because there was no way that Atsumu did all that right? You go downstairs and are shocked at the sight you see, Atsumu and Kita both sitting down eating breakfast together “What are you doing with my boyfr-” you stop yourself from finishing that sentence,

“Its okay Y/N you can say boyfriend, I have given your boyfriend the talk I just had to make sure that he knows that if he was ever to lay a finger on you that he would definitely get a bi-”

“Ughh nii-chan you’re being so embarrasing” you say pulling Atsumu back upstairs hearing Kita’s laughter in the backround.

You and Atsumu, stay together and it wasn’t much of a suprise when your relationship was public to the rest of the school and that girl that wanted Atsumu she ended up with Osamu anyways (it does makes sense since they do have the same face afterall.) Kita enjoys his days embarassing the both of you whenever you’re at your house. But you don’t care since you can finally show off to the world how great your boyfriend is.

Authors Notes: I don’t know if you wanted it to have angst in it but I hope you enjoy? Might make this a series so if you want anymore characters Request them and I’ll write for them too

#haikyu #haikyu angst #haikyu fluff #haikyuu x reader comfort #haikyu headcanons #haikyuu-fluff #haikyu x reader #haikyu scenarios #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu x reader #atsumu scenarios #atsumu x you #atsumu angst #atsumu x reader #atsumu fluff #atsumu headcanons #signedwithane😌

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apricotgojo · 4 years ago

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hello love! I got bored and thought of this. So it’s the readers bday and they like Adrien. Adrien like the reader and marinette hates that he does. So like reader is planning on throwing a party bc it’s their birthday so marinette decided to throw a party on the same day at the same time. And since reader is kinda new, everyone decided to go to Mari’s party. So that happens, but when Adrien gets to readers party, they’ve done gone batshit crazy, like screaming, crying, smashing things, idk just losing their shit. Not like in anger, they’re just really hurt by it. No hawk moth tho😩 hawkdaddy go on vacay or sum🤺🤺 Mk sorry this is long and it’s late and I’m kiiinndaaa drunk and in da feels anyway bye bye

HELLO ANON! SORRY FOR THE LONG WAIT BUT HERE IT IS! I never thought that i would have to write about mean marinette but here i am LMAO. i hope you like it bb <33

Pairing: Adrien Agreste X Reader

Warnings: Swearing.

Tags: angst, Marinette is a bitch in this oops, alexa play pity party by melaine martinez.

“Love, Adrien.”

“Wow, that’s really cringey Adrien.”

“Shut up plagg, I need to confess to her some way or another.”

Adrien Agreste is sprawled out on his bed and he just finished writing a birthday card for you. Yes, it was quite cheesy but he decided that today was going to be the day he confesses his feelings towards you. He’s had his eye on you ever since your first day of school and you’ve both gotten closer to each other, flirting constantly but never making a move. Needless to say, he was head over heels for you and was too much of a pussy to ever admit it. But tonight was the night.

You invited him over to your house for your birthday party along with your other classmates and he didn’t even think twice to agree – especially since his dad is at a fashion expo in Spain. All he wanted was for you to have the best birthday party you could possibly have. You really meant a lot to him.

his thoughts disappear when all of a sudden his phone beeps.

‘Y/N’S PARTY WILL BE HELD AT MY PLACE SO WE CAN SURPRISE HER, DON’T MENTION ANYTHING TO HER. 7PM ! DON’T BE LATE! ~Marinette’

‘Sorry, can’t come tonight.’ You frowned as you stared at your phone, seeing a text from Marinette. You and her weren’t really that close to be honest but you still wished for her to come and have a good time. You sighed and plopped down on your bed. It’s your sweet 16th and you wanted it to be perfect. You hoped that enough people would show up. It was your first birthday here in Paris and although you haven’t been here for a while, you thought that you already made close connections with your classmates, especially a certain blond.

All you wanted was for him to show up mostly, maybe tonight you could make a move. Maybe tonight you could possibly hold his hand, maybe dance with him, maybe give him a kiss on his soft cheek or a small peck on the lips-

Your face heated up at that thought and a grin appeared on your face. You hugged your pillow and quietly squealed. Tonight was the night and nothing could possibly ruin it.

Or so you hoped.

Everywhere was decorated with fairy lights, balloons and glitter. Music was already playing and there were drinks and snacks for everyone to enjoy. You were wearing the outfit you’ve been planning for ages and you were sitting down, leg bouncing as you wait for people to arrive.

Did you get the time incorrect? you did mention to everyone that you’re meeting up at 7pm. It was 7:15.

Maybe they were running late? But how could it be that all of them were running late?

You furrow your eyebrows and grab your phone. You go on Instagram to see if anyone posted anything about their whereabouts.

Kim was live.

You click on it and see him walking through a crowd of people.

“Marinette, this party is amazing!” you hear him shout.

“Thanks Kim.” You hear her say.

Your jaw drops Anger starts bubbling inside of you.

Kim turns the phone up and shows Nino on the dj stand. He waves to the camera.

“Adrien! say hi to my live.” Adrien appears next to Kim. He was caught off guard. He smiles sheepishly and waves at the camera awkwardly.

Your phone drops out of your grasp and tears start rolling down your cheeks furiously.

Adrien was looking everywhere for you. it was already 8pm and he was wondering when you’d show up. He held your gift and note close to his chest, he wanted to personally give them to you.

“H-hey Adrien..” The voice of Marinette makes him turn around to face her.

“Marinette! Where’s the birthday girl?” He asks, furrowing his eyebrows.

Marinette stares at him for a moment and nervously chuckles. “oh- well- she uh- she can’t make it!” He shrugs and laughs again. “did you get something to drink? We have pomegranate juice, peach lemonade, spr-“

“what do you mean she can’t make it? Why the hell is the party still going?” Adrien questions, looking around in disbelief.

“Adrien i-“

“Marinette, your plan is totally working, can’t believe everyone fell for- “ Alya stops speaking when she notices that Adrien is in front of her and purses her lips.

Adrien stares at Marinette for a moment, narrowing his eyes and shaking his head. “On her own birthday? Marinette, this is so not like you.” He was disgusted by her actions.

“Adrien wait!” She calls out. “I can explain.”

“I don’t know why you did this, or what the hell is wrong with you but this was really low. I’m out of here.” He glares at her before walking away from her.

You were out of control. You cried, you screamed, you threw everything you saw in front of your eyes until you fell on your knees, sobbing.

You couldn’t believe Marinette would do this, you couldn’t believe everyone would do this to you, especially Adrien.

You thought you’ve grown close to the people in your class but you were wrong. They didn’t show up to your birthday party, they lied to you. Your heart was broken.

You held your knees close to your chest as the music lowly played behind you. It was mostly drawn out by your sobs and sniffles.

You hear footsteps approaching you and you look up, with red puffy eyes and see a familiar blond through your blurry vision.

It was Adrien. You look away and sob even harder at the thought of him seeing you like this, with everything destroyed around you. Why did he come here? Did he want to taunt you further?

He kneels down next to you and rubs your shoulder, moving you to his chest and causing you to nuzzle your face there.

“I hate this. I hate today, I hate Marinette.” You mumble. Maybe hate was a strong word, but you didn’t care at that moment.

You look up at him. “Why did you come here Adrien? Do you want to make me feel even more embarrassed than I already am?” You croak out.

He shakes his head. “Please, I swear to you Marinette told me that your birthday party was moved to her place, she told everyone that.” He sighs and shows you his phone so you could see the message Marinette sent him.

“Fucking bitch!” You exclaim and hide your face in your hands again.

“Hey, hey. I got here as soon as I found out she was lying. All I wanted was to celebrate your birthday and make you happy” He says quietly. “I’m so fucking sorry that this happened.” He says and rests his head against yours in a comforting manner.

You look up at him and wipe your eyes, sniffling. “Well, there’s nothing I can do now. It’s ruined.” You mumble and sigh. “I thought Marinette was my friend you know?” You mutter.

“I know.” Adrien nods and looks down. He stares at the card in his hand and bites his lip, his heart racing at the thought of giving this to you. “Maybe this will make you feel better.” He says, a small smile twitching on his lips as he hands you the envelope.

You widen your eyes and look up at him as if hesitant to open it. You open it though and you begin to read it.

Ever since the first time I saw you, you absolutely took my breath away. Ever since the day I first saw you, I thought to myself that I have to get to know you better. I did. And that may have been one of the best decisions of my life. You have a beautiful mind, a beautiful soul and a beautiful heart. To be honest, I think I keep falling for you every day. Happy birthday Ma belle, i hope you have the best one yet.

Love, Adrien.

Tears start rolling down your cheeks again, but this time it was because of his sweet words. Your heart finally felt whole.

You look up at him with glistening eyes and give him a wobbly smile.

He smiles sheepishly at you. “Will you go on a date with me?” He asks.

You didn’t even answer, you just leaned in and placed your lips on his.

It was small, but you felt fireworks burst inside of you.

You pull away and watch him flutter his eyes at you, his cheeks glowing red.

“Does that answer your question?” You ask.

He chuckles and kisses you again.

Maybe your birthday wasn’t so bad after all.

#adrien agreste #adrien agreste x reader #chat noir #chat noir x reader #mlb #miraculous ladybug

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deniigi · 3 years ago

Text

Lando The Nosy Neighbor AU

Title: good fences make good neighbors

Summary: Modern AU based off the premise presented to me as ‘Han and Leia move into the same neighborhood and start a feud, only to eventually overthrow the local Homeowner’s Association.’

Relationships: Pot-farmer!Han/Lawyer!Leia; Farmboy!Luke/Survivalist!Din; Lando & Breha Organa & Chewbacca

This is based off a rural community in Washington which has local cults.

Lando POV

---------------

A hippy has moved in next to the Organas.

It’s a good one, too. This one hasn’t even rented a moving truck, they’ve just come on over with all their furniture tetris-ed in on top of itself and wrapped tight with rope, blankets, and prayer.

Lando’s petunias screech for watering as the hippy throws open the truck’s door and comes staggering out, cracking his lanky back. Out of the other side comes an even hairier, even lankier person. He closes the truck door and looks right at Lando.

He stares.

It is a challenge. But of course, not one that Lando is not prepared to handle.

He points at his watering can.

Hippy Two seems to scoff.

Lando waits until he’s distracted by the first hippie struggling with the blue house’s doorknob to dump the remaining water into the pebbles under his ornamental bridge.

He returns inside and goes about his busy business, tying back the curtains.

It is always good to have someone new in the neighborhood.

It takes the hippy couple a few weeks to get settled into their new home, and in that time neither has ingratiated themselves to Lando.

The stupid one with the floppy hair caught onto Lando’s tricks at the weekly poker match held in the local bar. Lando may have lost his irrigation system, but he has not lost his dignity. It was old anyways. He’s been planning to replace it for nearly a year now. There is never a better time than the present to start making your dreams into reality.

And anyways, the floppy haired out-of-towner will get what is coming to him. Lando has already sown the seed of his demise.

Leia Organa returned home to look after her poor, sick, stubborn mother just two months ago. Breha is fine, of course, not even cancer could snuff out her fires, although she is bored of her husband and daughter trying to trap her indoors. Her immunocompromised escapades have been delightful to watch.

The Organas are always a lively group. There is never a dull moment or lack of machinations among them—especially the lady of the household. She, like Lando, appreciates a good tussle. Which is why he has pointed out to Leia that her new neighbors’ greenhouse is mighty interesting, is it not?

Lawyer Leia’s ears pricked up like a horse’s, and Breha’s sharp eyes took on new sheen.

Lando watches Leia in the mornings now, struggling to find upper-body strength and purchase on the wood of her backyard fence, among the roses and bougainvillea. She’s so tiny, Leia. Breha is not an overly large person either, and thus is no help in this endeavor to collect data on the greenhouse of questionable origins and purposes on the other side of the fence. Leia doesn’t need her, though. She needs no one. She’s seen what she needs to.

Lando pours tea from a glass pot given to him by someone in his company who wishes for their secrets to remain so and beautiful, clear amber liquid fills his cup.

He looks up to see Leia holding her phone out as far as she can without relinquishing her grip on the fence. She fumbles, trying one-handedly to document the crime before her, but alas. Even the mighty sometimes trip on the red carpet.

The phone slips. She grabs after it in slow-motion, horror filling every pore of her face.

It is gone now, that phone.

The Public Nuisances will know what she has been up to.

Lando sighs and leans back in his seat.

It is no time at all before the dropped phone is returned graciously over the white, waist-height fence that separates the Public Nuisance’s yard from the Organas’. Leia snatches her phone back and wipes it off with her hand and sleeve. The shorter public enemy, Han, he calls himself, smiles at her cheekily. He retracts his hand and gestures to the taller fence, barely visible for the fruit trees and vines, between their backyards and says something that makes Leia go very, very still.

It is, undoubtedly, a challenge. Not unlike the one that that the more polite public nuisance, Chewie, opened his and Lando’s relationship with.

Chewie has explained without mincing his words, that he and Han have come here because their last venture was lost in a snowstorm. Chewie will be damned if his precious seedlings are so callously frosted over again. The Pacific Northwest has no chance of freezing over, he says. It provides a better setting to grow stock.

Weed, he means. Marijuana. Chewie is again, not shy. He and Han make good money supplying dispensaries with their organic, hand dried leaves. It is apparently ‘artisan’ like in quality.

Lando isn’t sure he’d go that far, but yes, it is nice stuff. And yes, Leia, bastion of justice, does need to see the men’s permits.

Lando opens the window for a breeze and catches Han telling Leia that he’ll produce them if she arm wrestles him for the right to witness their authenticity. Leia agrees. Han fetches a small worktable from the house’s garage and sets it between them.

The match is over within seconds. Leia has never been so insulted in her life. She demands a rematch and, out of sheer indulgence, Han gives it to her.

He is nearly a foot taller than her. He could lift her up and over her own fence with ease if he so desired. He wins the next round. And the next one. He loses the last one by reason of having his leg deadened under the table but stands abruptly to renegade on his earlier promise.

“You watch yourself, princess,” he calls over his shoulder with his hand on his front door’s knob.

“Oh, I’ll be watching,” Leia snarls back.

Han slams the door. Chewie looks from him to Leia standing fuming in the shade of her family’s pine trees.

“Unbelievable,” she snaps at him before stomping off herself. “UNBELIEVABLE.”

Lando flicks his eyes up to see Breha’s dining room window wide open. She too, has a cup of tea. She lifts it his way and he lifts his back.

Finally, some quality entertainment once more.

Han and Leia’s hatred has become neighborhood gossip. They have begun going to extraordinary lengths to gain the others’ attention. For example, Han, in weeding his sparce flowerbeds, was careful to shove the fruits of his labor between the fence slats into Bail’s well-tended herb garden. Bail, ever the gentleman, does not mind, but of course Leia feels that her family honor has been spat upon. She collects the weeds and returns them to her owner, via mailbox. It is kind of her to put the flag down, so Han knows that he’s received a message.

The retaliation is a mural in rainbow colors commissioned by Han and painted by one of the budding young teenagers from a school about a thirty minute drive downtown. It is...psychedelic. And facing Leia’s bedroom window.

Han asked the youth who painted it to add in a figure in the center of the composition; it is a brown-haired woman dressed all in white, surrounded by thorny vines, and attempting to climb a fence. The young artist must have felt like Michelangelo in the application of those delicate strokes of artistry. They knew they were creating something holy.

Han helps that along by bracketing the figure with solar lanterns that light up at night and keep the image fully illuminated.

When Lando arrives to Breha’s side to go on a walk, arm in arm, with her and her beast of a terrier, she giggles like a schoolgirl behind her hand.

“Han is very handsome,” she tells Lando.

“He’s alright,” Lando says.

“I think he and Leia are a perfect match. Will for will. No one’s ever dared to cross her like this.”

Now that is a fact.

“I wonder if this is the start of something more,” Breha says.

“What does your husband think?” Lando asks.

Breha waves him off dismissively.

“Oh, you know. He’s convinced that Leia will kill Han in his sleep, and we will be forced to post bail, but I told him—as I’ve told you, Lando—Leia’s too smart to get caught committing axe murder. Now poisoning, that’s a different story.”

Lando wakes up and makes coffee. He turns on his computer and opens his curtains to let the light pour in and warm his hardwood floors. He stands at the window, hiding a smirk behind his mug.

Leia has had enough. She has called the Home Owner’s Association and they are standing at Han’s front doorstep.

It is about three weeks before Han and Leia have overthrown the Home Owner’s Association for interfering in their escalating romance—ahem—bloodfeud. By then, Lando’s work-from-home situation is suffering. It is impossible to focus with those two cluttering up his view with distractions left and right. He determines that, for the sake of his finances, he must direct his attention to something a little further afield.

The Lars’s vegetable stand is becoming something of an institution.

It’s about a mile or so out of Lando’s way, tucked smack in the middle of the battlefield that is the stretch of land between the survivalist cult that lives in the forest and the pseudo-Buddhists that live in their compound. The farm itself is a few acres and the Lars’s son can be seen walking around, herding livestock out of the road and into pastures.

Lando has heard whispers that this son is none other than Leia’s twin brother, but no one has the nerve to directly ask the Organas about the truth of such a scandalous idea. The most that can be said about Luke Lars-Skywalker is that he is a master of social media.

He has created a Youtube channel and an Instagram to document the practices of his family’s farm and the products they produce. He is in a twitter-war with many communities online for his videos on small-scale bee-keeping, and his family’s stand is proudly boycotted by the vegan association in the city on farmer’s market days.

It has become well-known among the farm-to-table restaurants in the city, though, and that is why Luke keeps on keeping on with his cows and his fowls and his silly camera holder.

But all that means little because Luke Lars-Skywalker is in love.

Anyone with eyes can see it.

He is in love with an ancestral enemy.

See, in this area there are not one, but two cults and naturally, they abhor and reject the others’ teachings. To the south are the pseudo-buddhist, clairvoyants who have fashioned themselves more or less as monks preoccupied with meditation, self-development, and a few fairly mystical beliefs among the rather terrifying devotion to martial arts. To the north are the survivalist whack-jobs who don’t believe in electricity or running water, but who are also, somehow, preoccupied with self development and a terrifying devotion to martial arts.

Both groups have publicly denounced the other as misguided extremists.

The rumors say that Luke and Leia’s biological father is one of the clairvoyants, and this is where the heart of the current delightful irony lays.

Luke Lars-Skywalker is in love with one of those survivalists.

Lando knows this because he has seen it with his very own eyes.

He took a trip a while back to purchase some greens from the vegetable stand and he was there for a little while, picking through the selection, when he looked up and saw Luke’s posture explode out of its lax boredom. Lando looked over his shoulder to see what Luke’s tan, freckled attention had latched onto and lo and behold.

It was a man. And not only a man, a man with a baby.

Luke stuffed knuckles into his mouth to keep from cooing as the father of the child nodded at him and meandered over to have a poke through the produce piled up on the stand. The baby, dressed carefully in layers of warm, water-resistant clothing, watched Luke right back. He smiled and grunted, waving his dark, stubby arms and Luke melted—literally collapsed into a fraction of his size behind the paystation.

The father, a white rugged guy with dark curly hair and a great deal of stubble, shifted the baby to his other arm. His worn, heavy clothing and the military-style canvas sack on his back marked him as one of the Cabin-In-the-Woods people.

Lando felt like he was watching a country romance flick in real life.

Luke gathered his courage and approached the dad and baby to ask if they were looking for anything in particular. The baby immediately held hands out to him. Luke asked the father if he could hold the little one. The father said ‘no.’

Lando nearly choked on his own spit.

“Oh, sorry buddy,” Luke said to the baby. “Daddy thinks I’m gonna eat you up.”

“He just got a bath.”

Luke gooey expression hardened in an instant.

“Excuse you. You sayin’ I’m dirty?” he asked. “You sayin’ I smell like horseshit?”

The father stared at Luke wordlessly.

“Pigshit,” he corrected.

“WHAT.”

Lando no longer needed only greens. He had to pick a cheese from this bountiful pile. Oh dear, so many to choose from.

“I said, you smell like pigshit. And he just got a bath,” the survivalist father said. “How much for the tomatoes?”

“Twenty a pound,” Luke said viciously.

“That’s steep.”

“There’s a discount for people who smell like pigshit.”

“You get a lot of those?”

“No, but I know how to wallow in the time between buyers.”

“Are you angry or something?”

“Take your damn tomatoes.”

“I didn’t pay yet—”

“Just take ‘em. Go. Go.”

“Twenty—?”

“Hey, Mr. Calrissian, that’ll be ten-fifty,” Luke said over the protests.

That was then. This is now. And Luke Lars-Skywalker has not let up on his tirade against this survivalist. Nor, it is important to note however, has the survivalist stopped coming to the vegetable stand when Luke is working it.

What is even more is that Lando can see with his own two eyes that the survivalist is not holding his baby at the vegetable stand now, as Lando closes his car door a little ways from the stand. Luke smiles at Lando as he draws near; he is bouncing at the knees. He waves the baby’s hand in greeting and the child gurgles and twists back to grab at his face.

Lando smiles and does not say anything.

He finds Chewie inspecting a sprinkler at the edge of his and Han’s yard on the way back and crosses the street to inspect it with him. It sputters. Chewie suspects outloud that their squirrels are getting stronger and more destructive by the day.

Lando asks him if he’s been the Lars’s vegetable stand since moving into town.

He has.

Lando asks if he’s ever seen Luke there, holding a baby.

He has.

Lando is smug.

“Mr. Rugged Mountain Man is falling for the farm boy,” he tells Chewie.

Chewie lifts a thick eyebrow.

“One day soon, that baby is going to go from living off the grid to living in a barn,” Lando tells him. “Mark my words.”

Chewie tells him that that is impossible without a kidnapping charge because the Rugged Mountain Man is the straightest man that he’s ever seen. Lando tells him not to judge a book by its cover.

Weirder things have happened. Han and Leia, for example.

Chewie tells him that he knows that Lando is somehow responsible for those two’s newly inescapable sexual tension and he will never forgive him for it.

Lando cannot believe his ears. Him? An instigator? Of course not, Chewie. He is but a humble spider, waiting around in his house for a fly to shake things up. He is an observer, nothing more, nothing less.

Chewie just points a finger at him.

Lando points a finger-gun back. He fires it with a click of his tongue.

#star wars #han/leia #dinluke #lando calrissian #fic #ficlet #don't mind me I'm just thinking about petty neighborhood politics

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fatliberation · 4 years ago

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I’m Abandoning Body Positivity and Here’s Why

In short: it’s fatphobic.

“A rallying cry for a shift in societal norms has now become the skinny girl’s reassurance that she isn’t really fat. Fatness, through this lens of ‘body positivity’, remains the worst thing a person can be.” (Kayleigh Donaldson)

• • •

I have always had a lot of conflicting opinions about the body positivity movement, but it’s much more widely known (and accepted, go figure) than the fat liberation movement, so I often used the two terms interchangeably in conversation about anti-fatness. But the longer I’ve been following the body positivity movement, the more I’ve realized how much it has strayed from its fat lib origins. It has been hijacked; deluded to center thin, able, white, socially acceptable bodies.

Bopo’s origins are undoubtedly grounded in fat liberation. The fat activists of the 1960s paved the way for the shred of size acceptance we see in media today, initially protesting the discrimination and lack of access to equal opportunities for fat people specifically. This early movement highlighted the abuse, mental health struggles, malpractice in the medical field, and called for equal pay, equal access, equal respect, an end to fatphobic structures and ideas. It saddens me that it hasn’t made much progress in those regards.

Today, the #bopo movement encapsulates more the idea of loving your own body versus ensuring that individuals regardless of their weight and appearance are given equal opportunities in the workplace, schools, fashion and media. Somehow those demands never made it outside of the ‘taboo’ category, and privileged people would much more readily accept the warm and fuzzy, sugar-coated message of “love yourself!” But as @yrfatfriend once said, this idea reduces fat people’s struggles to a problem of mindset, rather than a product of external oppressors that need to be abolished in order for fat people to live freely.

That generalized statement, “love yourself,” is how a movement started by fat people for the rights of fat people was diluted so much, it now serves a thin model on Instagram posting about how she has a tummy roll and cellulite on her thighs - then getting praised for loving her body despite *gasp!* its minor resemblance to a fat body.

Look. Pretty much everyone has insecurities about their bodies, especially those of us who belong to marginalized groups. If you don’t have body issues, you’re a privileged miracle, but our beauty-obsessed society has conditioned us to want to look a certain way, and if we have any features that the western beauty standard considers as “flaws,” yeah! We feel bad about it! So it’s not surprising that people who feel bad about themselves would want to hop on a movement that says ‘hey, you’re beautiful as you are!’ That’s a message everyone would like to hear. Any person who has once thought of themselves as less than beautiful now feels that this movement is theirs. And everyone has insecurities, so everyone feels entitled to the safe space. And when a space made for a minority includes the majority, the cycle happens again and the majority oppresses the minority. What I’m trying to explain here is that thin people now feel a sense of ownership over body positive spaces.

Regardless of how badly thin people feel about their bodies, they still experience thin privilege. They can sit down in a theater or an airplane without even thinking about it, they can eat in front of others without judgement, they can go the doctor with a problem and actually have it fixed right away, they can find cute clothes in their size with ease, they do not suffer from assumptions of laziness/failure based on stereotype, they see their body type represented everywhere in media, the list goes on and on. They do not face discrimination based off of the size of their body.

Yet diet culture and fatphobia affects everyone, and of course thin people do still feel bad about the little fat they have on their bodies. But the failure to examine WHY they feel bad about it, is what perpetuates fatphobia within the bopo movement. They’re labeled “brave” for showing a pinch of chub, yet fail to address what makes it so acceptably daring, and how damaging it is to people who are shamed for living in fat bodies. Much like the rest of society, thin body positivity is still driven by the fear of fat, and does nothing to dismantle fatphobia within structures or within themselves.

Evette Dionne sums it up perfectly in her article, “The Fragility of Body Positivity: How a Radical Movement Lost Its Way.”

“The body-positive media economy centers these affirming, empowering, let-me-pinch-a-fat-roll-to-show-how-much-I-love-myself stories while failing to actually challenge institutions to stop discriminating against fat people. More importantly, most of those stories center thin, white, cisgender, heterosexual women who have co-opted the movement to build their brands. Rutter has labeled this erasure ‘Socially Acceptable Body Positivity.’

“On social media, it actually gets worse for fat bodies: We’re not just being erased from body positivity, fat women are being actively vilified. Health has become the stick with which to beat fat people with [sic], and the benchmark for whether body positivity should include someone” (Dionne).

Ah, yes. The medicalization of fat bodies, and the moralization of health. I’ve ranted about this before. Countless comments on posts of big women that say stuff like “I’m all for body positivity, but this is just unhealthy and it shouldn’t be celebrated.” I’ve heard writer/activist Aubrey Gordon once say that body positivity has become something like a shield for anti-fatness. It’s anti-fatness that has been repackaged as empowerment. It’s a striking double-standard. Fat people are told to be comfortable in their bodies (as if that’s what’s going to fix things) but in turn are punished when they’re okay with being fat. Make it make sense.

Since thin people feel a sense of ownership over body positive spaces, and they get to hide behind “health” when they are picking and choosing who can and cannot be body positive, they base it off of who looks the most socially acceptable. And I’m sure they aren’t consciously picking and choosing, it comes from implicit bias. But the socially acceptable bodies they center are small to medium fat, with an hourglass shape. They have shaped a new beauty standard specifically FOR FAT PEOPLE. (Have you ever seen a plus sized model with neck fat?? I’m genuinely asking because I have yet to find one!) The bopo movement works to exclude and silence people who are on the largest end of the weight spectrum.

Speaking of exclusion, let’s talk about fashion for a minute.

For some reason, (COUGH COUGH CAPITALISM) body positivity is largely centered around fashion. And surprise surprise, it’s still not inclusive to fat people. Fashion companies get a pat on the back for expanding their sizing two sizes up from what they previously offered, when they are still leaving out larger fat people completely. In general, clothing companies charge more for clothes with more fabric, so people who need the largest sizes are left high and dry. It’s next to impossible to find affordable clothes that also look nice. Fashion piggybacks on the bopo movement as a marketing tactic, and exploits the very bodies it claims to be serving. (Need I mention the time Urban Outfitters used a "curvy” model to sell a size it doesn’t even carry?)

The movement also works to exclude and silence fat Black activists.

In her article, “The Body Positivity Movement Both Takes From and Erases Fat Black Women” Donyae Coles explains how both white people and thin celebrities such as Jameela Jamil profit from the movement that Black women built.

“Since long before blogging was a thing, fat Black women have been vocal about body acceptance, with women like Sharon Quinn and Marie Denee, or the work of Sonya Renee Taylor with The Body Is Not An Apology. We’ve been out here, and we’re still here, but the overwhelming face of the movement is white and thin because the mainstream still craves it, and white and thin people have no problem with profiting off the work of fat, non-white bodies.”

“There is a persistent belief that when thin and/or white people enter the body positive realm and begin to repeat the messages that Black women have been saying for years in some cases, when they imitate the labor that Black women have already put in that we should be thankful that they are “boosting” our message. This completely ignores the fact that in doing so they are profiting off of that labor. They are gaining the notoriety, the mark of an expert in something they learned from an ignored Black woman” (Coles).

My next essay will go into detail about this and illuminate key figures who paved the way for body acceptance in communities of color.

The true purpose of this movement has gotten completely lost. So where the fuck do we go from here?

We break up with it, and run back to the faithful ex our parents disapproved of. We go back to the roots of the fat liberation movement, carved out for us by the fat feminists, the queer fat activists, the fat Black community, and the allies it began with. Everything they have preached since the 1960s and 70s is one hundred percent applicable today. We get educated. We examine diet culture through a capitalist lens. We tackle thin, white-supremacist systems and weight based discrimination, as well as internalized bias. We challenge our healthcare workers to unlearn their bias, treat, and support fat patients accordingly. We make our homes and spaces accessible and welcoming to people of any size, or any (dis)ability. “We must first protect and uplift people in marginalized bodies, only then can we mandate self-love” (Gordon).

Think about it. In the face of discrimination, mistreatment, and emotional abuse, we as a society are telling fat people to love their bodies, when we should be putting our energy toward removing those fatphobic ideas and structures so that fat people can live in a world that doesn’t require them to feel bad about their bodies. It’s like hitting someone with a rock and telling them not to bruise!

While learning to love and care for the body that you’re in is important, I think that body positivity also fails in teaching that because it puts even more emphasis on beauty. Instead of saying, “you don’t have to be ‘beautiful’ to be loved and appreciated,” its main lesson is that “all bodies are beautiful.” We live in a society obsessed with appearance, and it is irresponsible to ignore the hierarchy of beauty standards that exist in every space. Although it should be relative, “beautiful” has been given a meaning. And that meaning is thin, abled, symmetric, and eurocentric.

Beauty and ugliness are irrelevant, made-up constructs. People will always be drawn to you no matter what, so you deserve to exist in your body without struggling to conform to an impossible and bigoted standard. Love and accept your body for YOURSELF AND NO ONE ELSE, because you do not exist to please the eyes of other people. That’s what I wish we were teaching instead. Radical self acceptance!

As of today, the ultimate message of the body positivity movement is: Love your body “despite its imperfections.” Or people with “perfect and imperfect bodies both deserve love.” As long as we are upholding the notion that there IS a perfect body that looks a certain way, and every body that falls outside of that category is imperfect, we are upholding white supremacy, eugenics, anti-fatness, and ableism.

#body positivity #bopo #body posi #body positive #body acceptance #fat acceptance #fat activism #fat liberation #anti fatness #anti blackness #anti fat bias #lookism #beauty standards #self acceptance

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keanureevesisbae · 3 years ago

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Dusk till Dawn - Chapter 4

Summary: Peter gets himself in trouble and a mysterious figure helps him out.

Peter Parker x Jordan Wilson (asian ofc)

Warnings: None

Wordcount: 1.3k

Masterlist // Dusk till Dawn Masterlist //

‘What?’ Peter asks, as he’s standing in mister Stark’s office. ‘There’s a what now?’

‘An unknown threat,’ mister Stark clarifies as he sits behind his desk, working on some important stuff, meaning he does not spare Peter one single look, ‘and because I don’t have anyone else to fix it, you need to.’

That wasn’t quite the job Peter was hoping for, especially because it is evident he is the left over crap in the superhero pool mister Stark can choose from. However, he swallows his pride and continues to ask about his task. ‘So, tell me, what do I need to do?’

‘Discover their patterns, how they move, how they travel and report back to me.’

‘What about you?’

Mister Stark looks up from his paperwork. ‘I’ve got other things to do, Peter.’

While mister Stark had his own way of communicating and Peter was well aware of that, he had a feeling something was bothering mister Stark. However, Peter knew better than to ask about what it exactly was that bothered his boss.

‘I’ll try my hardest, sir. No, better than my best.’

Mister Stark cocked an eyebrow. ‘Get out of here.’

After a not so successful conversation with mister Stark and a very thin and lousy assignment, given to the only remaining sorta superhero mister Stark did not despise, Peter is now making his way home.

He looks at his phone, to see his new wallpaper and a smile appears on his face, an instant endorphin boost given. Today at lunch, Ned not so subtly forced them to sit next to each other and even shoved his phone in their face, saying: ‘Come on, lemme take a picture of you.’

Peter stares at the wallpaper of his phone, his own face graced with a shy smile, while Jordan looks effortlessly beautiful: her long wavy hair framing her face, a gentle smile toying on her lips and her eyes so bright and gorgeous. The white turtle neck and the pink checkered dress she wore over it, really highlights all of her features.

After some—once again not so subtle—pressing of Ned, he somehow got them both to change their wallpaper and now Peter and Jordan are the proud owners of a new background.

To say he is falling in love with her is an understatement. His entire day is instantly better when she walks up to him, looking like a million bucks every single day. He has never seen her slack in her outfits, always managing to look breathtakingly pretty.

By the time he’s at his own place, he hides in his own room and sees he has a message from Jordan.

Jordan: Ned has been pestering me about posting our picture on Instagram

Jordan: So I told him I’d do it

Jordan: However

Jordan: I have a slight problem

Before Peter answers, he takes one more look at her profile picture, a simple picture of her feeding a duck near the pond not far from the school. Her eyes glimmer and she appears so happy, it instantly makes Peter happy.

Peter: How can I help out?

Jordan: By explaining to me what Instagram is…

Peter knew she had this tendency to be slightly otherworldly, but asking him what Instagram is? That’s even extreme for her. Nonetheless, he still decides to answer her.

Peter: It’s social media

Peter: So you can post pictures of yourself and people can like it

Peter: Or as Ned wants you to do:

Peter: Post pictures of us together

Jordan: I am so confused

Jordan: Why would you do that?

Peter: For boosting your self esteem, I guess

Jordan: You know I’m even more confused now?

Peter: I am well aware

Then, an alert on his phone starts beeping and he realizes this is the threat mister Stark had been talking about. Because he does not want to seem awfully rude, he quickly sends a message to Jordan.

Peter: I’ve got to help out my aunt

Peter: Talk to you later, Jordan

He does not wait for her to answer. Instead, in lightening speed he changes out of his regular clothes into his Spiderman gear and jumps out of the window. It had been quite awhile since he had done this. Normally, he’d do it a lot after school, but with Jordan enrolling in his class, he sorta forgot about it.

But now he had to focus. So, no Jordan on his mind, only the possible threat. He has to make mister Stark proud.

The threat appeared to be some sort of duo who are currently taking in the city, using certain equipment. Peter can’t quite tell what it does exactly, but he follows them over the city, making mental notes of what mister Stark wanted him to find out.

Discover their patterns, how they move, how they travel and report back to me. Copy that, mister Stark.

Working in a duo. Check.

Wearing either a dress suit or a very long night gown. Check.

Having a very interesting looking device in their hands as they scan the city. Check.

Peter cannot discover what they want. They move through the air, almost like they’re floating. The dress suit and night gown are also confusing to him. It looks too sophisticated to be a supervillain.

But then they see him, the device landing on him.

‘Hi there,’ he says, hoping politeness will help him in the long run.

That does not work.

The forceful jolt of electricity is launched from the device and it hits him right on the torso.

He lands on his back on a rooftop and has to catch his breath. Oh shit, that hurt like hell. He sure hopes that is not caught on film. Mister Stark will hate him for it.

Both apparitions are now flying ahead of him. He still thinks they look too chic, but after the way they seemed to launch him without doing anything, he pushes aside all prejudices and realizes he needs to get the hell out of here, before he is on the receiving end of yet another jolt of electricity.

But the combination of the crazy pain in his back and the aftermath of that much electricity, causes him to be a little dizzy.

Mister Stark must be so disappointed in him.

Dress Suit and Nightgown are all of the sudden kicked aside with a brutal force, causing them to twist and turn through the air. That brutal force was accompanied by some electrical power, almost like it was the same one that kicked Peter down.

The two are both visibly shocked (or embarrassed, which Peter can imagine) and disappear into a portal, almost like they were never here.

Was this all a fever dream?

And then he takes a good look of the person who just saved his sorry ass. It’s the same one who fought on Captain America’s team awhile back at the airport. The one who broke mister Stark’s arm. The only one who got away and wasn’t arrested like the rest.

The one’s whose identity had remained hidden.

They weren’t tall and the suit hid whether or not they were a man or a woman.

Peter blankly stares at them and he can only assume they are staring back at him, but the mask totally covers their entire face, therefore their eyes too.

Much like his suit.

‘Thanks,’ Peter manages to choke out.

The lining around what could be considered the eyes in that suit light up, like that is their way of communicating. They walk up to him and stop around a foot before him. They hold out their hand and Peter takes it. A firm handshake and a nod has to suffice from their side.

And with only that, they’re gone and Peter has to report back to mister Stark.

♦︎ ♦︎ ♦︎

Dusk till Dawn taglist: @diegos-butt // @beenthroughalot // @abschaffer2 // @kneelforloki

#dusk till dawn #tom holland fanfic #tom holland #tom holland fanfiction #peter parker #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker fanfic #peter parker x ofc #peter parker x oc #peter parker x asian ofc #asian ofc #peter parker x jordan wilson #jordan wilson

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falcqns · 4 years ago

Text

To Be So Lonely

Pairing: Henry Cavill x Reader, Sebastian Stan x Reader

Summary: Henry has a crush on you, but you’re dating someone else, and he broods about it. he confronts you about it and ruins his career.

Warnings: swearing, threats, henry is a mega asshole in this and ruins his career, dont know where this idea came from lol

A/N: Bratty!Henry makes a comeback as requested! Hope you enjoy!

Don't blame me for falling

I was just a little boy

Don't blame the drunk calling

Wasn't ready for it all

Henry had been a fan of yours for a while. You had appeared in a few movies and TV shows, and he watched them almost religiously. You hadn’t been acting as long as him, but he firmly believed that you were way better at it than him, He had auditioned for a few of the same projects as you, but he never got the role, for one reason or another. He very vividly remembers watching the Mockingbird movie that you were in, and the feelings of jealousy he got as he watched you kiss your co star, Sebastian Stan. He almost wanted to hate Sebastian, but he had done nothing to him, so he couldn’t. Other than kiss the girl that Henry wanted for himself.

Then, one day, Anya and Freya busted into his trailer with huge smiles on their faces.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, petting Kal, and smirking at his friends. They locked eyes with each other and giggled before Freya told him what was going on.

“Y/N got a part on the show!” She squealed, and Henry felt warmth blossom in his chest in hope.

��Shut up. You’re joking!” He said, standing up, a huge smile spreading on his face. “When does she start?”

“Tomorrow!” Anya squealed, and Henry’s smile grew even bigger. He couldn’t wait.

You can't blame me, darling

Not even a little bit

I was away

And I'm just an arrogant son of a bitch

Who can't admit when he's sorry

Henry was practically shaking with excitement when he woke up the next morning. He wanted nothing more than to rush to set to meet you, but he needed to go for a run, eat, and get himself and Kal ready before he could do that.

40 minutes later, he was ready and was practically speeding to set with Kal in the passenger seat of his car. Kal had his head out the window, his mouth open, biting at the wind. Henry glanced over at him and chuckled. His stomach was feeling the same way.

He arrived moments later, and looked around the parking lot for your vehicle. He didn’t know what type of car your drive, but he noticed a black Dodge Ram 1500 that he hadn’t seen before today, so he had to assume that was yours. His eyes were darting everywhere, looking for you, while walking to his trailer. He dropped Kal off in his trailer, and filled up his food and water bowl before he left for the makeup trailer.

He walked out of his trailer, and that’s when he saw you. You were standing outside your trailer, which was opposite of his. Your hair and makeup was done, and you were talking on the phone. Suddenly, he was feeling very nervous, as you hung up the phone and your eyes landed on him. You waved at him, and the butterflies in his stomach grew as he walked over to meet you.

“Hi!” You said.

“Hi! I’ve been wanting to meet you for so long,” HEnry said as he gazed into your E/C eyes. You blushed and he opened his arms for a hug, which you willingly gave.

“Me too!” You said, and the two of you continued talking until your phone rang again. Henry glanced down briefly and his heart dropped into his stomach at what he saw. It was a picture of you and Sebastian kissing, and there was a heart next to Seb’s name.

“Sorry, that’s my boyfriend, but I’ll talk to you on set, okay?” You said, and Henry nodded with a smile, an attempt to cover what he was truly feeling.

“Of course.” You nodded, and walked away with the phone held up to your ear.

“Hey, baby...” You said into the phone, not noticing how Henry turned his back, and walked towards his trailer.

Don't call me baby again

You got your reasons

I know that you're tryna be friends

I know you mean it

Don't call me baby again

It's hard for me to go home

Be so lonely

Henry managed to hide the hurt he was feeling for a few days, but Anya and Freya first noticed something was wrong when Henry walked away from the three of you while you were telling them how Sebastian was trying to impress you once, and ended up falling down his trailer steps. Henry had made it to his trailer before breaking down. Kal bounded over to him, and pressed his body against his legs. Henry sunk to the floor, and let Kal rest his head on his shoulder. He let out a whine at Henry’s crying, and henry calmed down. He didn’t want to upset the one thing that makes him insanely happy. It was you, but you were taken. he couldn’t think about you liked that anymore, no matter how much he wanted to.

Anya came into his trailer a few minutes later, and sat next to him, her hand resting on his arm.

“What’s wrong?” She asked, and Henry lifted his head to look at Anya. “I like her. So much. But, she’s out there dating that asshole.”

Anya let out a laugh, and Henry looked at her in confusion. “What?”

“Sebastian isn’t an asshole. Just because he got her before you did, you’re going to make him look like the bad guy in this situation? First of all, there is no bad guy in the situation. She’s happy with him. He’s happy with her. If you’d sit and listen to the way she talks about him, you’d understand that. He has done things for her that I’ve never heard of anyone doing for their significant others, especially those who dont care about said significant others. When they were filming together, she really missed her best friend, so he flew her out for her birthday, and paid for them to spend the weekend at Disney World together. He’s a really nice guy, but you’re going to sit here and brood simply because he met her first. Dont blame him, and dont you dare blame her.” Anya said, before giving Kal a pet, and walking out of the trailer.

Henry glared at the wall opposite him for a few minutes, before pulling his phone out and going to instagram. He looked at his notifications, and scoffed in annoyance when he saw that Sebastian followed him. Without thinking, he clicked on the three dots, and blocked him.

You might be taken, but that didn’t mean he didn’t have to be okay with it. He stood up, wiped his eyes, and headed back to set. He made a point to keep his eyes glued to his phone so he didn’t have to talk to you.

He shouldn’t be blaming you for this, but the jealous side of him told him to, since he couldn’t blame Sebastian.

I just hope you see me in a little better light

Do you think it's easy being of the jealous kind?

'Cause I miss the shape of your lips

You'll win, it's just a trick

And this is it, so I'm sorry

You noticed Henry’s demeanour towards you go down over the course of your first week, and you were scouring your brain to figure out why while on FaceTime with Sebastian.

“I don’t know what I did to him. He barely speaks to me, he refuses to be alone with me, and if I even mention something about Marvel or our movie, he scoffs, and makes snide little remarks. He seemed like such a nice a person, and i dont know what happened.” You explained to Sebastian, while playing with your fingers.

“I don’t know, either love. I did notice that he blocked me though. I tried to follow him earlier in the week, and now I can’t even find his account, so I think he blocked me. I don’t think it has anything to do with you,” He said, giving you a sincere smile, that was full of love. You smiled at the sight of his steel blue eyes.

“Why would he hate you though? You’ve never met, and I thought he was a Marvel fan. Anya told me he was, and that he went to see Mockingbird in theatres. It doesn’t make sense.” You said. You watched as something washed over Sebastians face, and he ran his fingers through his hair.

“He might like you. I never even thought about that. He’s friends with Chris, I’ll find out for sure,” Seb said, picking up his phone and typing out a message to Chris.

“You think he like me?” You questioned, and Sebastian nodded. “Yeah, i think he does. I mean, he follows you on all your socials, comments on all your posts, he went and saw a Marvel movie by himself, and I’ve heard from a few people he’s been wanting to work with you for a while, but scheduling always got in the way. To me, its the only logical explanation right now.” He said, and you saw his face fall a little.

You smiled. “Baby, look at me,” His head lifted. “You know, even if this is true, I would never leave you, right?” He nodded.

“I know. It’s just- he’s played Superman. An actual superhero. I play a troubled 100 year old with a metal arm that he got through a debt owed to Steve by T’Challa. He’s played so many more influential roles in his career, and I haven’t even gotten the lead in a ‘superhero’ movie, I’m only a side character. And, I know you had a crush on him at one point. Plus, look at the dude! He looks like a Greek God. I don’t want to lose you.” Sebastian admitted.

You giggled slightly. “Baby, I don’t care about that. I care about you. Did you know that before I started on the Mockingbird set, I was terrified to work with you? I had the biggest crush on you, and I was terrified you wouldn’t like me back, but I was proven wrong instantly, when you came up to me and gave me the biggest hug, and told me if I needed anything, you were there for me. You waited for me on set so you could walk me to my car, even on days where you got to go before I did. You visited me when I was sick, and asked to hang out on our days off. You did that. He didn’t. I love you, not him, dragă.” You said, and he smiled. He locked eyes with you through the screen, and you saw tears welling up in his eyes.

“Te iubesc atat de mult,” He said in Romanian.

“Si eu te iubesc foarte mult.” You responded. “I’ll see you when your plane lands tomorrow, okay? It’s getting pretty late there, and your flights in a few hours.”

You and Seb said good night, and hung up. As you laid in bed a few minutes later, you thought to yourself. “Did Henry really like you, or was that just Seb’s jealousy?” You decided to confront Henry in the morning.

Don't call me baby again

You got your reasons

I know that you're tryna be friends

I know you mean it

Don't call me baby again

It's hard for me to go home

Be so lonely

You arrived at the door of Henry’s trailer less that 12 hours later, and you didn’t bother knocking. The thought of bringing Seb on set when Henry had a problem with him didn’t sit right with you, and you needed to figure out what the fuck was going on.

You walked in, and saw Henry putting food and water in Kal’s bowls. He looked up at you before returning to what he was doing.

“What’s your problem with Sebastian?” You demanded, and to your anger, you got a scoff in return.

“Who says I have a problem with him?” He said, refusing to even look at you. You felt your phone vibrate in your pocket but you ignored it for the moment.

“Seb! You blocked him on Instagram when he followed you. You roll your eyes whenever I talk about him, and get all pissed when he calls me. He’s done NOTHING to you! So what is your problem with him?” You demanded, and he finally turned around to look a you.

“He calls and texts you constantly! He always has to be talking to you. You’re here to do a job, not sit around and text your little boyfriend.” He said, and you laughed.

“Are you fucking kidding me?! I do my job perfectly well, and if you’d open your fucking eyes for two seconds, you’d see that I text him first! I tell him when I’m doing a scene, and when I’m not so he knows he can call me! Being in a long distance relationship is hard, and I’m trying to make it easier on him and I. And you say I’m here to do a job. Right now, I cant think of a SINGLE reason why I even took this job in the first place! Oh wait, I TOOK IT BECAUSE I WANTED TO WORK WITH YOU! Did you know I had an offer from Tom Cruise for The Mummy sequel and I turned it down because I wanted to work with you? I could be in Egypt right now, in shorts and a t shirt with Tom Cruise and Annabelle Wallis, my favourite actress, rather than in dreary fucking England, doing a show with you where you treat me worse than the horse shit that Zeus leaves in his path!” You screamed at him. His face became red, and he retaliated.

“FINE, YOU WANNA KNOW WHY I HATE HIM? BECAUSE HE HAD YOU FIRST! I’VE BEEN TRYING TO WORK WITH YOU FOR YEARS, BECAUSE I HAVE HAD THE BIGGEST CRUSH ON YOU, SINCE YOU APPEARED IN MURDOCH MYSTERIES! I WAS SO EXCITED TO BE ABLE TO WORK WITH YOU, AND I WAS GOING TO ASK YOU OUT, BUT YOU JUST HAD TO GO AND SLEEP WITH THE FIRST A LIST ACTOR YOU COULD GET YOUR HANDS ON WHO PROBABLY DOESN’T GIVE TWO SHITS ABOUT YOU! YOU DON’T WANNA BE HERE? LEAVE! I’M SURE TOM WOULD LOVE TO HAVE YOU! HE PROBABLY WROTE THAT PART SPECIFICALLY FOR YOU, BECAUSE WHY WOUDN’T HE? YOU SEEM TO GET EVERYTHING YOU WANT SO WHY DON’T YOU JUST TAKE IT, AND GET OUT OF ENGLAND BEFORE YOU BREAK MY HEART EVEN MORE!” He screamed.

You blinked back tears, and swallowed the lump in your throat before answering. “You don’t get to hate him because he got me before you did. That’s cruel and wrong. And I didn’t sleep with the ‘first A List celebrity i could get my hands on’. I slept with him because I love him, and he loves me. And you’re right,” You felt the tears spill over, and you did nothing to stop them. “I’m sure Tom will be happy to have me, because I quit. I cannot work with you. You are not the person I thought you were at all.” Your turned to walk out the door.

“And to think that I used to have a crush on you too,” You remarked before letting the trailer door slam.

And I'm just an arrogant son of a bitch

Who can't admit when he's sorry

You ran down the stairs and was immediately embraced by Sebastian, who had just arrived on set when he heard your and Henry’s screaming match.

“It’s okay,” He whispered into your ear, as you started sobbing. At that precise moment, Henry walked out of his trailer and opened his mouth to speak. Sebastian held up his hand before he could.

“I think you’ve done enough damage, Cavill. I’m not going to allow you to hurt her anymore. I can’t believe, that you, out of all people, would treat her like this simply because she’s dating someone else. You may play Superman, but you definitely don’t deserve it.” He remarked, and led out away. But, Henry being Henry, decided to snark back.

“You’re one to talk. You play a 106 year old Hydra assassin who somehow managed to convince everyone around him that his a good guy. You’re no worse than I am buddy.”

“Go to your trailer, I’ll see you in a second.” You nodded and headed in. While he dealt with Henry, you called Tom to let him know you could take the role after all.

“I don’t know why you think that you can treat my girlfriend like that, but it’s not okay. You should have seen the amount of research she did for this role! She read every single book, and played every single game in preparation for this role. She was so excited, and turned down the chance to work with her favourite actress to work with you. Not many people would do that. I also dont know what I did to warrant you absolutely hating my guts, other than dating her. I’ve done nothing to you, and even if I did, that doesn’t mean you can treat my girlfriend like shit for it. I’d watch your fucking back, because unlike you, she’s a Marvel actor. The majority of her friends are Marvel too, so don’t be surprised if you get a few nasty messages from certain Avengers, because I will not withhold this information.”

Sebastian walked in to your trailer and found you on the phone to Lauren, apologizing. You hung up a few seconds later and turned to Sebastian.

“She mad at you?” Sebastian asked, and you shook your head.

“No. She understands. She says that she’s sorry that he acted that way, and that she’ll be talking to him. I called Tom and I have the role. I fly to Egypt in two months.” You said, packing up your things. Seb nodded, and moved from where he was to help you.

You took off your costume, and took your hair out. Sebastian took your duffel bag with all your things, and the two of you headed out. Thankfully, you didn’t see Anya of Freya, you weren’t in the right space mentally to explain what happened. All you wanted to do right now was get as far away from Henry as possible.

Don't call me baby again

You got your reasons

I know that you're tryna be friends

I know you mean it

Don't call me baby again

It's hard for me to go home

Be so lonely

Henry sat in his car after getting yelled at by Lauren, Anya, Freya, Joey, and the director, staring at the tree just outside his windshield. He let his emotions get the best of him, and now filming was suspended until they could find a replacement for you. No one was mad at you, no one blamed you. Not even him. He’s the one that fucked up, he’s the one paying the price.

He dug his phone out of his bag, and wasn’t surprised in the slightest when he had a whole bunch of unread messages. He filtered through all the threats that your Marvel friends had sent them.

Chris: you are unbelievable. i cannot believe you treated her like that. my first impression of you being a complete and utter dickhead was true. i can’t believe i was ever friends with you.

Anthony Mackie: for Superman, you’ve done some serious damage. and that’s saying something. i’d be amazed if this didn’t ruin your career completely. you dont get to sit there all high and mighty simply because you’re ‘heart broken.’ none of us are going to keep this quiet.

Scarlett Johansson: count your days cavill. never thought you’d be the type to make a girl cry.

Elizabeth Olsen: congrats on ruining your career. if you even come near Y/N again, we’ll do much worse than ruin your career. believe me.

He threw his head back against the seat. They wouldn’t take it to social media, would they? He thought as he clicked on his instagram app.

The first thing he saw was a post from Robert Downey Jr explaining what had happened.

He’d fucked up bad, and there was nothing he could do to fix it.

To be so lonely, to be so

To be so lonely

To be so lonely, to be so

To be so lonely

245 notes · View notes

charnelhouse · 3 years ago

Note

I feel the same way you feel about deuxmoi!! like when people were saying it’s “invasive” and encourages stalking, I thought hm I mean, nearly (not all tho) most forms of paparazzi is invasive, but someone saying that they say a celeb at a restaurant where celebs usually are (especially in NY and LA) isn’t invasive lol i hate deuxmoi because, like you said, they post whatever! I feel like the bulk od their content is “spotted x celeb at a restaurant anon pls” messages which aren’t?? anything???? like they aren’t gossip or any scandalous celebrity news? Just spittings which if deuxmoi wanted to be just a celeb spotting page then that’s fine but they aren’t lol and then the rest are unconfirmed speculations that may or may not be true but don’t worry deuxmoi will remind u over and over again that they also don’t know what is true! while also claiming that what they post is true so?? anyone can submit anything someone can vaguely send “this big reality tv star and social media icon. Has big plans coming in the future with her equally famous family. be on the look out.” and then in a month or so when kim kardashian does a skims family campaign or like idek makeup ad because she’s Kim kardashian, deuxmoi will be like “we heard it here first 2 months ago!” they think they’re real important to the celebrity zeitgeist of today, but they aren’t really doing anything special? they only thing they’ve done right is the ease of digesting their content (since so many ppl have insta and they post their content in the story that automatically moves to the next story for u, it’s easy to just sit and read)/submitting to their Instagram. And they don’t /know/ celebrities and they kind of hide that fact behind posting ~blinds about nearly anyone. Also, they don’t have any relationship to these celebrities at all like publications in the past but I feel like they want us to believe that they have so many insiders and connections?

The celebrity sightings are a lol. People really out here talking about how a celebrity was rude to them because they asked for a picture at a dinner or when said celebrity was on vacation with his/her family. Embarassed for you!

Look - I am a gossip maven. I have had my finger on the pulse with all that shit since the 2000's and even know a great deal about old Hollywood gossip. Blind Items can be dangerous (Crazy Days and Crazy Nights is straight up fiction most of the time) and Enty has gone full QAnon. DeuxMoi literally had Enty on their podcast. The account was a fun escape in the early days of quarantine, but it very obviously changed hands.

DeuxMoi has essentially democratized gossip, amplifying unverfiied claims that are submitted and sometimes that shit is baseless, but it gets a far reach. What drives me crazy about this person is that they have NO idea about the histories of certain celebrities or who dated who or feuds or who spent time in jail…

If you're going to make money off being the "celeb police", maybe research a thing or two. Don't even get me started on the merch and the constant plugs. Empowering this brand is a mistake.

#inbox #idk why im heated about dis

8 notes · View notes

lsholland · 3 years ago

Text

𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐍𝐄 (𝐓𝐨𝐦 𝐇𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝)

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐈 - "𝐇𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐝𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠?"

Word count: 3.7k

tw: addictions (alcohol, drugs), swearing, disease, murder...

genre: psychological thriller / suspense / drama

Synopsis: Tom Holland is Hollywood's #1 celebrity and is adored all around the world. But this rise to fame hasn't been easy for him. With fame comes his own demons: addiction issues, a relationship that's about to end and...he doesn't know it yet, but he's about to kill an innocent woman. How is he going to get through it?

You can also read it on Wattpad.

Reblogs and comments are appreciated :)

"Tom! Tom!!! TOM!!!" shouts a woman in a black hoodie among a hysterical crowd of young boys and girls trying to get this man's attention. "PLEASE!!! I love you so much" her voice crackles, she's sobbing in despair.

He stops walking and stands right in front of her, a sharpie pen between his fingers and an unnatural grin on his face. Even though these people claim they love him, he's tired of them. It's something with the drama, the screams, and the perpetual inconsideration that drains his energy. His straight face says it all, if only they weren't obsessed with his looks, he'd be pleased to spend time with them. But he knows he's just an object of their fantasies. He forces a smile, or something close to it, and accepts to take a picture with her. He stands next to her, his arms in his back, his fingers intertwined and shakily holding the pen, glancing at the camera lens, lost in his thoughts. His body is present in the moment, but his mind is thousands of kilometres away in the universe that is his brain.

And she's so happy to finally have that precious picture that her smile shows all her impeccable teeth; she's sweating and rapidly breathing and laughing with the same high-pitched voice as everyone else; she's just a typical fangirl. All her friends gather around her and whisper as if they were hiding a secret from an alien.

And onto the next one. Same hysteria, same cry for help, miserable for his attention. She hands him a picture of him in a Spider-Man suit and asks for an autograph while she's filming the scene with her brand-new iPhone.

It has to do with the way they treat him. The way they pretend he doesn't notice their weird behaviour. The way they simply believe he's not a human being. That he must be good-looking, happy, nice, and funny all the time.

"We've gotta go" says his assistant as he presses his shoulder with his hand. Tom looks at him with relief and closes his eyes for a second. He lets out a sigh as a soft smile appears on his angelic face.

"A'ight, I'm sorry guys" he apologises, but that's not enough. Many of them start crying and push through the thin barrier to get a hold of him; like monsters that haven't been fed, like addicts when you can't provide their usual dose of drugs. They look so disappointed and hopeless; leaving now would reduce all his efforts to dust. Keeping a good image and reputation is the key. He doesn't want to be hated.

Guilt rushes through him like a thrill; he glances at his watch and gulps. He gives them another 5 minutes for pictures, autographs, and hugs. Even if he's late. Even if he's going to miss his interview. Because he owes his success to them; or at least he thinks he does.

And when he goes into the back seat of this huge black SUV with no registration plate, he slams the door shut and . . . Peace. Finally, the moment he's been waiting for. The pressure leaves his body like a bubble burst. He sighs and relaxes his muscles, his head falling back on the seat. His eyes are closed; he doesn't say a word for the whole ride. His time alone is so rare and valued.

And when they arrive in front of that gigantic building to pass this final interview, Tom prepares to show his usual bright smile and pretends he's happy. Nobody notices what's hidden in his gaze. But his eyes are telling the truth. His eyes show how hopeless he is. But nobody dares looking into his soul. They only see the superficial layer, the mask he puts on every day. Because nobody knows who he is. Nobody cares about him.

It's so much simpler to ignore sadness in other people. We just tend to believe only good moments are worth sharing. We just pretend we're happy all the time because that's what everyone else does. And why would he show his sadness anyway? He has it all: a girlfriend, loads of money, a caring family, success . . . What can he be sad about?

The interview is done, Tom is in the car, cruising in the city. He's finally going home after a long, tiring, and stressful day.

He unlocks his phone and checks his text messages. They're plain and all related to his fame or his work. All his conversations are so self-centred. What are his plans? What does he like? And what's his opinion on this subject? He, he, him, him, again and again!

He's so tired and wants to be entertained. This empty space laying in his heart and brain becomes bigger and bigger. It's become harder to ignore it, especially when he's alone like tonight. Besides, he's too used to entertain others that he almost forgets what it's like to be passive and watch people do things. As if the world revolved around him.

Here we go. Instagram. The most toxic of all social media platforms. He scrolls through pictures of his friends. The famous ones on red carpets or photoshoots; the anonymous ones a drink in their hands. They're all so superficial. All the same. And the algorithm showing him pictures fans have taken of him earlier today . . . Icing on the cake. Why would he watch this? He doesn't need it. But he decides to read what the fans say, because he's curious. Or because he's obsessed with what people think of him. He needs to be known, loved, remembered, at the centre of attention – adored. He wouldn't need to sell his soul to the devil because it's already in him, and he's now paying the price of this sin.

The fans he met earlier, who were so happy to finally see their idol, were bullying him on social media. They aren't even aware of it. All these people objectifying him, posting pictures of his family – invading his privacy – and saying he can't 'write' or 'walk' or do anything properly because he's just human. They say they are joking except it's not funny. Tom's feelings are hurt, again. He should have written 'you're' instead of 'your', he should have noticed there was a hole in the grass and not trip . . . These images are roaming in his brain like a car's spinning wheels when you brake at 60 miles per hour; the pressure of the tyres scratching your mind, and the intrusive thoughts that can't be stopped like the wheel. Ever. And you eventually hit the wall.

He glances at the rear-view mirror and see his driver focused on the traffic lights. He glances around to make sure no paparazzi is watching and takes a flask out of his back pocket. His trembling hands poorly hold it, but he needs to drink something to feel better; to feel energised. He spills his boose on the leather seats and sighs with annoyance. Grabbing his hoodie feels like lifting the weight of the world; he manages to wipe it off and savours the sweet taste of vodka. Just one sip can't hurt.

That's how you know it's too late.

"Do you really need it?" says the assistant in the front passenger seat who caught him.

"It's just a drink" Tom replies instantly, frowning his eyebrows.

"I'm just worried about you, you know" he adds as he turns around and looks at him in his eyes.

"There's nothing to worry about," Tom mumbles as he feels relaxed "I can stop if I want to."

"If you say so . . ."

And even the people surrounding him day and night aren't trying to help him. Everyone's aware he's slowly getting addicted and is wasting his potential, everyone but the fans. Everyone pretends to love him, but nobody truly cares. They're just after his money, power, and fame . . .

It's like watching him tiptoeing on the deck's edge of a ferry and being shocked when he eventually falls off in the unforgiving cold, dark sea.

He smiles when the car stops in front of his London house. That's the only place where he feels like he can truly be himself. Or the last of it. After all, who is he really? Spider-Man? An actor that pleases 13-year-old girls? A failure? An impostor? Or no one at all?

What happened to the young boy who was excited about everything and anything? What happened to the one who used to laugh more than he'd breathe?

He is torn. He can't love anymore. He's had many girlfriends, each one more famous and beautiful than the last, but they couldn't bring him back to life. He truly loved them though. He felt good with them and always thought they were a match until he messed up. Making up a behaviour so they'd leave him because he's not strong enough to quit. Because he is just like this. A kid who can't handle success.

He currently has a girlfriend. Everyone loves her. He thinks she's too good for him though. Too beautiful, too clever, and maybe too famous. He feels like she's achieving much more than he is and that scares him. He can't even make love to her without feeling like he's not worth it. So, he ignores her calls, takes days to reply to a text, becomes cold as stone, distant, and unstable. This is how cowards break up. But she holds on to him.

Once he gets home, he sits on his couch and starts watching TV. His stomach is empty; he hasn't eaten all day but the only thing he wants is to drink more. It's like a voice in his brain that takes control of his body. He sees everything but can't do anything about it. The smell, the thirst, the mind that can't think of anything else. His hands are shaking, breathing becomes uneasy, he's uncomfortable in his own skin; he's a stranger to himself until he drinks. He's desperately waiting for someone to help him. But they're all too busy with their own problems.

He tries to drink from his flask, but it is empty.

He groans. "One more isn't gonna hurt" he whispers to himself as he walks towards the kitchen area. He opens the fridge and grabs a cold one.

And another one.

And another one . . .

The saddest thing about the situation is that he truly believes in his excuses. He doesn't realise he desperately needs help.

Now, the fridge is empty. But he still doesn't feel it. He doesn't feel the uninhibited state he wants to reach. He's still a victim of his thoughts; the sadness, the anger, the feeling of being trapped in a never-ending game.

He glances at his 80,000 dollars Rolex and decides it's time for him to go to a bar. He grabs his phone and calls his assistant. No answer. He calls his second assistant then. No answer.

"It's only 2AM, come on!" he grunts.

Only?

He thinks for barely a second and grabs his keys and gets into his car. There's a night bar in Kingston that he absolutely loves, and he knows he's always welcome there.

As a celebrity he's obviously welcome everywhere. But he noticed the way people looked at him with pity when he spent an entire night drinking without speaking to anyone. Alone in his thoughts that only he knows. It's different there, the barmaid usually talks to him and entertains him. And she just doesn't care he's famous, which is rare nowadays.

He's been caught drunk driving many times, but he was always released without a word because he's so famous. As if all the police officers have daughters who worship him.

Maybe his problem is thinking he's above all. He who used to be so humble, kind, and generous.

He parks in front of the venue, but the lights are off. He rolls down the window and squints to read the paper sticked to the door.

The bar is closed for annual leave.

"Fuck it!" he shouts. He checks on his phone if another bar is open tonight. Miss Jackson is. It's not the bar he usually spends his time in, but the beers are good and it's not too crowded for him. He absolutely wants to avoid fans tonight.

Most of them are underage, it's dangerous for him. One mistake and he'd become a paedophile. That's why he swore to himself to never do anything with a fan, no matter how hot they are. It's harder to respect this rule when he's drunk though.

"Let's go then" he says in a lazy way, the alcohol slowly taking control of him.

His eyes are red, everything he sees is blurred. He can't keep his thoughts straight.

He starts the car and puts some music to lighten his mood. He needs this to feel better. If something bad happens while he's drunk it ruins his mood. And when this happens . . . he starts having very dark thoughts. The kind of thoughts you better keep to yourself if you don't want people to be scared for you. Where your life is on the line, and you don't care about tomorrow because you just want to stop it . . . The sadness; the anxiety; the constant fears. Because the only moment you feel happy is when you sleep, as if you were dead. Tom feels like this all the time, and he hides it well.

But now he's focusing on the moment. The boose allows him to feel better. He listens to this pop song and its energy is spreading in his body. He's pushed by the music; the excitement and adrenaline take control over his body. He's ready to go.

He quickly backs up the car. He's so excited to go to the bar to finally drink some more and—

BOOM! His car abruptly stops, it sounds like a crash. An alarm is wailing, echoing in Tom's ears, making him feel dizzy. The shock was so intense he hit his face against the airbag of his steering wheel leaving his skin half-burnt. He passes out.

Tom startles as he wakes up, "what the fuck just happened?" he hisses. He stays still giving time to his brain to proceed the information and checks his rear-view camera. It's been disconnected.

He jumps out of his car and checks what happened. He collided with another vehicle. A much smaller car with a crushed bumper. Tom's car is damaged as well, but he doesn't care, he walks over the small Fiat 500 and scans the surroundings. His heart is pounding; air isn't traveling down to his lungs. He suffocates as if he were trapped in a cage down the ocean. He doesn't control his shaking fingers rubbing against his sweating forehead. His lips are parting, gasping for air, while his eyes are wide open looking straight to the ground.

For a second, he realises that he can be in big trouble if anyone knows about this. This can be enough to be fired by the Marvel Studios and ruin his entire career, his life. No one wants a drunk superstar to ruin a movie's reputation.

He hesitates. He wants to run away. He faintly grabs his head in his weak hands and is heavily panting. He can taste iron on the tip of his tongue. He rubs his forearm against his mouth and feels wobbly at the sight of his own blood.

What is he going to do? Has someone seen what happened? And if he leaves, what happens to the unconscious person in the car? But if he helps them, what guarantees him he's not going to be prosecuted? And lose it all? But what if he leaves and this person dies? What if they die and someone knows he killed them? Each scenario is getting worse and worse.

There's only one viable option for him.

"Hey, are you alright?" he says as he approaches the fuming car.

He glances around, but the street is empty. That's the reason why he usually loves this place; because it's so quiet.

"Are—Are you okay there?" he stutters.

He opens the door and see blood. Dark, thick, red blood. An unconscious woman with blood all over her face is lying on the steering wheel. Her car is so old there is no airbag. The shock must've been tough for her. She might even have a brain injury.

Tom places his hand on this woman's neck to check if her heart is still beating. It's weak. She needs help or she'll die because of his stupidity, because he's a drunk who can't even check his surroundings before backing up his car. Poor woman whose life is on pause for his mistake. She'll die because of him.

He dials 999 on his cell phone and repeats what he's going to say once someone picks up the phone.

"There's a woman—she's injured! Car accident!" he cries. He doesn't even try to make sentences; he just wants this to be over. "Please come quickly"

"What's your name, sir?"

His body is wavering, tears are streaming down his face – it's absolute chaos in his mind. He can't tell his name; he'd rather die than publicly suffer from the consequences of his actions. He needs to fly away; he needs to escape from this nightmare. He needs to leave, and now.

He hangs up in a hurry. No one can know he is drunk, and he almost killed someone. He walks back to his SUV and catches one last glimpse of this woman's body before closing the door and driving away.

As soon as he leaves, he regrets his decision, but sticks to it anyway. His soul is crying for him to go back there and help this dying life, but his cowardice tells him to hide and wait until this is over. He's reaching his lowest point, and the only person he wants to see now is his mum. When she holds him in her arms, the weight of his problems is bearable; he can even feel relaxed. And he wishes she'd be able to do it tonight. But it would kill her to know what monstrosity her son just did . . .

He's home, all alone. It's been a few hours since the incident happened, and Tom can't think of anything else. This woman's face, her blood all over the windshield, her crushed car.

Why didn't she see him? Why was she driving so fast in an empty street at night? So many questions roam in Tom's brain, it's slowly eating him alive.

He's sobering up as the morning lights glow on his face. It's already 6AM and he hasn't slept at all. He watches himself in his bathroom mirror and only see dark circles, pale skin, and the features of a monster. The broken blood vessels in the white of his eyes give him an evil aspect. He raises his arm and see the pink burnt skin, another scar for life. How on earth could he leave a dying woman?

He doesn't only feel remorse; he doesn't recognise himself. He's lost and wonders what happened in his life to be so miserable he considers his career more important than someone else's life.

He firmly rubs his face with the palms of his hands and takes off his clothes in a simple sweep. He crawls onto his bed and covers his body with a weighted blanket. He's almost trying to forget he exists when he squeezes his eyes shut and stops breathing until his lungs pressure him to open his mouth. Nature has done a wonderful job preventing us from suffocating on purpose. What a bummer for Tom; he would be dead already if he could just stop breathing . . .

He takes his phone, his only friend and his worst enemy, and checks the local news. Maybe they've mentioned the accident and he'll be able to know what happened to his woman. Not many articles have been published since last night. He keeps scrolling until he finds what he's been looking for.

25-year-old in coma after accident in Southeast London, fugitive remains unfound

Tom's heart skips a beat; this article must be about her. For a second, he apprehends and hesitates to read the article. But his guilty mind needs to know everything about what happened since he deserted.

As he reads the article, he gently places his hand over his mouth to stop him from crying out loud. The woman was so heavily injured they needed to put her under artificial coma to keep her alive. She was on her way to meet her dying husband, in the same hospital she's at now.

Such an emotional shock inflicts a profound pain to Tom's heart. He sobs in silence and passes out due to sleep deprivation. He's finally at peace; no thought, no nightmare. His mind is off, and his body is fully regenerating. His brain is solely focused on keeping his body alive. His soul is resting for a few hours until his cell phone starts ringing.

Tom wakes up with a start and answers his phone without checking who's on the line.

"Tom, what are you doing? I've been knocking at your door for the past 10 minutes," shouts his brother "what happened to your car? Dude what are you doing? You've gotta get ready for GQ!"

"Wh—What?" he mumbles.

His brother knocks at the door. Tom gets off his bed and walks down the stairs with difficulty. When he opens the door, the lights blind him, it's too sunny outside. He'd rather stay inside for a few more hours.

His brother checks him out and sighs. "Have you been drinking? The photoshoot is in less than an hour and you look like shit"

Tom remains silent, trying to process the information.

"And what happened to your car, man?"

And here it is. Every memory comes back in his mind like fireworks and his feet are failing, he can barely stand still. He grabs his brother by his shoulder and holds him tight in his arms. He's the only one who can really help him feel better. He wants to tell him everything that happened, but he can't admit he's got a problem.

He's lost.

* * *

Thank you so much for reading! What do you think so far of the story? Tom is in a very bad situation, I wonder how he's going to get through it?

Please like this post to be in the taglist.

#tom holland #tom holland series #tom holland fanfic #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland fic #tom holland fiction #tom holland imagines

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jeontaehui · 4 years ago

Text

TAEHEE WITH OTHER IDOLS

twice’s chaeyoung

her bestie !!!!! chaeyoung’s like her mark but like outside the group.

they support each other whenever the other wins an award, always giving wide smiles that are too hard to hide.

their hangouts are referred to as ‘dates’ by the fans, considering how romantic their dinners are and how chaeyoung captions her instagram posts after going on said ‘date’.

chaeyoung is very clingy when she sees her. she clings onto taehee like a koala :(

in award shows, taehee would tend to walk slower than the rest of the neos just to talk to chaeyoung.

chaeyoung was once caught playfully flirting with taehee during an award show, causing the latter to laugh as the camera pans to another group.

iconic moment (seoul music awards 2019) taehee took mirror selfies as she waited for chaeyoung to finish up in the bathroom. when chaeyoung found out, she later posted these on instagram with the caption, “the one who i love 😍❤️”.

stray kid’s han

her other bestie since predebut !!!!!!!!

both are so powerful in the rap industry already, stayzens are just waiting for a collab.

they met in a convenience store. jisung wanted her to go to jyp with him, only to find out she’s been training in sm already (cue pouting from the both of them).

both are in Love with each other’s music, with jisung having some of nct’s songs in his playlist and taehee knowing the lyrics and the choreo to skz’s songs.

their reactions to each other’s performances are adorable !!!!!! and even funny at times. attending the same award shows means very cute interactions fans’ lenses would capture <3

(seoul music awards 2019) before the two groups walked by each other, taehee slowed down her pace and let herself stay behind the group to greet the main rapper of stray kids. once jisung was within arm’s reach from her, she raised her hand for a high-five, to which jisung pulled her into a bro-hug instead. he whispered something to her first and ruffled her hair, making the older girl hit his shoulder softly, laughing as he left.

jisung introduced taehee to chan and felix and she now has two new aussie buddies that remind her of home too !!!!!

iconic moment (isac 2019) stayzens went batshit crazy when skz had to pass by nct during the sports competition. seeing this as a chance to be playful with his best friend, jisung jumped over the first row of seats and proceeded to whisper something to taehee (who was seated very near to where the other members of skz were by the way), before jumping over to the third row. jisung must have said something really funny to taehee since it made the female idol to turn away laughing as she covered her mouth. later on, we see the two talk, inviting a very excited chan and a shy mark lee to the conversation.

red velvet’s yeri, april’s naeun, and weki meki’s doyeon

yeri and taehee were already close since trainee days (she’s close with the rest of red velvet too). taehee knew yeri was friends with naeun and she was Dying to meet her so yeri introduced them to each other, and since doyeon is friends with naeun, the latter later introduced all three of them to each other.

yeri and taehee always sat beside each other whenever nct is asked to share a table with red velvet. yeri would laugh a lot since taehee’s always so energetic when she dances to the other groups’ songs. she always hung out with red velvet during isac but would end up having yeri to herself anyways ,,, they teased each other a lot too.

taehee Loves naeun, literally. she’s always flirting with her and telling her how pretty and cute she is. naeun was flustered at first but now she’s used to it lol. taehee would literally just stare at naeun with a loving smile during pre-performance interviews in inkigayo ,, naeun does the same whenever it’s time for taehee to say her lines ^ ^ and whenever they would accidentally make eye contact, they crack up and try to hide their giggles.

taehee was kinda intimidated of doyeon at first ,,, but she thought she was a chill type of person. turns out doyeon had a lot of cute charms in her and taehee always finds herself calling her cute when she does so. they are literally a power duo. whenever the two are mentioned together, fans would gush about how good they would look in a photoshoot together.

iconic moment (yeri bang ep. 11-1) “doyeon’s and taehee’s styles are similar. right?” yeri asks as she picks out beads for the bracelet she’s putting together for taehee. “taehee would want something that goes well with her outfit. she mostly wears monotone or beige colors,” naeun points out.

“ahh naeun, you know me so well,” taehee cooes, and clearly, her eyes were in the shape of hearts. seeing as the she got ignored, yeri drops her mouth open feigning offense. “why didn’t you give me a reaction like that?” she whines, “i knew you before naeun!!!”

“she’s just really interested in naeun,” doyeon hums casually, making the other girls laugh as taehee stood up from her seat. “HEY!!! that’s making me sound like a bad friend and i’m not.”

“are you really?” yeri continues to tease her, causing the said girl to whine and hug her in embarrassment.

blackpink

they’ve met and exchanged numbers in a music show early in their debuts.

she’s the closest with rosé and lisa since their age gap is quite smaller compared to jennie and jisoo.

there have been fancams of taehee watching blackpink perform and once jisoo was on the monitor, we’d see taehee mutter, “ahh she’s really pretty.”

taehee visits blackpink’s table once every award show, and jennie would be so attentive and welcoming of her — fixing her hair, being genuinely interested in what she’s saying, and laughing at her jokes. she was seen clinging onto taehee’s waist at some point, jennie adores taehee :(

taehee’s og aussie buddy is rosé !!!! they talk and eat together a lot, mostly about australia. taehee mentioned her in a radio show talking about the time they both cried in a public restaurant, “we were talking about home and then rosé unnie just started talking about her parents and suddenly i’m tearing up and then she’s tearing up and so we ended up crying while we ate pasta,” she laughed.

lisa thinks of taehee as her little brother. she’s just as energetic as her and taehee’s jokes are what lisa finds so funny. she would join in on a few of rosé and taehee’s hangouts and take lots and lots of pictures of them (and jokingly get mad if one of the girls don’t give her credit when they post on instagram).

iconic moment (200718 rosé instagram live) “you are so hot, rosé,” taehee reads from the comments, making it a sound a little sexy for the effect, the latter widening her eyes at the implication. “how ‘bout me? how ‘bout me?” lisa cuts in, “guys. how ‘bout me?”

“i’m the hottest okay? i’m the hottest,” she presses, rosé repeating what she said in breathy laughter. meanwhile, taehee was looking at lisa with the most sincere eyes she could muster just to tease her, “you are,” she emphasized, “the hottest.”

rosé laughs for the nth time that day as she clutches her stomach before questioning the youngest’s words, “ya, are you a two-timer?”

“no, i just have the prettiest girls beside me.”

ateez’s wooyoung and txt’s yeonjun

more of taehee’s ‘99 liner friends !!!!

taehee met wooyoung when she bumped into ateez in a convenience store near music bank. the leader of ateez greeted her first and a few of the members who were with him became acquainted with taehee, but wooyoung became the closest to her !!!!

(ateez boatta cover dance) “HEY JEON TAEHEE LOOK!!!!” wooyoung shouted before dancing ‘kick it’.

taehee covered ‘say my name’ and ‘answer’ in two of her dance vlives.

then wooyoung introduced yeonjun to taehee when the latter guested as an mc for inkigayo.

(191115 vlive) “oh i really like this song (run away by txt), i listen to this before going to bed sometimes. i’m actually friends with one of the members, yeonjun. ateez’s wooyoung introduced us while i mc’d as a special guest for inkigayo and we exchanged numbers. i really like their songs, especially the vibe.”

taehee is known to be very open with her friendships with other idols, so fans were quite okay with seeing her hang out with the two, her manager trailing a few feet behind them.

iconic moment (191115 vlive) taehee’s laugh trails off once she saw a notification pop-up on her phone. unlocking her phone, she snorts once she checked the message. she proceeds to show the meme to the camera while covering the top part of her phone, “ateez’s wooyoung sent this to our gc with txt’s yeonjun.”

“aha!! d’you guys know? when i send stuff to the gc, sometimes they leave me on read or reply ‘....’ just to tease me,” she rolls her eyes playfully, “but i’m glad we’re comfortable enough to tease each other.”

itzy’s yuna

taehee wanted to make friends to go out of her shell more, and she thought asking her manager to get yuna’s number was the first step.

taehee’s like Really fond of yuna ,,, and she’s glad they got along well real quick so she took her out to eat.

earlier in the year, when superm was touring, yuna sang a snippet of taehee’s solo song and tried to dance all the points of the choreo she could remember.

the fans have yet to see more interactions (or crumbs) from these two — noticing how their age gap is just a year longer than taehee’s and jisung’s, midzyzens would LOVE to see taehee baby yuna :(

iconic moment (200922 yuna instagram live) “nct’s taehee video called me awhile ago. we’re good friends,” yuna shyly giggles in front of the camera. “it’s been a long time since we last talked to each other so she called me, and then told me how much she loved our new album. she told me she really likes ‘not shy’, but she loves ‘be in love’ the most,” she explains further, adding how the nct member loved it because of her ‘killing me, killing me’ verse.

“taehee unnie is very good to me,” she cutely smiles. “she’s very genuine with her words and she’s really supportive. i hope for us to eat again and become closer in the future.”

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mattzerella-sticks · 4 years ago

Text

Ticking Photobomb, T, 1.6k

Carlos Reyes/TK Strand, Evan ‘Buck’ Buckley/Eddie Diaz, Evan ‘Buck’ Buckley & TK Strand

TK loves Carlos, and wants their relationship to work out. Before they can recapture even a semblance of the bliss they shared, Carlos needs to fix his mistake and properly introduce TK to his family. Until then... Carlos deserves at least some punishment. He only hopes Buck will forgive him, for involving him in his and Carlos's first big fight as a couple.

Only it's not Buck's forgiveness he'll need.

ao3 link

based off of this post

He’s wary. He and TK are supposed to be enjoying a delicious meal outside at a nearby park, sun high in the sky, bright but not too cruel, as they sit together on a thin, yellow blanket, and Carlos cannot enjoy any of this beautiful date because a tiny voice in the back of his mind warns him that TK’s silence is a cover for something more sinister. His boyfriend’s smile, aimed at his phone as it has been since they arrived, means trouble. The small, continuous giggles that eke free sound like alarms. Giggles offered with every bite, where he’d type a short message and then set his phone down; only to grab it halfway through its jingling ringtone – TK never usually keeps that on. Carlos remembered him complaining how he hates ringtones, prefers having his phone vibrate. Why is it on now? And why is he texting while they’re on a date? And why does his laughter make Carlos cringe?

“Who are you texting?” he asks, finally, Carlos pushing the plastic container with his half-finished sandwich to the side.

TK glances up from his phone. “No one.”

“No one?”

“Just a friend,” TK says, pinning Carlos with a strange expression that squeezes his heart. It makes the sweat pricking his temples relocate and journey down, rolling towards his chin. Carlos wipes at his face as TK adds, “seriously, you don’t have to worry.”

It’s the way he said ‘you’ that does Carlos in. That has him dredging up what he already considered resolved since before they sat down. Discussed, at length, over the phone, with Carlos apologizing repeatedly. TK assured him they were good. “I thought we were good?”

TK sighs, “We are good.” Then, he mumbles, “As good as any two friends can be.”

Carlos’s frown deepens, mouth resembling a severe gash carved into his face. “I knew it!” Carlos cries, pointing at him. “You’re still mad at me.”

“I never said I wasn’t!”

“You said it was settled –“

“Because it is,” TK insists, a heavy glare drawing all breath out of Carlos’s chest. The façade he wore for their date has been pulled away, and Carlos sees exactly how distressed TK remained after he introduced him to his parents as his ‘friend’. Even with Carlos promising that he would remedy the situation soon, gather his boyfriend and family together and explain the truth of his romantic life, TK clings tight to the pain Carlos caused by letting fear sway his choice, both at the farmer’s market and when he let TK walk out of his home, relationship dangling from a fraying cord. It frays ever closer to breaking. “It’s settled until you work up the nerve to have that dinner you were talking about.”

Carlos splutters, “That’s not – you know, with the pandemic how hard it’s…”

His excuses further irritate TK, who retreats into his phone. He texts someone else. Perhaps the same person he’s been texting this entire time. “Then it’s settled.”

“If it’s so settled,” Carlos asks, “why even bother agreeing to our date today?” He gestures at their unfinished meals, probably cold and stale. If they weren’t, it’s not like Carlos feels like eating anymore.

TK stops texting, smirking at Carlos. Usually, it riles Carlos up in that he wants to kiss it off of him. Right now, Carlos swallows the urge to shove his boyfriend onto his ass. “A date?” TK asks, words languid and breezy, spaced out by palpable sarcasm. “Why would you think this was a date,” he continues, phone tapping against his chin, “we are just friends after all…”

Anger and disappointment converge violently inside Carlos, fighting for release. Neither can, as his vibrating phone pulls his focus from TK. He opens the message on autopilot, confused since it’s from TK. Confusion then drops into the cesspool of his emotions, like Mentos in Coke, and Carlos explodes.

“Why did you send me this?” he demands, showing TK a picture he sent to Carlos of himself. A picture they took, together, when visiting a lake one weekend long ago during the summer. A picture taken after they spent the entire afternoon swimming, bathing suits forgotten on the pier. A picture where TK’s chiseled physique was on display, skin dazzling as fading sunlight turned water droplets into diamonds, and TK’s sunglasses rested low on his nose as he smiled to the side where Carlos was. Was. As in not anymore. Only his arm, slung around his boyfriend’s shoulder, remained. Saved by being impossible to crop out. “Well?” Carlos asks again.

TK sighs, “Oh, I must have sent that by mistake.”

“You wanted to send me something else?”

“No,” TK clarifies, “I sent that to you by mistake. It was supposed to go to Buck, see?” TK shows Carlos his message thread, with the picture he sent Carlos, timestamped, showing he forwarded it to Buck first, then Carlos.

“…Buck.”

“Yeah, Buck,” TK continues, leaving his texts and diving into his photo album. He selects a group shot of the 126, plus a few extra members. He zooms closer on one face, Buck’s, enough that Carlos can distinguish the two birthmark spots above his eyebrows. “I’m sure I told you about him.”

“You did,” Carlos nods. He tears his gaze from Buck’s smile, fuming. “The firefighter who flirted with you.”

“I mean, he also helped me save my dad,” TK says, “but, yeah… he also flirted with me.” TK lowers his phone, chuckling, “We’ve just been chatting back and forth – as friends do – when I realized… y’know, I told him I wasn’t interested, because I had this really awesome boyfriend who I love, but since that’s not the case anymore, we’re only friends apparetly, I figured I might as well shoot my shot. Find out if he’s still interested. Maybe once quarantine is done, I can take some time off and… see what Los Angeles has to offer.” The eyebrow wiggle was completely unnecessary. TK communicated exactly what of Los Angeles he intends to see, regardless of how his eyebrows moved.

He’s better than this. Carlos knows what TK is doing. What the picture, and its delivery, was supposed to accomplish. What it’s succeeding at. He can win this, simply by ignoring TK’s teasing.

Except.

“You are not going to Los Angeles.” Carlos scowls, “Not without me. And especially not if Buck is gonna be there.”

TK scoffs, “What are you, my boyfriend?”

“…Yes!”

“Says who?” he asks, “Your parents?”

They’re outside. In public, surrounded by people who keep their distance. Unfortunately, their voices carry wide enough they draw a sizeable crowd. Carlos doesn’t notice until TK storms off and leaves him with the blanket, the abandoned food, and their audience.

Carlos blushes, hiding behind his hands. He wishes he never fumbled back then, in the farmer’s market. He also, briefly, wishes he and Buck switched places. At least then TK would be treating him to risqué pictures. At least Carlos would be having a good time, if he were Buck. He’d be receiving sexy photos from a certified dreamboat instead of suffering because of his own mistakes.

---------------------------

Buck stumbles over his words, stuttering, rushing out his explanation to a stone-faced Eddie. “Seriously,” he says, “I don’t – I don’t know why TK sent me that picture of him! It’s not like I asked! One second we’re talking about movies and the next thing I know – shirtless TK!”

“Yeah, I know,” Eddie huffs, arms folded across his chest, “I saw.”

He shouldn’t have. If Buck hadn’t left his phone on the table to help Bobby in the kitchen. If he didn’t hear his phone beep with an arriving message, almost vibrating off the table from it. If Eddie, along with Hen and Chim, weren’t climbing the stairs at the moment, and if he ignored Buck’s plea to hand him his phone. To punch in the code – which he knew, of course Eddie knew – since Buck was wrist deep in a turkey’s hole.

Buck washed his hands immediately, drying them on his pants as he chased Eddie the few feet towards the couch.

“So,” Eddie continues, “you and TK…”

He and TK? “We’re friends,” he says, repeating himself after Eddie’s disbelieving stare. “Okay, I mean – he did turn me down once, when we were leaving Texas. But he said he had a boyfriend –“

“He turned you down?” Eddie asks, “You flirted with him?”

“No!” Buck shrugs, running his hand over his forehead, frowning at the sweat that pooled there. “Well, I didn’t think I was. But he did? And – and he left before I could say anything, but I didn’t think it mattered since he, y’know, had a boyfriend!” He stomps his foot, irritation bubbling from the pit of his stomach and out his mouth. “Besides! Why does it matter if he sends me pictures?” Nice pictures. Distracting pictures that made Buck question exactly why TK misunderstanding his friendliness was a problem. “Why are you so angry?”

“Because… because…” Eddie looks past Buck, at the peanut gallery assembled by the kitchen. Hen and Chimney watching with interest while Bobby pretends cooking a turkey involves his whole focus. None of the seem keen to jump in and help. “Because… you…” Suddenly, Eddie stands. Buck recoils, stepping backwards. “You know what,” Eddie says, digging into his pocket, “I’m telling Marjan to unfollow you on Instagram.”

“What?”

“And!” he yells, phone free and on, “I’m telling her to block you!”

“What? No – Eddie, no! Don’t!” Buck follows his friend, pleading, “C’mon, she hasn’t even liked any of my photos yet… Eddie… Eddie!”

Eddie ignores him, furiously typing the end of Buck’s most famous connection online. In his haste, Buck forgets his phone on the counter. Eddie takes precedence over his phone.

Later, Buck will return to it. He will respond to TK’s picture, sending a tidal wave of texts at the Texan firefighter ranging between the immense trouble that picture landed him in and how TK can repay him by convincing Marjan to follow him again.

But that’s later. Now Buck slams his fist against the firetruck, yelling for Eddie to unlock the door.

Eddie doesn’t.

#911 on fox #911 lone star #carlos reyes #tk strand #evan 'buck' buckley #eddie diaz #tarlos #buddie #tarlos fanfic #buddie fanfic

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peeterparkr · 4 years ago

Text

perfidy;tom holland|11

chapter 11: the sidekicks

enemies to lovers au/enemies with benefits

chapter summary: brothers know best

pairing: tom holland x y/n

warnings: swearing, angst, didn’t proof read, dirty dancing

word count: 8k

here’s a playlist

social media before you read (IMPORTANT FOR THE CHAPTER) :

tweets & texts instagram posts

previous chapter next chapter series masterlist wanna be tagged?

Hey guys sorry for not posting! But to make it up! Here’s an extra long chapter! Thanks for your messages, I’m feeling better now:) And I hope you enjoy this one since I loveeee Dirty Dancing

We all believe in lies when we’re in love, even if we know it’s not true. We all want to trust people when we are in love. Tom still believed in y/n.

“I hate her,” Tom had stated as soon as he had walked into his place. He stormed into the kitchen as he saw Harrison.

“And we’re back to that, hi, thanks for the horn last night,” Harrison rolled his eyes.

“I hate her,” Tom yelled.

“You said that already,” Haz pointed out before walking away.

Tom followed after. “Well… you know what she did before calling me?”

“I do not, Tom,” Haz sighed.

“She kissed Timothee,” Tom snapped.

Haz paused and looked at him. “Tom.”

“Fuck her honestly,” Tom yelled again. “And then she just calls me up and then we—we—“

“You had car sex,” Harrison stated. “Which by the way, seriously be careful with the horn—“

“And then we went out for breakfast and—“Tom complained. “We had a moment, I took her to the tree house, we cuddled—See? That’s romantic, I’m doing hat? Then they almost caught us—Because we left her fucking car there, I held her hand the whole breakfast and then she dropped the bomb. She’d kissed Timothée.”

“She told you?” Haz questioned.

“No, but Timmy called her and he texted her—And I read it.”

Harrison watched him. “Tom, are you listening to yourself?”

“And it doesn’t end there, Harrison—She said that we are not exclusive, and then—“

“Tom! Tom! You put yourself into this, I don’t know what the hell you guys have been through, but you accepted that but—but, Tom before you continue this—I think Sam knows.”

“Sam?” Tom freaked out.

“Yes, Sam, he texted me he saw you both sneak out of the treehouse, he’s on his way over so you better start coming up with an alibi,” Haz suggested.

Tom was screwed. He needed time to think, and a shower would help him with thinking. What pathetic excuse could he give out to his brother? Did he really need to give him an explanation? Maybe he could say it was a weird place where he could focus and then y/n had read some lines with him.

But maybe he’d seen them hold hands,had he seen how Tom was holding her hand under the table?

There was no way he could’ve seen it. But maybe he’d noticed their behaviour. Tom wasn’t subtle when he looked at y/n. Not now, anyway.

But now Tom couldn’t focus, he had to think about y/n and what he was going to o with that, how to make y/n trust him. He couldn’t, he knew he had been an asshole, he’d made mistakes, some bad, some worse. And that had led him here.

Maybe he did know why y/n didn’t trust him. Stupid decisions.

He really didn’t want to deal with Sam now.

Tom had opened a beer as he was on his couch, staring at the lovely day outside as Sam had settled in. Haz was across with another beer, watching them.

“Okay so, care to explain, Tom, may I know why I saw you both sneak out of the treehouse?” Sam asked for the third time. Tom hadn’t answered.

“What’s going on?” Sam pushed.

“We—had a picnic there,” Tom admitted.

“Are you dating? Like last time?” Sam questioned.

Tom frowned as he turned to his brother. “Last time?”

“Harry’s not here, Tom, you can be honest about it, we all knew it,” Sam rolled his eyes. “Three years ago.”

“We—no, we are not dating,” Tom sighed.

Haz scoffed as he took a sip of his beer. “Were you 3 years ago?”

“Kind of,” Tom admitted. “Not really.

“Fuck, what?” Harrison scoffed.

Sam chuckled. “I knew I was right.”

“Three years ago was a very different situation, and I really don’t want to talk about it, okay?” Tom excused himself. “

“I just need to know Tom, what exactly are you doing? Harry was madly in love-”

“I know I know, Harry. Harry. Harry. I am very aware? I know Harry was in love with her. I’ve lived all my life knowing,” Tom snapped. “Harry loves her. No news. Loves? Loved? I don’t know. I know that.”

Sam frowned.

“But what none of you fucking knew,” Tom sighed as he stood up, pacing around the living room. “Is that I’ve also been in love with her since forever,” Tom explained. “I can’t hide it anymore and now that Harry is fucking getting married to someone else I might as well finally give it a shot.”

Sam was the one to sit down now as he watched his elder brother. “What?”

“I am in love with y/n,” Tom stated.

“You’ve been awful at showing that,” Sam pointed out

Harrison chuckled. “That’s what I initially thought, Sam but then everything makes sense.”

“Does it?” Sam frowned. “Because as long as I remember, you broke her heart in the blink of an eye three years ago when you were supposedly dating her.”

Tom coughed. “I know.”

“Right,” Harrison nodded. “You’d been hanging out for a while, I knew that, but then when we saw you, you left her all alone and ended up hooking up with--”

“Yes I know,” Tom barked. “I know, I fucking suck. I know, but I did this… Oh my god, everything I’ve done…”

“Y/N has always had a soft side for you, even after everything,” Sam frowned. “I don’t know how the fuck she still had a crush on you after she’s literally seen your worst side. I never told anybody this but that time three years ago, I was the one to drive her home, and I’d never seen her cry before, not that way.”

“Look,” Tom plopped back on the couch. “I know, I’ve been awful to her, but everything has a reason alright?” Tom sighed. “I’ve always… I knew she had feelings for me, alright? Especially… three years ago, and I thought, that time I could… I could finally tell everybody but then I saw Harry’s face and he was so heartbroken, he was so… So heartbroken.”

Sam watched him. Harrison waited.

“So I thought, hey, I can’t do that to my brother, I can’t let him be sad, because he loves her, okay? And… All my life, he was the one who was nice to her, he was the one whom she should like and she liked me? How the bloody hell did she like me? I did everything I could to make her hate me but we always ended up…” Tom rolled his eyes. “I don’t know, if she loved Harry things would’ve been easier but she’s broken my brother’s heart too many times, all by herself, and three years ago, that was on me. I was the one to blame on my brother’s broken heart.”

Sam watched him. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“About what?”

“If Harry had known,” Sam explained. “He would understand, for fuck’s sake Tom, all Harry ever wanted was for y/n to be happy.”

Tom sighed. “It was easier hiding it, alright? I don’t know,” Tom snapped.

“Do you really love her?”

“Yes, fuck I love her, but now… Everything has gone to shit, okay?”

“And what is going on now?” Sam questioned.

Harrison rubbed his face.

“She doesn’t trust me anymore,” Tom sighed.

“Do you expect her to, Tom? Honestly? You’ve treated her like actual shit for a while and you expect her to be happy?” Sam frowned. “Really Tom, you’re the one who sent her to therapy.”

“What?”

“Three years ago, she didn’t tell anybody but me, just after you broke her heart she had to go to therapy, and do you really expect her to trust you again?” Sam frowned. “You really don’t know her, not like Harry or I do. And not even Harry because oh well, has she felt guilty when it comes to Harry.”

Tom frowned. “What?”

Sam sighed. “Didn’t you guys see it?” Sam looked at Haz and Tom. “She knows about Harry’s feelings. She tried to make his feelings go away.”

“This makes it even worse,” Tom snapped. “She is no better than me.”

“The difference is Tom, she never broke his heart, not on purpose, and the way to get rid off his feelings was by introducing him to other people, not by making out with some random person at a club when she was on a date with him.”

Tom stayed quiet.

“What’s going on right now?”

Tom sighed. “We slept together,” he admitted.

Sam took a deep breath. “I knew it.”

“What?” Tom frowned.

“Ah, come on you guys were not subtle at all, please,” Sam rolled his eyes. “Wait-” He closed his eyes. “Please tell me you didn’t fuck in the treehouse or else I won’t be able to walk in there again.”

“No.”

Sam sighed with relief. “I hate you.”

Tom stayed quiet. This hadn’t been the reaction he expected. He had obviously expected a warmer ‘oh my god, I didn’t know, you should go after her, big brother’ instead Sam was trying to get Tom not to date y/n, and not for the reason he had expected him to stop from. Sam was defending y/n?

“So, what’s-- what happening?” Sam asked, not sure if he wanted to know the answer.

Tom didn’t give him one.

“They’re enemies with benefits,” Harrison was the one to answer.

“What the fuck is that?” Sam watched him.

“I dunno, she came up with it.”

“Tom, if…No, why are you doing this? That’s literally the worst thing you could do,”Sam said. “Now that, if Harry found out.”

“I know,” Tom rolled his eyes. “I want a relationship,” Tom explained.

“But she doens’t want one,” Sam finished. “Right.”

Tom clenched his jaw. “Yes.”

“Did you expect her to, after everything?” Sam questioned.

“ I don’t know what to do anymore,” Tom started. “I’m angry at myself but I don’t know what to do I don’t even think she was that angry at me alright?” Tom explained, Harrison and Sam glared at him. “I… I really, deep inside. I don’t think she’s ever truly felt anything for me,” Tom said. “She’s always been confused, y/n has always been quiet about it, did she like me when I took her to prom? I don’t know! When we kissed? I don’t know! And now, even when… All of this is going on, I have never seen her look at me and feel like I’m the only man in the world, alright?” Tom frowned. “Yes, she’s said it, she probably told you about it, but with me, she’s never shown me she likes me, except… Except three years ago, And I fucked it up with her, and now…” Tom ran a hand through his hair. “I don’t trust her either, because yes, I’ve been bad to her, but she’s also been… She’s also broken my heart, I don’t know, three years ago, I.. I don’t know, maybe I had expected her to tell everyone because when… We had kissed okay? And she hadn’t really… It felt like a numb kiss.”

They didn’t say anything.

“And I don’t trust her, because she’s also… Remember about 4 years ago, she’s also broken my heart, when she said she didn’t care about any of my movies? Or when she stood me up for the premier? Or when she read out a poem on how dumb I was?” Tom pointed out. “I can’t trust her, because I know she’ll also break my heart, and I know, I know, I know…. I’ve been far worse to her but you guys, look….” He left the room and headed towards his room, searching in one of his drawers. He took out a small bag and then came back to them.

“What is that?”

“This is my own reminder that she also pushes away everything I give her, yes the context for this… Is my fault.”

“Dust?” Sam frowned as he stared at the plastic bag full of dust.

“These are the ashes from the last flowers I gave her I know I fucking broke her heart I am very aware,” Tom said.

“Why do you have that?” Harrison frowned.

“I don’t know why the fuck I kept it, I guess to remind myself that she would never… like me back because I had finally done it. I thought, hey she’ll like Harry back, but what did she do? She dated Timothée, even when Harry was going to be there for her,” Tom sighed. “I don’t know, I don’t know where I’m going with this, I have a lot of things like this, okay? Even if it’s fucking mental.”

Sam and Harrison watched him.

“But I don’t know what the hell I am supposed to do, I held her hand for—I don’t know I don’t know if she was sad if she was angry, because she didn’t care. I never know what’s up with her, she tells no one. And—after I did this I reached out for her, alright?” He held up the flowers. “Day and night and I regret it okay? Everything I’ve done because how the fuck have I allowed myself to hurt the person I’ve loved the most?”

Sam watched him. “Exacly, how do you expect her to fall in love with you?”

“I don’t, not… Not right now but I am so stressed right now, I want to show her that this time I won’t break her heart, that this time I am going for real, and that I want her to fall in love with me and as stupid as it may sound, I dunno hae a relationship, a normal one, I don’t.. I don’t want whatever we have right now.”

“Well, prove it to her, ask her out,” Sam said.

“It’s not that simple,” Tom said. “I don’t know what to do, because I just want to dive in but I’m also afraid of her, I’m afraid that she’ll take her revenge.”

Harrison shook his head. “That’s not like y/n.”

“Her revenge was probably dating Timothée,” Sam explained. “But y/n won’t hurt you, not like that anyway.”

“Well, how do I make her fall in love with me, then?” Tom asked.

We all believe in lies when we’re in love. But y/n didn’t trust Tom.

Y/N had been distracted. Maybe she didn’t love him anymore. He was only a distraction, but such a good distraction. The thing was, she didn’t know this side of him.

But she knew him enough to know he’d back up. Because y/n over the years had seen a pattern: Tom shows her some love, then he backs away and blames it on her.

Of course, y/n had trust issues. She’d been repeatedly stabbed by a man, and she’d actively given him the knife.

She had been staring at the Polaroid. If anybody saw it they’d think Tom was in love with her, his eyes sparkled with love. So gentle as a wide smile was shown. It gave y/n butterflies. But as she was hanging it up she stared at the other pictures, particularly at the one when they were back in Rome. A gentle jolt was felt. As if her own wall full of memories was kindly reminding her of what Tom had done.

Nobody chooses who we fall in love with, and nobody chooses where our heart wants to go. We can’t stop ourselves from falling. In whatever that sense it may come to. Falling down to the ashes of what something might have been is a stupid way to live by.

But when we do, when the decision is up to us? Is it wrong to let ourselves fall?

Because y/n knew she was going to, anyway. Either fall in love or fall into that dark place. There was no going back. Especially with those poisonous pair of lips he had.

Y/N had paced around her place and finally opened up her laptop to write away. Honestly, she couldn’t. She was too angry at herself because this probably was her downfall. Was she really looking for revenge? Did she really want Tom to go down where she had?

She didn’t wish that for anyone, but she had to protect her heart. She didn’t love him, but this was way too good to be written. Maybe that was the reason the script had come in so quickly, so easy to write sometimes. When her mind wandered to his broad back drawing to his strong arms. The late night conversations. However, she’d stop. Mostly because she didn’t want to daydream about him.

But she’d always written about him, how many files did she not have about him. Not exactly stories. But maybe a doc that was only describing how light hit him perfectly or how his laughter could outshine the whole room. The way he’d gently look into her.

A million poems dedicated to his smile.

Maybe that was weird. Too much for a crush. But really who else could she tell that she loved him?

Past tense. Not anymore.

But did she not love him? Because she had to separate the sex from her feelings, but honestly, his lips butterflying on her skin didn’t help. And her mind was roaming again. She went back and collected every single Polaroid she had of him. She hadn’t really understood why he hadn’t pointed out how many times he’d appeared on her wall. From children, to their prom picture, a silly picture. Tom here. Tom there. He was the main focus of her entire room.

Tom.

She’d even printed one in which he was kissing her cheek, just after Rome. Had he not seen it? Had he been so oblivious to how important he was to her? Or did he only choose to ignore it? Like everything else.

Because her heart did stop whenever she looked at him. But this was stupid, right? Having feelings for someone who had made her cry her entire life. Talk about some issues. He always ignored it.

But then all the other Timmy pictures hanging around stung.

She felt like she could still feel Tim’s lips against her. Soft and light.

The only company she had now was a little plush frog from her childhood. It was dirty and ripped off but still huggable.

Fritz.

Still huggable.

She didn’t know what else to do. She didn’t want to write. She didn’t want to do anything. She just wanted to lay down on the floor while listening to One Direction, because y/n had very poor ways of dealing with her stress. And because y/n was someone very lonely, and very quiet. She rarely told anyone about anything. Except Harry but… she’d always been careful around Harry. Because… Harry. Harry only knew about her slight crush. That’s what she’d said about it.

But no one really understood her feelings towards Tom. Not even her for that matter. Less now.

Luckily her brother had come to the rescue. A pizza and beers. Stella Artois. The one damned beer that reminded her of Tom. She wasn’t sure why.

Of course when he’d walked in and saw her on the floor hugging Fritz, surrounded by Polaroids featuring Tom with ‘If I could fly’ in the background, he knew it was going to be hell for him. She had cleaned the tears.

“I was going to say mood, but I’m honestly too concerned,” James said. “So, what is this? A ritual to make Tom finally admit his real feelings for you? Should I get candles?”

Y/N only looked at him, and pouted.

“Should I do the same with you so you finally admit your feelings for him?” He asked as he sat down on the floor with her. “You’ve been crying.”

She only closed her eyes and hugged Fritz tighter.

“You’re weird, N/N.”

He didn’t push the conversation, until they were both sitting up. Pizza seemed more interesting.

Y/N opened her third bottle of beer.

“So you have feelings for Tom, brand new information,” James said.

“You—“

James laughed. “You haven’t been subtle about it, though I thought they’d already be gone by now. I hadn’t seen you this way since three years ago. Thought you’ve grown out of that crush.”

“Three years ago, huh,” she looked at the now-empty box of pizza.

“Yup, you chose the worst Holland to have feelings for,” James pointed out.

“I don’t—“

“You do have feelings,” James concedes.

“I do, but I don’t know what feelings,” she admitted as she picked up a Polaroid and stared at it. She let out a soft groan in frustration. “How the fuck do you not expect me to like him?”

James stared at her sister. “And what’s the deal? You know Tom is in love with you?”

“He is not.”

“Harry is too, wouldn’t be surprised if Sam had a crush on you. Even Paddy.”

“Shut up. That’s not true,”

James let out a laugh. “Well, at least Tom and Harry.”

“No.” Y/N paused. “Not Tom.”

James scoffed, surprised. “So you do know about Harry.”

She did. But she didn’t want to admit it, because that would mean she’d broken her best friends heart. She couldn’t live with that.

“But Tom doesn’t love me.”

James laughed. “You’re so oblivious y/n, and he is too, he doesn’t know what his own feelings are.”

“No, but he is aware of mine and he loves playing with them,” y/n frowned. “And—I had promised myself I wouldn’t love him anymore. And I won’t.”

“Well what’s the problem?” James asked, “ah wait you’re working for him, so you’re spending more time with him,” James recalled, “is he being an ass?”

“No,” y/n was frustrated. “That’s the problem.”

“But what about Tim?”

“I—don’t know,” she closed her eyes. “I love Timmy.”

“Alright…”

“But god, Tom.”

James watched her and then gave it a thought. He suddenly realized it. “You slept with him,” he said it to himself.

“Wha—What?”

“You slept with him!”

“James!”

“Oh my god, y/n did you have sex with Tom?”

“I—“

“Oh my god, you did,” James watched her as he slowly freaked out. “Oh my god. No. Why did I ask you that? Gross. No fuck—I don’t want to know about my little sister’s fuck….God I’m gonna kill him.”

“James!”

James stood up. “I’m going to kill him, let’s go right now. God—“

“James,” y/n rolled her eyes.

“I’m going to kill him, how dare he corrupt my little sister? For god’s sake you’re childhood… friends! How dare he! I thought he was my friend but if he”-

“James!” She ran after him.

“If he dared to sleep with my—he’s a fucking awful friend. And I’m going to kill him, my keys, where are my keys?”

She stopped him. “I...didn’t sleep with him! James chill.”

“You didn’t?”

Y/N blinked. “No, I didn’t. You need to calm the fuck down.”

“Y/N?”

“We… kissed okay, now calm down, Jesus, James, you’re older. Be mature.”

“Sorry—And—“he closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. “Sorry, even if you did it’s none of my business. You’re a grownup.”

“I am,” she continued.

He watched her, as she was shaking. “But… Oh my god you did. No, I know you—- You did sleep with him, didn’t you?”

Y/N didn’t answer.

“Oh my god, y/n,” he squinted his eyes. “No wait, I know you—you did sleep with him.”

She rolled her eyes. “If it had hypothetically happened, and it didn’t—Why would it matter?”

He rubbed his face. “Y/N oh my god.”

“Look, the only bad thing about this—Is our past.”

“I—I don’t need details okay? But is this going anywhere? Are you in a relationship?”

Y/N didn’t answer.

“Oh my god, you’re not that’s what’s stressing you!” James watched her. “Isn’t it? Yes, now I get it! Oh my god you’ve caught feelings but you—“

“James you’re—“

He had to pace around the room. “I need you to understand y/n that while you and Tom didn’t get along he’s one of my best friends. Alright? So him sleeping with you is a direct betrayal to me and I hate him.”

“Now we are in the same team,” y/n walked over to her kitchen to sit on the counter.

“No we are not, because you slept with him—Or sleeping?”

Y/N gulped.

“Y/N!”

Y/n looked away. “Can we focus on what’s important here?”

“That you have a crush on him, or what? Are you pregnant?” He asked.

“No.” She rolled her eyes. “The problem is way bigger than all of this.”

“Do you have tequila?” James asked as he rushed to her cabinets. “I need some tequila to be able to hear this.”

Y/N glared at her brother as he took out some shot glasses and a bottle of tequila. “You’re overreacting.”

“How would you feel if your best friend slept with you?”

“If Harry slept with you?” She chuckled.

James rolled his eyes. “You know what I meant,” he frowned. “And—He's been an asshole to you for all your life.”

“My point exactly,” y/n ran a hand through her hair. “Look, there is a lot of Tom and I that you guys don’t know.”

James downed a shot, and then poured one for her. “No kidding.”

She downed a shot too. “Oh my god, it’s only sex James, I’m sure you’ve had it.”

“I don’t tell you about it!”

“I wasn’t planning on telling you! I didn’t tell you!”

James downed another shot. “Oh y/n, I had assumed you had had sex with someone!”

“Can we not talk about it—“

“And I knew— like oh she probably, I mean. C’mon y/n. You were on the floor with Harry Styles—“

“One Direction,” she corrected.

“Not fucking important y/n,” James snapped. “I knew you were broken hearted but I didn’t—expect Tom? I thought hey, she probably slept with her ex again! And she’s confused about Timmy but—Fuck, Tom?

“Oh my god, James, I’ve been in love with him my whole life,” she snapped. “No—Not right now.” She had to pause to pinch the bridge of her nose. “I am afraid I’ll fall ban in love with him.

She stared at the bottle of cheap tequila, inviting her to drink more.

Her brother filled up his own glass.

“No, I can’t. Tom has broken my heart so many times I’m not sure if I could afford any more.”

James watched her.

“And that doesn’t even come close to where my actual problem relies on,” y/n explained. “It’s way more complicated.”

“Should I pour more?” James asked.

—

Y/N had confessed some things to James, and her brother hadn’t really told her anything. “Y/N, don’t get in trouble, you’ll end up breaking many hearts in this, but... your own heart is the one at stake.”

He had been right. But she hadn’t slept, at all. She couldn’t see him. She couldn’t see Tom, and then Timmy. She would freak out, because she couldn’t handle this. So she hugged Fritz, like that would help.

But her phone rang, in the middle of the night just as she was about to drift off trying to solver her problems by trying to find the answer in a dream.

“Tom… it’s 4 am,” she answered, angrily.

“I know,” he sighed. “I just—“

“I’m not in the mood I’m tired—“She snapped.

“I’m not calling for that.”

“What for then? let me sleep,” she frowned as she sat up.

“I don’t want this to be like that last time,” he explained.

Y/N wanted to cry. “I don’t want to have this conversation Tom, not at 4 am.”

“But I mean it.”

“What are you suggesting Tom?”

“I’m suggesting…”He trailed off. “I don’t even know what I’m suggesting.”

Y/N didn’t want to listen to him. “I think you mixed it up Tom, see? That’s why having breakfast is forbidden, and that’s why we shouldn’t have spooned and that’s why you shouldn’t have held my hand.” But she didn’t know why she was saying this, in technicalities she had him where she was supposed to have him. Was he catching feelings?

But y/n knew Tom couldn’t catch feelings. This was another game by tom

“But why not, y/n? You want it too,” he pushed.

“I don’t know if I want it, Tom.”

Tom kept quiet for a bit. “Why not?”

“Because I don’t want to burn another set of yellow flowers, alright?” She reminded him.

“II don’t think you’re getting my point y/n,”Tom gulped.

“What point? Tom can we talk about it later? I need to sleep,” she sighed.

“The point that maybe I don’t want it ending on me showing up at your door with yellow flowers? Unless it’s…”

Y/N frowned. “it’s what?”

“Happy flowers, maybe change the meaning of yellow flowers...I dunno y/n, I just know.#

“Well it won’t change, you realize that?” Y/N answered. “But why do you want to...We can keep this thing going, sex and no strings attached what’s the deal?”

Because she didn’t want to write about it. That was it. She really didn’t want to write about it, but this whole ‘enemies with benefits’, she knew she could sell it easily to her boss and she didn’t need to have her heart on stake.

“That maybe I don’t want it,” Tom said.

“You don’t want it?” Y/N questioned. It was hard to accept the fact that she didn’t want to admit that Tom may had had feelings for her too.

“Maybe I do want some strings attached.”

“You’re just jealous of Timmy,” she remembered where all of this had come from.

“Maybe”

“And that’s it, but I don’t— look tom, I’m not trying to get back to Timmy alright? Are you happy with that answer?”

“No.”

Y/N frowned. “What do you want from me then? Want me to go over, so we can have meaningless sex right now and then forget about all of this?” She said with poison.

“No.”

She groaned. “What do you want Tom?”

“I want to take you out on a date.”

She stayed quiet. “For what? So we can start hanging out only the two of us for a while, go out on dates and then you’ll end up with another pink skirt on a club and leave me hanging there? For that?” She hissed.

“No, to make up for that, because I shouldn’t have done that kind of shit,” he said. “Because I really never wanted to hurt you.”

“I thought you did, you said you were doing it exactly for that,” she felt tears coming down. “Tom we are better at being enemies, that’s what we are good at.”

“Are we though?”

“Tom that’s who we are, it’s our nature. It’s on your nature, we are always looking for a way to hurt each other to get back at each other,” she reminded him.

“Well shouldn’t we change that?” He questioned.

“We can’t change it, we are untrustworthy,”she explained.

“Well we also couldn’t be in a room for more than five minutes and we’ve managed that,” He reminded her. “I’m just asking for a date y/n.”

“And I’m just asking you to let me go to sleep okay?” She frowned.

He groaned. “Y/n it’s not-”

“I can’t deal with this shit right now, okay?” She interrupted him. “I don’t want to go to that dark place Tom.”

“You think I haven’t gotten to a dark place?”

She scoffed. “Have you, really Tom?”

“Y/N I have been awful to you,” he admitted.

“No shit.”

“I’m the bad guy of this story, I know that, and I’m an asshole, I’m very aware. But I think that we both know it’s no secret that I like you.”

She didn’t answer. Because she didn’t want to believe it. But when you’re in love, you want to believe in all lies.

“At least these days I’ve tried to make it clear.”

“Well, you’ve been years building up this whole I hate you thing, you’ll understand why I have a hard time believing you,” she said.

“But I mean it, I—I think we know each other that much-”

“Yes, to know we wouldn’t work, we’ve been proven, no, let me rephrase that,” she took a deep breath. “You’ve proven that it would take you less than five minutes to hurt me and hey, I’ve proven that to you too.”

“But we’ve also proven that I can kiss your neck and undress you in less than two minutes,” he chuckled.

“Goodnight, Tom.”

“No. Y/n, wait—”

“Well, but you do realize that doesn’t mean anything, if anything it means we can keep up with this whole benefits thing,” She said, as the thought came to her mind.

“No no no, y/n, come on, just—Let me take you out tomorrow. For lunch. Doesn’t have to be a date,” he pleaded.

“I’m not having this conversation at four am.”

“Why not?”

Y/N bit her lip as she hugged her pillow. “Let’s just continue to hate each other, fuck when we want to and we’re good okay?”

“No, not okay y/n, besides this is not like you.”

“It’s not like me? Well you turned me into this Tom,” she snapped.

“Well, then we’re done with the sex.”

“Alright.”

“No wait-”

But she’d already hung up.

Tom didn’t sleep after that. And he had gone to rehearse. He saw her, they hadn’t even said hello to each other. But of course after talking to Sam night he’d gotten a very different perspective. And after talking to her, it was too different. He’d fucked up by calling.

Tom had to ignore her, too. She didn’t want to go out with him, alright. So Tom had made sure to make her see that he didn’t care.

He couldn’t.

However, he didn’t blame her.

But he knew her.

He knew y/n was of the jealous type, very jealous. She’d shown it throughout their life, y/n was someone who wanted attention, all the time. She had always been the centre of attention, you didn’t need to know her to catch that. Her clothes, the way she’d make her melodic laugh be heard across the room, and the way she’d find the perfect moment to walk into a room. But she tricked everybody into thinking that she didn’t care, when in fact she did.

Of course, when he saw her, he knew that she knew exactly what she was doing. A headband tied up in a bow, and a white big shirt not fully buttoned. She knew exactly what she was doing.

So of course, Tom being so mature, made sure that y/n knew he actually didn’t care. And he’d noticed over the last two weeks that y/n would get very distant when his co-star, Maddison would get unbelievably close to him, clenching her jaw and faking a smile. Tom had noticed Mad’s flirting, he’d just ignored it.

Except for today, so when y/n pretended not to see Tom, he decided to approach Maddison. And as usual, she flirted, and Tom did answer this time, side-eying y/n as he was subtly touching Mad’s shoulder.

Y/N hadn’t looked up. Not once. And he noticed she looked tired.

“Hey, we should get lunch together today,” Tom slipped, loud enough for y/n to hear him. That’s when he noticed a change in her body. She didn’t look up, only eyed him quickly and then sucked in her cheeks. She took a deep breath but then continued her texting.

And he got her.

But that didn’t last long, because Timothée had arrived, and that’s when she’d looked up. He’d approached y/n, and it was slightly awkward. But he was so close to her. And her sight had turned soft, so soft when she’d stared at him. Tom could only clench his jaw and look back at Maddie.

He decided to ignore it and walk in after the choreographer had. Tom tried staying close to the door as he warmed up, either trying to show off or listen to the conversation y/n was having with Tim.

“Tom we are about to start.”

He turned and had to have his arms around Maddie now, that’s when y/n had slightly turned to him. But y/n was already smiling at something Timothee had said. Tom kept staring outside but the choreographer closed the door, and now he could barely see y/n from the window on the door.

Tom turned around so he could be more subtle, staring at the reflection on the mirror. And they started to dance, they were going to use some songs from Dirty Dancing, a subtle reference the director wanted to give out. Tom listened and tried to focus, the choreographer and director gave them notes.

But he couldn’t concentrate, his eyes were glued to her and Timothée. Tim’s green eyes always on her, and her cheeks up and curved. They were dancing, outside, mimicking Tom’s and Maddie’s movements.

Tom didn’t understand why it bothered him that much that Timothee was always dancing with her. Always. Dancing. Jumping. Perfectly. It reminded him of old times, at parties usually, when y/n would be singing along with Timothee as they danced.

But this was even worse because they were not dating and they were there doing it for fun. Besides, y/n looked gorgeous so stunning.

Those pair of high waisted jeans and that stupid white shirt. It was driving Tom insane as Tim and y/n were sillying around.

He hated how he made her smile. And besides, he was boiling up over the fact they’d kissed. And Tom had seen them outgrown the awkwardness? What had Timothee done to outgrow such an awkward subject? They’d kissed, that was worse.

He’d seen them talk. At first, he had said hello and he had stared into her eyes. And that was it?

And y/n had barely looked Tom in the eye.

Tom had to keep on focused, but he barely could. Maddie was not interesting enough and honestly, it bothered him seeing Tim’s slick fingers on y/n’s waist as she laughed. But then they stayed quiet as they watched them dance. They eventually weren’t even paying attention.

Tom continued dancing and trying to memorize it but he couldn’t. He couldn’t move, there was no rhythm in his body. And somehow he saw Tim getting closer, and closer, and he didn’t know because the reflection could be lying but he’d seen Timothée kiss y/n’s cheek. And Tom felt his whole body warm-up with jealousy and his head aching. And he felt as if the world was turning. He didn’t know what happened until a loud thud was heard and Maddie was on the floor and Tom was seeing blurry, on the floor, as well.

He was sweating, and he was nauseous. He had to stop to pinch the bridge of his nose.

“What the fuck, Tom?” Maddie complained

“I… I don’t know, I…” He was dizzy. He hadn’t slept, he hadn’t had anything for breakfast and adding this whole jealousy thing probably hadn’t helped him, at all. “I don’t feel okay.”

Y/N had run into the room, and over to Tom, who weakly sat up. Tim ran behind her..

“Tom, are you okay?”

Maddie frowned. “I’m on the floor, too, you know?”

“Yes, but he’s the one who almost fainted,” y/n sassed as she cupped Tom’s face. “Here, drink some water and… Can we bring in some sugar? His blood pressure is probably down.”

“You’re a doctor now, y/n?” Tom mocked, earning a glare from her.

“How do you feel?” she asked.

“I don’t know, tired, okay?” Tom answered, Timothée was only looking at y/n. He looked away, as y/n handed him the bottle of water.

The director watched him. “You think you can continue with this?”

“Yes, just give me ten minutes.”

“Ten minutes? I need the whole day to rest, you dropped me, now I’m sore,” Maddison complained. “Besides you weren’t even focused,” she continued as she stood up. “I’ll be doing it tomorrow”

Tom watched her leave as the director sighed. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah, sorry, I… y/n’s probably right I need some sugar,” Tom admitted.

The choreographer nodded. “Yeah, don’t worry, I’ll… I’ll work with the other dancer while you rest a bit.”

“Give me a bit and I’ll try rehearsing it by myself,” Tom added.

The director nodded. “Yeah, we can’t waste more time, besides we already have to shoot that scene from two days ago, and we… can’t waste more time. You,” he pointed at Timmy. “Get the other dancers, I think they’re here today, so we will go to the other room and they’ll be... “ He ran a hand through his hair. “Just gather them in room 5.”

Timmy nodded, glanced at y/n and then left.

The director turned to y/n.

“I’ll take care of him, and make sure he rehearses,” she assured him.

Tom squeezed his eyes shut and then crawled his way to lay his back against the mirror.

“Did you sleep last night?” Y/N asked as she stood up, crossing her arms above her chest watching him.

“No,” he answered.

“I didn’t either, some weirdo called me at 4 am,” she scoffed, making Tom chuckle.

“Well, that weirdo had stayed up until then,” Tom admitted. “And then he didn’t sleep after that.”

Y/N scoffed as she sat down beside him. “Is that the reason why you were failing at every dance step?”

“Hey,” Tom nudged her.

“You’re usually good, but today you sucked,” she pointed out, laughing.

He rolled his eyes as he ran a hand through his hair. “Maybe.”

“And you have a terrible dance partner,” y/n added. “She’s too overwhelming.”

Tom chuckled. “She is?”

“Total diva, you shouldn’t go out for lunch with her,” she pointed out, looking away.

Tom smirked. “Oh.”

She coughed. “Yeah, no, not her,” she cleared her throat.

Tom clenched his jaw. “Well, I had asked a better girl to go out for lunch and she declined the offer.”

“Bummer,” she shrugged. “But she probably had her reasons.”

Tom nodded.

They stayed quiet for a while, Tom not knowing what exactly he should tell her. He knew he’d fucked up with her by calling her last night. But still, he wanted to keep fighting? How interesting was this that even after she’d shown him her worst side he was still in love with her?

He gave it a thought. Why did she love Timmy? What did they do together that made her happy? And he understood. Dancing. She always danced with Timmy.

“Can you help me out?” He asked.

“Hm?” She frowned.

“Yes, with the choreography, I need a better dancing partner and I still need to--”

“I’m an awful dancer,”she pointed out.

“Yes, but I’m good at leading, I just need to hold someone.”

Y/N hesitated but stood up. “Alright.” She offered him a hand. “But you’re better now, right?”

He took her hand and then plugged in the music.

“I love they’re using dirty dancing,” she commented.

He grinned as he walked over to her, placing her hands on her hips. “Okay so, let me lead, no no,wait,” he chuckled as he tried moving her.

“I don’t dance, Tom,” she reminded him.

“Okay, wait,” he took her hands instead. “Just, trust me, okay? Let me lead, help me out,” he said before moving her back and forth, as the music started her clumsy feet stepping on him. “y/n, don’t step on me,” he chuckled, as he looked her in the eyes. “Look at me… Two three four, two three four, loosen up your hips,” he instructed as his hand landed on it, let it roll, yes, a bit less hard.”

“I suck.”

“You do,” he grinned. “Now, okay, shoulders down, don’t lean back,” he commented, as his hands were now on her waist. “Okay okay, don’t be too harsh y/n,” he commented as she pushed her hips forward. “It’s… ‘ve seen you move, and you can be softer.”

She blushed as she nudged him. “Tom, hey, no, this won’t work.” She pushed him away.

“No, you’re doing good,” Tom grinned as he pulled her back in. “Okay, don’t put your heel down, feel the music and let me,” he chuckled as she was barely loosening up and then leaning closer to him. “Okay, okay, not that much, this is your dance space,” he pushed her back, as he opened up her arms. “And this is mine, alright?” He showed her. “We’re dancing not… Other stuffing.”

She rolled her eyes with a smirk as he kept dancing with her. They weren’t really following the choreography but this rather seemed like Tom was trying to show her how to properly dance. Not jump around like she did with Timothée. And she seemed to enjoy it, but Tom was getting nervous, this was definitely not what he’d expected to have from their last conversation. But y/n was giving in.

“I’m going to spin you around,” Tom explained. “And it’s gonna be quick okay, the key for this is, don’t look around, try to find the spot, which are my eyes,”he commented as he stared down at her. She looked him in the eyes, in her very particular way of looking into eyes, first staring into one then the other. “And when I spin you, try to find my eyes again, alright?” Tom had turned softer.

‘Love is strange’ started playing.

She had only smiled as he then proceeded to spin her, once, twice, three times and her eyes went back to his but she was dizzy anyway as she let out a laugh, almost falling to his arms.

“I’m the worst dancer.”

“Okay, that wasn’t bad,” Tom laughed. “But, we’re doing it again, remember, find your spot,” he reminded her. She stopped, just slightly, now her hands were on his face, cupping it.

He gulped. “Alright? You found your… spot?” As her breath fanned his, his heart beating faster as she stared at her.

She stared down at his lips. “Yeah,” she whispered.

He spun her again, and then she managed to bring him down to the floor. He only laughed as his hands landed on her hips.

“Sorry,” she gulped as she quickly stood up. Tom watched her from the floor. They kept on laughing.

“Oh, that song,” Y/N coughed awkwardly. “Now I remember that scene,” she mocked as she tried to move her hips. She rolled her eyes.

Y/N laughed. “Sylvia,” she chanted just as the song was playing.

“Yes, lover b-girl” Tom mocked.

“No, no I’m not doing this.” She turned around.

“How do you call your lover boy?” The song sang.

Tom laughed. “Come here, lover girl.”

“And if he doesn’t answer?” The song continued.

“Oh lover girl,” Tom sang louder, watching y/n blush looking away.

“No,” y/n said.

“And if he still doesn’t answer?” The song continued.

“I say,” Tom grinned. “Baby, oh baby” he crawled over to her as she tried to push him away.

“Tommy.”

He managed to pull her down to her knees to bring him to his sight. “My sweet baby,” Tom sang to her as he wrapped his arms around her, now the soft spot he’d had for her gone and filled with lust.

“You’re the one,” he whispered to her, as his eyes turned darker watching her.

She only blushed as she wrapped her arms around his neck as his hands made her move her hips, slightly moving down his hands to cup her eyes. His eyes travelled down from her lips to her neck as he nuzzled down to her breasts, but she pushed his head back up to her face.

And it seemed Tom had forgotten he’d almost fainted as his lips arrived on hers, combining his lust with her sweet lips as the song was merely a background.

And they were too busy to know that someone had seen them through the window of the door. But you know, when you’re in love, you believe in lies. And Timmy really wished this one was a lie.

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