#every night i make these posts and every morning my dear and darling friends Pretend They Do Not See It

[starbuck]

that reviewer who complained that the one dude’s “subplot went nowhere” clearly missed the five minute long scene of him having freaky and thematically coherent sex with the main guy which i hallucinated

[comfyswitcherblanketfort]

please please a part 2 of that gamer!geralt au, them doing something like Q&A

Nonie, I hope you know what you signed up for. This got out of hand lmao. like 2.4k of Q&A kind of out of hand. 

Warnings: swearing, talk of drinking to excess, kinda spicy questions, lil kisses, idk how but I meant for this to be goofy and horny and it got kinda soft? what’s new?

____________

“Holy shit,” Geralt sat staring at his phone as he mindlessly stirred pasta.

“I swear to god, if you found a way to burn noodles-” Jaskier turned away from the blender to wave a wooden spoon covered in pesto puree.

Geralt shook his head and held his phone up to him, scrolling through the replies to a tweet as he did, going on for ages as Jaskier’s jaw slowly got closer to the floor.

“What are those for?!”

“I put up a poll for a boyfriend Q&A or a game review and not a single person has voted for the game review.” Geralt was still scrolling through questions people wanted answered as he watched Jaskier’s face go from shock to confusion to a smug grin. 

“They love me,” he sang, kicking his heel up as he turned back to the pasta sauce.

Geralt rolled his eyes and started screenshotting some of the less invasive questions, shaking his head and muttering, “Course they do.”

-

Geralt pressed record, waited a moment, and heaved a dramatic, long-suffering sigh, “You guys literally didn’t even give me a choice on this one,” he reached off frame and scruffed Jaskier, plopping him down on the couch with him. 

Jaskier didn’t stay where he was put for even a moment, using his momentum to bounce up onto Geralt’s lap with a shit-eating grin, “Oh? Are we rolling?”

Geralt dropped his forehead to Jaskier’s shoulder, stifling a laugh, “This is gonna be a long one.”

“Yeah, it is,” Jask agreed, then turned to the camera, stroking Geralt’s hair, “My fans want more!”

“OH-kay,” Geralt manhandled Jaskier to sit next to him which earned him a pout and a leg draped over his lap as he continued his intro, “I’ve got a bunch of questions from twitter. I didn’t even have to confirm which video we would do, you guys just went straight for the kill. I picked a few, Jask picked a few, neither of us knows which ones the other picked.” he turned to see Jaskier wiggle his eyebrows at the camera, “Why am I thinking you picked the raunchy ones?”

The brunet pretended to be offended before he smirked, “Only a few.”

Geralt rolled his eyes. “Of course,” he nudged Jask with his shoulder and opened up his phone to his screenshots, “Okay! First up is AdamSandlersBitch, nice name. They asked what Jaskier’s favorite gaming console and game to play is.” he turned to Jaksier with raised eyebrows.

His boyfriend cringed, “My.. my phone? I don’t know? I play a lot of Candy Crush while I listen to podcasts?”

Geralt smiled sweetly, “Wait what about Stardew Valley? I thought you started that?”

“I did!” Jaskier brightened up for a moment before he deflated again, “But I got confused and then the ADHD made me bake cookies.”

“Those were good cookies. I’ll play with you if you want?” Geralt’s normal ‘streamer dude’ persona melted away while he played with the rips on Jaskier’s jeans. 

Jask leaned forward and kissed his temple, “I’d love that.” 

Geralt blushed, even after years, Jaskier’s affection still caught him off guard. 

“Mkay! My turn!” Jaskier flashed his devilish grin and read, in his most obnoxious voice, “Dwn2Clwn said ‘do you two live together? Have you said ‘i love you’? And who tops?’”

Geralt’s mouth twisted into an upside-down U as he stared at Jaskier in muted surprise, “Honestly, not as bad as I expected.”

Jaskier looped his arm around Geralt’s, “I’m starting off easy.”

Geralt let his mock-disapproving gaze linger just a bit before he answered, “The living together is kind of new-like a few months. This one said ‘I love you’ on, what? The fourth date? Fifth?”

“Fourth.”

“No, it was the fifth, Eskel locked himself out on the fourth. Remember?”

“Shit you’re right,” Jaskier gave the camera a stern look, “In my defense, we’d been friends for a good four years before this. I wasn’t just confessing my love to a tinder date - though I have done that before.”

Geralt nodded, “That was very amusing.”

Jaskier tapped his nose, “Don’t avoid the last part, darling.”

Geralt huffed and stared down the camera, and, in the most matter of fact tone possible, said, “We switch. Compromise, folks. Can’t have one person doing all the work all the time.”

Jaskier nodded sagely, patting Geralt's chest, “We got a pow-”

Geralt clamped his hand over Jaskier’s mouth, 100% sure he was going to say ‘power bottom pillow princess’, “Nope. I’ll get demonetized for that.”

“But not who tops?” Jaskier asked through Geralt’s fingers.

He just shrugged, “I don’t make the rules.”

Jaskier tapped his phone and raised his eyebrows, telling him to move to the next question. 

“Mis- Mischanication? Shit I hope I said that right, Mischanication asked, ‘would you ever get a pet together?’ We did! Her name is Roach and she’s a little shit! I told Jaskier not to feed her, but he did, now we have the snuggliest, crankiest cat I’ve ever met!” 

Jaskier had gotten up to pluck Roach from her perch on the windowsill when Geralt had read the question and plopped down with her as Geralt finished his proud speech, “She’s not a little shit! She’s just delicate! Isn’t that right, darling?”

Geralt scratched under her chin and cooed, “You are a nasty little dragon baby, aren't you?! Just a little garbage child! Yes, you are. We love the tiny demon beast.”

“Geralt!”

He snickered and kissed Jaskier’s hair, “Next question, love.”

Jaskier grumbled something about positive reinforcement as Roach scampered back to her cat tree and he unlocked his phone for his next tweet, “This darling wants to remain anonymous,” Geralt gave him some serious side-eye at that, “they said ‘I think I’m in love with the flower twink, where can I find one of my own?’”

Geralt frowned at the camera and pulled Jaskier onto his lap, holding him close and snuggling into his chest, almost growling, “Hands off.”

Jaskier giggled, brushing Geralt’s hair out of his face as he talked to the camera, “You heard the man. Unfortunately, I was not mass-produced and I’ve been spoken for.”

Geralt looked up at him with what could only be called suspicious puppy eyes, “You picked that one just to sit in my lap didn’t you?”

“Yes. And because I want to change my socials to ‘flower twink’.” 

“Do it,” Geralt kept Jaskier on his lap as he swiped to his next question, “Eggsfuckingsuck - heh, my dad hates eggs- Eggsfuckingsuck says, ‘what is the most embarrassing thing you’ve caught each other doing/saying?’ Oh boy, do I have a story for you!”

"Oh I couldn't say the thing but you can tell this story!?" 

"...you have a point... Check my insta stories. I'll put it there after I post this." 

Jaskier nodded, ever so pleased, and turned to the camera, "Our dear Yennefer of sorceryglammour once beat Geralt at trivia night when the theme was 'video games'." 

“We did shots before we went to the bar and she goaded me and Lambert into a chugging competition before the round started. I’m telling you, she planned this. Yen is ruthless.” Geralt desperately tried to justify his defeat but Jaskier was having none of it. 

“She’s mostly harmless, plus I have video evidence from that night. You weren’t that far gone.”

“Pull it up! Let’s settle it.”

Jaskier patted Geralt’s head like one would a toddler, “I’d have to get my old laptop out. Later, darling.”

Geralt had a smug look on his face, “That means he doesn’t have it anymore.”

“Next question!” Jaskier squeaked, not at all changing the subject. 

Geralt shrugged, “If you admit I won that one.”

“It’s not a competition!” Jaskier laughed, looking down at him with that stupidly smitten look on his face.

“Hmmm…” Geralt tilted his chin up defiantly, “if you say so.”

Jaskier kissed him, lingering a little bit more than could be considered chaste, “I do.” 

Geralt looked up at him, batting his eyelashes, “Fine then, next question.”

Jaskier handed him his phone and he read it off leaning his head on Jaskier’s shoulder, “CountryBumpkin42 asked if we play any instruments. I play the recorder very poorly, but Jask plays everything.”

“Not everything, but yes, I could cover a Trans Siberian Orchestra song if I had a pedalboard with enough loop settings.” Jaskier preened. 

“And more,” Geralt added, counting on his fingers as he spoke, “In this house alone he has two pianos, three different types of guitars, a drumset, a violin and fiddle, a flute and piccilo, an oboe, a mandolin, a lute, bongos, saxophone, clarinet, tambourine, trumpet, and xylophone. Did I get them all?”

Jaskier glanced from side to side with a guilty look, “Ah… no, I bought a bass sax that showed up last night.”

“Oh, did Thursday at 3 decide they wanted to switch after all?”

“Yeah! She got the third chair as a freshman on a loaner instrument! I’m very proud!”

Geralt seemed to remember they were recording and turned back to the camera, “J teaches music at the university and does private lessons.” 

“It’s how I can afford such a pretty trophy boyfriend,” Jaskier teased, ruffling Geralt’s hair and earning a little chuckle.

“Mkay, what do you have next?”

Jaskier smoothed Gearalt’s hair back down as he read the next question, “3R4108F6!J asks if we have any cute nicknames for each other.”

Geralt’s eyebrows nearly flew past his hairline, “J has a new one for me almost every day.”

“Its true,” Jaskier nodded, “I am a slut for cute nicknames. This morning was Ger Bear, one of my faves. I called him Thumbs for a bit, I lovingly call him Dumb Fuck rather often.”

“And he is Dip Shit, it’s balanced. I usually just shorten names? Jask or J is usually it, right?” Geralt asked, shifting so Jaskier was sitting on the couch between his legs and they were both turned out toward the camera but very much still cuddling. 

“And when I’m being childish I get Alfie. But Geralt is much more deliberate and specific with his nicknames. It’s a bit of a friendship level up when he uses nicknames.”

Geralt frowned at him, “I do that?”

Jaskier giggled, “You never noticed?”

He tilted his head, giving Jaskier a quizzical look, “Not at all.”

Jaskier cupped Geralt’s cheek, “You’re so cute.”

Geralt blushed again, leaning into the touch just a tad, “Who’s turn is it?”

“Yours,” Jaskier hummed, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead. 

“Okay,” Geralt blushed even more, “I had this one as an alternate, but uh, Yen asked what we’d name our first kid?” 

Jaskier leaned into Geralt’s shoulder and hummed as he thought for a moment, “I always like Blake or Spencer, but I seem to remember you saying something about old world traditional names?”

Geralt nodded, absentmindedly running his fingers up and down Jaskier’s arm, “My grandma was hoping each of us boys would be a girl and wanted mum to name us Cirilla every time. I quite like it, but I’m rather open as long as I don’t know someone with the name. I really like Eric?” 

“Oo, I like Eric.”

“But you like the neutral names.”

“I do, but it’s your hypothetical kiddo too.”

Geralt gave him a little squeeze, “There’s time for that later. What’s your next one?”

Jaskier snorted when he looked at his phone, “What are your guys’ love languages?”

Geralt just looked down at Jask, completely entangled in his arms, then up to the camera, “I’m gonna hazard a guess at physical touch.” 

“Yeah, I think that’s a safe bet,” Jaskier giggled, “I haven’t taken the quiz in years, but I was that and gifts.”

“Oh, yeah. Physical touch and words of affirmation. I got like a 0 on acts of service and gifts, but I really like giving gifts.” 

“Mhm, yes you do,” Jaksier wiggled his eyebrows, then turned to the camera, “I also had no idea you could have different giving and receiving languages till I met this one.”

Geralt nodded then turned to him with a slight frown, “you know I really thought your questions were going to be more graphic.”

“Oh, honey I saved the best for last,” Jaskier winked. 

“Fuck me,” Geralt grumbled before reading off his last question, “Cali852 asked what we did for Pride.”

Jaskier’s eyes lit up, “Oh Pride was fun. We watched the parade, of course, then Yen did our makeup and… and where did we go after that?”

Geralt looked like he’d been waiting for this, “We went to a club, where you ordered three kamakazis, knocked them all back, danced for twenty minutes, then I took you home.”

“N-no… we went to the beach, didn’t we?”

“That was the year before. We were going to go to the drag show at our regular bar too, but someone had just finished grading finals and went a little too hard.” 

Jaskier grinned, “Speaking of finals, time for the last question. I had a different one in mind but if the thing I cant say from earlier would get this demonetized then that defintitelyi would. So we’re going with ‘what is the wackest placy y’all banged?’”

Geralt snorted, “Shit who knows anymore?”

“Well there was the boat?”

“Or the train?”

“Nah, too standard. What about the cabin?”

“Heh, no I think your o-”

“I don’t have tenure darling,” It was Jaskier’s turn to slap his hands over Geralt’s mouth, “The answer is a dilapidated structure my parents still try to call a cabin out in the foothills.”

Geralt laughed and pulled his hand away, “Okay, that can be the answer.”

“Is that it? Now we just say bye?” Jaskier looked between Geralt and the camera.

Geralt shrugged, “Yeah. You wanna say the thing?”

Jaskier wiggled with a little pride and excitement, “Don’t forget to like and subscribe! Bye Fuckers!”

They both waved for a couple seconds before Geralt got up and turned the camera off. He popped out the memory card and was going to immediately start loading it onto his computer but Jask hooked his finger through a belt loop as he walked past and tugged him back down. 

“I’m tired. Snuggle with me.” 

Geralt hummed, “We just snuggled that whole time.”

Jaskier heaved a dramatic sigh, “I know and this is exhausting. I don’t know how you talk to a camera all day.”

Geralt stretched to set the chip on top of his laptop before collapsing back on top of Jaskier who had stretched the length of the couch, “Are you making fun of me?” he teased. 

Jaskier cupped his face between his hands and pulled him up for a deep kiss, “Oh never.” 

[aestheticallyholland]

NEVER NOT | THE DATE . . .

❃ PAIRING tom holland x fem!reader

❃ DISCLAIMER i do not own the artists (and the reader) that are going to portray the characters, but i do own some of the their names. the plot of the story is inspired to the book and movie 'to all the boys i've loved before' but with changes. the gifs and photos used in this series are edited by me but i get credits to the originals. also, this series is first posted in wattpad by me. PLEASE DO NOT REPOST IT SOMEWHERE ELSE !

❃ WORD COUNT 3.2k words

WANNA BE ON THE TAGLIST? feel free to comment on this post if you wanna be added to this series' taglist to get notified for updates !

NEVER NOT MASTERPOST | LEI'S LIBRARY

"Sometimes, the more you get to know a person, the more attractive they become." — anonymous

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

IT HAS BEEN THREE WEEKS since Tom and Y/N made a deal to pretend as a couple. Who would have thought that they would actually last a week?

As usual, Y/N did her morning routine during school days. Waking up, taking a bath, eating and going out of the house.

She ate the last piece of bread and cleaned up the table before going out of the house.

"Dad! I'm going now!" Y/N exclaimed to her dad who was still upstairs.

"Take care, darling!" He replied back that made Y/N smile before closing the door behind her. She adjusted her bag and walked going to school.

She sang some of the lyrics of never not by Lauv as she was walking until someone suddenly interrupted her and made her startle.

"Morning, love!" A familiar voice suddenly said and that made her almost fall.

"Holland! You twat." Y/N scolded him and that just made him laugh at her.

"Didn't know you had an angelic voice." He said and grinned at her. That made her cheeks blush and felt embarrassed when he heard her sing. No one has ever heard her sing except for her family and Erika.

"H-how did you-" Then she gasped. "You really are a stalker." She teased him remembering that she called him that before.

"Hey! I just want to walk with my girlfriend." He said. All of a sudden, Y/N's heart suddenly pounded so hard the moment he said that. It's as if they were really together as a couple.

No. No. No. No, Y/N. Stop it!

"Whatever, Holland." She asked and flipped her hair and continued walking. Tom just chuckled at her act and jogged towards her to catch up.

"Wait up, babe." He said and that made Y/N roll her eyes.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Going lunch with the one and only Tom Holland was far different from when it was only Y/N and Erika. Y/N was with her boyfriend's group of friends and that made her feel out of place.

As they were laughing and talking, Y/N just sat there awkwardly, not saying anything until she felt an arm around her shoulders that startled her. Tom was already noticing that Y/N was out of place so he did what he had to do.

"Are you okay, babe?" He asked with a concerning face and that made her smile at him.

"Yes, Tom. I just feel out of place." She whispered it so that his friends wouldn't hear.

"I'll make it up to you later." He said. "How about a date after school?" He asked her.

"Well, dating wasn't in the contract so-"

"Stop thinking about the contract for a while." He said. "Consider this as a two-week anniversary. My treat."

Y/N felt a slight blush coming from her cheeks but she shrugged it off and roll her eyes on him, playfully. "Alright, Holland." She smiled at him and he made an expression of joy.

"Hey, Y/N!" She heard Harrison called her and she looked at him with a 'what?' expression.

"Would you slap Tom for 100 dollars?" He joked and that made the other laugh at him except for Tom who just glared at his best mate.

"Shut it, Osterfield." Y/N heard Tom said.

"Who said that I wouldn't?" Y/N joked back and that made his friends laugh more. Tom looked at her like how he glared at Harrison and that made her smile at him wide.

"I'm kidding babe." She said and kissed him on his cheek which caused his friends to tease both of them.

"Shut it, you dweeb."

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

"Hey, Aria. I won't be having dinner with you guys today, if you don't mind. I'm going out with Tom to have dinner together." Y/N said through her phone on her ear.

"My sister is all grown up." She started and Y/N could hear her squeal from the phone. "Of course, I'll let dad know."

"Thank you, Sis."

"And remember, stay protected!" That was what her sister said. When Y/N got what it meant, she was about to scold Aria but instead, the call had already ended.

"Why are people acting so weird today?" She asked herself as she kept her phone to her pocket until she heard her best friend's voice calling her from the hallway.

"Y/N!" She looked at where the voice was coming and saw Erika running towards her with a paper on her hand.

"Erika!" Y/N called back and Erika reached her and she panted at first from running.

"Why the hell were you running?" Y/N asked as Erika was trying to catch her breath.

"Maybe I should go back to track and field again. Damn, my back hurts when I run." Erika said and stretched her back. "But anyway!"

"I got an A+ for the first time of my life, Y/N!" She squealed and showed the paper that she was holding to Y/N's face. "See!"

Y/N got startled when Erika suddenly shove the paper to her face. "Oh my god, how did you do that?" Y/N asked while scanning through the paper.

"It's called, luck!" Erika exclaimed which caused people to look at her but of course, she doesn't care. "Anyways! Do you want to go somewhere after this?" She asked as she kept her test paper on her bag.

"Tom already asked me out for dinner," Y/N said and that made Erika put her hand on her chest.

"Are you ditching me for him?" Erika asked in a dramatic way and Y/N could just chuckle. "I'm kidding! Go have fun and stay protected."

Y/N glared at her. "I'm not going to do it with him!" She said and that made Erika laugh.

Erika saw someone behind Y/N and smirked. "There's your prince charming. I better go. Enjoy your date, lovebirds!"

Y/N turned around only to meet chocolate eyes looking at her. She smiled at him and walked towards him. He smiled back at her as he stopped walking and just looked at her.

How did she get this pretty? He asked himself.

What the hell, Tom? Another voice asked and he shrugged if off.

"Ready to go?" He asked her.

"Where are we going through?" She asked and they walked together going outside.

"To the restaurant you told me that you and your dad would go." He told her and his eyes widen.

"The last time I went there was a month ago." She said.

"And that's about to change." He said and placed an arm around her as they head towards his car.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

It was past six in the evening when they've arrived in the restaurant. Y/N was too excited that when Tom parked his car, she suddenly went out first. She was so ready to eat whatever they're going to order.

This place was full of memories for her.

"Relax, Y/N." She heard Tom say and closed the door to his car to go to her

"I missed this place." She said. "Let's go!" She grabbed his hand and went inside the restaurant.

As they went inside, she could feel the good old vibes that she felt since she first went here with her parents. She looked around and saw a familiar face on the counter.

"Aunt Mary!" She greeted and the lady looked up from the counter. She squinted her eyes to see who it really was.

"Y/N?" She called back and Y/N nodded and walked towards her aunt. She wrapped her arms around her aunt and have a loving hug.

"How are you, my dear?" Aunt Mary asked.

"I'm alright. School is just driving me crazy." Y/N answered and she felt Tom going beside her.

"And who is this young man?" Her aunt asked.

"This is Tom Holland. My—"

"Her boyfriend, Ma'am." He interrupted Y/N with a smile and shook hands with her Aunt.

"My little girl is grown up, oh my." She answered. "Since when, dear?"

"Just two weeks ago, Auntie," Y/N answered.

"Well, I won't disturb you on your date tonight." Aunt Mary teased and turned to Y/N. "The usual, dear?" She asked and took out a pen and pad paper.

"Yes, please," Y/N said.

"How about you, Tom?" She turned to Tom to ask for his order.

"I would like some burger and just soda, please." He said.

"Alright. The usual table is waiting for you Y/N. And the jukebox is there too." Aunt Mary said and Y/N got excited once more.

"Thank you, Auntie," Y/N said and held Tom free hand and head towards the usual table that they use whenever they go in the restaurant.

Y/N sat down and Tom sat down in front of her. He noticed a small jukebox that was on their table.

"Are there jukeboxes in every table here?" He asked and observed the jukebox.

"Not all actually." She said. "When I was a kid, we would go here most of the time and it just happened that Aunt Mary works here."

"Is she like a relative or something?"

"She's my mom's best friend actually since their high school years." She answered. "So she's like my second mother."

"That explains why you're close." He said and looked at Y/N as she tugged her hair to her ear.

"She was the one who took care if me and Aria when my mom passed away. My dad became depressed for a few years because of that and couldn't concentrate on taking care of us."

Y/N could remember her dad becoming depressed when their mother died. He started to drink every night and she would usually catch him crying in his room with a bottle of wine on the floor.

"Your dad really loves your mom." Tom interrupted Y/N's thoughts.

"He does, really." She said and sighed while looking around the restaurant, how people and families are eating happily together. "There are so many memories in this restaurant."

"Like?" He asked.

"This is where my dad met my mom when she was still working here for a part-time job with Aunt Mary." She started. "My mom was a hard to get girl even though she started developing feelings for my dad." She chuckled at the thought.

"Your dad's a fighter then," Tom said and chuckled.

"Indeed, he was." She said and smiled. "They went on dates here until Aria and I was born."

"I wish I met your mom honestly," Tom said.

Y/N just looked at Tom and smiled. She likes that he was just listening to her and he liked that about guys.

She placed her head on her hands and just looked at him. "You're a good listener, eh?" She asked and Tom just chuckled.

"Indeed I am."

Y/N was about to ask something when she got interrupted by Aunt Mary's voice going towards them.

"Your orders are here!" She said with trays on her hands and she placed then down their table.

"Enjoy your date, darlings." Aunt Mary said before going away from them.

"Thank you, Auntie," Y/N said and Tom just smiled at her aunt.

They started to eat their respective food and Y/N was enjoying herself until she remembered what she wanted to ask Tom a while ago.

"How many girls have you been with before Camille?" She asked as she at her fries and looking at him.

He paused for a while to look back to the past. "Two actually, but the first one was like not an official relationship. We just both liked each other until it faded." He answered. "And the second girl was the first girl that I had an official relationship with until things got out of hand that I'd rather not talk about." He ate one of his fries before he continued talking. "Then there was Camille whom I've been with for almost two years."

"I didn't know both of you lasted that long," Y/N said. She only heard about the both of them when they were upcoming seniors and she couldn't believe that Camille finally got the one she had a crush on when they were still in middle school.

And the fact that she hated me because I got to have my first kiss with Tom was just unbelievable. Y/N thought to herself.

"I thought she was worth it until she broke it off," Tom said and looked down. Y/N looked at him with awe and placed her hand on top of his. Tom looked at her and he saw her smile at him.

"I'm starting to get over it though." He said and Y/N just giggled. "That's a good thing, right?" She asked.

"Yep. I like hanging out with you better." He said while taking a bite of his burger.

And that made her heart skip a beat. She felt her cheeks heated. "R-really?"

"Of course." He said with his strong British accent.

She shrugged off the feeling that she felt and tried to change the subject.

"The best part of this restaurant is the jukebox," Y/N said and looked at the jukebox that was on their table. "Do you have a coin with you?" She asked him.

He looked for a coin on his pocket until he felt a tiny circle and got it out. "Here." He handed her the coin.

Y/N got the coin from him and inserted it on the jukebox. She pressed the button where the music will start to play and it was perfect timing that the song that was playing Bring It On Home To Me by Sam Cooke.

"Oh my god. This is my parents' song!" She said in a happy way and looked at Tom. "They used to dance this together when they come here." She said and had an idea. She stood up from her seat and Tom looked at her with confusion.

"What are you doing?" He asked and chuckled.

"Dance with me." She said and grinned.

"Really, Y/N?" He asked her and she nodded.

"Come on!" She insisted and grabbed both of his hands to pull him up from his seat. When he stood up, he placed his arms around her waist and Y/N placed her arms around his neck.

"This is nice." That was what Tom could only say when they were swaying around while holding each other. Y/N smiled at him and felt his shyness to dance. "The people won't mind, Tom. Don't be shy." She whispered in her ear.

"Who said that I was?" He asked and Y/N laughed.

"I can read your face, Holland." She said and they continued to dance until the song came to an end. She placed her head on his chest and could hear his heartbeats.

It was beating fast. She thought but she didn't mind it.

After the song ended, Tom guided her back to her seat like a gentleman. He sat back in front of her and was ready to go.

"I'll just pay the bills to your Aunt. I'll be right back." He said.

"I'll wait for you outside," Y/N said and got her stuff and went out of the restaurant first.

When she was outside, she looked at Tom was on the counter and was smiling while talking to her aunt like a real boyfriend he was.

It felt like it was a real date rather than a pretend one. From the dancing, to the opening up with each other and everything else. It was natural for them already.

What is this feeling? She asked herself.

She looked back at Tom who was already waving goodbye to her aunt and went out of the restaurant.

"What did my aunt say to you?" Y/N asked him and just chuckled.

"She asked how old I am." He answered and opened the door to his car for Y/N.

"Such a gentleman." She said and went inside the car.

"So where are we going now?" Y/N asked as Tom was driving.

"My house. I want you to meet my family." The moment he said that Y/N felt her hands shaking.

"W-what?" She asked.

"Yup, just for a while then I'll take you home. All of them are free tonight and tomorrow, they'll be busy again." He said.

Y/N just nodded but could still feel nervous. She had never had a boyfriend and now she's going to meet her pretend boyfriend's parents.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

"Good evening, mum," Tom said to the lady in front of him and she looked at him with a smile.

"Hello, Thomas." She said and noticed Y/N beside him. "Who is this lovely young lady?" She asked.

"Y/N Y/L/N. His girlfriend, Ma'am." Y/N said with a smile.

"Please, call me Nikki. I feel old when you call me Ma'am, honestly." She said.

"Mom, we were just here to drop by. I have to drop her off to her house." Tom said.

"Alright. Please drop by here soon, dear." Nikki said while she looked at Y/N. "It would be nice to have lunch or dinner with you sometime."

"I will definitely drop by soon, Nikki. Tom told me you're a great cook." Y/N said with a smile.

Nikki smiled back and wrapped her arms around Y/N to hug. "You're a great lady, Y/N."

"Thank you, Nikki," Y/N replied and pulled away from the hug to go beside Tom.

"We'll be going now, Mum," Tom said.

"Don't go home too late, darling," Nikki told her son.

"I won't!" He replied and led Y/N back to his car. She waved and smiled one last time to his family before going into the car.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Tom parked his car right in front of Y/N's house and turned off the engine. Y/N removed her seatbelt and opened the door to go out and Tom did the same. They walked together towards the front door and stopped when they've reached there.

Y/N turned to face him and gave him a smile. "Thank you for the date, Thomas."

"You're really going to start calling me by that from now on?" He asked and that made Y/N giggle.

"I'm your girlfriend, so yes." She said and giggled more which made Tom smiled at her. He found her so beautiful when she laughs.

"But seriously though." She tugged a hair behind her ear. "Thank you for taking me to that restaurant and for letting me meet your family." She said.

"You deserve it, love," Tom said and Y/N felt a blush when he called her that endearment.

"I'll get going now, Tom." She said and unlocked the front door with her keys and opened it. Before closing, she turned around to look at him once again. "Good night." She smiled.

"See you in school, love." He said and smiled back.

Before she went in, she suddenly went near Tom and pressed her lips to his right cheek. She gave a smile before going inside her house and closed the front door.

Tom was left dumbfounded by the kiss and touched his right cheek like an idiot. He smiled to himself and chuckled because of her cute action. He finally walked towards his car while Y/N watched him through the window and saw him drive away.

She closed the curtain and walked up towards her room with a smile on her face.

❃ TAGLIST @allthisfortommy @kait4073 @lovebittenbyevans @l0ve-0f-my-life @spiitfiires

[your-lips-are-very-red]

St. Vincent x Emma Madden Interview

This is the text from the St. Vincent interview that Emma Madden was asked to not use. Since Miss Madden has decided to take it down, I wanted it to be available somewhere online - in case she manages to get all the cached versions taken down, too. 

SOURCE: https://archive.is/wFkLN

About a fortnight ago I was commissioned to interview St. Vincent, an artist I have been inspired by, impressed by, turned on by, compelled by, curious of, in awe of, occasionally suspicious of—for the better half of a decade. I try not to think about other journalists too much, but St. Vincent has developed a reputation for intimidating us. For her last press cycle, she made her interviewers crawl into a pink box; she would play a pre-recorded message on a tape recorder if a question bored or irked her. I found that quite funny—irresistibly imperious—but I considered it an act of degradation rather than an interesting switch of power. I love famous people but I also find them quite silly, like a Schnauzer wearing a bowtie.

  I didn’t know why, but for around two hours after our call ended, I was reeling with nervous energy. I was vocalising it and trying to get to the other side of it, the way I sing songs when I’m walking through a haunted house. I woke up the next morning with a voice message from the editor who assigned this piece. I am fond of this person and I will not name them. MBC, the team in charge of St. Vincent’s publicity (which is helmed by Barbara Charone, who also works for Madonna, and is considered one of the more powerful and intimidating publicists in the industry) had been on the phone to this editor, demanding the piece be pulled. My editor’s words: “They said she’s terrified of this interview coming out.” The publication didn’t have a leg to stand on.

"Terrified"? That word didn't seem to square. I thought I had done a not-so-good job the night before. I ended the call thinking I hadn’t asked the right questions. St. Vincent and I didn’t feel like a good match in conversation (or at least not in this conversational setup set-up, for which I was given thirty minutes, and continual reminders from the person on St. Vincent’s team, who remained on the call with us, that we’d need to wrap up well in time for St. Vincent’s Instagram Live session with Paul McCartney, which directly followed our interview.) St. Vincent tended to interpret my questions in bad faith. I assumed she believed me to be a Bad Reader; presumptuous, judgemental, simple, anti-curious—all qualities that her latest album ‘Daddy’s Home’, which I’ve interpreted as a counter to the folly, inadequacy and meretriciousness of moral purity—counters. Anyway, she read me wrong. I love Lana Del Rey.

  I got a call from MBC later that morning by a man who sounded quite nervous. I told him I was confused, I asked him what the matter seemed to be. He wasn't totally sure, he said, "she found the interview aggressive." Aggressive? I complimented her and cowed to her and laughed at her jokes. "Well, the message has been passed down a line of many messengers, she might not have actually said that." The man on the phone said that this—one of his artists demanding an interview to be pulled—had never happened to him before. It hadn't happened to me either. I felt annoyed by how easy it was for St. Vincent to kill something I had researched and expected money for. But the interview started to seem valuable to me after I was told that she didn't want it out in the world. "Can we draw a line under this and just kill the piece here?" said the man on the phone.

Below is the full transcript of my interview with St. Vincent (save for a short and-forth about Tool which didn’t make sense when turned into text). My questions are in bold, her responses are in italics.

**for the sake of this post, Madden’s questions are bold and Annie’s answers are not** Hi, how are you? Good how’s it going?

Not too bad. What’s your mood for today? My mood for today, well it’s good, I’m getting on an Instagram Live chat with Paul McCartney in a couple minutes so my mood is a little bit nervous but good.

I’m excited to talk about this album, I think it has a sick sense of humor that I appreciate a lot. I’ve had a really fun time listening to it.

Oh I’m glad, thank you.

I’m sensing there’s kind of a 70s trend at the moment in terms of fashion and the ways some other bands are presenting themselves. Is that something you were anticipating, is that something you feel you belong to, or was it just kind of accidental?

Accidental.

Do you feel bummed about that? No I don’t, I always just kind of do my own thing.

Do you think there’s a reason why people might be inspired by the 70s today? Do you see an analog with our world today and with the 70s? I guess this album is based in 1973, right?

Between ‘71 and ‘76, so post flower children idealism, post the Summer of Love hangover, but pre escapism of gay disco and pre nihilism of punk. Life was bad but music was good, kind of vibe.

Kind of when the trash aesthetic was taking hold, especially by Andy Warhol. Does trash inspire you? Um like literal rubbish?

No like the trash aesthetic, I guess in the PR you call it sleazy, grimy. Yeah but the difference with sleazy is that sleazy tries to present as glamorous but there’s something off, trash is just trash. I don’t know if trash pretends to be anything other.

  Can you have glamour without sleaze? Sure, absolutely. I mean, like the 20s Greta Garbo way, I would say Golden Era Hollywood, I mean behind the scenes it was probably a nightmare but you look at it and it is very genuinely shiny and beautiful.

I love the sitar on this album especially on ‘Down’, the riff is so sick. How did you get to the sitar? Well it’s not a sitar per se, it’s a choral electric sitar guitar and so it was I think George Harrison made them kind of popular in the ‘60s, I think the one I have is from ’67 and it plays like a guitar but it has a resonating body on it so it sounds sitar-esque. It was made very famous in the Steely Dan Do it Again solo.

  I guess the main PR bulletin point of this album is about your dad coming out of jail. Why did you want that to be the main way that people might read this album? More like an entry point, the title Daddy’s Home to me I mean one, it is literal but also it’s funny and cringy and pervy and also I think more than anything kind of refers to my own transformation into Daddy as it were. Yeah it’s probably not anything I would’ve really thrown out there except that it was made public without my consent but I didn’t really get to tell that side of the story and I don’t bring it up for sympathy. It simply is my story, it’s not intended to be indicative of necessarily anything, it’s just my story and I was gonna tell it with humor and compassion, all of that.

Did you anticipate a lack of sympathy for your dad’s crimes and the subject matter of this album and did that factor into how you shaped this record? That’s the tail wagging the dog my dear. No, no. A lack of sympathy, well, which crime would be the most sympathetic? I didn’t do anything, I’m simply writing about something that I think on some level everyone who’s ever had a parent can understand in the sense of you’re often going “How much of you am I?” and we kind of do identity projection through all these things so no, it’s again, it’s not really there for anything other than my own anecdotal story.

At what point did you transform into this daddy character? For how much of your adult life have you been the daddy? Oh I would just say over the past few years, I’ve just been quite a bit more leaned back and shoulder shrug and say let’s just sit down in the old beat up leather armchair and have a tequila and chat it out you know. Life is complicated, human beings are complicated and I wanted to just write stories about flawed people. There’s a whole lot of judgement going around and not a whole lot of understanding. And judgement is anti-curious. There are some people, perhaps the more sanctimonious and morally pure, who might not be interested in an artist’s reflection on their father’s white collar crimes. Do you have much sympathy for those kinds of people? I mean I think I can get sympathy for all people. If that is the reason why they decide not to spend 46 minutes with my work then I’m sure there’s plenty of other work out there for them that they can enjoy that is morally pure. They should find pure work from pure people and enjoy it.

I guess last year’s riots brought abolition towards the mainstream, during the time you were making this record, which is partially about your father’s time in prison. How did that square with your thoughts on prison and the US carceral system? Well I have plenty of thoughts on it, I’m not totally sure how it’s relevant to this.

Well I was wondering if you have a standpoint on it or if you’d rather just be ambiguous? I have so many thoughts and opinions, I don’t presume that my thoughts and opinions are relevant on every subject though. I don’t have that much hubris.

I understand. I was wondering about the Candy Darling inspiration, how does she come into the fold? Oh I just, Candy Darling to me is such a beautiful heroine in that she came from Queens and went not geographically far but worlds away to Manhattan and became her true self and in that particular kind of combination of glamour and toughness, where you feel like her name should be on the marquee and yet she could stick you with a shiv if you said the wrong thing. And I just find her inspiring and really beautiful, and I didn’t know but I found out a friend of mine was close with her and was at her bedside when she died so I was just picturing Candy Darling’s ascent to heaven as taking the final uptown train.

Wow. Did you feel like you were embodying her on this album or presenting as her? No not as such, but definitely taking inspiration from some of her energy for sure. I do hear a bit of her voice on the title track, I was wondering if you were kind of modeling your voice after her? On Daddy’s Home? Oh, no.

I love the sultriness of that song, even though it’s just about signing autographs in prison. I found it really funny. Yeah it’s definitely again, I’m writing about my own story with humor and compassion and self-effacement, all that.

Do you see this album as a movement, does it have a narrative? Yeah. It’s a full story, it’s a full collection of short stories. It has a shape and everything.

That’s just how I listened to this album, as a series of short stories. I was wondering how they interlink in your mind? I guess you have the person on Broadway, you have your dad, you have the person who’s maybe thinking of having a baby or not having a baby. I just could write stories of flawed people doing their best to get by because I’ve been most of the people on this album at one point of my life or another. And again I could write about them without condemnation and judgement just, here we are.

Are you a nostalgic person? No not generally.

Not even during the creation of this album? I’m thinking of the humming tracks, your mum cooking in the kitchen. Not exactly, I think that this particular kind of music with its sophistication and some of the jazz language in the harmony and its sense of time, it was a kind of music that I’d loved for so long but never really dipped into myself, and I think we kind of learn things a lot of times when we’re ready to, and I think I was kind of ready to learn some of the lessons that this kind of music had to teach me.

Do you think about shame a lot? Um, I think that shame is the reason why most people do the violence that they do. I think violence is an expression of impotence.

What was it about the post-idealist era in particular that you were drawn to, why not go through the flower power utopia sort of 60s route? I think that there’s an intellectual orthodoxy that is involved in utopian thinking and a lot of times it doesn’t allow for either a complex set of incentives or it doesn’t allow for the totality of human nature in its equation, and then it fails and because the structure of any kind of power is really complicated so I think in general the desire… and I understand that we’re living in, in some ways, I think just with the internet part of it, in some ways unprecedented times. And I understand people’s desire for certainty in times economic strife, cultural upheaval, all this stuff. I completely understand the desire for certainty. But I don’t think it’s as simple as demanding moral purity and punishing anyone who doesn’t fix the orthodox criteria. I understand the desire but I’m not sure it’s gonna get to where I think we want to be, which is just general more equality, whether it’s wealth equality, wealth disparity, all that kind of stuff I just think the matrices of power are really complicated.

You were saying earlier about Daddy and how you were thinking about your dad and the overlap between you two and how we all possibly become our parents. I was wondering how you consolidate the influences of your parents? I don’t know anything about them obviously but I know that your mum was a social worker, your dad was an entrepreneur, and those seem like two totally opposing worlds. Yes, my mother is a social worker and she instilled in all of us I think the idea that the work we do should be meaningful and she’s definitely really humanistic and that kind of thinking I think, that had an impression on me. My dad wasn’t an entrepreneur, my dad was a stock broker I think? But I grew up with my mom and my stepdad and my stepdad was a very different kind of guy, just was an army brat and grew up really poor, and was just coming from a different mindset and they’re just very different kinds of people. Not a judgement thing, just very different. Yeah my mom definitely errs on the very humble side. And yeah, my dad is a complicated, charismatic person who’s also very intelligent, and who went down a path that was full of consequence. Yeah they’re really, really different people so it’s funny to kind of square who was who.

What does your dad think of this album? Oh he loves it!

Yay, that’s good to know. Did you ever rebel against your dad’s lifestyle growing up as a teenager? I didn’t grow up with him, and he was in Tulsa Oklahoma. I don’t know what lifestyle you’re necessarily presuming but..

No I’m not presuming, just wanted a little background on your relationship with him I guess. So he wasn’t in your life that much where you were younger? I would go and we would spend summers there and Christmas, but I grew up in Dallas for the most part with my mom and my stepdad.

Was this album in any way an opportunity to get closer to your dad? Not in any way consciously, no.

  But are you finding with age and with time you’re getting closer to him? Well him being out of prison helps in terms of just proximity. Yeah, here’s what I’m finding. I’m finding that we live by the stories that we tell ourselves and that sometimes we realize that the story we’ve been telling ourselves for a long time was either wrong or lacked a certain amount of information, and then we have the choice of whether to reject the new information because it’s too painful to rethink the story that we’ve been telling ourselves, or assimilate the new information and go, wow life is complicated, this is an interesting wrinkle. I choose to do the latter.

  Yeah, it’s very easy to bullshit yourself, right? Yeah, it's true in all kind of ways you know?

This story, the story of your dad, it almost seems redemptive. I mean I would say so, and that’s not in any way what I intended and you know, a lot of times when you’re making something, I mean you’re a writer you know, you have the compulsion to make it but you’re not necessarily sure where it’s coming from or why or any of those kind of questions, but I think there is the possibility of redemption, I do, I think there is the possibility of people to change and I think there is a possibility of things like forgiveness and growth. And if I didn’t think that there was a possibility for human beings to change, to grow, to take in new information and then continue to write their story, then I don’t know what we’d really be doing, you know? And that’s not really the world I want to live in, we’re a moving picture we’re not a still photograph.

Do you want to try and change the world, do you feel like you have that power, do you feel hopeful that there can be a better future? Sorry for the cheesy language. No, I mean I don’t think that many people would accuse me of being an optimist in a lot of ways, and I don’t think in terms of my “power to change the world” I mean I think all I can do is try to study the human condition and write about the human condition in some way that resonates and then maybe people will hear that and that will resonate with them and I think that ultimately the best case scenario for music is empathy because it’s like psychologically this is why we like to listen to stories or this is why we like to watch movies is so we can go down the empathy exercise and you can see yourself as that person in the film, see someone who isn’t like you in any way, shape or form from a just box ticking kind of way, but then realize oh, we’re very similar in some ways or what would I do if I was in that situation, we do all these things and we live by these stories and I think those stories well-told can encourage empathy and empathy can go out into the world and have a kind of transformative experience. I don’t really think about, I mean I think once I make a thing and then it’s out in the world and it’s for other people to assimilate or enjoy or not, whatever, however they take it, is absolutely fine by me. But it’s for them, it’s not my place in any way to say how people should or should not enjoy it or assimilate it.

Yeah the reason I brought up prison abolition earlier is because that might be how some people contextualize this album. I would say that that’s one lens. That to me would not be the main lens.

[I’m told to wrap it up]

Yeah let’s wrap up. So Tool cover album next? No, I wish.

Someday I’m hoping. I love Tool.

I feel your Paul McCartney nerves Yeah, I’m gonna go shower.

That’s always a good idea. Okay take care, thank you again for you time Thanks, bye.

[sailingintothenight]

“WANNABE.” T.H. Imagine.

And what if after years of chasing each other like a cat and mouse, you and Tom started to wonder if you wanna be something else in each other's life?

A/N: I am posting a one shot after weeks of writer's block. I hope you like it. It's 9:30 pm in Peru and it's still April 28, so it's still my birthday! Give it a try. Pleaseeeeee! And yes, I borrowed a scene from Mean Girls (Because I loveeee that movie)

“Hello God, it's me again, (y/n). What's up? I know we haven't talked much lately, but, hey, listen, I have a favor to ask you- I have behaved well, I haven’t gotten drunk at any crazy party of any Hollywood star and I haven't accepted drugs, ever: I'm afraid my grandmother will appear in my room as a ghost and pull my blankets in the middle of the night, plus, I haven't make out with any Stone-cold Hollywood hottie, and trust me, I've had more than one chance. Anyway, about the favor–”

"Yes, but (y/n)'s grandfather invited us to his birthday party..."

Tom's voice startles you and cuts off your internal dialogue, turning you back to the reality.

It’s 6 am. The sun shines in the clear sky, and you are on a flight back to England in a luxury privet jet that is about to arrive at the airport, while Haz, Harry, Tom and you are sitting in comfortable velvety seats, with the view of morning sky on your left side. 

The exciting memory of your last recording still seemed to run through your veins, too exciting to let you sleep. Because that was the end, the goodbye after incredible months. All your efforts from the past months were hidden behind that last performance that looked like a fantasy, except for the kiss, ugh, you had to erase it from your mind. But now, you're going back home, ready to take a break away from the set-up bridge and blue and green backgrounds, away from the makeup artists who gave your face the final touches of the magic of Hollywood, far from the suit of a superhero who had just won her last battle and who got the cute boy, Peter Parker.

But not far away from Tom Holland.

Because evil takes a human form in Tom Holland, your lifelong neighbor.

How do you even begin to explain Tom Ho– Stop, people say that if you pronounce his name 3 times a curse falls on you.

But fans say Tom Holland is flawless, you heard his curly hair is insured for 10,000 dollars, his favorite movie is “Spider-man Homecoming”, duh, and very soon, “far from home”. One time he met Robert Downey Jr. in his own village and he started hyperventilating, and once he threw a fan's phone on the floor and she said it was awesome.

"Please don't tell me you're going to his birthday party." You complain, because you can't help it.

"Would that bother you that much, darling?" Tom smiles, tilting his head back so that his tender smile fits perfectly with his tender face. “Then of course I will go. Also, your grandfather still has the hope his granddaughter would get a man like me.”

"Ew. Why would my dear grandfather want me to be with someone who enjoys keeping a frog in his mouth?" You ask, earning yourself an Oscar for best actress with the innocence you exude and the seriousness you manage to put on your face, even when Tom's eyes narrow from the attack you just launched, while, enjoying the show, his friend and his younger brother laughs, shaking heads with a familiar expression on their faces because of the familiar discussion between you and him that happens, every two or three days. "Seriously, Tom, give the poor Henry a break."

"Henry?" Tom asks with real confusion, his accent thick, while the other male voices ask it in a collective whisper too.

"I named your frog Henry, hope it doesn't bother you." And you laugh, victorious to feel how Tom exhales the air through his nose.

“Seriously, (y/n), when will you confess that you are in love with me? You don't have to be so shy, darling.” Tom laughs too, using his finger to tap your nose, because he knows perfectly well that you don't like that, just as you don't like being called darling anymore. “Ray is a wise man, you should listen to your grandfather."

"Yes, if you like skinny ones."

"I'm not skinny. I have the perfect body.” Tom defends himself.

"For now, but in a couple of years you will named your big belly as your dad does after drinking with mine." You laugh like a little girl because you love Dom, because he's warm and funny, because he loves his wife and children, and because of how funny he is when he and your dad have had too much alcohol, like the time they started a cartwheel contest in the middle of the street. "Who's there? It's Dom Junior.”

"Shut up! My dad is still sexy!” A heavy silence falls over the small place as everyone looks at Tom with furrowed brows and true confusion, but that's when he realizes the choice of words he used to refer to his dad. "That's not what I meant!"

You raise your hands in a sign of peace, your gaze avoiding his as you stop yourself from laughing and mocking him.

"That's so wrong, Tom." Harry says, with a certain bittersweet taste on the tip of his tongue. "Now because of you I won't be able to see dad's belly the same way."

Harry and Haz chuckle at Dom's expense.

But when the jet landed smoothly on the headlight-lit runway in the early hours of the morning, the heavy hours from the past months feels now as if they weighed the same as a feather, pain and exhausting sleepless nights disappeared in the blink of an eye, and now, there is no oceans that could make you feel far away, because in the end, you always came back home.

"Besides..." You say to finish that conversation, your backpack on your shoulder before making the victory path towards the stairs to get off the plane. "I would like a boyfriend who can grow a mustache, not like the failed attempt on your face. Thank you very much."

"Hey!" Tom frowns as you pass him by, and his voice rises even higher than it already is. "My doctor says it's just a hormone problem."

"Damn, bro..." Harry laughs as he puts an arm around Tom's shoulder, giving him a brotherly hug before walking out to the car waiting outside. “(Y/n) will be hard to catch, you know? But try it, maybe you will make it in this century."

Harry laughs, and then, walks out of the plane.

"What does that mean?" Tom asks Harrison, who is still waiting by his side.

"I think he meant that you are in love with (y/n), but you haven't noticed it yet."

Harrison chuckles, but after patting Tom on the back, he rushes to place a hand on his best friend's shoulder to stop him.

“Hey, mate… you, uh…” Tom's eyes soften, almost to the point where his brown eyes resembled the gaze of a little 5-year-old boy, sad, and lost. “You haven't told anyone why we came back, right?”

“Of course not.” Harrison says, and his gaze smiles just like his lips. “Don’t worry about anything, okay? We are home, you are home. You can take the time you need to rest.”

Tom nods, unsure, but tries to be strong as they both get off the plane. 

The gray autumn clouds hang with invisible strings in the sky as Tom Holland, actor, handsome, wealthy, and the loneliest person in the world, releases a deep breath that is lost among the sounds of the world, because his world is no longer sparkling or velvety thanks to the cameras or a red carpet, and while his new movie is a box office hit that never in his best dreams he would have imagined, something wasn't right for him.

That’s why he is back home.

The car ride is silent as some sleep, except you and Tom, because your eyes seem to recognize the streets you grew up in, because your hearts recognize your home. But for Tom, he recalls tilting his body to the left and a camera captured his best actor pose a week ago, but since then, his body has felt null, as if floating in the air and no longer responding to his orders. He was crystal clear, but a few people seemed to see clearly through him. Tom tries to convince himself that the tickling in his hands is his body's response to tiredness and not his anxiety, because he suffers it too, but he feels that something is eating his soul.

"Are you okay, Tom?"

Among a sea of ​​people, Tom Holland has always pretended to be an interesting person, but now, he takes a deep breath and looks at you, nervous, lost in the middle of that huge world, but you, looking back at him gives him peace, because he doesn’t feel alone anymore. 

What did you think? That someone is interested in knowing if you are really okay? Of course they care, right?

“Of course, darling.” Tom smiles, as if in a snap of fingers, everything is fine.

But there, he catches a movement of yours.

You tilt your head to the side, like his beloved Tessa when she is curious about something, but he doesn't say it out loud because you would take it the wrong way, but the movement in slow motion worthy of a Hollywood scene and the serenity of your gaze makes Tom hold his breath, that breath that previously didn't fit his chest with so many problems that he carried inside.

But suddenly he can breathe again, finally.

“Okay.”

The minutes pass until the car stops on a street that you two recognize perfectly. When everyone is out, the car leaves, but because your favorite boys are about to leave, too, you hug everyone as the promise to celebrate Harrison's birthday next week hangs in the air. You love them so much, because they are beautiful people who helped you to save yourself from the storms of doubts and fears, each of them in their own charming way, and for that, you were grateful.

"My friend Danielle is coming so I would like you to meet her, Haz." You chuckle adorably before leaving, noting that Harrison's smile is as real as his desire to meet her.

"I'm looking forward to it, darling."

"Wait, why he can call you darling?" Tom says, and for a second, you see a sparkle in the brightness of his eyes, but as the door of his house opens and his beloved Tessa runs to receive him, the confusion disperses like the morning haze.

"There she is the only darling you will ever get, Thomas."

And the moment you turn around, because the door of your house opens too, you lose sight of Tom's honest smile and the question that he hides behind his sweet eyes. Was he in love with you all this time without realizing it? And what if he wanna be your boyfriend? 

Oh, right. The favor that you were going to ask God for? To get you a boyfriend, a cute one, a hot one... maybe like Tom. Weird, isn't it?

Tag list: @galaxies-of-the-heart​

[juliandev0rak]

Defining Moment 🧳✨

Eleven: Defining Moment — what was their coming-of-age moment? A point where everything changed?

echoes of the past event

@arcana-echoes​

Beatrice Viano, she/ her

The South End, Vesuvia

12 years before the events of The Arcana, Beatrice is 14

Words: 2266

Warnings: mentions of parental emotional abuse, no specific details are given but just in case- this does deal with a child leaving an emotionally abusive household so please feel free to skip this post if you’d like

It’s now or never.

The last two years have been hard for Beatrice. With her sister gone, all of her mother’s attention has been focused on her, which has been far from a good thing. Her mother had devoted herself to Beatrice’s education whenever possible, running her tailoring business on the side. Sewing and washing the fine clothing of wealthy women had always made her mother envious for a better life, and she views her daughters as the way to do that.

Beatrice, and her sister before her, had been educated to catch the eye of an upper class, wealthy gentleman. Her mother had tried to arrange a marriage for Freya, which had fallen through, but she has high hopes for Beatrice. Her education mostly consists of training Beatrice to be a proper lady, practicing etiquette and the piano, learning to walk with poise and grace, and most of all learning how to speak correctly. “Good girls are seen and not heard” had been drilled into her since birth. Beatrice is good, she does what she’s told, but it’s still never enough.

Her mother’s corrections are swift and harsh, she is never good enough, or quiet enough, but she is smart enough- too smart actually. Her mother tells her that it's unbecoming for a lady to know so much, how will she get a husband if she runs her mouth like that? Beatrice doesn’t want a husband, she wants a friend. Since her sister left she’s been all alone in the house, not even allowed to go out to the market without her mother. 

Freya had run away from home, and her mother spends every moment making sure Beatrice doesn't follow suit. The house has always been a prison of sorts, but now the warden has become even harsher. Her mother hates magic most of all, so Beatrice has to hide her abilities. It’s impossible to live here knowing that just across town her Aunt Cora has a magic shop and could teach her, if she could only get out.

Part of her feels obligated to stay with her mother, she’ll be all alone if Beatrice leaves and despite her flaws, she’s still her mother. But, deep down, she knows that the only future she has to look forward to if she stays is being married off to the highest bidder. So she bides her time.

She spends her days pretending that nothing is wrong. She practices piano, she does her etiquette lessons and works on her needlepoint samplers, but in her head she’s plotting. Her mother takes her with her whenever she leaves, and it would be difficult to slip out unnoticed any other time.

However, she gets incredibly lucky when one of her mother’s customers requests a house call. It’s too important of a client for her mother to bring Beatrice along, so she’ll have a few hours in the house alone. She begins to plan her getaway, trying to figure out a way to pack her belongings without raising suspicion. 

When her mother leaves that afternoon with a warning of “Be good, Beatrice.” she rushes into action. It’s now or never, and she can’t risk losing this chance to get away. She’ll never be able to live with herself if she doesn’t try to learn how to use her magic, if she doesn’t try to make her life what she wants it to be. 

Beatrice gathers her things in a hurry, wishing she knew more magic to help her with the process. On a whim she throws on her father’s old green cloak. It’s the only thing she has of his and though she never really knew him, she wants to remember him. He’d left when she was too young to remember, and he’s still out there somewhere. She’s often thought about going in search of him, but as she’s gotten older she’s realized he probably wouldn’t be too happy to see her given the circumstances. 

Bag in hand, she opens the door to leave, trying not to think too much about what she’s about to do. She’s scared, she knows her mother won’t let her return if she leaves and she hasn’t seen her aunt in years so she has no guarantee that her aunt will even take her in. But she has to do it, she has to try.

She has a good sense of direction so she makes it to Center City in no time, but she has to ask for directions from there. Trying to find the magic shop without knowing its name is easier said than done. When she arrives it’s still light out and there’s a sign proclaiming that the store is open so she walks in, unsure of what’s to come.

The store is bustling, a dozen customers peruse the various shelves. She spots her Aunt Cora, who looks a lot like her mother, in the corner of the store talking to a customer. So Beatrice walks over, trying to catch her eye.

“I’ll be right with you in a moment, dear.” Aunt Cora says when she notices her approaching, she turns back to the customer then whirls right back to Beatrice. “Oh, Beatrice! Darling, whatever are you doing here?” 

She excuses herself from the customer and runs over to greet her niece. Aunt Cora pulls her into a hug that Beatrice tries not to recoil from. After she deems it long enough that she won’t be impolite, Beatrice pulls away and tries to explain but she’s cut off by a barrage of questions.

“Is Ada here with you? Does she know you’re here?” Cora asks, speaking of Beatrice’s mother.

“No Ma'am, I left without her knowledge.” Beatrice explains, staring down at her shoes to avoid looking at her Aunt, but the voice of her mother reminds her that making eye contact is polite so she raises her head. “My sincerest apologies for the intrusion, I wanted to, that is, I had hoped-” 

 “My, aren’t you a polite girl.” Cora laughs, cutting off her stuttering explanation, “It’s ok, Beatrice you aren’t intruding at all. How about I close the shop early and we can talk? Just give me a few minutes, you can head up the stairs over there and I’ll be right up.” Cora gestures to the corner of the shop where the entrance to her apartment must be.

“Thank you Ma’am.” Beatrice resists the sudden urge to curtsy and tentatively makes her way to the stairs. 

“Call me Cora!” Cora calls after her, shaking her head sadly as she watches Beatrice politely nod in response.

Beatrice opens the door to the apartment and is delighted to find it cozy and quite charming, though a bit too cluttered for what she’s used to. She sets her bag down and takes a seat on the edge of the couch. Her aunt had seemed happy to see her at least. A minute passes in tense silence until she hears footsteps on the stairs. 

“You know,” Cora says, entering the apartment, “your sister Freya arrived in a very similar fashion not so long ago. Am I to assume your visit is for similar reasons?” 

“She came to see you?” Beatrice asks, removing her bag from the couch so Cora has a spot to sit. 

“Indeed she did, she wanted to leave Vesuvia.” Cora explains, eyeing the way Beatrice’s face tightens at the mention of her sister, “But something tells me you’d rather not talk about your sister. Why don’t you tell me why you’ve come to see me?”

“Can you train me?” She asks, wanting to get it over with. If her aunt rejects her she’d rather know now. “I have magic but I can’t, my mother doesn’t, she-”

“You don’t have to explain, I know my sister’s aversion to magic. I knew you had some ability, but is it really something you’d like to pursue?” Cora smiles as Beatrice nods, “In that case, I’d be happy to train you.”

“Thank you Aunt Cora!” Beatrice says excitedly, but a moment later her expression sobers and she continues, “Only.. it’s not just that, I would need somewhere to stay.” 

“Well of course! I wouldn’t want my new apprentice to stay anywhere else! I’ve got a guest room that’s just perfect for you.” Cora grabs Beatrice’s hand and pulls her up. “Let’s go see it, shall we?” 

The room is small but it’s got a lovely window and looks less cluttered than the rest of the apartment, which is perfect for Beatrice. Once she’s all settled in, her small bag of belongings unpacked neatly, her aunt brews them some tea and they talk about magic. It’s the most fun Beatrice has had in years, being able to talk about her interests freely. It’s getting dark by then and her aunt suggests dinner and an early night so they can get started on magic training in the morning. 

Beatrice offers to fill a cooking pot with water and does it with her magic. “I’ve always been rather good at conjuring water.” She explains, “I can use the moisture in the air.” 

“Really! That’s quite something, I’m sure we’ll be able to develop that skill even more with time.” Cora smiles, just as she reaches for the pot there's a loud pounding on the shop door downstairs. “That’ll be your mother.”

“Aunt Cora, please don’t make me go back there. I want to stay here and learn!” Beatrice pleads, grabbing onto Cora’s arm, “I promise I won’t be a burden, if I go back now she’ll never let me out.” 

“Shh.. it’s ok Beatrice, I have no intention of letting my sister stifle your magic any longer.” Cora soothes. “This is your home now, as far as I’m concerned. I’ll go talk to her.” 

Cora leaves and Beatrice locks the door behind her just in case. Part of her wants to know what her mother has to say, but she doesn’t want to chance her mother seeing her. She can hear raised voices but no words, and it’s a good five minutes before Cora comes back.

“It’s just me!” She calls as she knocks on the door, Beatrice lets her in and she collapses on the couch, looking quite tired. “She never gets easier to deal with.” 

“What did she say?” Beatrice asks nervously, still standing by the door. 

“Her exact words were quite harsh, but to summarize she’s made it clear that if you’re not home by tomorrow morning you’re.. well you’re not welcome back.” Cora frowns, gesturing for Beatrice to join her. She sits next to her aunt and allows herself to be pulled into a hug. She feels like crying, but she won’t do that here. 

“I need to stay here, I have to learn magic.” She says resolutely, hoping her voice won’t break. 

“With that determination you’ll go far Beatrice, and you’re welcome here as long as you like.” Cora smiles encouragingly. “Now, have you met my familiar yet? He lives in the stove.” 

Later that night Beatrice tosses and turns in her new bed. She thinks she’s made the right choice, but it’s hard to know that yet. It’ll get easier, she tells herself, your magic will get better and Aunt Cora said you can read as much as you want here. It all becomes a bit too much and she starts crying despite her efforts not to. In the past she would have had Freya there to wipe away her tears, but it’s been just her for a while now, and it’ll be just her from now on. 

Beatrice startles as she hears a noise in the hall and sits up in bed, pulling the covers around her in the chill of the room. She listens closely as her bedroom door knob rattles and she ducks her head under the covers, trying to hide her sniffing.

“Beatrice, sweetheart, it’s just me.” Aunt Cora says quietly, sitting on the edge of her bed. Beatrice tentatively peeks her head out of the blankets and sees Cora looking at her with sympathy. “I know how hard it was for me to leave home when I was around your age. My mother was very similar to yours in a way, that’s probably where my sister got it from.”  

They sit in silence for a minute, Beatrice not knowing whether she should respond. Silent tears still run down her face and she hopes it’s too dark in the room for her aunt to notice. 

“You don’t have to suffer alone, Beatrice. You aren’t alone here.” Cora puts her hand gently on Beatrice’s head and ruffles her hair. Before she can stop herself Beatrice pulls herself out of the covers and into her aunt’s arms. Her aunt hugs her, saying soothing words under her breath as Beatrice continues to cry quietly. “I’m so proud of you for knowing what you want and going after it, Beatrice. I have no doubt that someday you’re going to be a wonderful magician, but my real hope for you is that you’re happy.” 

“Thank you.” Beatrice murmurs, pulling back from the hug. Her aunt smiles at her and brushes Beatrice’s hair out of her face. 

“Would you like to light a candle to keep in your room? Just in case you decide to read during the night or anything.” Cora suggests, and Beatrice is glad of the topic change.

“Can I use my magic to do it?” She asks, giving her aunt a weak smile.

“But of course!” Cora says, pulling a candle from her robe pocket with a flourish. “Apprentice Beatrice, your training starts... now!”

[anonniemousefics]

My Dearest Inej | Chapter Eleven

Chapter Masterlist

Originally posted on AO3

Rating: Teen And Up

Synopsis: A series of letters kept among the personal belongings of Captain Inej Ghafa.

Chapter Eleven: A Balancing Act

My darling Inej,  

Don’t think for a minute I don’t know what you’re aiming at with this letter full of questions. You may have my heart, but you can’t be privy to all of my schemes, especially when I’m now aware that your birthday is next month. Did you think I would forget? My dear, I forget nothing.  

So, no, to all of your questions. I’m not telling you what I’ve been plotting lately. I’m not telling you what has been on my mind. I’m not telling you if I’ve been visiting Jesper and Wylan’s more than usual. You must wait in suspense just as Jesper did. That’s part of the experience.

And don’t make that scoffing sound when you read this. I remind you that this whole birthday gift experience business was all your idea. You have no one to blame but yourself.

How do I sleep at night, you asked? Noisily, I’ve been told, but just fine, thank you.  

With all of my scheming heart,

Kaz  

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To my favorite Inej,

Has he said anything at all to you – regarding the incident in my last letter? We found him on the couch again this morning. It’s at least becoming less startling when it happens. I just wish I understood it. He has that uncanny ability to vanish without explanations, and Wylan and I aren’t sure how to bring it up since he’s so clearly bent on pretending it’s not happening.

I suppose if our sofa and our dog are what he needs right now for whatever is happening inside that ridiculous brain of his, then I’m glad we’re able to help in some small way. He’s not taking advantage of much. We only wish he’d trust us with more.

I mean, we’ve all have nearly died for his schemes on more than one occasion. Should I remind him of that? What could possibly be too much to ask of us at this point?

All my love,

Jesper  

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To our feared and beloved Captain

For her twenty-first birthday:

Cake and kvas and mysteries galore

Are awaiting your arrival

Return to Ketterdam if you wish to know more

Your presence is requested at the enclosed address, at 3 bells the 18th of October.  

No questions. All will be revealed in time.

Love,

Your favorite Crows

(addition in Kaz’s handwriting)

That gods-awful poem was Jesper and Wylan’s idea. Withhold judgment until after the evening. I’ll make it worth your while.  

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

 Dear Nina,  

I’m sailing away from Ketterdam today having nearly every single one of my birthday wishes fulfilled but one. But I won’t hold it against you. I know why you couldn’t have been there, or at least, I understand why I don’t know the specifics of why you couldn’t be there. Just know that, at the time of writing this and always, you are sorely missed.  

You would be so proud, though, with how our boys outdid themselves. I am impressed and moved and, frankly, still a little speechless. I’m honestly still replaying the memories and recalling the half-starved scrappy little things we all were seven years ago, and the two images side-by-side could not be any more different. I hope, wherever you are, the passage of time is bringing you similar new hopes. You deserve that and so much more, Nina.  

Where to begin? You know, years ago, just before we started the Ice Court, Kaz made me this lofty, insane promise. That, if we did it right, we’d be kings and queens. I’ll be damned if he wasn’t right.  

The day started at a dressmaker’s shop. I’d been given an address and a time to arrive, and that alone was a little jaw-dropping. It was in The Lid – an absolute premier spot I’d never even heard of when I lived in Ketterdam. I was grossly underdressed when I arrived. It’s not that I have anything against dresses – you know this. They’re just not at all practical for my line of work, and so I have none. I confess that sometimes I’ll admire them in a shop window when I’m out and about in a port town, but why in the world would I ever spend the coin on one? I wouldn’t even know what suits me anymore.  

This dressmaker, though, Nina. She knew all everything about the right fabrics, the right cut, the right make. They’d booked me the entire shop all to myself, just me and the dressmaker. She found me an absolute perfect gown – I’m staring at it right now. I have no idea what the hell I’m supposed to do with it now that my birthday’s over. Maybe I’ll prop it up in my desk chair and have tea with it every once and awhile. It’s this breathtaking light, pastel yellow, like sunshine, with all this detailed beadwork and exposed shoulders and what the dressmaker called an A-line waist. You might know what that means. I think it’s just dressmaker code for very pretty. She tailored me into it right there in the shop and fitted me with shoes and a cloak to match.

(My one regret was having no idea what to do with my hair. You’d cringe, but I left it in the braid. A minor detail the boys overlooked.)

It took a good few hours to get fixed up in the dress, and it was nearly evening by then. The dressmaker assured me it was all paid for, and right about that time, a black carriage pulled up in front of the shop. And Jesper and Wylan had their heads out the windows, shouting like madmen at me from the streets. I think the entirety of The Lid knew then about my birthday.

Kaz was in the carriage, too, hiding his enthusiasm as he does so well. I have to tell you, though, Nina, I won’t ever forget the look on his face when I got into the carriage. He was clearly trying his best to remain cool and unaffected, but I saw it, the way his jaw dropped slightly and his breath caught. This is obviously why I can never get rid of this dress. I’m just imagining what he’s going to end up writing in his letter after this, since, verbally, he actually managed to mumble that I looked beautiful, right there in front of Jesper and Wylan.

You know, it’s interesting. When he says it, it’s not at all like hearing a man in the Menagerie say it. When he says it, it’s like it’s not just the dress. I don’t know how else to explain it. It’s the same words, and yet it’s so very different.  

And it only got better from there. The city was getting dusky, and the lamps were being lit. We were still in The Lid, amongst carriages and carriages of the filthy rich from the Financial District, the Government District, and tourists from all over. I kept leaning my head out the window to figure out what was coming next.  

Nina – they had bought us all ticket to the Cirque Euphoric.  

Maybe this means nothing to you. But it’s only the most ancient, most elite, most elaborate traveling circus in the world. It can only be afforded anymore by the wealthiest of tourists. And they were there doing an entire season in The Lid in Ketterdam, under a big top the size of two city blocks.

Nina, you don’t understand. My entire childhood, I kept posters and drawings and any relic that made its way to the markets from the Cirque Euphoric. Their high wire artists set the standard for all other performers in the business. The things they do in the sky, Nina, are things I haven’t even begun to imagine yet.

Sufficed to say, as soon as I figured out where we were going, I lost it. I did not know what to do with myself. I’m embarrassed to admit this, but I burst into tears. It was a horrifying few moments for everyone involved. They were fairly certain they’d done something horribly wrong, instead of so wonderfully right. But that only last a couple minutes. I was able to get it together before Kaz could yell at the driver to take us back to East Stave. And then the merriment resumed, soaked handkerchief and all.

Oh, Saints, Nina, it was everything I’d ever imagined and more.

I don’t know how he knew this, but Kaz had reserved us the very best seats. You don’t want to sit too high at a circus or you’ll miss entertainment on the ground. Sitting too low presents a problem, too, because you want to be able to see the footwork the high wire artists can do. We were right in the middle, just where I’d have picked seats myself. Sankta Alina, I felt like a little girl again. I haven’t been that happy in years. I’d almost forgotten what it was to be that happy. And to watch it all with such beloved friends, who knew me well enough to know I would like this, to watch and hear their reactions to the performances. They might have loved it almost as much as I did. Almost.

We took another carriage ride after, hours later, when it was dark and the streets were bustling with very different crowds. I would have assumed that was the end of it, but Kaz had made us reservations in a private dining room at a fine dining club I’d never heard of.

My entire crew from The Wraith was waiting in the dining room. We ate a meal there fit for royalty, with drinks and a cake big enough that even you might have gotten sick of it after awhile. I don’t think I’ll need to eat again for weeks.

It must have been around midnight or past when we finally rolled ourselves out of the club. We took another carriage ride, stopping first at the Van Eck mansion so Wylan could haul a decently-sloshed Jesper off to bed and hopefully not to the toilet bowl. I actually never heard how he ended up faring that night.

And then it was finally just Kaz and me. If I hadn’t been so tired then, I think I’d have tried to snog his face off the whole way home. I’d been noticing his smug little smirk all evening. He’d planned the whole thing. Like I said, kings and queens. He’d made good on his word at last.  

But we were both exhausted on that final carriage ride – he’d booked me a room at the Geldrenner. And it’s not like I needed anything else at that point. The whole experience had already exceeded my expectations. He leaned back against the window, and I rested against him under his arm. We both dozed off there before the end of the ride.  

Which is another point I realize I haven’t mentioned to you yet. This has been happening lately. Kaz falling asleep in unusual places. Jesper’s been worrying about it for weeks now. I was having a hard time believing it until I witnessed it myself. Tell me this isn’t weird:

We got to the Geldrenner, and I asked him to come up. Oh, calm down. Are we really going to pretend like this is shocking at this point? Frankly, given the number of years, it’s shocking we weren’t sneaking into hotel rooms four years ago. And it’s not like we do much more than kiss. Although, I thought about it. It was my birthday after all, and he had just gifted me the experience of a lifetime and a luxury hotel room to boot. I was definitely thinking about it.  

But that’s not the weird part. Let’s agree that’s not the weird part, anyway. We came up, and we did very little talking. There’d been plenty of talking happening all night, and I was more interested in other things he can do with his mouth. Kissing, Nina, Saints. I can sense you doing that waggling thing with your eyebrows. I’m talking about just a lot of kissing, as soon as he let me get my hands on him. The kind of kissing every grown woman should have on her birthday, kisses that slide into more kisses, like there’s nothing else in the world happening but this.

But then the weird part happened. We’re lying on the bed (fully clothed, Nina, he even still had his gloves on), or at least, he’s lying back on the pillows and I’m kissing him, and then I notice he wasn’t really moving. And I sat back a moment, and I swear to you, he had fallen asleep. Believe me, I called him out on it right then, literally – “Are you sleeping?!” And he flinched right awake and apologized and blamed it on the kvas, and I might have even believed him.  

Except Jesper keeps talking about this strange new habit of his. And, as I replay the night’s memories in my head, it does feel like something was off. He seemed paler. He seemed quieter. He seemed – well, tired.  

Now I can’t kick this feeling like there’s something more happening behind the scenes. I wish you were here, Nina, and you could work your magic like you do and just squeeze the truth out of his brain somehow. I’ll have to settle for my own magic, I guess.  

When I look over my letters from him, he’s off-handedly mentioned feeling overwhelmed, particularly since this kid Artie joined the Dregs. And, don’t get me wrong, the kid is kind of handful. His moods swing wide between murderous rage and affectionate admiration. But he’s not Kaz’s sole responsibility. Pim and Anika do a lot to keep him on task and out of the bad kind of trouble. I wouldn’t think this would be enough to drive him to exhaustion.

But then again, Artie is the same age Jordie was. I wonder how much that gets to him. I wonder how much time he spends avoiding that. I wonder if he allows himself to think of it at all. Would that be enough to push him to the edge? Or is it something more?

It couldn’t be me, could it? Am I becoming exhausting?  

Ugh, Nina, come squeeze this out of my brain, too. And then come dress shopping with me, because it is much more enjoyable than I thought it would be.  

Missing you terribly,

Inej

[florbelles]

All odd NSFW asks for my beloved cult daughter-in law! I promise this won't make it back to the Resistance. 🐍💕

here we are, lovely. evens answered here with all the freak stuff.

nsfw. tw lyra-typical content.

note that i’ve used “husband” where both john & wes are applicable, names where it’s specific to one (1) of the ferretbrooks men

01. when did they lose their virginity?

in the conscious “i am going to fuck” sense, she was 14; it was the son of one of the summer families on the island, he was older and smuggled whiskey and cigarettes out to the beach for her. arguably it was a bit earlier than that, depending on how hard you want to drive the definition; she’d messed around a bit with past friends & roommates at school, but nothing serious.

the boy never knew, for what that’s worth; she didn’t lie, he simply didn’t ask, and that’s how she preferred it.

03. what is the weirdest place they’ve had sex?

by whose definition?

lyra generally has more abnormality in circumstance than physical location ( her judge chambers, john’s confession room, the altar in the compound church, that time she got railed against a tree to the screams of sinners roasting on a pyre ) but to her they’re all simply tuesday.

having said that, if there’s a place sex is physically a viable option, she’s probably fucked there tbh

05. are they dominant, submissive, or switch?

switch. with men, historically, she was more likely to be dominant, but given that the vast majority of them were strangers she met along the road and/or targets of a conjob or murder, that was more about maintaining control & a protective measure than any personal preference ( much like leaving her shoes on; john is the first person she fucks barefoot in the entirety of her life ). there’s a reason lust isn’t one of her sins despite her expansive experience; for most of her life, sex was a weapon, a tool, or an outlet for her to self-medicate, not a driving force for its own sake.

having established that, she enjoys going both ways; with john it’s very much either/or because they both tip more towards the bossy bottom bitch end of the spectrum but Also enjoy absolutely railing their bossy bottom bitch partner, so it works well for them. wes is more likely to top despite being a switchlord himself because he generously indulges her ( their ) secret inner simp(s).

she inherently lets women get away with more, so she’s more likely to sub with them, but she doesn’t mind domming/topping. much like positions, she prefers variety; she wouldn’t want to be one or the other all the time.

07. would they be more likely to do it in the bed, on the couch, on the floor, or somewhere else?

lyra will fuck on literally any surface available; her blood runs hot and so do her impulses, so wherever the urge strikes ( as it often does ). statistically speaking, she probably has more sex in bed than any other single location purely out of convenience; it’s where they are in the morning and it’s where they end up at night. a close second would be the shower, but there’s not a place in the ranch that hasn’t been desecrated ( rip to the cleaners and to shaggy specifically ). having said that, other highlights include against trees, in the dirt, on bearskin rugs, on the cement floors of the bunker, on tables and desks, that poor couch, yeah, the plane, the plane got desecrated, what about it,

09. have they ever been caught masturbating?

sure, especially in boarding school, where she invariably had roommates. it’s not a major life event, though.

11. how often do they have sex?

she ain’t just soaking in that tub every day for the fun of it honey

lyra being very much Like That, it’s usually every day, multiple times a day. in canon that’s partly because she and john don’t really have long enough to move past the stage of physical obsession with each other ( though how much they really would have progressed in that department is debatable because they are Them ).

that’s just with john, so imagine how much worse it is in ferretbrooks verse where there’s Two Husbands, oh god there’s gonna be a prolapse situation

all jests aside, physicality is the way lyra is best at expressing love and intimacy, so she seeks it out wherever and whenever she can. she loves the permanent pleasant soreness between her thighs and in her muscles because it's a reminder of what she has; the ache of its absence later is excruciating.

13. do they like giving oral?

she loves it ( in all forms ). lyra’s extremely mouthy in all aspects. going down on her partners is one of her preferred forms of sex and is also her biggest unhorrific turn-on; she’s highly voyeuristic and loves watching them, hearing them, tasting them, feeling the muscles in their thighs twitch, cleaning them with her mouth post-coitus.

15. what is the most embarrassing thing that’s ever happened to them during sex?

the mortifying ordeal of openly weeping during sex because you love your husband so much. also the mortifying ordeal of loving your husband so much.

17. what is a song they’d listen to during soft/slow/passionate sex?

here

lyra would much prefer to hear herself and her partner; she never intentionally puts music on during sex.

19. would they prefer sex in the tub or sex in the shower?

she’s more likely to have sex in the shower simply both out of efficiency and the greater position range ( her preferred shower sex position is with her leg over her partner’s shoulder ) in addition to weeping potential but she enjoys both; she’s more likely to engaging heavy petting/making out in the bath and fucking After, though.

21. have they ever had a threesome? if not, would they?

lyra has both thrown and attended her share of orgies in her day, so yes, absolutely. perhaps more pertinently she’s in polyamorous marriages across the multiverse ( because of her history with her father and who she is as a person, infidelity/lying/betraying a partner is something she’s physically incapable of doing; poly/open relationships or orgies are the only circumstances where multiple partners are possible for her ). special mention goes to shaggy who, while never having any form of sexual or romantic contact with either of them, is john & lyra’s long-suffering third ( and fairbrooks’ long-suffering fourth ).

23. have they ever given someone a dirty text/letter/picture?

please refer to the bit about her exhibitionist tendencies from installment i.

in all seriousness, she’s more likely to give her partners an actual physical photo of herself or a a handwritten, perfumed, lipstick-printed note ( no, she does not ordinarily wear lipstick, yes, she put on lipstick for that specifically, why do you ask ) that’s some convoluted but poetic variation of “hurry home so i can suck you dry xx” than she is to text anything. ( with her darling dear deputy wes she’s also quite fond of erotic radio broadcasts, though those are usually vaguely threatening in nature and sexy to absolutely no one but herself and their unfortunate recipient. what do you mean describing the way she’s going to crucify his friends along the main road isn’t romantic? ) she also abuses the radios with john, but those calls are simply to conspire trysts, not engage in verbal foreplay ( yes, they’re married and live together, what about it? ).

25. is there anything they do after sex? (ex: smoke, eat, drink, cuddle)

lyra’s sleeping/clinging habits have been described extensively in the past ( in that she’s invariably completely twined and tangled with her partner in a confusion of limbs, usually facing them, usually nuzzling their neck ), and those are more or less applicable here regardless of whether or not she’s actually going to sleep; she likes the hold her partner and watch them, stroke their hair/beard/face/back. she’s a nudger, she expresses post-coital fondness nose-first. if sleep isn’t imminent and she has cigarettes on hand ( she usually does ) she’ll light up, but that’s less a post-sex ritual and more her permanent state of being.

this is all only applicable with her husband/spouse(s), though; with casual encounters she’s a hit and run.

27. do they prefer morning sex or night sex?

both, but secretly she prefers mornings; that’s when she’s at her most affectionate. she makes love in the morning, still too comfortably sleepy to pretend to be anything but deliriously happy and desperately in love, and she’s all heavy lids and upturned lips she kisses swollen and slow rocking hips; the point isn’t to get each other off as it is to be together and have that intimacy & closeness. lyra’s always going to be most comfortable expressing her love with her body, it’s why she’s so deeply physical. it’s also the real reason john actually drags his beauty sleep requiring bitch ass out of bed to watch the sunrise with her every morning.

29. what is their favourite body part on the same sex?

the whole ass woman.

[turning-dreams-into-chaos]

Life

*Not my Gif*

Request: Hii! Love your writing. I saw your post about Harry Potter requests. Could I request one about Sirius Black x reader fluff with their daughter? If you don't write Marauders, can it be Oliver Wood?

Requested By: @fk12b

Post Date: 9-15-19

Paring: Sirius Black x Reader

Word Count: 1.5K

~Master Lists~

You were fast asleep before a weight over your chest jolted you awake, trying to gasp for air before meeting a pair of tiny confused Y/E/C eyes staring down at you. Realizing that you weren’t in danger you calmed down and tried blinking to see better in the middle of the night.

“Mommy I can’t sleep!” A small voice whispered as she placed her hands on both of your cheeks, making you look at her right in the face. You giggled, seeing her try to widen her eyes and squeeze your cheeks until your lips were pursed.

“What’s wrong Lily?” You said and grabbed her hands, moving to sit up against the headboard. She landed in your lap, resting against you and played with your fingers. Nights like these weren’t normal where Lily would come crashing your sleep time so you knew it had to be something really bad. She just shrugged before a loud snore filled the room and you both burst out in laughter. “How about we wake up daddy before he makes the house shake again?” You joked as Lily smiled and shook her head, standing up and repeating her earlier actions with you on him.

“Huh? Wha- what’s happening?” Sirius mumbled as he wrapped his arms around your daughter, bringing her into her chest in a bear hug while you listened to her small giggles. “What’s wrong Darling?” He whispered into her hair before pressing a kiss to her head. You looked at the clock on the wall, seeing it was a little after 3 in the morning before laying back down on the bed. Sirius’ eyes darted to you, not having noticed you were already awake before his smile doubled. “Morning, Love.”

“Morning Pads.” You whispered as you leaned in to give him a kiss.

“Eww!” Lily said as you stuck your tongue out at her, scrunching your nose up.

“Let me guess. You can’t sleep again?” Sirius asked your little one causing you to furrow your brow.

Again?

This had happened before and you didn’t know? How come Sirius hadn’t told you about this, why are you just finding out now that your baby can’t sleep properly.

“Now what did I say about waking up your mum?” Sirius faked scowled causing Lily’s head to drop as she mumbled a quiet ‘don’t tell her.’ Sirius put his hand to her chin, picking up her head before standing up, holding her in his arms.

“Where are you going?” You asked when he started to head out of the room, leaving you alone after this apparently normal situation happened. Sirius gave you a wink before bringing Lily into the living room and dumping her on the couch. You followed them, standing back a ways as they fell into their rhythm. Sirius grabbed a leather book off the shelf before catching your eye, walking you over to join them on the couch. Lily climbed into your lap, wrapping your arms around her and leaning her head onto your chest. Sirius smiled when he saw the love on your face and Lily’s, knowing that this was everything he could’ve ever wanted.

You hadn’t seen the book he grabbed before he flipped it open, causing you to gasp as your saw the moving faces of your life. He grabbed the photo album you’d kept from your time in Hogwarts. You hadn’t opened them much since Lily and James died but by the look on your daughters and husbands face told you that they would see it so often it would surprise you. There were pictures you’d taken and some your friends had taken but each one was special.

“Daddy! It’s you and Mum!” Lily shouted as she pointed to a picture of you and Sirius at the Leaky Cauldron where Sirius’ arm was thrown over your shoulder and he was whispering something into your ear. James was the one who took your picture, capturing the perfect moments of you listening to Sirius then meeting his eyes, the same glint in them Sirius saw as you looked down at Lily earlier. You tightened your hold on Lily as you thought about that moment, it was the first time Sirius told you he loved you. It seemed Sirius had the same thoughts running through his head because he would not stop smiling at you, but it’s not like you wanted him to. You scooted over until you were wrapped under Sirius’ arm, letting Lily be the one to flip through the pages as you all laughed and watched the faces move through the pages. It was nearing 4 when Lily fell asleep in your lap, gripping tight to your arm and sucking on her thumb. You ran a hand through her long black hair, marveling in all the ways your baby was growing up and how much she looked like Sirius and you.

“We should get her back to bed.” Sirius whispered as he placed the photo album onto the couch and leaned over to gracefully pick up Lily. You helped him get her into his arms without waking her before he was down the hall and tucking her into bed. His footsteps told you he was going to join you back out into the living room before you even saw him. He sat down next to you and you moved so you could rest your head in his lap, laying down on the length of the couch.

“So how often does this happen?” You asked as Sirius laughed, making you smile as he glanced down the hallway into the dimly lit child’s room.

“Almost every night.” He admitted resting his hand into your waist, giving you the perfect position to wrap his fingers with yours. You were shocked to be honest, they did this every night and you were none the wiser? Before you could even ask, he began explaining himself. “You used to have trouble sleeping, always waking up in the middle of the night and pretending it’s ok to wake up at 3 in the morning. I knew how to get you to go to bed and I can damn well do the same to get our daughter there as well! I told her not to wake you because I knew how much you needed-“ you stopped his ramblings by kissing him and he sighed into the kiss, adjusting you a bit so he could hold you in his arms. You remember Sirius helping you sleep. It was after your fifth year and all the stress from your family wanting you to get the perfect grades had messed you up all year. You, Lily and the Marauders had all spent the summer at James house, enjoying the final days before you had to go back. It was the 2nd week there before Sirius had realized his girlfriend would disappear in the middle of the night from their bed. Of course he began to worry but the next night he followed you, watching as you laid down in the grass by the back of house and stared up in the night sky, Sirius grabbed your camera from your room, leaning out the window but not to much that you could see and snapped a picture before running back down. He scared you at first when he just jumped onto the grass next to you but you didn’t mind the company of your lovely boyfriend. He learnt that you couldn’t sleep most nights and he was determined to help. He would read you these poems James had stored in a book, making sure to get through as many as he could before you were both fast asleep, smiling and holding onto each other for dear life.

You pulled out of the kiss, wiping a stray tear out of your eye as Sirius stood you up. “Come on, Love. Let’s go to bed.” You nodded as grabbed his hand, pausing for only a minute to look at the opened leather bound book.

“You go ahead. I’ll be in there soon.” You assured Sirius and he kissed your head, moving back to your room as you picked up the photo album and flipped to the last page. It was your favorite, it was the only picture you put in the album after James and Lily passed and Peter was sent to Azkaban. You were lying in a hospital bed, Sirius next to you as you both stared down at the bundle of blankets in your hands, tears streaming down both of your faces. Remus was the one who captured your first moments of holding your baby, having your entire life on that hospital bed. You let out a happy sob and closed the book to put it back onto the shelf. You walked slowly back to your room, stopping by Lily’s door to peer in and see her fast asleep holding a stuffed dog you got her for her 3rd birthday last year. Sirius was already snoozing when you crawled into the bed, lifting the covers as he snored himself awake and pulled you flush against his chest, not letting go until the sun came up and Lily made another surprise appearance to wake you up for real.

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Harry Potter: @accio-rogers

[somekindoftuber]

vld youtuber AU (klance, part 7)

hey so who’s up for some a n g s t

(content warning for this chapter: vomit)

part one | part two | part three | part four | part five | part six

.

“Favorite color?”

“Red.”

“Cool, mine’s blue. Um, favorite subject in school?”

“....Math?”

“Ew.”

“Lance,” Keith laughs over the mic. “You said no judgment. I was good at math.”

Leaning back, Lance pops his back. “Yeah, okay, fine. Mine was history.”

“Ew.”

They’d been sitting in the Overwatch menu screen for at least a half-hour, Keith indulging Lance in a question swap. “You know,” Keith says after taking a drink of his soda. “When I said we should get to know each other, I sort of expected something more.... Organic than 20 questions.”

“What, my methods aren’t free-range enough for you?” Lance joked, and Keith laughed loud at that one. “Well, you should know, Keith, that I have this tendency to focus on things that I want, and I don’t give up easily.”

Keith went silent for a second. “Things you want, huh?” His voice was low.

Lance felt the heat rush to his face. “U-um.”

“Sorry,” Keith said. “Too much?”

Lance chewed his lip. “Is it too much for you?”

Keith’s tongue clicked through the headphones over Lance’s ears, and when he spoke, his voice was almost sultry. “Nah. Besides, I can be pretty driven when I want something, too.”

Dear lord, this man was going to be the death of him. Now that they’d gotten their feelings out in the open, Lance was discovering a side of Keith he never knew existed - a bold, fearless, self-assured side. And holy shit, was it hot, if a little terrifying. Whatever reservations Keith had about flirting before now were long gone, and it would still throw lance for a serious loop to hear Keith directing low key innuendo at him.

“Here’s one for you,” Keith said. “When did you first play guitar?”

“Oh!” Lance grinned. “I was nine. I had already been playing the piano for two years, but it sort of bored me. I couldn’t get it to make the kind of sound I wanted, if that makes sense? Then my dad got his old acoustic guitar out of storage and got it repaired and restrung. When he played it, I knew it was the sound I’d been trying to find.” His eyes went misty as he remembered the first time he plucked one of the steel strings. “It sounded like heaven.”

“Wow,” Keith said after a minute.

“Your turn. How’d you know you wanted to be a pilot?”

Keith hummed. “I was always sort of an adrenaline junkie as a kid. Raced go-karts, ran track, got in trouble, did some free running. I… spent a lot of time in and out of foster care, which was a pretty numbing experience, so I think maybe I was looking for something to make me feel alive.”

Lance had no idea what to say to that, so he kept quiet.

“I went on a field trip to an air force museum with my school when I was thirteen,” Keith continued. “There was a reconstructed Grumman F-14 Tomcat on display, and when I looked at it, I just thought, I need to be in one of those.” He let out a little laugh. “That’s also where I met Shiro. Or, well, he met me. When I stole his car.”

Lance choked, beating his fist on his chest to get air back into his lungs. “Excuse me?”

Then Keith laughed long and loud. “Told you. Adrenaline junkie. I was a brat with something to prove.”

Lance stared at his computer screen. This was intense, and he had a feeling that he was only scratching the surface of who Keith really was.

-----

October began, and Lance was officially panicking. Because Keith’s birthday was at the end of this month and he really wanted to do something special for it. Now that they were hovering in some bizarre “not boyfriends yet” zone, Lance figured it wouldn’t be too much to maybe go a little further than he would for a friend.

He got out his guitar, a notebook, blank music sheets, and a pencil.

——-

Lance’s channel was gaining followers rapidly. He was no stranger to having an online following, but he had to change his notification settings on twitter to keep his phone from blowing up constantly. He pondered making a separate, locked account for himself, something his friends could follow where he could drop the YouTube persona.

He was sort of envious of Keith’s anonymity online.

And speaking of Keith, there was also the issue of a potential move to Springdale. Lance had looked up schools in the area, and the local community college had a music education program that he could afford. He’d closed his browser and walked away from his laptop after he had that confirmation and spent the next fifteen minutes pacing around the living room, running his hands through his hair until it was sticking up all over the place. It hadn’t felt real until that moment; before that, the idea of going back to school and pursuing an actual career had been just that -- and idea. But now? Now he couldn’t really make excuses anymore. It was all very much within his reach. He just had to muster up the courage to go for it.

Easier said than done.

Lance ended up stress eating half a carton of butter pecan ice cream by the time Pidge came home from class.

Lance posted more Overwatch videos in the meantime, held some more streams. His content was slowing down because he’d taken an extra shift every week at the cafe to save up money. He had no idea what his living situation was going to be come January, but it was safer to assume he’d be on his own and have the money to support himself.

He talked to Keith almost every day. They’d started using facetime, and that did a number on poor Lance’s heart, to get to see Keith’s face while talking to him. Keith was still unfarily, stupidly, irrevocably attractive, even when he was flushed and sweaty from working out or covered in grime from the garage. One time Keith had called when Lance was wearing a face mask, and Lance would have been embarrassed, if it wasn’t for the absolutely hilarious confusion that crossed Keith’s face at the sight.

“I’m kind of big on skin care, if you haven’t noticed.”

“Uh.” Keith’s thick eyebrows pinched together. “I hadn’t?”

Lance smiled as much as he could with the mask drying on his face. “Well, get used to it. It’s a packaged deal with me.”

Keith gave him a little grin then, and Lance nearly swooned.

.

Another night, as they were messing around in Overwatch, the topic of tattoos came up. “Do you have more than one? Tattoo, I mean,” Lance asked while they scrolled through servers.

“Just the one,” Keith answered. “I kinda want more, but I’m not sure what I’d get. You?”

“None.” Lance hummed. “How big is that lion, anyway? I could only see the top bit at the beach.”

“Not that big,” Keith answered. Then there was some shuffling from his end of the voice chat, and he went quiet for a second. Lance thought he heard a click.

“You okay over there?”

“Yeah, yeah. Just - gimme a sec - there.”

Lance’s phone buzzed at his side. He picked it up, the motion completely automatic, to see a new text. He used his thumb print to open it, and the entire universe ground to a screeching halt.

Because on the screen was Keith’s lion tattoo, in its entirety, the dark red ink carved neatly into Keith’s exposed hip. At the bottom of the frame, a thumb was hooked into the hem of a pair of sweatpants, pulling them down and away, and at the top, a dark gray shirt was rucked up to reveal a toned stomach. Lance’s heart might have stopped. There was so much skin, all smooth and milky, stretched over a sharp hipbone, the sweatpants pulled down just enough to reveal the tiny beginnings of dark hair below. Lance’s mouth watered.

“You still there?” Keith was asking, a smile in his voice, but Lance.exe had stopped working.

“Jesus Christo,” Lance breathed. “You -- you gotta warn me before you do that.”

He heard Keith huff a little laugh. “Sorry.”

Lance had the distinct impression that Keith wasn’t sorry at all.

-----

Lance might have pulled a few all-nighters in the course of the month. But he was running out of time, and he wouldn’t be satisfied until it was perfect. This was for Keith, for his birthday, and Lance absolutely did not half ass things like that.

Pidge just rolled her eyes at him and went back to her thesis, heedless of Lance’s internal crisis as she tapped away at her laptop.

He was finally, finally ready to record on the 18th. It took at least four tries to get one good take, and then he had to record backup vocals, additional guitar, piano. It took three days to get the song right, and he didn’t even have a video. A blank screen would have to do.

He set the video to post at 8:00am the next morning, October 23. He really, really hoped Keith would see it, and Lance listened to the song one last time before he went to bed.

I was wondering through, I’d never heard your voice You were just an idea on a screen I was belly up, dried up, a fish out of water Pretending that I could breathe air

But then I met you, and my world burst into color Where was I going before you came my way I don’t know, I don’t care, and I don’t think it matters I’m just so glad that I met you

I had no direction, you handed me a map And it’s pointing me your way I hope that’s alright, ‘cause I sort of can’t help it, You’re drawing me to you, and I don’t want to stop

Because my world is all color now that you’re in it So bright and beautiful, just like your smile And no matter what happens, I want you to know Darling I am so glad that I met you.

In the description, Lance wrote “happy birthday” with a heart emoji, then clicked “schedule video” and let the fates have it. He went to bed with a nervous jitter in his veins.

The next morning, Lance was still anxious as hell, so he went for a long run through the brisk autumn air. After five miles he came home and made some coffee, as it was brewing, his phone rang.

Keith’s number was on the screen.

Lance cleared his throat and picked up. “Hey Keith!” he started, happy that the words only shook a little bit. “What’s up?”

“Hey,” Keith answered. His voice sounded strange. “I, um. I saw the video you posted.”

Lance felt his whole body flash hot as he bit his lip. “Happy Birthday, Keith.”

There was shuffling on the other end of the line. “That was for me?”

“Yeah.”

Keith was quiet for a long time. Then a sudden wet sniffle came through, and Lance felt himself panic. “Keith?”

“Sorry,” Keith’s voice cracked. “Sorry, I just--” he broke off with another sniffle, louder this time. “I’m not used to that. To people doing nice things for me.”

Oh god. Lance had made him cry. And the sound was so sad that Lance felt his own eyes sting.  “You okay?”

Keith laughed, the sound wet and strained. “Yeah, yeah, I’m okay. Just. Wow, Lance.”

“Get used to it,” Lance said softly. “I’m definitely the type for grand gestures.”

Another small laugh, then some more sniffling. “What did I do,” Keith whispered, “to deserve someone like you?”

Lance leaned against the counter top behind him, his heart hammering in his chest. “I ask myself that all the time.”

“Oh my god, stop,” Keith groaned, but Lance could hear a smile in his voice. “I have to go to work in an hour. How am I supposed to concentrate now?”

“You’re working on your birthday?”

Lance heard a grunt and the scrape of a chair. “I always do. My birthday’s never been a big deal to me. I think Shiro wants to barbeque tonight, though.”

The coffee maker beeped, and Lance poured himself a cup. “Would it be alright if I made it a big deal?”

Keith hummed. “If that’s what a big deal is to you, then I guess I’ll just have to get used to it, won’t I?”

“Yeah, I guess you will.”

-----

Pidge forwarded an email to Lance the next week. A science conference was being held in Charlotte at the end of the month, and she was going.

“I’ll probably be gone the whole weekend. I’m driving with some classmates, so you can have the apartment to yourself.” She waggled her eyebrows. “Or maybe have someone over.”

“Pidge,” Lance chided, rolling his eyes as she laughed into her coffee.

She was right, though. Lance could have someone over. Of course, there was only one ‘someone’ in mind - but would that be too fast? To ask Keith to come stay the weekend here? Alone with Lance?

His face went hot at the thought. A whole weekend alone with Keith.

They’d only been apart from each other for a little over a month, and facetime was nice and all, but Lance missed him. In person, Keith exuded this… energy that didn’t come through a phone line or internet connection. It was sort of intoxicating, making Lance want to get closer and closer. But would that be too much?

Lance mentally beat himself up for an hour before messaging Keith on discord about it.

LanceyLance Hey so Pidge is going out of town for a conference thing just after Thanksgiving. Would you want to come down here to chill? We can livestream or smth

Keith uh yeah I think that would be okay. what days

LanceyLance nov 28-30

Keith okay cool let me check some things and I’ll get back to you

Lance wondered if “almost throwing up from sheer nerves because I might get to spend a weekend alone with a hot boy” was a good reason to call into work. He went in for his shift anyway and was only slightly distracted. On his break, Lance checked his phone and found a new message from Keith on Discord.

Keith so that weekend looks okay, I put in for time off

LanceyLance cool!

Lance ruined the next three drinks, his heart in his throat.

Later that night, he got on a voice chat with Keith, his heart pounding despite him telling it over and over to calm the hell down.

“I was thinking we could do a livestream, maybe some Overwatch?” Lance said as he picked at a cuticle. “You could be my special guest.”

Keith did that little airy chuckle that made Lance shiver. “As long as you don’t ask me to sing.”

“No promises.” Biting his lip, Lance took a breath. He might as well ask. “You sure you’re okay with this? It’s not, like, moving too fast?”

Keith hummed. “No? I mean, I figured we were just gonna hang out… Why?” his voice dropped. “Did you have other plans?”

“No,” Lance squawked, cursing how his voice cracked. “No, I mean, you said you wanted to go slow, so I was just thinking we could just play some games, maybe watch a movie or go to the marina. That’s okay, right…?”

“Yeah,” Keith breathed, and Lance could hear the smile. “Yeah, that’s cool.”

A hot wash of embarrassment hit Lance, and he covered his face and groaned. Keith laughed a little. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Lance’s voice was muffled by his hands. “Yeah. I just -- jeeze. I must sound desperate or something.”

“It’s not just you,” Keith said softly. “I mean, same, I guess? I know I said I wanted to take this slow, but honestly, it’s turning out to be harder than I expected.”

The admission was unexpected and sent Lance’s blood pressure through the roof. He could already tell it was going to be a struggle to keep his hands to himself.

-----

One week until Keith’s visit. Pidge was packing her bag early and giving Lance absolute hell about it.

“Use protection,” she said, stuffing a shirt into a suitcase. Lance sputtered.

“Oh knock it off!” He shrieked. “He’s coming to hang out. That’s it!”

Pidge shot him a skeptical look as she folded a pair of jeans over her arm. “Sure, sure. Just do me a favor and disinfect any surfaces you decided to ‘hang out’ on.”

Lance threw up his arms in defeat, then went to his computer. He and Keith had already planned out their livestream, and decided it was close enough to make an announcement.

Lance! @lanceylance Hey everyone! Next Friday (11/28) I’ll be holding a livestream with special guest @k_redlion! Stream begins at 4pm eastern. Be there!!

.

Pidge left early Friday morning, and in the four hours until Keith was supposed to arrive, Lance did one of the most thorough cleanings of the apartment he’d ever done. He dusted, vacuumed, scrubbed and mopped, did laundry and the dishes, changed the sheets on his bed, washed the spare set of sheets for the pull out sofa.

Satisfied, he jumped in the shower and gave himself and equally thorough scrub down. He was all nerves as he dried off and dressed. He was admiring his handiwork in the living room when his phone buzzed.

Keith made it into town, be there in 10

Lance bounced on his heels and went outside to wait. After a few minutes, a dark blue sedan with Virginia plates pulled up and into a parking spot. The engine shut off, and the door opened to reveal Keith, in his leather jacket with his hair pulled up high.

“Nice car,” was the first thing that came out of Lance’s mouth. He internally groaned.

“Rental,” Keith said, closing the driver’s door and going for the back seat. “I love my bike, but five hours on it is a bit much, especially when it’s cold.”

Lance took Keith’s duffel bag for him and led him up to the apartment. He’d set up their streaming area in the living room where they’d be closest to the router.

“The stream isn’t for another three hours,” Lance said, setting Keith’s bag on the chair. “Wanna relax until then?”

Keith slipped out of his jacket, revealing a dark gray sweater that stretched nicely across his chest. “Sounds good. That drive is a little tiring.”

Once Lance had gotten them both glasses of water from the kitchen, they decided on YouTube fail videos, sitting next to each other on the couch, close, but not too close. Keith’s laugh was such a nice sound, and Lance couldn’t help but lean a little in his direction. After an hour’s worth of cats and people slipping and falling, Keith grunted, grimacing.

“You okay?” Lance asked.

Keith gave him a smile. “Yeah, my stomach’s kind of upset. That gas station poptart might not have been a good idea.”

Standing, Lance moved towards the kitchen. “I’ve got some pickled ginger in the fridge, would that help?”

Keith followed him. “Yeah, probably.”

As soon as Lance opened his fridge, horror dawned upon him. “I didn’t get us any stream snacks!”

“It’s not a big deal?” Keith said slowly. Lance handed him the jar of sushi ginger and shook his head.

“It totally is! We need proper junk food for streaming.” He pursed his lips and tapped his chin. “Are you okay if I hit the store? It won’t take long.”

Keith shrugged with the jar in his hand. “Yeah, I’m good. I’ll just hang out and rest.”

He showed Keith where the forks were, taking a little delight in seeing how Keith ate the ginger straight out of the jar just like he did, then grabbed his shopping bags. “I’ve got my phone, text me if you want anything!”

The drive to the store was short, and Lance sped through the aisles with a basket on his arm. Gourmet sodas, the nice veggie chips, lemon cream cookies, a package of fresh strawberries. He’d take Keith out for dinner, maybe Vinnie’s again. This weekend was going to be awesome.

On the way home, however, Lance got stuck in stand-still traffic - he could see just far enough ahead to tell there had been an accident. And there was nowhere for him to turn off to for another few hundred feet, so he was stuck. Frowning, he pulled out his phone and shot a text to Keith.

stuck in traffic, might be a little late

He put Pandora on his phone and turned up the volume, shifting his car into park.

By the time Lance made it back to the apartment, he’d been gone for more than an hour and a half. The living room was empty, but Lance went straight for the kitchen. The stream was set to start in 45 minutes, so they needed to start setting up. “Keith?” Lance called as he stashed the groceries in the fridge. “You good, man? We should get started soon.”

There was no answer.

“Keith?” Lance poked his head out of the kitchen. “You here?” He pulled his phone out of his pocket to see if he’d missed a text as he went towards the back of the apartment. Rounding a corner, Lance stopped. His phone clattered to the floor.

Just outside the bathroom, face down in the hallway, was Keith.

Lance slid on his knees towards him. “Keith!” Reaching for him, he turned Keith over, and gasped. His face was bright red, his eyes screwed shut. He was sweating profusely and burning up with a fever. “Keith!” Lance called again. “Hey, man, answer me!”

Keith’s eyes flickered. “L-lance?” he grunted, his voice weak. “It hurts, oh god Lance, it hurts so bad--”

Adrenaline was dumping into Lance’s bloodstream as he went into full panic mode. “What hurts? What’s wrong? Keith!” But Keith stopped responding, his breathing sounding wheezy and shallow.

“Shit,” Lance muttered, clutching Keith close to his chest. “Shit shit shit!”

His phone was five feet away. He should call 911. But who knows how long an ambulance would take and the hospital was five minutes away, he could get there faster on his own--

Lance had grabbed his phone and hoisted Keith into his arms before he realized it. And shit, Keith was heavy, making Lance stumble and lean against a wall more than once as he made it out of his apartment and to his car, where he dropped  Keith on the back seat.

He’d never driven so aggressively in his life.

Lance screeched to a halt outside the ER doors, and barely managed to put his car in park. He opened the back door and pulled Keith out, hooking one of Keiths’ arms around his neck and half-carrying him inside.

“Hey,” he called out. “Hey, I need some help here--”

At his side, Keith made a choking sound, then curled in on himself and vomited.

The whole world became too fast and too slow. Several nurses ran up to them, pulling Keith away. A clattering gurney was brought out. As Keith’s limp body was hoisted on to it, Lance barely registered someone talking to him, asking him what happened.

“I don’t know,” Lance’s throat was closing. “I don’t know, he was fine two hours ago--”

More questions, but Lance couldn’t hear them. All he could focus on was Keith, unconscious on a hospital stretcher, disappearing down a hallway as nurses ran beside him.

.

TO BE CONTINUED!!

(don’t worry guys, Keith is gonna be fine!! But Lance doesn’t know that OvO)

[katana-no-neko]

Not to plug these prompts any harder than I already have but uhhh

This is just that prompt list of lyrics from my playlist, just all in one post because I couldn’t be bothered to reblog all four of them again

Baby, you were my picket fence

Anything you say can and will be held against you so only say my name

When the world gets too heavy, put it on my back; I'll be your levy

The sound of your voice puts the pain in reverse

What are you waiting for? Kiss her, kiss her

Turn on the charm for me tonight

All of your tears will dry faster in the sun

I never knew anybody til I knew you

I live a boring story alone without you

Will you be my Romeo and steal me out of this fairy tale?

I'll seduce your little captivated heart- Now I see the part that was never my goal; you've captured my soul

I knew if I'm with you, I would wish for nothing more

Does she know that my destiny lies with her?

You were the song stuck in my head

If you felt invisible, I won't let you feel that now

You're the one habit I just can't kick

So let's go, we'll take it out of here

You and I were fireworks

I miss your early morning company

I wish I'd known you loved me

Show me your love before the world catches up

We don't talk much, not anymore; but we still care about each other

'Cause that's when I was introduced to true serendipity; I knew it when you showed up again

Dear, let me hear your voice once more; leave me only good memories even if you’re unreachable

I try to smile but every time we grow distant, my heart aches and I want to cry

The warmth from touching your fingertips is still here; I just can't lie to myself

I'm going to see you; There doesn’t have to be a reason why

If you ever need somebody, even when all your hope runs out, I believe in you

You were forbidden to talk to me, but... I want to know your name

Bruises on your thighs like my fingerprints

They were young and independent and they thought they had it planned

Lately I've been losing sleep, dreaming about the things that we could be

We're sleepy, but we won't sleep, for we don't want today to end yet

Painful things will still be painful, but we shall overcome them with the two of us

You can sleep now - It's okay, I'll protect you

We should've known that we'd grow up sooner or later, 'cause we wasted all our free time alone

Some days nothing ever goes right, but when your hand is in mine, you've got me floating on cloud nine

Take my hand and take a deep breath, and we'll ride off into the sunset

Falling too fast to prepare for this

I'll use every last ounce of strength I have to grasp that hand of yours

It's like a prank from the gods, pulling us two cruelly apart

You are the sun and I am just the planets

That ultra kind of love you never walk away from

We do it in the dark with smiles on our faces; we're dropped and well concealed in secret places

Does your husband know the way that the sunshine gleams from your wedding band

Don't pretend you ever forgot about me

I was so young and reckless; it was all a blur but there you were

When the sparks flew between us, I saw you glow and had to know where our journey would lead us

I'm so bad at goodbyes; I hold my breath and close my eyes

Awake with you is better than a dream

Could we just forget this and go back to the way we were? Please? Please!?

I meant everything I said that night

Don't wanna let you down, but I am hell-bound

When you feel my heat, look into my eyes

Don't get too close, it's dark inside; it's where my demons hide

You make me feel like I'm alive again

You say I can't understand, but you're not giving me a chance

I've never heard a better sound than when you're whimpering my name

Got me dialing your number just to hear ya

This is surely my punishment. After all, I've forgotten my place and fell in love

From the start, I knew something like this was impossible; Still, I...

Take me into your loving arms; kiss me under the light of a thousand stars; place your head on my beating heart

I know it's just a dream, but let me feel your hand in mine a little more so I won't forget it

Oh no, I think I may be falling in love

You're such a weirdo sometimes, but I'm still falling for you

I'll do my best not to let you down, so feet don't fail me now

You were trembling a bit when you gave me a childish kiss

Fight off the light tonight and just stay with me; Honey, don't you leave

I try to picture me without you but I can't

Simple and clean is the way that you're making me feel tonight; it's hard to let it go

This dream won't last forever, knowing that but even so, I cannot stow away my feelings for you

Drowning in this curse, our love will never be fulfilled

The princess is awakened, a year falls down her cheek; the Prince wipes it away and takes her tenderly into his arms

Waiting for the day of reunion, I count time and walk along

I can't even look you in the eye; I won't fall for love, not me!

Do you remember the way I held your hand under the lamp post?

I don't wanna forget how your voice sounds

A constellation of tears on your lashes

I don't need the stars in the night, I found my treasure

Hey Mama, I might have found somebody that I really like

Pouting lips in glittering pink, wanna come and give 'em a taste?

I see you staring at my neckline, plunging, tempting, but it's fine. Three inch heels, just the right height; enough for you to grab and hold me tight

Won't say I love you, that's crazy you see

Our meeting has long been decided; it's fate that one day we clash in bloody war

Devoured by the flame of grief, my vision is clouded in red

I think I fell in love again; maybe I just took too much cough medicine

Time goes by and still I'm stuck on you

Eyes getting wet, "Don't be upset", but my heart really wants to cry "Don't go away yet!"

I want to share all your sorrows; give me all your pain

Before I knew it, the sky had cleared up and the stars sparkle pretty tonight. But why does my heart feel kinda tight?

I know it's just a number, but you're the 8th wonder

I've got more wit, a better kiss, a hotter touch, a better fuck than any other boy you'll ever meet

Exchanging body heat in the passenger seat

Tell me again, was it love at first sight, when I walked by and you caught my eye?

Darling, I can't focus on anything; I can't even sleep at night; it's like I'm under some kind of spell!

Deceiving even my heart, I point my blade at you

How many nights do I have to get through to see you?

I can't not be with you or be just your friend; I love you to death but I just can't pretend

I kiss the falling tears that slip from your eyes

Down through the stained glass window panes, the light from the moon drapes on your shoulders like a veil

If God will have mercy then please let me stay right here as I count your every heartbeat

I couldn't bear to wake you, keep on sleeping; just the two of us swaying here on this train ride home

I just wanna get a little closer, just to check on your feelings... And the smell of your hair

You suddenly smile and say 'Sorry, but I can't wait any longer' and then our faces come together; a surprise attack, making my heart go crazy

I'm standing on your front porch saying 'Don't go'

Wishing to be the friction in your jeans

Isn't it messed up how I'm just dying to be him?

Something about the way that you walked into my living room, casually and confident and lookin' at the mess I am, but still you want me

If I told you what I was, would you turn your back on me?

I will always be a tortured soul; don't fix me up, just let me go

Maybe you expected that I'd turn back and go home, but I couldn't let you sink all alone

I confessed to you riding shotgun underneath the purple skies

Last night you were in my room and now my bedsheets smell like you

Let's not talk too much; grab on my waist and put that body on me; come on now, follow my lead

I don't wanna say goodbye; it's tearing me up inside; I just can't get you off my mind

[sunny1ace]

Fix You - Part 3.3 of the FamAU

Characters: Logan Sanders, Patton Hart, Janus Viper

Summary: Patton feels like his chances are slipping away from him

Words: 2900

Warnings: Repression, anxiety, sad feelings, let me know if I should add any more :)

A/N: UgH I don’t like this but it’s been sitting in my drafts for months so I just gotta buckle up and post it

Taglist (let me know if I should add you or take you off): @espepspes @kaileah-kat @i-need-you-buddy

***

Patton doesn’t mind mornings, the light shining through the window, the birds singing, the sound of campus waking up and the occasional bark of a dog.

This morning though, he’d rather just go to sleep.

He was up until one in the morning, just staring at his ceiling, doing nothing. He might’ve gotten up to draw or work on some homework, but he didn’t want to wake up his roommate.

The roommate who apparently doesn’t have the same politeness towards him because he throws a shirt at Patton’s face rather abruptly before either of their alarms even go off.

Patton grabs it and sits up, raising his eyebrows at Dee. “Something wrong?”

Dee looks bored. He generally does, really. Patton has learned to see through it.

“Patton, dear, if you don’t get up and go, you’ll miss your morning rendezvous with specs.”

Patton blinks at him a few times, then flops back down on his bed.

Across the room, Dee sighs. “What is it then?”

“There’s only a week left!” Patton covers his face, sticking his legs in the air and probably looking ridiculous.

“Then tell him.”

Rolling sideways and off the bed, Patton stands, making a pouty face. Dee is staring at him like he looked at the cat Patton brought in from the rain last year. “I can’t just tell him! What if… what if he hates me?”

“Of course, love. After four years of following you around like some love sick cyber puppy, I’m sure he hates you.”

“Really?”

“No!”

Patton loves Dee, he very much does, after bunking with him for four years, how could he not?

That being said, he might be on the brink of shooting Dee one of his famous condescending glares right back.

“Well you could be a little clearer, kiddo.”

Dee sighs for the third time. “Come on, Patton-pouter, I’ll walk you outside.”

Excited, because Patton rarely has time to spend with his friend anymore except at night, Patton pulls on his shirt and shoes in record time. “Are you meeting Maeve?”

“Later,” Dee says, and he goes just a little red at that. “She wants to go over her Welfare project. Again.”

“I’m sure she’s just being thorough!” Patton says brightly, pocketing his phone and throwing open the door.

Dee shuffles through with a grumbled, “Thoroughly obnoxious.”

Patton watches as he flips his hair back from his face, and doesn’t try to hide the proud smile when he doesn’t duck his head to cover the large scar on the left side of his face, even after Dee sticks his tongue out at him.

“Oh, don’t be like that! I’m just glad you’ve decided to stop hiding!”

“It’s been almost a year, Patton. Are you ever going to stop mentioning it every morning?”

“Nope!”

Patton smiles brighter when Dee turns away, barely concealing a small smile.

His smile falters slightly as he looks down at his shoulders. He opens the door again and leans into the room just far enough to pull his cardigan off the coat hook inside. Patton rubs the fabric between his hands and stares at it.

“I am aware of your- er- fascination with cats. So I’ve gotten you a gift… if you’d like it, of course.”

“Lo! This is absolutely purr-fect!”

“Oh god.”

Patton snaps out of the memory when Dee waves a hand in front of his face, and knocks his chin up with a finger. “Come on, you’ll be late.”

Nodding, Patton throws the cat-cardigan over his shoulders and ties it securely.

“Don’t you ever wear it?”

“How would I take it off fast enough to give it to someone who needs comfort?”

Dee goes just a little bit red, and he scoffs and shakes his head. “You’re impossible.”

“You’re pretty!” Patton giggles when that makes Dee turn even redder.

The two walk side by side, and Patton shuffles his feet just a little more than usual. Sure, he’s always happy to see Logan! It’s just…

Just what? Patton bites his lip and shakes his head, taking deep breaths until he can smile without it shaking.

He’s excited to see Logan. That’s it. No deeper meaning, no hidden sadness. He’s happy.

Patton is happy.

Dee opens the door out of their dorm building, leaning against it with one hand in his pocket and looking very much like the lawyer he’s studying to be. “See you this afternoon, darling.”

“Have fun with Maeve!” Patton calls, waving his entire hand so it flaps around on his wrist. Dee snorts and gives him a two finger salute before going back inside.

Looking around, Patton takes a deep breath, letting the smells of campus flow through him.

Leaves and fresh cut grass, coffee and waffles, it smells like fall.

“How can something… smell like a season?”

“You know! How winter smells cold, How summer smells like the beach-“

“We’re nowhere near a beach, Patton.”

“It’s the idea of the thing!”

“I thought it was a smell?”

Patton laughs out loud at the memory, reaching up to pull at a few of his curls, measuring them to his nose absentmindedly as he walks.

He passes a tree, and stops at a chirping sound. He turns and tilts his head at the bird a foot from his face, and he could’ve sworn the bird tilted its head back. “Hi there little guy! I hope I didn’t interrupt your morning song!”

The bird chirps three times, fluttering its wings and hopping to a higher branch.

“You’re beautiful,” Patton tells it with a wave, and continues on his way. He thinks it’s a woodpecker. Logan would know.

It’s about three minutes later when he sees Logan ahead of him, right on time, as usual. Patton waves at him even though his back is turned, “Hey!”

Logan doesn’t stop, but his steps slow down and Patton races to catch up. “Hey Logan!” He says again, maybe a little louder than necessary.

He debates giving Logan a hug, but decides on a light hip tap so as not to invade his space without warning. “How are you?”

Logan nods, and when he adjusts his glasses Patton has the sudden urge to do the same, so he does, and his ears turn pink even when Logan doesn’t notice.

“I am well,” his friend says, and Patton gives him a once over.

His face is slacker than usual, he’s slouching more than usual (though it’s still barely at all) and his tie is crooked. It takes all Patton has to not reach out and adjust it. “You sure? You’re looking a bit tired.”

“That would be because I am,” Logan replies, and his heart sinks. Then Logan smiles at him, and Patton can’t help but smile back. “Not to worry, one bad night of sleep won't stop me from functioning properly.”

Patton guesses it’s been more than one night. He doesn’t comment on it, mostly because that would be a weird follow up to the giggle that escapes him because Logan is so gosh darn cute.

They’re quiet for a few minutes, and Patton focuses on the sidewalk, stepping over cracks and occasionally veering off to look at pretty yellow dandelions. On one of the flowers is a ladybug, and he crouches down next to it to watch it crawl between the itty bitty petals.

“How are you, Patton?”

Patton stands, messing with his cardigan sleeves so Logan can’t tell his hands are shaking. He grins as wide as he can, “I’m awesome! On the way here I saw a woodpecker!”

Patton doesn’t miss the way Logan slows to walk with him, and for some reason it makes his throat hurt.

“Considering where we are,” Logan starts in his teaching voice, and Patton’s throat gets tighter. “It’s more likely you saw a Northern Flicker. They do look quite alike.”

Getting an idea and jumping on it, Patton makes a face at Logan, “Do you want to see my impression of a Northern Flicker?”

Logan looks hesitant, eyeing him warily, and then nods.

Patton grins wider and points his hand north, and starts flicking.

“I don’t see how that resembles a bir- oh.” Logan’s face turns exasperated. “Oh because you’re flicking to the north- that’s- that’s completely awful.”

“You love me,” Patton coos dramatically.

He regrets it the second he says it.

“Do you have lunch plans today?” Logan asks, maybe a little too quickly.

Patton tells himself very sternly in his head not to cry. He reties his cardigan to have something to do and shakes his head, “Nope! None.”

Quiet. Patton blinks rapidly.

Logan clears his throat and for a horrifying second Patton thinks he’s going to ask why in the world would Patton thinks he loves him because they’re only friends and besides they’ll be strangers in a week and-

“Would you like to attend lunch together?”

Patton almost passes out in relief. He clasps his hands behind him, another way to hide the shaking. “Yeah! We’ve been friends long enough that you don’t have to ask anymore, Lo.”

Logan trips a little, but keeps his eyes ahead. Patton wonders just how tired he really is.

The coffee shop door swings open when Logan pushes at it, and Patton bounces through.

Almost everyone in the coffee shop waves at him or says hi, and it makes Patton’s insides warm. He passes Eliot on their way out the door, and the student waves at him, “Hey Patt!”

“Eliot! Hey!” Patton waves back, and his eyes go wide as he remembers the talk they had in Animal Sciences two days ago. “How’d the English final go?”

“Aced it!”

The warm feeling in Patton’s chest gets bigger. “Aw, kiddo! I knew you could!”

Eliot snorts and changes the topic, Patton doesn’t argue. Compliments are hard sometimes. “Getting coffee for Professor Aldridge again?”

“You bet!”

“Man, if I didn’t know you any better, I’d say you’re a suck up!”

Patton laughs as they leave with a friend, turning back to the counter to decide what to get. Logan leans over his shoulder, and goosebumps raise on the back of Patton’s neck. Logan being close to him is.. really nice.

“If they did know you any better, they’d know you are, in fact, a suckup.”

Patton gasps, and his face is red from Logan’s breath on his shoulder but he pretends it’s because of the accusation. He pushes Logan just a little, and almost pouts when he stays far away. “Am not! I just like doing nice things for people… and if it happens to make some professors more inclined to give me extensions more often… that’s pretty neat!”

“I’m fairly certain that’s the definition of a suck up.”

“Coffee, Lo?” Patton asks, smiling despite his red hot ears and cheeks.

Logan chuckles, and Patton wants to kiss him. “Buying me something to get out of a conversation? That’s a bribe. Which is a crime in some states.”

“I guess that makes me a criminal,” Patton starts, raising an eyebrow at Logan who is looking increasingly distressed, “criminally-“

“Black coffee if you don’t mind,” Logan interrupts.

Patton giggles and pulls out his wallet, paying for both their drinks and the Professors.

“I could pay for them this time, Patton.”

“You could!” Patton agrees, but makes no move to let him. “Don’t worry about it. I dragged you here anyway!”

“On the contrary. You didn’t drag me anywhere.”

Smile softening, Patton doesn’t know if he wants to cry because he’s happy, or because he’s lovesick. “No, I guess I didn’t.”

Outside the coffee shop once again, Patton walks slowly with both his cups, not wanting Logan and his morning walk to end. He blows on his hot coco and side eyes Logan. “Are you… nervous about leaving school?”

Are you nervous about leaving me? Is what he wants to ask.

Patton watches as Logan takes a sip of his coffee, wincing at how hot it is. He doesn’t say anything.

“I’m nervous,” Patton blurts, not being able to stand the quiet any longer. “After this it’s just us against the world, you know? The future we’ve been preparing for since preschool is finally here and… I’m not ready at all.”

Logan looks at Patton with wide eyes and a frown, and Patton fidgets where he walks. “You aren’t ready? Are you alright?”

Patton shuffles his feet for a few steps, widening his smile to hide his anxiety, “Of course I’m alright! Just a little apprehensive is all.”

“Patton..” Logan slows and lightly bumps his hip into Patton, “you can talk to me.”

“I know I can!” Patton wiggles his eyebrows, desperately trying to get back the happy mood, “What? Have I been speaking gibberish?”

“Ah. Humor to cope. Why am I not surprised.”

“Well aren’t you feisty today!”

“It must be due to the-“

“Like a cat.”

“-lack of sleep last night.”

“Because cats are feisty.”

Logan adjusts his glasses with a sigh. “Yes. I understood, I merely refrained from commenting on the unnecessary joke.”

“Jokes are never unnecessary!” Patton protests, and he so hopes Logan will launch into a sciencey explanation about jokes that will take up the rest of their time.

No such luck.

“If you don’t wish to tell me what’s troubling you, you don’t have to,” Logan says quietly.

Patton stalls, he doesn’t want Logan to think he doesn’t like him! It’s the opposite of that, that's the problem. “It’s not that! I trust you Lo!” He bites his lip and then shrugs. “I’m just in a funk! I’ll be back to normal me any minute!”

“Patton-“

Turning towards his own class, Patton waves, walking quickly backwards, “I’ll see you at lunch!”

Logan sighs and gives a small wave, “Have a satisfactory day Patton, I’ll see you at lunch.”

“Don’t forget how incredible you are!” Patton calls out the routine end to all their conversations since that night under the tree when Logan cried for the first time.

“I’m nothing incredible, Patton. I’m just broken.”

“Well I think you’re incredible, doesn’t that count for something?”

Patton shakes off the chills he gets and speed walks to his classroom.

He doesn’t look back.

“Mr. Hart!” Professor Aldridge says calmly, watching as Patton walks through the door. She tilts her head, “I didn’t take you for a two cup kinda guy?”

“Oh!” Patton hands her the untouched cup. “That’s for you.”

Professor Aldridge shakes her head fondly. “Thank you, Mr. Hart. That’s very kind.” She stares at him in the way she always does, like her eyes are burning holes in his forehead and reading all his secrets. “Are you alright?”

Patton nods a little insistently, “I’m great! Just tired.”

Aldridge gives him an unimpressed stare and then sighs. “I’m always here if you need it, Patton.”

“I know.” Patton tries for a smile, but it comes out as more of a half shrug and a tight line of a mouth.

Patting his hand, Aldridge nods. “I know the end of school can be hard, and very overwhelming. I’ve been where you are. Hell, I am where you are. Every time a new class graduates I lose just a little bit of me. Especially when one of those students is like you.”

Patton starts to cry.

Aldridge doesn’t stop him, she just sits there with her hand over his and nods. “I met my wife in college, did you know that?”

The shock almost makes Patton stop crying. Professor Aldridge is gay? “You- you did?”

“I did.” Aldridge pulls back to lift a picture frame of her desk and pass it to him. It’s an old picture, Professor Aldridge must have been his age. There’s a girl standing next to her in a leather jacket and a mini skirt, looking like she could kill you in a second and coo over kittens the next.

Patton looks back up at Aldridge, who’s gray hair and crows feet next to her eyes are the only reason she looks her sixty years of age.

“Marrying someone of the same sex was illegal back then, so we didn’t have much hope. We let each other go,” Professor Aldridge looks sad for a few seconds, then she smiles. “We finally found each other again, and both of us cried when our marriage was legalized. We’ve been together since.”

Patton stares at her, and his heart beats in his ears. “Do you.. think it was fate?”

“Oh no,” Aldridge says with a laugh, she takes the picture again, setting it down carefully. “I’m a science professor, I don’t believe in fate… but I do believe that if you really love someone, you’ll always find your way back to them.”

Trying not to cry again, Patton laughs wetly. “You should write a book.”

“There aren’t any books that can tell you what love is,” Aldridge replies, and Patton has the distinct notion that she isn’t talking about him.

“Thank you, Professor.”

“As always, I’m here,” she winks at him, knocking her cup against his before he heads to his seat.

He’s on the front row, like most of his classes, because glasses are great but he’s still blind, and because it’s louder in the front, the chatter of students and laughs and groans drown out whatever Patton doesn’t want to think about.

This time though, it’s not loud enough.

“if you really love someone, you’ll always find your way back to them”

He has time.

[celawrites]

Day 37

It’s 12am and my phone is buzzing and I cannot sleep. What the fuck is going on.

You have 20 new notifications

I click open our class chat first, and to my surprise, it’s all birthday messages.

Clown: Did you guys actually have to type me a whole essay? Thank you tho <3

Pebble: A well written essay!

Sam: Time well spent

My phone vibrates and I’m invited to a call from a handful of friends.

Joining Your Neighborhood Pizza delivery service’s call…

“It’s 12am let me sleep”

“Are you not happy that we’re wishing you happy birthday at 12am?”

“I am, it’s just I’m also exhausted for no reason”

“You’re going out for a McDonalds run right?”

“Yeah. You guys woke me up halfway through”

“Sorry”

“I’m sorry it’s 12am and I really wanna know who’s in this call right now”

“Ah! It would be Estelle, Beanie, Min, “

“Your son”

“Mint”

“Sun”

“What the fuck are you guys doing awake?”

“Admiring the stars”

“Sure. Totally believe you”

“Cressie it’s your birthday.”

“One year closer to my demise I guess”

“You’re insane”

“So I’ve been told”

“Ah. Check your mailbox in the morning! There should be a couple things in there”

I yawn. 6 hours of sleep isn’t enough to run on.

“Alright get to bed. Sleep your last 3 hours and I’ll be waiting for you at 3am”

“Mint you’re the most punctual out of all of us why are you picking me up?”

“I’ve never had a McDonalds run with you. Besides, It’s Friday.”

“Alright I’m sleeping now good night”

“Good night birthday girl!”

“That’s so cheesy ksjdfalfa”

Sure enough, at 3am, I wake up and find Mint outside my door, vibing in his car. I shake my head and lock the door.

“Good morning Mint”

“Morning”

“You’re mean you know that?”

“Happy birthday Mint”

“Right back at you”

“HEY REMEMBER WHEN YOU JUST STRAIGHT UP LEFT ME ON READ WHEN I WISHED YOU HAPPY BIRTHDAY-”

“I THOUGHT WE WERE OVER THAT ALREAY”

“My salty ass could never”

“Alright what do you want for your birthday?”

“Neither of us give anything-”

“Our Asian ass could never”

“HOnestly”

“Ah. I do have a present for you though”

My hand reaches into my backpack and I pull out a scrapbook.

“In true Crescent fashion, I present to you our scrapbook”

“What?”

“A collection of all the photos we have together with little commentary along the way. This is now yours” I beam.

“You’re joking”

“Nope”

“I didn’t even get you anything like his I-”

“You don’t need to”

He snickers and hands me a small box.

“I found it while shopping online, and it reminded me of that one time A gave you a rainbow rose so I figured I would give you an eternal one”

I stare at the rose. It’s rainbow, and I was surprised he even remembered that his brother had given me one.  I tear up slightly, maybe its because I wasn’t used to getting gifts from him, or the sudden change of heart but I mean-

“I’m crying”

“You’re always crying”

“SHUT UP KDFSKFSHDJF”

My hands clink at the glass softly, and Mint hums in appreciation as he flips through the scrapbook.

“Where’s this photo from?”

“Hm?”  He points at a photo where both he and his brother are jumping on the trampoline while I’m sitting.

“Your mom sent it to my mom a few years back”

“Ah”

There’s a comfortable silence that passes over us, and I decide to answer all the texts that I had received about my birthday while he flipped through the book.

After about a dozen thank you!’s and 4 conversations, I finish. Mint snickers when he flips to the last page.

“You just had to put that one last huh?”

On the last page lies Mint and I at Junior prom last year. It was a tradition to go with eachother, and my friend had taken a photo where we were pretending to make out.

”Why? Don’t want your future wife seeing it?”

“No. It’s just you saved the best for last” he snorts.

“Of course” I hum.

“Alright what do you want from McDonalds?”

“Ice cream”

“You’re literally bleeding this week no”

“Uhhh. Fries?”

“Sure”

Mint starts his car and we head off. The sky is a calm blue. A dark shade that leaves you wondering if there’s more out there. It was ironic that I had met him so long ago. It was even more surprising when he moved here for junior and senior year. I was horribly confused, and the only explanation he could muster out was a job change for his parents. But I was pretty sure they just wanted to have A mature in a different environment.

“Lost in thought again?”

“Mhm. You never told me how and why you moved here in detail”

“Nothing really. It was a job change on my parents part, and a new path for A”

“What about you?”

“I wanted to chase the only person who never gave up on me”

“You’re disgusting”

“Better than confessing to my crush every day for a whole year”

“LEAVE ME ALONE”

“You’re the one who brought up how I chased you all the way to California”

“I still wonder how you can pin after someone like me”

“At some point I realized you saw me as a brother”

“I wish I could do that.”

“You’re a hopeless romantic. Have some fun every once in a while”

“Are you implying I should have a one night stand?”

“Once you’re a legal adult sure”

“Bad decision making except it’s Mint giving me bad advice as a joke”

“I hate you”

“Love you too~”

“You’re disgusting”

“Bleh”

HE pulls up at the McDonalds drive-through and I scream.

“dEAR ARE YOU ALIVE?”

“OMG HAPPY BIRTHDAY DARLING! EVERYTHING’S ON ME TODAY”

“WTF DEAR NO”

“NO OBJECTIONS. IS MINT WITH YOU?”

“I’m here”

“Happy birthday Mint darling anyways what do you guys want?”

“The usual”

“Nothing new?”

“Nope”

“Alright! See you at the second window!”

“Cressie darling I got you a gift!”

“I- what?”

“Gift.” He tosses something through the car window and it lands in my hands.

“What is it?”

“Check”

I click open the box and I find a small pendant with a moon.

“I thought you were a broke high school student?”

“But the boss gave me a raise and told me to get something nice for my lover and like I don’t have one so I mean-”

“I don’t deserve you” I sniff.

“Stop crying darling you’re scaring me”

I really hope you find yourself a lover this year or I will fight everyone around me I SWEAR”

“You’re being too loud again Cress”

“Sorry”

He hands us our food and waves us goodbye. It was funny to me. I had so many friends around me now that I had grown.

“Are you gonna make a birthday post?”

“Oh for Serenity!” I gasp.

I type away and Mint steals a couple fries from me. I hiss at him while typing.

“Too bad” he shrugs.

School rolls around and I ‘m met with 20 happy birthdays and a couple gifts fro my other friends. Surprise surprise I have other friends. Z and Sun’s gift surprises me the most.

“Cress” Sun calls for me after school.

“Hm?”

“Happy birthday” He hands a medium-sized box to me.

“You always make us scrapbooks for our birthdays so I thought I’d try to make one for you”

“Have I ever told you how much I love you-”

“You remind me pretty often but yeah”

I open the box and a seat little scrapbook sits inside. There’s a white pen, a silver one, and a gold pen rolling around next to it, and there’s a small letter. Z tackles me from behind and I crash into Sun’s chest.

“Z what the f-”

“Language” Sun glares.

“Your gift!” Z hands me a small photo sized box.

“Photos?”

“You made a whole batch with notes on the back for me so I decided to print a bunch for you!”

“Thank you Z” I sniff slightly.

“What’s wrong! Do you not like it?”

“No no! I’m emotional haha” I muster up a smile. My cursed birthday luck was gonna catch up with me soon. I just felt it.

“No worries! It was the least I could do” Z smiles.

I nod in response. The rest of the day carries out like normal, and I find myself tired by the end of the day. My classmates threw me a party, and at the end of the day, my friends threw me another one. I enjoyed it, but I was waiting for my cursed birthday luck to catch up to me, I could never be happy until it occurred.

“If you’re thinking about that birthday curse of yours again, I’d advise you to know that with me, there’s no chance of having bad birthday luck” Mint hums. His birthdays had no bad things. It was like the universe favored him.

“I know. But I can’t truly calm down until I get to bed”

There’s a comfortable silence that settles down before Mint speaks up again.

“I’m sorry”

“Why so?”

“You had always wished me happy birthday so consistently, and I never replied and I just feel really bad and all-”

“Don’t worry about it.” I tap at the red solo cup in my hand. “I probably deserved all that”

“You don’t and that’s why I kind of. Um”

“Mint you’re my editor what did you do-”

“Bought tickets back home?” I gape at him. My jaw is dropped, and he seems to panic. “My home’s open and all! I know your house is rented out and the renters for my place just moved out and we have thanksgiving in a month so I figured I would take you back for the break and I’m sorry! I probably should’ve asked first and all but-”

A choked sob escapes my lips. I’m shocked, I hadn’t gone home in so long. How did he know? A stream of incoherent words escapes my lips and Mint tries to soothe me.

“You know.” I managed to force it out. “Some days I question why I stopped crushing on you. You spoil me rotten, and I don’t even deserve someone who cares for me and knows me like you and you always seem to know how I’m feeling and-”

Mint rubs soft circles on my back, and I let out my emotions. My birthday curse wasn’t a curse. It was a tradition. A tradition to cry at least once on my birthday, and for the first time, I was crying tears of joy. A couple minutes pass, and I feel my emotions slowly draw back.

“Thank you” I mumbled weakly.

Serenity made a new post!

It’s my birthday! Thank you to all of you who sent in birthday wishes (and death threats)! Another year has passed and I truly wish that I could thank you all face to face for the support!

Once again, my lovely editor Leaf shares a birthday with me so go ahead and send in some birthday wishes to him as well. For today’s gift from me, you all get a blast of joy! Much love!

-Serenity

Previous : Masterlist : Next

[badliares]

* 𝙼𝙾𝙳𝙴𝚁𝙽 𝙿𝙾𝙿 𝚂𝙾𝙽𝙶𝚂 𝚁𝙿 𝙼𝙴𝙼𝙴.

taken from all pop songs (mostly 2018 - 2019) from various artists. feel free to change any pronouns or sentence structure according to your muse’s preferences.

❝   lately i’ve been thinking, i want you to be happier.   ❞

❝   only for a minute, i want to change my mind.   ❞

❝   i wanna raise your spirits.   ❞

❝   i want to see you smile, but know that means i’ll have to leave.   ❞

❝   the image of you with someone is eating me up inside.   ❞

❝   we’ve run our course. we pretended we’re okay.   ❞

❝   this just don’t feel right to me.   ❞

❝   when the morning comes, we will see what we’ve become.   ❞

❝   it’s been seven minutes now since i’ve lost my way.   ❞

❝   it doesn’t seem that long but my whole world’s changed.   ❞

❝   it’s been seven minutes since i’ve lost the girl of my dreams.   ❞

❝   now i sink a little deeper, think a little clearer.   ❞

❝   is it too late to turn around? i’m already halfway out of town.   ❞

❝   i know how i let you down.   ❞

❝   i finally figure it out: i forgot to love you.   ❞

❝   radio’s playing song for me and you.   ❞

❝   how the hell did i end up losing you?   ❞

❝   if i came back now, would you still be there?   ❞

❝   if i come around, would you even care?   ❞

❝   i’m so tired of love songs.   ❞

❝   just wanna go home.   ❞

❝   i’m trying my best to meet somebody.   ❞

❝   everybody’s falling in love to our song.   ❞

❝   i’m killing my lonely nights with strangers.   ❞

❝   when they leave, i go back to our song.   ❞

❝   it hurts like heaven.   ❞

❝   can’t unmiss you, and i need you now.   ❞

❝   hush my dear, it’s been a difficult year.   ❞

❝   terrors don’t prey on innocent victims.   ❞

❝   trust me, darling.   ❞

❝   it’s been a loveless year.   ❞

❝   i’m a man of three fears: integrity, faith, and crocodile tears.   ❞

❝   look me in the eyes, tell me what you see.   ❞

❝   i wish i could make your heart believe.   ❞

❝   i’m a bad liar.   ❞

❝   now you know; you’re free to go.   ❞

❝   did all my dreams never mean one thing?   ❞

❝   i take my gun to the enemy's side.   ❞

❝   i cannot hold my tongue, you gave me much to say.   ❞

❝   lying on the beach, in the middle of december.   ❞

❝   i’m thinking you’re too cool to even remember my face, my hair, my eyes, my lips and my name.   ❞

❝   your confidence is what i want.   ❞

❝   i’m loud ‘cause maybe you’re the one.    ❞

❝   i know i talk too much.   ❞

❝   i'm sweating bullets; nervous that you’d push away.   ❞

❝   so give me your two lips, and maybe i’ll shut up.   ❞

❝   you’re dressing all black in the middle of summer.   ❞

❝   you’re smoother than you think.   ❞

❝   your arms wrapped in leather - makes me want you forever.   ❞

❝   i cannot break this habit: pure anxiety.   ❞

❝   maybe i’ll just slow it down.   ❞

❝   i ain’t no stupid barbie doll.   ❞

❝   well, there you go again: telling me where i belong.   ❞

❝   you think i’m empty? i’m not.   ❞

❝   i’m a babe, i’m a boss, and i’m making these money.   ❞

❝   you won’t be so confident when i’m crushing you from the top.   ❞

❝   i can flip like a switch, and i cut like a blade.   ❞

❝   you call me, all friendly. telling me how much you miss me.   ❞

❝   go find somebody who would listen.   ❞

❝   i cut you off. i don’t need your love.   ❞

❝   you can try all you want but your time is up.   ❞

❝   save it, get gone, shut up.   ❞

❝   if you think i care about you now... well, i don’t give a fuck.   ❞

❝   this world can hurt you. it cuts you deep and leave a scar.   ❞

❝   things fall apart, but nothing breaks like a heart.   ❞

❝   we got all night to fall in love, and just like that we fall apart.   ❞

❝   nothing’s going to save us now.   ❞

❝   yeah, i just wanna drink tequila with my friends.   ❞

❝   the more i read it, the more i take offence.   ❞

❝   i post pictures of myself because i’m lonely.   ❞

❝   i just want this shit to end.   ❞

❝   i’m talking to myself - shit. now they think i’m crazy.   ❞

❝   found you when your heart was broken.   ❞

❝   i was afraid to leave you on your own.   ❞

❝   i said i’ll catch you if you fall.   ❞

❝   tell me how’s it feel sitting up there? feeling so high but you’re too far away to hold me.   ❞

❝   if they laugh, then fuck them all.   ❞

❝   does it ever get lonely?   ❞

❝   i’m eleven minutes away, and i’ve missed you all day.   ❞

❝   why aren’t you here?   ❞

❝   yeah, i've seen you in my head every fuckin' day since i left.   ❞

❝   all i want is your head on my chest.   ❞

❝   tell me what you need, i can make you more than what you are.   ❞

❝   call me stupid, call me sad - you’re the best i’ve ever had.   ❞

[go4blood]

you’re the one that i want - a.i.

I’m finally continuing the broadway series after 2653578 years! I’ve been having writers block, sorry about the lack of posts! This is based around Grease, y/n is Sandy, Ashton is Danny. Basically y/n is new to showbiz and Ashton shows her the ropes, friends to lovers trope, you know how we do.

2.5k words

You paced around your small apartment anxiously: it was callback day. Callback day was the most stressful time for anyone in the theatre world. Today was the day you find out if you made the cut to be apart of Grease or if you didn’t do good enough to make the director even bat an eye. You did a lot of theatre back when you lived in Chicago, but New York was different. More competitive. Thousands watching rather than a few hundred. Tourists traveling and spending hundreds on a good seat rather than some regular Chicagoans buying a ticket for twenty dollars. New York was showbiz central.

You took pride in your acting. Back in Chicago, you had countless roles you loved playing: Sally Bowles in Cabaret, Elphaba in Wicked, Zoe in Dear Evan Hansen, and more. But Chicago is way less competitive than the big apple. You knew the theatre world back home, but you didn’t know it here at all.

Your phone rang and you scrambled to pick it up and answer. You contain yourself and say a simple hello. A man's voice is on the other line. You’ve been offered another audition to further your audition process for the part of Sandy. You gladly say yes and end the conversation. You were relieved that you had another audition, but it was still terrifying. You could screw it up and lose your chance. Grease is a classic, and it has to be perfect. Callbacks were the next morning, so you went to bed early and waited for what was to come.

—

You arrived with an open mind. Around ten other girls were there. 10 girls who want to be Sandy. 10 girls who want this role just as much as you. Maybe more than you. If you were lucky you’d get a chorus member at this rate.

A tall man with light brown hair and hazel eyes walks around, greeting the girls. He has a kind smile paired with a silk red shirt and tight black pants, iced coffee in hand. You see him start to walk towards you and you’re slightly confused.

“Hey, how are you? I’m apart of the cast and could possibly end up being your Danny, and we’ll be performing some scenes together for your 2nd audition. I wanted to introduce myself, I’m Ashton.” He holds his hand out and you take it, shaking it and smiling.

“I’m y/n, it’s nice to meet you. Is this your first broadway show?”

He ponders for a moment, “This is my 5th, actually. I did stuff back in Sydney though before I came to New York. You?”

You begin to feel embarrassed. You have absolutely no broadway experience whatsoever. “This is my first broadway show… in Chicago I did stuff though. But nothing here in New York yet.”

“Well you got a callback for the lead so I think you’re in good shape, y/n.” He smiled warmly.

He was different from other actors you’ve met. Many were arrogant and were only there to do their part and leave. He cheered you on despite never meeting you. It was a pleasant surprise.

“Perhaps I am, Ashton.” He smiled and walked to a seat, and you did the same. The director handed out excerpts and began calling names. You watched some of the girls perform scenes and they were all quite impressive. You were very unsure of yourself. You kept growing more and more nervous and you didn’t know if you’d compare to everyone else.

“Y/n! Scene 11, the drive in scene.”

You stand up from your seat and take a deep breath, walking up to the stage.

Ashton cleared his throat, looking at the script then into your eyes, “Hey, you’re not with another guy, are you?”

“No, why?” Your eyes glance down at the script and back into his eyes.

Ashton acts nervous and nonchalant, “No reason… I uh wanted to ask you to take my ring.” He holds out his hand as if there’s a ring there and pretends to put it on your finger. The scene continues, and before you even have a chance to read the stage direction he kisses you. Your cheeks burn and you continue the scene, finishing it out. Ashton smiles at you and goes back to his seat as you do your singing portion of the audition to the song Hopelessly Devoted To You. You go back to your seat, wondering if what you did would be enough.

The last few girls perform and everyone is dismissed. As you put your jacket on, Ashton walks towards you with a soft smile.

“You did really good, I told you it’d be fine. You wanna maybe get lunch? There’s this place down the street you need to try if you’re gonna be a true New Yorker!”

“Sure, why not?” You walk with him to the small restaurant, talking as if you have known him your whole life.

—

“Your favorite movie is Kill Bill? I never would’ve guessed that…” Ashton was sat across from you at the sandwich shop, asking you a series of ‘get to know me’ questions.

“Uma Thurman is my girl crush,” You smirk, “what’s your favorite show?”

“Definitely Brooklyn 9-9. It isn’t deep or anything and it’s just a comedy, but it’s my happy place, what about you?”

“I love Gossip Girl… I know it’s such a girly show but I really like it.” You blush out of embarrassment, but he breaks out into a grin.

“I love Gossip Girl! I watched it with my sister all the time back home. It’s a great show.”

Surprised is an understatement. You never knew a guy could be such a softie. You smile out of relief and drink your tea as He rapid fires questions to you for the next hour.

—

You got the call the next morning. You were officially Sandy. In celebration, he’s hanging out at your apartment and he brought cheap boxed wine.

“What if I’m not cut out for broadway, Ash? What if everyone walks all over me? I don’t know anything about showbiz here in New York.” All you had in your mind was doubt.

“I’m not gonna sugarcoat it. People will be jealous. People will talk about you behind your back. Critics will rip you to shreds. But all that matters is your performance. That dumb, bald critic isn’t the one getting that paycheck and that standing ovation. It’s you. You have to give your all every night. But it’s always worth it. I’ll be with you every step of the way for this show. I’ll guide you. I’ll be like the guy in Pretty Woman! Guiding you through life…”

“Oh Ashton, I’m so lucky you’re my friend. I never thought I’d meet anyone here honestly. You really are the Edward Lewis to my Vivian Ward.” He laughs and clinks his glass with yours.

“First rehearsal is gonna be splendid, darling.”

—

The first rehearsal began at 7:30 am sharp. The first priority was choreography of “Summer Nights”. You met the girls playing Frenchy and Rizzo, and they were very welcoming. Now whoever was playing Jan, however, was a bit snarky. She didn’t even give you a simple hello. You decided to think nothing of it and just go on with rehearsal.

The tech crew brought out some makeshift temporary bleachers for the choreography and everyone got to work. The T Birds and Ashton went to the other side of the stage where the women were all to the other side. You held your music in hand and began your first note while also mirroring the choreographers directions. All was going well until you accidentally stepped on Jan’s foot, causing her to glare at you and yell, “Watch it!”.

You were taken aback. Everyone stopped suddenly and the pianist came to an abrupt halt.

“I’m so sorry-“ you started to say, but was interrupted immediately.

“Maybe you should know what you’re doing if you’re going to be the lead, or were you not aware that you should actually have some experience?”

You mumble barely loud enough for anyone to hear, “I won’t do it again…”

Rehearsal continued, and the room was tense for the remainder of the choreography portion.

“Alright everyone take 5!” The director's voice loudly remarked. Before you knew it, Ashton was walking towards you. His hair was a bit of a mess and his sleeves were rolled up.

“So how was your first choreography session, Sandy?” He grinned, taking a long drink from his water bottle.

You weren’t sure if you should tell him you actually were on the brink of tears. It was way too early to already have complaints, but you were sure that that one girl already hated you and you didn’t even know why.

“It was great, amazing.” You forced a smile and he broke out into a grin. You just couldn’t tell him you were already upset.

“I knew you’d be amazing! I told you it wouldn’t be so bad. We’re doing a run through of the song with everyone next. I’ll get to see you rock it.” He smiled and walked back towards the guys. You sighed, walking back to the group of girls. This would be a long 3 months of rehearsal.

—

You opened the door to your studio apartment and collapsed on the bed, burying your face in your pillow. Then the tears came. You couldn’t believe how upset you were. You didn’t think it would bother you as much as it did, but you felt like you already blew the role of your dreams. You decided to call Ashton, hoping he could lift your spirits.

“Hey y/n, what’s up?” He had his usual cheery tone of voice and you already felt better.

“I know I said rehearsal was great, but the girl playing Jan was really terrible and hurt my feelings really bad and maybe she’s right maybe I don’t have what it takes, Ash. What if she’s right?” At that point you were crying even more. You didn’t expect to cry even more, but it was happening.

“Woah woah woah. The real Sandy Olsson would never take anyone else’s shit. Y/n, you’re one of the most talented people I’ve ever met. You’ve forced me to come over now. I’m gonna make you feel better. Leave the door unlocked and just be expecting me.” He hung up before you could even argue. But you were glad you didn’t have a chance to argue.

—

About an hour passed and your door opened. Ashton walked in, closing the door behind him. He had 2 pints of Ben and Jerry’s and two 4 packs of Smirnoff in his arms. He kicked the door closed gently and sat at the foot of your bed.

“There’s my favorite broadway sensation.” You mumble from under your covers, grinning when you lock eyes.

“Here I am!” He smiled, handing you a pint of ice cream and a plastic spoon, “I also have alcohol.”

You smile, opening the ice cream and wrapping your arms around him, “Thank you for coming here… I hope I didn’t interrupt anything.”

“Well I was planning world domination but I’ll get back to that.”

You laugh mad shake your head, “Well… let’s watch Gossip Girl and get drunk then, shall we?”

“We shall.”

—

“She’s just jealous that you’re the lead! Did you see her callback performance for Sandy? It was so half assed! You definitely were the best.” Ashton was on his third drink and there was no hiding it. He was slurring all of his words and laughing at every little thing. You found it adorable.

“You’re just saying that to make me feel better.” A blush crept across your cheeks and you looked down at your cup.

With his hand, he pushed your head up from your chin, “I’m not blind, i know a good actress when I see one, silly. Also, it’s cute when you blush,” He smirked when you blushed even more, “I mean if you want we can practice scenes together outside of rehearsal. We could now! I have my script in my bag…”

Before you could even begin to say no, he was already reading out one of his lines.

“I really like you, Sandy.”

You sigh and grab your script, opening to the right page and sitting across from him on your bed, “Danny, take it easy! What are you trying to do?” You glance down at the book, seeing what his next line is and look back up.

“Can I try something out?”

“Um, that’s not your line Ash-“

His hand comes up to your cheek and before you know it, his lips are on yours. Taken aback, your eyes widen, but then slowly close. You wrap your arms around his neck and twirl the hair at the nape of his neck around your finger and his hands grip your waist. He pulls away and you catch your breath. He smiles at you, “But you enjoyed it, didn’t you?”

“Shut up.”

“That’s a yes I take it.”

You weren’t sure if it was the alcohol talking, but you were sure that you were falling. Hard.

—

“You’re the one that I want, you are the one I want, ooo ooo ooo honey…”

Everyone had gotten down the choreography to this scene, so everyone was just doing a run through without instruction. Before rehearsal even started, you talked to Ashton as usual. He didn’t even mention the night before. Maybe it was the alcohol. Maybe it was for the best. Some friendships need to stay friendships. And that was fine, but a part of you didn’t want that to be true. But what could you do? You never mentioned it again. You decided it was for the best.

-

Countless deli lunches together passed, dozens of coffee runs continued, about 100 more rehearsals occurred, months passed and the day came. Opening night. It was a full house.

You were in your dressing room, finishing up your makeup. A knock took you out of your trance, and you told them to come in.

Ashton came through the door, “Opening night! Are you ready?” He sat on the couch in the dressing room, wearing a tight white shirt and leather jacket, hair slicked back. He looked so good that it physically hurt.

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” You weakly smile, “ya know I heard Rizzo has a thing for you.”

“Too bad she’s not my type… I’m into girls named Sandy.”

“Haha very funny, Ash, I mean like in real life.”

“Yeah so do I. A wise man once said, ‘you’re the one that I want, you are the one I want, ooo ooo ooo honey.” You laugh, and look into his eyes.

He’s not drunk right now. He’s sober. He is in your dressing room, telling you he is into you.

“Break a leg, Sandy.” And then he kisses you. And this time you know it isn’t the alcohol talking.

Summer loving. Happened so fast.

[camillemontespan]

stars [AU. drake walker x MC]

Skinny Cappuccino with an Extra Shot (part one)

Williamsburg (part two)

Here we go, the third and final installment of this AU trilogy!

@jovialyouthmusic @pug-bitch @moonlightgem7 @sirbeepsalot @drakesensworld @katedrakeohd @notoriouscs @ritachacha @iplaydrake @fromthedeskofpaisleybleakmore @be-still-my-aching-heart @dcbbw

******************************************************************************************

Relax. This is just a date. You’ve been on dates before. Granted, never to your date’s work, but hey, first time for everything. She is cool. She’s actually nice, she’s not stuck up, she is gorgeous, why the fuck is she interested in you? Right, breathe. Stop panicking. 

Drake was standing the bottom of her apartment’s stoop, trying to work up the courage to press the buzzer. He wasn’t usually this bad with girls; but something about Camille made him feel nervous, excited, silly. It was a weirdly nice feeling.

Steeling himself, he made his way up the stairs and pressed the buzzer for Apartment 10. The piece of paper beside the number had her last name written in twirly, loopy handwriting. 

The door buzzed him open and he  entered the main foyer. 

He found Apartment 10 and saw that she was standing at the door waiting for him. She was dressed but her hair was wrapped up in a towel. 'I promise I'll be ten minutes,' she told him. She beckoned him inside and led him through to the living room. Drake looked around. Dove grey walls, intricate cornices in the ceiling, wooden floors. It was a classy place. The TV was on, showing a football game - Raiders vs Patriots, Drake could see - and an unopened bottle of beer was placed on the coffee table beside the remote. Camille nodded at the beer and TV. 'Make yourself at home, I'm just going to dry my hair.' Giving him a smile, she padded out of the room and down the hallway.

Drake sat down on the sofa and opened the beer. This was new. Most of the time, his dates would have him standing in the hallway awkwardly. Not Camille. No. She put on the football and had a beer ready.

He looked around the room and began to see little bits of her. The bookcase filled with Austen novels and fashion biographies. The artwork on the walls which looked expensive. The framed photographs on the sideboard which showed her out with friends, on holiday, cuddling an old lady who resembled Camille.

Drake's phone buzzed with a text. Opening it, he saw it was from Leo.

Good luck tonight champ!

Drake grinned despite himself and took a picture of the TV screen and bottle of beer, captioning it : 'She's getting ready, look what she set me up with.' He sent it onto Leo, who texted back instantly.

Dude, marry her or I will.

Drake smirked and put his phone away. He watched the game for a few minutes, looking up when Camille came through.

She was wearing a red silk dress and gold strappy heels. Her hair was tousled around her shoulders and her makeup was smokey. Drake stared at her. 'You look stunning,' he said. Camille blushed and looked at him from under her eyelashes. 'You look pretty handsome yourself.'

Drake shrugged. He had picked out a black suit and tie for the occasion- he never felt comfortable dressed up but as this was a law firms annual party, he figured he had to make an effort. Plus it was Camille.

'Right let's go then!' she said, picking up her clutch bag. Drake followed her and she opened the door, letting him out first. She turned the key in the lock and when she looked up at him to say something, Drake's hand reached up behind her head and he gently pulled her into him. His lips brushed hers softly. He swore Camille sank into the kiss.

When they parted, she was blushing. 'What was that for?'

'I know I'll be wanting to kiss you all night and won't be brave enough to try anything. I was feeling brave then so..'

Camille laughed. 'You don't have to summon courage to kiss me, Drake.'

'Believe me, I do.'

Camille smiled and leaned up to kiss him herself. 'You can kiss me anytime you like, Walker.'

*************************************************************************************

They hailed a taxi to The Empire. They chatted easily on the way and Drake began to feel himself properly relax now.

The Empire was lit up from the outside. Pink and purple floodlights hit the facade. The words Beaumont Bash 2019 were lit uo against the stone and Drake could hear pulsing music coming from inside. Bouncers were at the door and Camille showed them her staff pass, before telling them that Drake was on the guest list. The bouncers let them inside and Drake whistled when he saw the scenes in front of him.

There were waitresses holding out trays of champagne glasses - their skin was spray painted in pink glitter body spray, as if they were aliens. As Drake and Camille went further into the hotel, they saw lights that looked like glowing planets hanging from the ceiling and the walls were lit up by a galaxy floodlight, making it look like they were in another world.

'Why is a law firm pretending to be in space?' Drake asked her. Camille grinned. 'This is our theme of the year. Beaumont LLP: The Firm of the Future.' We want to dominate the sector and be the law firm that everyone in the world wants to work with.'

'That's a big ambition.'

'You haven't met my boss,' Camille said, 'and speaking of, there he is!'

Drake looked over to see a tall, thin man wearing a purple silk suit. He was talking to some guests and was toasting his glass of champagne against theirs. Drake thought he looked familiar.

Beside him was a younger man, lanky, wearing a blue suit that sparkled. He turned and waved at Camille, rushing over.

'Little Blossom! You're here!' he cried, pulling her into a hug. He saw Drake and offered him a giant smile. 'You must be Drake! Hi, I'm Maxwell!' he thrust out his hand eagerly and Drake shook it.

'Nice to meet you, Maxwell. This is a great party.'

'I know right! I planned it myself! Do you get the theme?!'

'Firm of the Future, I see it,' Drake replied.

Maxwell finger gunned him and winked. 'You betcha. Now, Camille, how about we get a bottle of champagne? It is a free bar after all.'

'I don't think bottles are included in that, Max,' Camille said, raising an eyebrow. Maxwell rolled his eyes. 'For the common people maybe. But for me...,' He gave them both a wink and Drake chuckled. Maxwell led them toward the bar but was stopped by the man in the purple silk suit.

'Maxwell,' he said. He saw Camille and kissed her on both cheeks. 'Darling you look fantastic.. And who is this fine piece you've brought with you? A mid year bonus?'

Drake reddened as the man's eyes roamed Drake. Camille cleared her throat. 'This is Drake, my date. Drake, this is Bertrand Beaumont, the managing partner of Beaumont LLP.'

Drake shook Bertrand's hand. 'Have I seen you on the cover of Time Magazine?' he asked.

Bertrand winked at him. 'Yes, my darling, you have indeed. Pray tell, what do you do? Model? Act? I can see you modelling for an outdoor magazine myself, you are very... rugged.'

'Bertrand, are you hitting on my date right in front of me?' Camille asked, her hand on her hip.

Bernard waved his hand. 'Darling, I flirt with everyone's dates!'

Drake shuffled on his feet and felt Camille take his hand, squeezing it gently. 'Well this one is off limits to you!' she replied. Bertrand pretended to be offended but then kissed her cheek. He looked at Drake. 'She's my best Paralegal,' he told Drake seriously. 'She's a diamond. Now, away and help yourselves to the free bar!'

Camille lead Drake away with Maxwell following. 'So, at work, Bertrand is completely different,' Camille whispered.

'In what way?'

'Everything. His clothes, his mannerisms, his attitude. But when we have a Bash, it's like he's been replaced with this glamorous, fun, kinda pervy guy. It's so weird.'

'Maybe he has a twin?'

'Maybe. All I know is he has a collection of kimonos that are worth more than my rent.'

'How do you know that?' Drake whispered. Camille shot him a mischievous smile. 'They held a bash at their townhouse once. Hana and I went sneaking around, came across his dressing room. Oh my god it was a room of wonders!'

Maxwell asked for a bottle of champagne and three glasses. He handed one to Drake. 'So Camille tells me you make her her morning coffee and you also work in a bar. I tried working in a bar once, I was shit at it. I accidentally charged someone for a bottle of wine when they had actually asked for a glass. Oh dear.' He gave Drake a bashful grin and shrugged.

Drake smiled. 'It's alright, pays the bills you know? What do you at Beaumont LLP?'

'He's the social media superstar!' Camille answered for him. Maxwell bowed. 'I am indeed... A superstar.'

Camille chuckled. 'Seriously, he has that engraved in the sign on his office door.'

'Perks of the job, Little Blossom!' Maxwell turned to Drake. 'Basically, I manage our Twitter, Facebook and Instagram. I live feed our seminars, try and make law actually look interesting instead of full of stuffy old men. It was difficult at first but I discovered that if a post a video of a cute dog every so often, people will follow regardless. People love corgis right now I think.. Guys help me find videos of a corgi.'

Maxwell whipped out his phone and the three of them crowded round it, trying to find YouTube videos of corgis. 'This one's wearing socks!' Camille squealed.

'Yeah but this one is wearing a sombrero!' Drake protested. 'It's called Pablo!'

‘Hey guys, what are you up to?’

They looked up and Drake recognised Camille’s friend who ordered matcha tea at the coffee shop. ‘Hana!’ Camille greeted her, giving her a hug. 

‘Ah Mr Barista Guy!’ Hana said, turning to Drake. Drake smiled and offered his hand to shake hers. ‘Drake Walker, nice to meet you, Hana.’

‘You too! Are you enjoying the party?’

‘Yeah, it’s really cool! Different.. I’ve never been to a shindig like this.’ 

‘Ha, get used to it if you’re going to be dating Camille,’ a familiar redhead said, sidling up to the group. Camille blushed. ‘Hey Olivia. Drake, this is our friend, Olivia.’

Olivia looked at Drake, her nose wrinkled. ‘Barista by day, bartender by night? Charming.’

Drake frowned. He was about to reply when he felt Camille take his hand. ‘Liv, don’t be a bitch,’ she told her. Olivia smirked. Camille turned to Drake.

‘Olivia has a bite but she’s a softie when you get to know her, promise.’

Drake nodded but he felt flat. Looking around the room at the lawyers dressed in their suits and the tinkle of laughter and the sound of champagne flutes being toasted, he felt like a fish out of water. What was he even doing here? He didn’t belong here. He was a barista and a bartender. He was on minimum wage. He had never even had a lawyer before. 

‘Excuse me,’ he said quickly and he turned to leave the room. He felt Camille try to pull him back and say, ‘Drake, please..’ but he shrugged her off. He needed air. Walking with purpose, he strode to the foyer and out of the entrance door. 

The warm New York air hit him and he inhaled, filling his lungs with the city. Looking around, he spotted a taxi and hailed it. He knew it was rude to leave Camille. But he didn’t want to feel inferior; as his mom had told him time and time again, nobody can make you feel inferior without your consent. 

He reached the taxi and pulled open the door.

‘Drake!’

He turned to see Camille running after him. She reached him, panting. ‘Drake, please. Don’t go.’

‘I don’t belong in there, Camille,’ he told her. ‘I’m not a lawyer. I’m not successful, I’m not rich, I’m not anything, okay? Why have you not brought a lawyer as your plus one? You’re wasted being my date. I’m just the guy who makes your morning coffee and works in a dive bar at night.’

He turned to get into the taxi but she pulled him around. He sighed, looking at anywhere but her. Camille reached out and pulled his chin towards her so he was staring into her brown eyes.

‘You’re my date because I like you,’ she told him. ‘I think you’re really interesting and fun and clever and sweet and bonus, insanely goodlooking.’ Drake cast his eyes down, embarrassed, and Camille clicked her fingers. ‘Look at me, Walker.’

He looked at her.

‘You are the best guy in that room,’ she said. ‘I know that we’ve only just met but I know that you are worth way more than all of them combined. I’ve got such a good feeling about you, you know?’

Drake blushed. ‘Montespan..’

‘I’m not asking you to come back in there but I do want to continue our date,’ she told him. ‘So, Drake Walker, what do you say?’

Drake looked at her earnest face. ‘I say the night’s still young.’

‘Correct answer. So, your place or mine?’

*******************************************************************************************

They went back to Camille’s. As soon as they were in the door, she kicked off her heels. ‘I’m going to get changed,’ she told him. ‘There’s beer in the fridge, knock yourself out.’

Drake went through to the kitchen to grab a beer. The fridge was littered with post its - doctors appointment reminders, shopping list, to do lists. A polaroid was stuck up with a magnet of Camille and Hana at a party raising their wine glasses in the air. Drake smiled; he felt like being in her apartment was like being allowed inside Camille’s head. All of these little touches about her laid bare to him. 

He placed a beer on the coffee table for Camille and settled down on the sofa. He turned on the TV and saw that The Sixth Sense was on. 

‘Ahhh I see dead people!’ Camille cried, entering the room. She had changed into denim shorts and a New York Giants jersey which was oversized on her, slipping off her shoulder. Drake felt his jeans tighten and hoped he could get rid of the situation before she sat down beside him. 

She brought over a pizza delivery leaflet and sat down next to him, oblivious to the tent situation. 

‘So, large pizza with like, all the meat?’ she suggested. Drake chuckled. ‘Sounds good to me.’ 

Camille phoned the pizza place and then settled down to watch the film. Drake was painfully aware of how close she was to him. He could smell the coconut scent of her hair. He swallowed and kept his eyes fixed on the TV, not absorbing anything that Haley Joel Osment was saying to Bruce Willis.

Camille stretched her long legs out, crossing her feet on the coffee table. Drake looked at her legs out the corner of his eye but then scolded himself. Stop being a perv.

Drake spent the next thirty minutes in silent torture. He really wanted to hold her close, make a move. But he didn’t want to come across like he was taking advantage. 

The door buzzed and Camille jumped up. She came back with the pizza box and she placed it on the table. They both dug in. Drake turned to say something to Camille about how the twist in the film was so obvious, but chuckled when he saw she had pizza sauce on her cheek. 

‘What? What’s so funny?’ she asked, blushing.

‘You got sauce on your face,’ he told her, smiling. She reached to get at it but missed. Drake shook his head and leaned forward to wipe it off. ‘There, all clean now,’ he said quietly.

Camille’s eyes met his. There was a loaded silence. He cleared his throat and looked away.

‘Drake.’

‘Yeah?’

‘You know you can kiss me whenever you want. I told you that earlier.’

Their eyes were steady on each other. Camille raised an eyebrow, daring him. Fuck it.

Drake bolted forward, his hands reaching out to behind her head and their mouths crashed together. Camille let out a gasp of surprise and Drake felt her smile against his lips. His arms went underneath her legs and he picked her up, throwing her back against the sofa. Camille laughed and Drake grinned, pinning her arms above her head, his body lying along hers. 

‘Tell me if this is too much,’ he whispered.

She smirked. ‘I’m a big girl, Drake.’

Drake kissed her jawline, travelling down to her throat. His hands roamed up under her jersey, feeling her bare skin. Camille reached out to pull her sweater off and Drake watched as she cast it aside. Drake undid her bra in one swift motion, throwing it to the floor, and he closed his eyes when he felt her hands unbutton his shirt and skim across his chest. 

Her legs wrapped around his waist. Drake was still on top of her and he breathed in her scent. They kissed deeper, more desperately now. They reached for each other, Camille unbuckling his belt, her hand reaching down to wrap around him. 

Suddenly, in their hastiness, they rolled off the sofa.

‘Ah!’

Camille was lying on top of Drake. They were lying on the floor and they were staring at each other, holding back laughter.

‘Did I mention that I’m really smooth?’ Drake asked. Camille burst out laughing. ‘I think you can make up for it, Walker.’ 

Drake’s hand reached down to cup her ass and Camille ground her hips into his. Their lips caught and Drake’s fingers tangled in her hair. She let out a groan and tugged at his bottom lip with her teeth. Drake unbuttoned her shorts and pulled them down. She cast them aside, her underwear following.

Drake took a moment to take her in. ‘You’re beautiful,’ he whispered.

Camille blushed. ‘No I’m not..’

‘You really are.’ 

Sitting up, Drake pulled her further into him and her hand guided him to her entrance. He looked into her eyes, saw the desire, and gently he pulled her onto his length. Camille let out a sharp gasp. ‘Fuck, Drake, you’re really big..’

Drake kissed her neck, enjoying the feel of her around him. Their hips began to rock together, steady and fluid. ‘Oh god..’ she breathed.

Drake kissed her mouth fervently. His hands roamed her body, feeling her skin. Camille rode him harder, crying out louder as the movements became more rapid. 

Their eyes met. ‘Make up for not being smooth, Drake,’ she said, her breath hitching. Drake’s eyes bore into hers.

‘Challenge accepted.’

*******************************************************************************************

They spent the rest of the night curled up under a blanket, naked, watching the rest of The Sixth Sense. The pizza box sat in between them; Camille was lying against Drake and he had his arms wrapped around her body.  This was nice. This was cosy.

‘I really want to adopt Haley Joel Osment...’ Camille said. ‘He’s just too precious for this world.’

‘But, Camille..’ Drake said, staring at her in mock horror, ‘he sees dead people!’

Camille giggled and snuggled into him. ‘I would protect him at all costs.’

‘I’m sure you would.’

‘Let me guess..’ she said slowly. ‘You would adopt Bruce Willis, wouldn’t you?’

‘Die Hard Bruce Willis, yeah, why not. He can kill all of my enemies.’

Camille laughed and leaned up to kiss him on the cheek.  Drake looked at the clock; it was 1am. ‘So... I should probably head home,’ he said. 

‘Aww but.. we’re having so much fun.’

‘I know. But it’s getting late and you should go to sleep-’

‘Drake, I’m not tired.’

‘No but you will be soon. I should head.’

He stood up. Why was he suddenly being weird? 

Camille frowned. ‘You know, you could stay over.’

‘I don’t want to look like..’

‘Like you’re taking advantage? Drake, you’re like, the most polite guy I know. Trust me, you’re not taking advantage of me.’

He scuffed his foot against the floor. ‘I’m a gentleman.’

‘We’ve already had sex.’

‘A reformed gentleman, then.’

Camille sighed. ‘I told you, I’m a big girl. I’m not expecting a marriage proposal. Maybe just a really nice cappuccino in the morning, okay?’

Drake chuckled. 

‘Drake, stay,’ she said, her face serious. ‘It’s 1am. You can sleep on the sofa if you must but got to say, my bed’s comfier and I’ve just got a new mattress which is like sleeping on a cloud.’

 Drake stared at her. She wasn’t going to give up. ‘Ahh fine, you got me. I’ll stay.’

She grinned at him. ‘Awesome!’

They turned off the TV and lights. Camille guided him to her bedroom. Drake stared at her naked body as she walked down the hall, her hips circling a figure of eight.  

She got under the duvet. Drake followed.

‘Holy shit, this mattress is incredible.’

‘I know right!’ she squealed. 

Drake settled into it and stretched. Camille looked at him mischievously. 

‘Want to test it?’

*******************************************************************************************

As Camille slept, Drake was awake. He lay there looking out of the window, listening to the patter of rain. The moonlight shone in, highlighting Camille’s sleeping figure. She glowed. Drake could hear the sounds of New York, still awake, as always, and he had never felt more content. 

Camille let out a sigh and rolled over into his chest. Drake wrapped his arm around her and listened to her lightly breathing. He wasn’t going to mess this up. This girl, Camille, was perfect. Drake felt like he had to count his lucky stars. He gazed out the window and although he couldn’t see the stars thanks to the city lights, he still thanked the universe, which had seemed to have gifted him this person. Drake closed his eyes and for the first time in a while, he slept peacefully.