#i didn’t find this in her tag but if anyone has better quality photos or the full spread
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keeneyed · 1 year ago
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like just look at this cover!!!
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mrbexwrites · 9 months ago
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OC in 15
Thanks so much for the tag @surroundedbypearls! Logan sounds like a fun chap!
Rules: Share 15 or fewer lines of dialogue from an OC, ideally lines that capture the character/personality/vibe of the OC. Bonus points for just using the dialogue without other details about the scene, but you’re free to include those as well!
Continuing into hell to edit and after I made this post about Nora, I wanted to focus on her some more!
“Holy shit! Bitch! I was beginning to get worried!” A hoarse voice yelled at me down the phone. “I know you said not to panic until a week had passed, but, girl, when I saw you go off with that guy and the state you were in...shit! Are you okay?”
“Where are you? I’m coming to you. This is going to be such a scoop! Jared is going to shit himself when he finds out!”
“A scoop! A first for Nora Ling! I can almost feel the Pulitzer in my hands! How do I look?”
“With me, is Deputy, uh, Deputy Ward of the Sheriff’s Office,” Nora quickly recovered. In her eagerness to land her scoop, she’d not gotten Ted’s name, so had to quickly squint at his name badge. “Deputy, can you confirm the rumours that you’ve found Amy?”
“But when I ran the plates a couple of days later, it wasn’t a cab. The car had been reported as stolen from a local resident in Luna,” Nora came up and slung an arm around my shoulder. “But the plates didn’t match the car listed on the DMV. So, chop shop, right? I went to the police in Albuquerque, but got poo-pooed. They wouldn’t even take a witness statement from me. So, I went to my boss at the paper, and he basically told me to go and take some photos at the dog fair.”
“Fuck!” Nora had finished her call. “Fuck! Fucking Courtnee Fucking St. Claire-James. Fuck. That fuck-face Jared, has taken the story, that I broke, from me, and is sending in Courtnee St.Claire-James to take over. Because she has ‘better screen quality and gravitas’. Fuck!” 
“I can dream. Just a ‘Nora Ling who broke the story’, you know? My scoop! My five minutes of fame, and introduction to investigative journalism. But Jared just erased me with a wave of his hand, and now Courtnee St. Claire-James is getting all the credit. Ugh!” 
“We’ll be there,” Nora had turned her attention back to the conversation. “Courtnee just posted that she can’t get anyone to comment from the Sheriff’s Department. I can’t imagine her face when I waltz in and get a quote from Sheriff Harris himself,” she smiled slyly, and also helped herself to one of my pancakes, having polished off her own. 
Nora watched him leave, and closed her laptop when she saw one of the photojournalist’s staring at her. She gave him the stink eye. “Yeah, that’s right buddy. The scoop was mine!” [...]“It’s a dog eat dog world in journalism. If you think none of them would push me into oncoming traffic for a chance to get inside the Sheriff’s Office, then you’re more naive than I thought.” 
“You know, she’s only the face of the Independent Chronicle’s social media department because her dad owns the paper, and paid for her boob job.”[...]“Of course! I’d kill to have those connections, and I’d rinse the hell out of them. Do you know how far ahead of my career I’d be if my dad owned a newspaper, or news channel? Why? Why did Ju-Long Ling have to be a dentist?!”
“Holy fucking shit!” Nora sounded as if she was screaming. “Oh my god! Oh my god! Oh my god! I have so much to tell you, but first; I need the deets. Tell me everything. Fill me in. I have five million followers who need to know!”
“I’ve...uh...I’ve stolen a copy of the letter. It was just lying out. I took a quick snap when the forensics guy put it down to fill in paperwork. Does that count as interfering with a crime scene?” 
“Yeah, yeah,” Nora waved me away. “I’ve got releases for them. I’m not a monster. I have ethics, y’know.”
(On meeting Avery) “You know who I am!” Nora looked like she might  faint with happiness. “I was at one of your parties that you threw at Samson’s in twenty-eighteen. It was the best night of my life”
“I’m never drinking again,” she croaked. “Why are all the phones ringing at once?”[...]“I don’t understand how they are still upright,” Nora groaned. “Words in my head are too loud. I’m going to be silent forever.” [...]“Some booze,” Nora looked green. “You were behind the bar, pouring cups of tequila into the basin.” 
Passing the tag onto @kaylinalexanderbooks @warriorblood1 @andromedaexists @cowboybrunch @darkangel319 and open invite to anyone who wants to :)
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babyjamiebarnes · 4 years ago
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Build-A-Bear
Part Eleven
Featuring: Bucky x Stark!reader, dad!Tony, Steve, Sam, Peter, OC background characters
Warnings: language, sexual implications and references, blackmail
Summary: Bucky decides it’s time to come clean to Tony, consequences be damned. Steve has his own bombshell, of sorts.
Author’s Note: Hi. I’m a lazy piece of crud. I wanted to post this earlier but I suck. It’s kinda short too, at least compared to previous parts. There will probably only be a couple parts left, maybe 2-3? I’m posting these chapters as I write so tbd in length lol. And as always, feel free to buy me a coffee!
Tags: @amourmarvel @fangirlvoice @kennedywxlsh @devilswaldorf @what-the-hap-is-fuckning @alyispunk @fredweasleysbitchh @wearegroot @sunflowerbebe107 @prestigious-tea @brckenmemories @angelbabymed @charmedbysarge @cruelsummer-s
Series Masterlist
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“Are you fucking insane?”
Everyone moved back to your apartment to avoid freaking poor Matt out any more. And now there was a standoff in your living room.
“It’s the only course of action that makes sense,” Bucky said in his defense.
“Buck, her dad will skin you alive if he sees those pictures,” Sam said. “Even if he’s somehow fine with it, she’ll lose her job!”
“If we don’t do this, that kid downstairs loses his family!” Bucky shouted back.
Sam groaned in exasperation and ran his hands over his face. “There’s gotta be a way to get the money.”
“There’s not,” you said defeatedly. All eyes turn to you. They initially looked to you for guidance, but your reliance on Bucky gave him the wheel on your own personal highway to hell. “Even if we do give this person the money, there’s only one person we can get that kind of cash from. Bucky’s right. We have to tell my dad.”
“[Y/N], maybe we should brainstorm some other options,” Peter nearly whispered, keeping his voice soft in the midst of the chaos. “I don’t want you to lose your job.”
“I’ll quit,” Bucky said suddenly. “I’ll quit being an Avenger and just do, fuck, private security? Or something.”
You could see the stress and fear and frustration written on his face. In a couple steps, you were standing in front of him and were able to cup his scruffy cheeks as you spoke.
“We’ll figure all that out later.” You perked up on your toes and gave him a short kiss. “But right now, we’re on a bit of a time crunch. I’d like to end this sooner rather than later so… let’s tell Tony.”
With Peter willingly sitting in the open trunk area of the Jeep, everyone was able to fit in one car back to the Tower. The tension inside the vehicle could’ve been cut, sliced, and diced with a knife. No one wanted to say anything, but no one really knew what to say anyway.
Steve was still silent. He didn’t say a word when you discussed telling Tony, but you could practically see the gears turning in his head. He had something to say, he just wasn’t saying it.
By the time you got to the Tower, you felt like you were gonna throw up. You held the envelope with the letter and media tight in your grasp, only letting go to open your door. The second your feet touched the garage floor, Bucky was right beside you.
He kept a firm grip on your hand, squeezing a little extra so you knew he was there with you and wasn’t going to let anything bad (worse) happen. Knowing he was willing to risk his entire livelihood for you made you love him even more. But you knew if it came down to it, you’d give up your position with the Avengers. Even with only two years spent at Stark Industries — just under a year spent with the Avengers (and nearly a year with Bucky) — you’d have no problem getting a new job with any other company. Bucky’s skills were put to the best use saving the world.
As the elevator approached the floor with your dad’s office, Sam finally broke the silence.
“Do you want us to be in there with you? I’m thinking it might be better if it’s just you two.”
You turned to see Peter wringing his hands, subconsciously agreeing with Sam — he clearly didn’t want to be in the room when all this went down but was putting on a brave face to be a good support system. Steve still stood silent with his arms crossed over his chest. Whatever was going on in that head was still festering.
“I think you’re right,” you agreed with Sam. “We’ll come find you once he gets the news.”
Your eyes met Bucky’s and even though he was trying to remain confident for you, there was fear behind those baby blues.
“We’ll be okay,” you said just loudly enough for him to hear.
When you reached the floor you’d been dreading, Sam, Steve, and Peter all turned to go to their designated rooms, partially because it had been a while since all of them had been back, partially to stay far away from the impending outburst.
You took a deep breath and started toward Tony’s office, just to be pulled back into Bucky’s arms. He held you tight, nuzzling his face in your hair and just holding you. You gripped the back of his shirt in response and just took a moment to appreciate the hard muscles of his chest and the weight of his arms around you.
“We’re gonna be okay,” you whispered.
Bucky let out a breath and kissed the crown of your head.
“I don’t want to lose you.”
This made you pull back and look up at him.
“Lose me? Bucky, I’m not going to let this affect us. No matter what happens, I’m not going anywhere. I love you too much, Bucky Bear.”
The affectionate nickname made him smile, even if it was just a little quirk of the lips.
“I love you too, Build-A-Bear.”
You let him hold you for a couple more minutes before leading him to your dad’s closed office door. When you slowly pushed the door open, you saw Tony sitting behind his desk with half a dozen holographic screens open in front of him.
“Hey pumpkin, what are you doing here?” he asked, barely taking his eyes off his work for a second.
“Um, I kind of really need to talk to you.” Despite being on close speaking terms with your dad — the kind where you felt comfortable swearing in front of him and joking with him, even sharing some of your secrets — you felt like this was crossing a line.
Of course it was. You were in bed with (his perception of) the enemy.
Tony could tell something was wrong by how timid you sounded. You were always loud and bubbly with him — a quality you definitely got from him. He swiped all of the screens closed and walked around the large desk to stand in front of you. He briefly met Bucky’s eyes as the super soldier stood close behind you.
“What’s going on?”
“You-you should probably sit down for this,” you said shakily. Tony took the seat nearest you instead of walking back behind his desk. “So… you know how I’ve been dating James for, like, 10, 11ish months now?”
“And I still haven’t met him?” Tony said with a quirked brow.
“Yeah.” You forced a chuckle. “Well, when we were going through mail this morning, I… I got this.”
You held up the envelope before sliding out the letter and handing it to your dad. His expression went from curious to furious in seconds as his eyes scanned the entire page.
“They sent pictures. Pictures taken through my apartment windows of me and James. Being… intimate.”
“James who?” your dad asked, still staring at the letter. When you didn’t reply, he looked you in the eye, his expression hard as he demanded, “[Y/N], what is James’s last name?”
You took a short breath, the most your anxiety-gripped lungs could handle, and avoided his gaze as you replied.
“Barnes.”
Tony shot up from his seat, his eyes moving from you to the man behind you. The familiar feeling of a metal hand on your lower back helped ease the anxiety coursing through you at your dad’s reaction. When Tony took a step toward Bucky, you countered with a panicked step between them, looking up at your dad and pleading.
“He didn’t know who I was.”
“Bullshit,” Tony spat. He and Bucky were glaring at each other over your head.
“He didn’t, I swear. He found out the same day everyone else did.”
The grinding of his teeth let you know he was seething. But trying to hold it together for now.
“Let me see the rest,” Tony said calmly, holding his hand out. You reluctantly dropped the photos and DVD into his open palm. Bucky didn’t want to get too affectionate, so he just rested his hand on your hip while Tony flipped through the photos.
Everything was back in order, so he went through the same sequence you did: pap photos, to apartment photos, to sex photos. You could tell when the pictures turned raunchy by the way Tony’s face contorted, tossing the photos down shortly after.
“Friday, play the disc,” he commanded. The video played against the only blank wall in the room, the audio of you and Bucky playing through the speakers.
“Dad, you really don’t need to —” you started, quickly stopped by a sharp glare from your father.
“What are you gonna do to me?”
“I’m gonna put a baby in you. I’m gonna cum inside this tight pussy until you can’t take it anymore.”
“Jesus fucking Christ,” Tony nearly growled. “Friday, shut it off.”
“I tried to tell you,” you murmured under breath, though not loud enough for him to hear. Bucky did hear it though, evident by the way he squeezed your hip.
Tony leaned forward against his desk, hanging his head in clear frustration. You knew better than to speak up while he contained his emotions, so you stood in silence with Bucky as your dad sighed heavily and spoke to himself under his breath.
“You just have something against me, don’t you?” Tony said accusingly to Bucky.
“Don’t do that,” you scoffed. “You don’t get to do that. If you’re going to get mad at anyone, it needs to be me.” You never got snappy with your dad, but everything weighing on your shoulders frayed your nerves and his attitude didn’t do anything to fix it. “I’m the one who knew full well what we were doing. I’m the one who had all the details. I’m the one who chose to risk everything for this from the start. So if you’re really that mad, take it out on me. Otherwise, help us. We’ll get to the semantics and firing and all that bullshit later. Right now, there are literal lives on the line.”
Tony was still fuming until he heard the last line.
“What do you means ‘lives on the line’?”
Bringing Steve, Sam, and Peter in helped all of you explain what happened, from the note you received to the first viewing of the photos and video to the confrontation with Matt, but not without Tony grilling all of them about when and how they found out about you and Bucky. Peter looked nervous about keeping a secret from his boss, but you knew your dad wouldn’t do anything too bad to the kid. Maybe kick him off a couple missions, but nothing noteworthy. Steve and Sam looked like they really couldn’t care less, especially since Sam was the last to know.
Despite still wanting to rip Bucky’s arm off and beat him with it, Tony remained civil for your sake, at least until all of this was sorted.
The first step was getting Peter, Happy, and Pepper to try to track down where the letters came from, which likely meant scanning for fingerprints (despite how many hands held it that day alone). The second step was for you, Bucky, Tony, Sam, and Steve to scope out your building and any neighboring buildings someone may have been scoping your apartment from. There was no one someone could’ve been dangling outside your windows without you noticing. The third step was meeting with your doorman again to try to piece together some answers.
You all agreed to keep local law enforcement out of it so the culprit didn’t catch on as quickly. Having a few Avengers and Tony Stark show up at Tony’s daughter’s apartment wasn’t out of the ordinary so you could still stay under wraps. There was no reason to draw attention to your place and possibly trigger the mystery person into accelerating their plans.
With your dad’s confidence in the plan, you gradually grew more and more optimistic about the plan. If all else failed, Tony would get the two million and continue tracking the fucker down. It wouldn’t be hard to sneak a tracker into the cash and watch where it goes once it’s out of your hands. That’s when you could bring in local law enforcement.
It felt like things were finally going your way.
As you and your crew headed downstairs to drive back to your place, Steve grabbed your arm and tugged you to the side.
“Can I talk to you for a second?” he asked quietly.
You nodded and followed him down the hall; Bucky was busy talking to Sam and Tony was on the phone briefing Rhodey so he could stand guard outside your doorman’s place for a while, giving you the perfect opportunity to step away for a minute. When Steve pulled you into a side room, you finally spoke up.
“What’s up? Is everything okay?”
Steve crossed his arms and huffed. That signature frown of his softened when he met your concerned gaze.
“I know we’re not necessarily close, but I consider you a friend. You know that, right?”
“I consider you a friend too,” you said with a nod.
“What I’m about to say... I need you to keep it between us. Don’t tell Bucky or Sam or Peter or your dad. Just between us, at least for now. Okay?”
“O-okay...? You’re making me nervous, Steve,” you admitted. “What’s going on?”
“I think I know who’s blackmailing you.”
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captainkurosolaire · 3 years ago
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I challenge you to pick five Tumblrs in your social circle and tell them something you admire about their blog!
Only 5? I could probably do 500. However, that's determined by what's considered my social circle. I'm often in my head being incredibly social continuously is really a challenge of mine. I'm always actively marching to something, my flame of passion when I have it, I can do some crazy stuff but it diminishes relatively quickly, so I try to cling. But I'll up your thing and list 25 of my fave people. Ask me this same thing in a Month, I'll keep doing 25, until I do all the people. How about that? (If anyone wants to be taken off mention let me know.)
@eligos-venator
- Has one of the most intelligent and sophisticated minds, I've had the pleasure to know. Literally admire all his aesthetics, work, head-cannons, ideas. It's only a benefit that the dude shares some OC characteristics to my own (Winning features). I really enjoyed the short-thread we did. It was incomplete, mainly because of my faults. I want to actually be better to give him a proper delivery and RP worth his time, but he's incredibly worth the investment of eyes.
@mischiefandmystics
- If there was a Mount Rushmoore of writers who kept me in this endeavor, encouraged me. Sun'ra is one of them. His characterization skills, writing, the delivery and how believable his character is, they're masterful acts.
@mishivymendi
- I wouldn't be nearly tamed or as creatively freed if it wasn't for this gem. She broke my shell, I really didn't at a time ever see myself being anything really beyond a smut writer, but Mishi not only saw potential in me, but brought it out. Her stories and world's she brings to life are so majestically colorful.
@asymphonyofash
- My go-to. He's another pillar individual who saw things in me past just the obvious perception, (Probably second longest XIV RPer I know.) Taught me a lot of the lore, I shot him up and he's sort of become my stapled rock. He's right aside Sun'ra met them about the same, both took me under their wing's as I quietly observed and absorbed.
@lavender-hemlock
- We're always up and front with each other, never feeling like I couldn't say anything around, extremely rare to share that these days. Her gif's are legendary, something on my own terms I want to soar in quality. The writing she does is astounding. Character has so many mysterious pages that are quite addictive to want to explore and learn them. (Encore 20 below-cut)
@under-the-blood-moonlight - Her sweetness and artwork and overall is just a friendly presence to be around. I cherish them so much. One I can jive with more darker undertones with. She's one the most hardworking and ambitiously creative people. I'd mail them infinite hugs if could. Thanks for being you! @roxinova - I owe a lot of credit to her. She's constantly OOC and everything was nudging me too be more inclusive to things and involved heavenly. It's rare for me. I'm really horrible about that my autism sets me back socially, I constantly will be drowned by the next day and be reverted back to better off alone, that's my major crux and weakness. But her thoughtfulness, these things, aren't ever foreign to me, I do pay attention probably better than any would ever give me credit. She's a beacon model to have as a friend. @corpse-dancer - Haven't ran into many words with them, but her character, screenshot game, expressiveness, they're all a marvel to constantly see, alongside her attitude and bringing life character. I do think if I were better, we would click quite splendidly. They've recently reminded and motivated me to pick-up my daily-practice, or try too. Keep being a rockstar. @fair-fae - Few who wouldn't know who she is in this community. She's been in my opinion a huge core. I'm certain she's inspired many who weren't even RPers too try it by seeing her at the Quicksands or elsewhere, a tyme ago. Making no exception, I was even one of those. I used to be in QS every-single day and was often doing my shameless stuff. Though her presence first did show me there's a lot more. I admire her in all fields. Also appreciate her adopting me to the FC and her always thinking of others and giving events, or her aesthetics and portrayal, its the epitome of swan elegance. @thorcat - One of my most treasured friends. Been RPing with them for a longtime. There's never anything complicated between us or a rift of drama, it's just let's go and have fun. We really mesh well, I've welcomed nearly ever character and got the privilege to RP with nearly all them. They always open up envelope and help me, settle on back and just laugh. Whether used to be waking up to their characters humping my afk one or use randomly having a hardcore banter between Ufah and Captain and capturing them as a voidal pet. Memories with them isn't something I'd ever want to lose. I love ya! Never stop enjoying life for anything. @lukawarrioroflight - I get in the gutter find myself lacking motivation or writing, discouraged even... But I never have felt, I could ever do any wrong with this person, they bring the light out of me. So no matter what, how many hospital-beds I yearly visit, it's because of this rare nature, that I come back, even if they're the only one's ever to read my stuff. I would do it for them alone. @scholarlybreadbun - I've only been back recently and they've so much warmth. Their presence is the sun of inviting. The couple and posing all the shipping that stuff makes me even melt. I'm not particularly talented in regards to posing couples, but I took notice of them along time ago and set on quietly improving. Really like them for them, wouldn't ever want them to change that. Ideally look forward to be in their orbit longer so I can bask in them. @seascrapes - Been mutual with them for a while. Their aesthetics and character is all S+ level. I appreciate throwing back tagged prompts with them, one of many people I really think would be enjoyable to collab with any other seafarers. The artwork and pieces of Tal Brook, are breathtaking as ever exceptionally too, not to mention. Love your stuff matey, you're a king. @mai-takeda - Is a myth. Her absolutely sheer friendliness and her attitude, are so positive influencing, I was so thrilled to be welcomed with her and boosted by them early on. I couldn't see myself, wanting to exist where they didn't have happiness like the same she always delivers by just doing so many soft-things. Not to mention her writing... She's a whole world to throw yourself gazes
under. @zhauric - It doesn't go far either without the same breath of Mai, I could say about Zhauric. He's someone worthy to look-up and also recognize they're passionate and inviting, hoisting up literally everything. Could easily find any of their characters comrades with my own, or jiving alongside. Not to mention last XIVWrite, they slaughtered it. So enjoyable to read them all. I like how organized their blog is too, motivated me recently to redux my entire thing. @cadrenebula - They have so many diverse characters and their entire roster is vibrant and is imbued with a massive flux of life. They are able to encapsulate so many character's voices and portray them so effectively too, I really admire that greatly. They've made me think bigger and try myself recently at actually undertaking a huge roster of characters too. I've taken many breaks, but I always am so graciously returned often with them close-by and that's so incredibly sacred. I've seen a lot of people get discouraged or quit, leave, departure, etc. But they always seem to have a bigger house then they had last I took a break and I enjoy peaking in. @silvernsteel - Her artist and gif-work are awe-aspiring, there's little unrecognizable by her photo-sets and edits. They helped me even tip-toe into uncharted with giving me the recipes to try incorporating gifs into my arsenal. Plus so delightfully pleasant to actually talk with and just chill. I want nothing less in life, than the beauty they give, to be returned to them for eternity in all their glorious air. If ever needed anything of me, they've got me. @spotofmummery - We talk about passion or friendliness or overall a person to even remotely try to be, I got to include them. Their web-series and writing, screen-work, everything they do is fantastic. And that's furthered back nearly any I've met showcase or immortalize how just genuine of stellar person they are. I wish them always the energy to create and sparks. @snow-covered-moon - They've never been anything less but absolutely a diamond to know. I enjoy their character, their almost always abundant of energy that's very rub inducing. Their WoL character stories, writing, screen-shots, everyday they open up a new pandora box of joy, there's no mistaken love behind their character and that's infectiously easy to also enjoy something when the author does too. Always healthy to be around, I never feel short of vitality when they're close-by. @letheofthelost - Always cheerful or least encapsulates with me, they're a carnival ride. Just pure epic story-telling and engaging equally as passionate, constantly writing characters, not looking for anything outside of RP or anything really just being their selves, they fade all others. I love their presence, them as a person. Enjoy any character they'll ever come and throw under me, or a change of pace. Always feels easily understandable between one another. @crow-iv - Together we're an unfiltered, unstoppable wake of pure passionate writers and art. But I would say they're far ahead of me, in every regard. Already able to portray multiple characters in a scene and do such in-depth thinking, alongside even sketch or draw right afterwards or a scene. They're so talented, huge reason I set-out on giving them a Crew of cast and actual stories to-tell when I'm actually caught up and if they interested and we both have the room, I really think if further myself, I can be better and supply more for them to draw and I want to see them soar. I want to give them all my improvements and effectiveness. @trishelle - They've such a reinforcing personality and aura around them that easily bolsters anything that dares thinking they're about to be depleted so energizing. Aesthetics, characters, all them are so lively that further compliment their own mun's great welcoming presence. Worth hundreds of smiles and stars, keep high. Wish I had more time to dedicate to learning you! But I do notice and appreciate you. @fracturedfantasia - One of my people, I like to retreat and just talk my full
head-cannons with or learn, share insightful and inquisitive thoughts about philosophies and multi-culture things. Or plotting and in-general, they're a well of information and brimming ideas, they are every making of what makes a quality friend. When you can generally be open-about-all that's a real one right there. Their characters and tarot readings, I always would implore if they're offering. Thanks for giving me any-time. You're truly a treasure. @violet-warder - Never have even came to words with them yet unfortunately but didn't mean as a mutual, I haven't admired all their screenies, writing, or the aesthetics they bring of their character. Glamours is real end-game, I like all what you've done and put together. I care strictly about what represent and give, I don't want to see them ever think anyone want's them gone, they are abundantly so talented and possess things only they can deliver. I think recently came back too, and I'm glad to share, hopefully, overtime I can build you better up. Or eventually even talk, but I'm certain you are a busy-body person too, so we're relatable. @layla-grey - I have a lot of underline issues that set me back as a flawed person, but I've never not been anything but someone who's open, it's why I always do include my f-list in anything or etc. I'm not here to present this facade, and really don't care to be an image crafted by another. No one as of recently or now, am I close with as an RP partner or friend with then this stunning masterpiece. I never let-up on story-telling or anything so I can eventually use my Crew or other Characters, to give them anytime a master entertaining day, they push me to not be short-changed. IC and OOC I would devote my full attention too cause they've never shed from me. Didn't ever matter how much silence or anything, they're always around. And don't expect anything out of me or pressure. Just accept me and I equally share that sentiment, I want you to have everything in this world has to offer. ----- This is just a fraction of people, I've paid attention, noticed or know. I've been around in this Community for many years. There's a lot of things I could say about it, more probably then anyone else. But what matters to me, is recognizing the people who are here, that work hard, build others up, support, constantly are a beam. I don't need to interact with everyone, to know when someone is generally out for good. Or they're out for bad I've learned inquisitiveness longtime ago, I had to survive and remain afloat. I just go out and be me, and along the way, I get to find people like these, who help bring out the best me. I am nothing without these people, creators, writers, artist. I'm a terrible friend, horrible person, I don't have the energy to interact NEARLY with as much as I'd like with you all, If I could clone myself, or if things were different, I would drop it all to be in your orbits more if could. But, do know I appreciate you. And even if you ever do depart from this whole community or anything, know that anything you share, or give, that stuff does matter, somewhere, someone was aspired, if nothing else, by me. ONLY you can give the worlds you see and I am thankful. Do love yourself.
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confusedhost-archive · 4 years ago
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She-Ra tumblr au
I made this with @maycombhoney​ at some point and was thinking about it earlier today.
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Adora: Has a popular sideblog named She-Ra about her boxing and fighting abilities but very few people follow her main account. Her sideblog is simple, with a lot of self defense tips and stuff, and sometimes people see reblogs of stuff that are supposed to go to her main account show up. They’re pretty boring, so they usually don’t check out the main account
Glimmer: Lots of sparkly moodboards and stuff with a really pretty aesthetic, and that’s all you see when you follow, but once you’re following, your dash starts having a bunch of vent posts about her mom and there’s a lot of discourse. Glimmer gets mad at posts easily. There’s also a lot of anon hate to her. It’s kinda depressing. If she ever posts art, she often has to take it down because no matter how often she says not to, people repost it, and she can’t let her mom connect the dots. 
Bow: He talks a lot about bows. Shows off a lot of his arrow creations and how-to's on making them at home. They’re too complicated to actually work though. Most of his followers find him through Adora’s side blog She-Ra, where he’s often tagged. It’s usually because she posts selfies of their adventures and he’s in them. Glimmer is too, but she’s well known on her own. 
Double Trouble: Their username is from some small fandom no one has ever heard of, their profile pic is from some abandoned cartoon from a year ago, their header is a gif scene from at least three different shows that were shot in the same place, and their line underneath is a quote from an old musical from the 90′s. The blog is about none of those and has a bunch of posts from a show no one can find. They often get asks about what show it is, to which they give a name, and when they’re asked for a link, it never seems to work. People have given up. At some point, someone noticed that you can actually figure out what’s going on in the show if you look at the gif sets and put them together in order of episode (which is labeled at the bottom). See the thing is, Double Trouble is using the mystery and confusion of this blog to advertise the show they wrote, directed and acted out. No one knows how it’s possible, but the people who know what happened are both under oath to not tell anyone and also extremely confused as to how Double Trouble managed it. Including me. I don’t know how it was managed, but I do have a theory that I’m about to send to @sheblah​. This does mean that she’s required to post my thing the moment she sees it.  Edit: She didn’t so I have to take matters into my own hands. Here’s the post I made with it
Catra: Catra’s posts have been a lot of discourse posts, with her being wrong. You can see in the tags that she knows exactly what she’s doing and that she’s making the wrong posts to be a jerk. She and Adora used to be mutuals (no one knows how, there’s no way their blogs should have ever crossed) but Adora saw one of her discourse posts and blocked her for around a month. After that, Catra stopped trying to reconnect. Now! Catra is less of a jerk on her tumblr and posts a bunch of cute photos of her therapy animal, Melog (no one knows what species Melog is but whatever-) and reblogs a lot of stuff about therapy and anger management. One day she put up a post about how she was getting therapy, and people spammed her with congratulations. She told them that she was crying and thanked them all deeply. Sometimes people still bring up how horrible she was and she has to put out a post saying how she recognizes this and she apologizes for everything she did. She nearly never answers the hate asks. She’s getting better. 
Perfuma: She has a cottagecore aesthetic account, it’s really pretty. She once made a cactus hating post and it blew up. She gets anons making fun of her for it to this day. Very annoying. Most people follow her for the discourse she participates in. It can be quiet for weeks, months even, and then she’ll find some idiot saying something dumb and will fight for, days sometimes, to set them right. It used to be Catra that she would fight with a lot. They ended up becoming enemy mutuals, following each other in order to mess up the other’s discourse post. This also meant that Perfuma was the first to see and cause change in Catra’s way of thinking and actions. Perfuma always reminds herself of the fact that she helped someone change for the better once. She’s proud.
Frosta: Is not legally allowed to be on tumblr. It’s a problem. But at the same time she just? Doesn’t seem to follow anyone at all? Sometimes people will send asks about a post that went viral, and she never seems to know anything about it. She hasn’t been affected by tumblr at all, and seems to post something, answer questions, and then log off to make her next thing. It’s... kind of strange, actually. Everyone knows she’s underage, but has no proof, so they can’t tell her to get off tumblr or anything. And if anyone asks how old she is, she gives a random number (A few favorites are “69,” “420,” “I stopped counting after the first hundred years,” “It’s a bit of a pardox actually, because in total I’m around 80, but I’ll be born in three years so... I’m -3 apparently,” “Old enough to beat you in a drinking contest,” “I’m a god, and have no beginning nor end,” and the best of them all, a video of someone being thrown into the air by a pillar of ice with the caption, “Begone thot.”) Frosta picks and chooses her battles when it comes to answering asks. No hate is ever seen on her blog and no one is sure whether it’s because she never gets it, or because she never answers it. She doesn’t get it. 
Entrapta: A lot of cool videos and vlogs and experiments. After about three months of being on tumblr, someone said they had an experiment she might like, and asked if they could send an ask about it and have her try it out. After that, she made it her pinned post to say, “Taking experiment requests! Have something you want me to try out?” She’s always tinkering now, and she loves it! Someone once asked her to explain one of her videos more simply, and she did! But it was too simple, and the person who asked thought she was making fun of them. A helpful follower of Entrapta’s made a better explanation in a reblog and was seen as better, so Entrapta now lets her followers explain how they see is best! She’ll reblog it onto the main account so everyone can see. If they need help, she can always take back the reigns! 
Mermista: No one is quite sure what her blog is about. There’s a lot of posts about this really obscure murder mystery book series. The ones made by the blog itself are videos of arson and mild theft. The videos are horrible quality, and no one knows what’s going on until at the very end of this three minute long vid, the camera stills, zooms in, and shows a boat on fire. It’s not on the news. Sometimes you’ll see a reblogged post that seems eerily relevant to the posts before and after. The mood the entire way through is basically just this meme
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She once made a uquiz that told you what crime you committed. It is... scarily accurate. The questions had nothing to do with the answer at all. You are horrified. There was once an audio that was basically just running for three minutes with sirens in the background (the post has gone viral and people are beginning to wonder if the sirens are actually mermaid type sirens. It’s becoming more and more likely every time it’s addressed). The audio was a voice reveal. It was one word, and it just made everyone who heard it pause for a moment and sit in complete confusion and mild fear before scrolling further, because they live in the lie that perhaps if they go further, they’ll understand what’s going on. It was just, “Fire,” in the most astonished voice, and then the crackling of a flame. The blog never seems to end. After hours of scrolling, you finally reach the end, and there is and never has been context for a single thing the blog has done. You are slowly filled with dread and anticipation for the next post as you hit the follow button.  
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Aces in Spaces Chapter 11
Monday again! 
Erica has come over to Roman’s to get ready for dinner, he’s fawning over her, dinner is a little ridiculous, Butcher is a hero, and Roman gets to be a sap again (but more because it’s just been their 7th month anniversary and man can’t help himself)
Tags: @sunshinepascal​ @rentskenobi​ @princessxkenobi​ @agent-450​ @maybege​ @obaby-wan​
Reference photo’s are below again (apologies for terrible quality Obi-Wan (my laptop) was being stinky today), enjoy guys :)
Masterlist
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(this is literally the only picture I could find of Ewan in purple so Just imagine he has a black button down instead of the striped shirt)
Roman pulled Erica close before lifting her slightly to sit on the counter, her floor length long sleeve wrap dress is a deep velvet purple, the neckline shy of plunging and the wrap of the skirt giving her a knee-high slit. He is dressed to match her, purple suit accented by the black button up that hides behind his blazer, black sunglasses accompanying the grey pocket scarf that ties in with the sandals he’s carrying for her. Flat footed she stood about an inch taller than he, but he always relished the height difference (as was evidenced by the four-inch heels he was now buckling onto her feet). As he fastened them Erica smiled softly and began brushing her fingers through his auburn hair, he was always tender with her and she couldn’t begin to thank him enough. As if he knew her thoughts, he spoke softly into the room.
“I was thinking we could finish painting the purple and grey in the studio this week. Like your flag.” It was his six-month anniversary present to her, he knows she loves training with her weapons of choice still (even if she has her own guard team now) and he wanted her to have her own space. If that keeps her out of the community training area, that’s just an extra bonus.
The soft smile on her face grows fond, “does the great Roman Stanton have time to watch paint dry?” it’s said almost teasingly.
“With the love of his life?” His eyes meet hers as the endearment passes his lips “there’s nothing I’d rather do.” It is said so matter-of-factly that a full smile breaks across her face.
“People might talk, finding out this isn’t for sex”
“You know,” he begins and his face is full of an exasperation that shows just how many times he’s had the conversation, as his hands find her waist and he stands between her legs, “You can love someone, without having sex.”
She laughs a little at this, albeit softly, and cradles his face in her hands. “My Roman” she brings their foreheads together and for a moment they breathe one another in, basking in the stillness. It’s soft, undeniably so, only interrupted by the furrowing of Roman’s brow.
“Did someone say something?” He pulls back before continuing, hands finding her shoulders as hers slip to his chest. “It’s been a moment since I told the last batch you were asexual; do you want me to mention it?” Despite the calmness his tone brings her, Erica knows ‘mentioning it’ will involve more than just talking (and it certainly won’t be done in passing, her mind briefly pulls up the memory of the time Roman made a 47 page slideshow for Butch about what being Ace meant, how dragons were the mascot, and how that pertained to him. As the main bodyguard for them both Butch had appreciated the education, contrary to what his immense size and intimidating presence suggested he was truly kind). Her smile broadens again, “No, I’m just teasing you, I’d love to finish the studio”.
Romans face splits with a grin that Erica is convinced rivals sunshine with its warmth and brings his hand up to suspend itself by the side of her face. She’s always loved this about him; he never falters at asking before he touches her, some days she doesn’t need him to ask, but knowing he always will, heals her on the days when she does. She leans into him then, closing her eyes and relishing the contact.
“May I please kiss you?”
Its spoken so softly Erica isn’t even sure she heard it, but she opens her eyes to find his and the pleading of his own gives him away. “softly” she conditions in a whisper. He gives her the briefest of nods before leaning in, giving her the time to change her mind if she desires and then she closes the space, pressing her lips to his lightly and gripping at the lapels of his suit jacket. She doesn’t deepen it, and he follows her lead, but she still puts love into the kiss, gently tugging him closer. He pulls away first, thumb stroking her cheekbone from its place on her face.  “Well my Evenstar, shall we go?” She buries her face in his coat at the reference to her favorite fantasy world, “Yes Mr. Stanton,” she drags her eyes up to him with another soft smile “we shall”. His hand is extended to help her down (though it isn’t far at all with the addition of the heels) and the smile he directs up at her resembles the cat who got the canary, as he tucks the same hand around his arm. “The world awaits”.
*Dinner that evening*
The dinner goes well, Erica and Roman separating (he’d sent Butch with her for his own peace of mind) as the night went on, it turned out the man he’d been meeting with had several companions and Erica was willing to make a few friends if the situation lent itself to such a thing. She’d come back after a while, (maybe a little less care-free than before Roman thought but he hadn’t been able to ask at the time) saying that Butch had had something to take care of and would be re-joining them both soon.
It isn’t until Butcher is walking with them to the car, Erica on his right arm and Roman on hers, that anyone mentions the situation, Butcher commenting softly
“She kept asking me who I’d like to,” he pauses and Erica trains her gaze on his face “do, things, with” he finishes lamely; gaze resolutely focused ahead of him, only breaking to scan for threats. Erica tilts her head in silent question. “Adult things.” He tacks on and confusion flits across her face before he adds “not taxes, the other stuff”. Her posture straightens before she breathes a noncommittal “ah”.
Roman tilts his head and looks to her in question.
“One of the girls was, very thrilled, with Butch, she couldn’t have held a candle to Hannah. I didn’t much care for any of them so I rejoined you.” She says by way of explanation.
Butcher scoffs, “No one could hold a candle to my Hannah. All due respect Ms. Erica” He says it with a smile sent her way and his hand coming to rest over hers where it rests on his arm.
Butcher plunges ahead as they exit the venue, “She took a real shine to you though, I kept trying to explain you wouldn’t be into it, but she wasn’t really getting the hint. I told her you were ace, she said that meant you hadn’t been with the right people. That she could fix it for you”. For a brief moment Erica almost wants to turn back to ensure Butcher hasn’t left the poor thing tied up somewhere as she is absolutely certain Romans slideshow did cover this response (if she didn’t remember after his insistence that she proofread it for him the tension she can feel from him is indication enough). But once again Butcher carries on without thought and finishes with a flourish as he opens the car door.
“She got a real nice cab home, courtesy of the local police department.”
Erica stops halfway in the car in shock, still holding roman’s forearm in preparation to slide in “Butcher, you had her arrested?”
He shrugs, “Well, I couldn’t take her into the men’s room for a talk myself could I?” he says it as if it’s the most natural thing in the world, as if arguing in her defense during dinner hadn’t been kind enough, as if leaving the woman any chance to say such things to her face would have been absurd. She hugs him then, throws both arms around his neck and pulls him down despite her own impressive height.
“Thank you.”
It’s quiet, barely a whisper, and yet she hopes he knows it means the world to her. As she pulls away, she tells him so, and slides into the car before the emotion can make itself known. Out of the corner of her eye she sees Roman shake Butcher’s hand and she hopes to God it’s over a raise (it’s not as if she wants to buy respect but she’s certain whatever they pay him isn’t enough with the defense he just gave for her). Roman slides in after and Butcher closes the door before moving to sit with the driver, she almost moves to ask Roman to have Butcher keep them company but pauses when she meets his eyes, instantly seeing somethings on his mind. Her eyes soften, “Don’t be upset for me, he handled it better than I could have ever dreamed.”
Roman sighs, “You know me so well love.”
“I do.” It’s punctuated by her bringing their foreheads together, placing a quick peck on his lips before leaning back again. He chuckles, rubbing his thumb along the side of her face gently, reaching toward the dangling earrings she’s wearing before brushing his fingers along the length of her earlobe, down to the cartilage to cradle her bling.
“These are lovely.” His eyes find hers with a knowing smile, they had been her 7th month anniversary present and the reason she’d gotten ready at the pent-house, he’s pretty sure he’d be a failure if he didn’t mention them. “They pale in comparison to the woman wearing them, but they are beautiful.”
She blushes then, looking down before tracing her fingers up the line of his lapel, up his throat lightly before tapping the end of his nose with her finger. Eyes following the trail her fingers blaze, they finally meet his.
“The man who bought them had great taste.” She declares and Roman smiles wider,
“It would seem his taste in lovers is even better.”
Now she’s looking down and laughing, crinkling her nose because she’s trying to stifle the sound, its his favorite expression out of all the ones he’s seen her make so far. She doesn’t do it as often as she laughs, only when she’s found something exceptionally funny, or when she’s being tickled, it only happens when she’s become so full of joy that she forgets to school her expression into something conventionally ‘pretty’
As she looks up she says, still giggling, “You’ve already won me Roman, you don’t have to woo me too.”
He makes a conscious effort to look scandalized.
“My dear, I would simply waste away were I forced to forgo my endeavor to love you better than Shakespeare could write or Da Vinci could paint. I must be nothing less than a master at my craft lest I fall into the pit of despair that is the thought of you needing another. I must never lax, disregarding the passing of time. For as long as you’ll have me, I’ll love you.” The culmination of his declaration consists of him bringing her hand to his lips, holding eye contact as he presses his lips to the back of it softly. He had begun in grandiose, but he’d barely spoken a few words before becoming fully aware of his own sincerity and embracing it wholeheartedly. She’s smiling now, eyes turned soft and accepting of his affection.
“Then I’ll consent to be loved.”
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starryknight09 · 5 years ago
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Unforeseen dangers ch. 4
Summary:  As Peter recovers from his capture by Ross, a photo of him with Tony and the Avengers leaks and is splashed all across the media. Luckily, no one can figure out who he is and everyone thinks the buzz will die down. However, the public’s interest has been ignited. While Tony worries it’s only a matter of time before Peter’s identity is exposed, Peter isn’t as concerned. Besides, what’s the worst that could happen anyway?
Read on AO3.
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A knock sounded on Peter’s bedroom door just as he finished the last equation of the problem set in front of him.
“Kid, can I come in?” Tony’s voice came from the other side of the door.
“Sure.” He answered.
His dad walked in, a tense expression on his face.  He wondered if it was from the same thing that’d put a similar look on Pepper’s face.
“Doing your math homework?” Tony asked when he got close enough to see the open textbook and the sheet of paper with the completed problem set to the side of it.
Peter nodded.  “I just finished it.”
Tony ruffled his hair.  “Want me to check your answers?”
“No I got it.” Peter said, trying to fix his mussed up curls.
His dad watched him fondly for a moment, amusement warring with worry on his face.
Peter frowned.  “Is everything ok?”
“Everything’s fine,” Tony answered quickly, “but there’s something I need to talk to you about.”
Peter’s heart leaped to his throat.  Had Tony figured out Peter’s plan to change his name?  Was he unhappy about it?  But how had he found out?  Pepper wouldn’t have told.  Had someone else?  Or was it just his dad’s uncanny ability to somehow know everything that happened in his Tower?  Maybe FRIDAY had squealed?
“Um what-what’s up?” He asked, trying not to sound as nervous as he felt.
His dad sighed, sliding his homework off to the side so there was a clear spot on his desk where he could sit down.
“Watch any TV recently?” Tony asked.
Peter blinked.  That was not at all what he’d been expecting.
“Um I watched a few episodes of Love it or List it last night.”
“I thought I told you that show would rot your brain.”
“I like it.”
Tony shook his head with a sigh, but Peter could tell he didn’t actually care.
“What about today?  Did you watch anything today?”
“No.  Why?  Did something happen?”  Had some sort of world catastrophe occurred that he was unaware of?
“Yes…and no.” Tony answered.
“Wow that’s cryptic.” Peter joked, trying to lighten the solemn mood that’d fallen over his room.  “Are you actually going to tell me or am I supposed to guess?”
Tony took a deep breath as if to bolster himself before he answered, “Someone leaked a photo.”
“Ok…” That answer was just as vague.
“A photo of us.”
Peter’s mouth fell open as he tried to absorb the words and what they meant.  “What?  But who would—?  When did—?”  He could only get out clipped, incomplete fragments, but his dad seemed to understand all the same.  
“Some government aide leaked the photo of us together on the couch after the Accords signing.  The press is having a heyday with it.” Tony answered.
Peter winced.  Oh.  That was bad.
Tony continued, “It’s playing on all the major network stations.  Everyone wants to know who you are and what your connection is to me.”
Peter frowned, staring blankly at his math homework for a moment as he tried to process the news.
“What-what does this mean?” He asked, looking up to meet Tony’s worried eyes.
Tony licked his lips and answered slowly, “It means…we’re going to have to be a lot more careful in the future to not be seen together.”
“But why?  If they already know who I am?” Peter didn’t really understand.  Why did they need to be careful if the cat was already out of the bag?  
“No.  They don’t know.” His dad shook his head.  “The photo isn’t very good quality.  I can barely tell it’s you.  They just know I was sitting with some kid.”
Peter scrunched his nose, not really loving that description.  “So what are we going to do about it?”
“Nothing.  We’re going to do nothing and let it run its course and eventually it’ll die down.  We’re not telling anyone who you are or what your relationship with me is.  But like I said, we’re going to have to be careful.  We can’t go out in public together for the time being.  One good photo and they might be able to figure out who you are.”
“And that would be bad.” He said, but it came out more as a question.
Tony frowned as he answered, “Yes Peter, that would be bad.  If the press found out you were my son, they’d hound you nonstop, and it wouldn’t be for only a couple weeks.  It’d be forever.  The unfortunate curse of being a Stark.”  
Peter swallowed hard, thinking of the paperwork he’d just signed to officially make himself a Stark.
“And that wouldn’t even be the worst part.” Tony explained, looking stricken.  “Certain people might see you as a tool they could use to try to get to me.  You’d never be safe, and I don’t want that for you.”
“They could try,” Peter smiled, trying to reassure his dad, “but I’m Spiderman.  I’m not so easy to get to.”
“Don’t underestimate the crazies.” Tony shook his head.  “It’s not a risk I’m willing to take.”
“So, if we’re not going to do anything about it, then why are you telling me?” He asked.
“Because I want you in the loop.  In case things come up or go wrong, I want you to know how serious it could be.”
“Ok.  I guess that makes sense.” Peter’s brow furrowed as another thought struck him.  “Wait.  Is this the emergency Pepper got called back to deal with?”
Tony nodded.  
Peter immediately felt guilty.  Because of him, because of something to do with him, Pepper had needed to run back to work to deal with the fallout.
Tony must’ve seen the guilt on his face.  “Don’t worry kid.  Compared to some of the things I’ve put her through, this is nothing.  And the game plan’s simple.  We’re doing nothing.  We’re not confirming or denying anything or making a statement.  It’s literally no extra work for Pep.”
“I don’t know.” Peter mumbled.   “She looked pretty stressed.”
Tony waved a hand in dismissal.  “She’ll be fine.  Believe me.  The woman’s as tough as nails.”
That got a smile out of him.  “I know.”
“Good.” His dad ruffled his hair again and he groaned in fake complaint.  “You’re done with your homework, right?”
“Yeah.” It wasn’t exactly a lie.  He’d done the problem set he’d been working on, but he still had a mountain load to do by the end of winter break.
“What do you say we go down to the workshop and work on the new updates to my suit?”
“I’m in.” He stood, always eager to work on the Ironman armor.
Tony got off the desk and wrapped an arm around his shoulders as they walked out of his room and to the workshop together.  It should’ve been comforting but Peter still didn’t feel completely at ease.  Even though Tony had tried to reassure him, he couldn’t shake the troubled look on his dad’s face from his mind.
“Hey Ned.” Peter answered his phone as he laid on his mattress.  Tony had sent him to bed an hour ago but he still hadn’t been able to fall asleep.  The phone call was a welcome interruption from staring at the ceiling.
“Dude you’re on TV!  You’re famous!” Ned erupted in excitement.
Peter groaned and rubbed his eyes.
“Have you seen the news?  Like literally everyone is talking about you.  I’m friends with a celebrity!”
“I haven’t seen it yet but I’ve heard.” Peter sighed.  “And no one can know it’s me Ned.  You have to keep it to yourself.  You can’t even tell your parents, got it?”
“Oh man.” Ned whined.  “Are you serious?”
“Yes.  I mean it.” Peter reiterated.  “Tony will flip if someone finds out that I’m the one in the picture.”
“You don’t think someone’s going to figure it out?”
“I don’t know.  Tony didn’t seem to think so.  I guess it’s not that great of a picture.”
Ned hummed.  “Yeah it is pretty blurry.  I might not have even known it was you except I knew it was you.”
Peter snorted.
“That sucks though dude.  I thought I was going to be famous by proxy.” Ned said with disappointment.
Peter grinned.  “I don’t think it works that way.”
“I already had an awesome tag line idea for my twitter.”
“Uh huh.”
“Do you want to hear it?”
“Sure.  Why not?”
“It was going to be, ‘Best friend of Ironkid.  Friend of the Avengers.’  What do you think?”
“I think maybe keep working on it.” Peter laughed.  “And my name wouldn’t be Ironkid.”
“Are you kidding?  The media’s not all that creative.  If they found out you were Ironman’s kid I’m pretty sure they’d dub you Ironkid.”
Peter made a face in disgust.  “Oh god I hope not.  That’s reason enough to make sure they don’t find out.”
Ned laughed over the phone.
“So I guess for now I have to stick with secretly being Spiderman’s guy in the chair?”
“And Peter Parker’s best friend.  Sorry.”
“It’s all right.  I like that role better anyway.” Peter could hear Ned’s honest smile in his voice.  “Besides, we both know I probably do better work behind the scenes than out in the spotlight.”
“Yeah and it might sound fun at first, but it would totally suck to not be able to go anywhere without being recognized.”
“Yeah you’re right.  Although, I bet we could get some sweet Comic-Con tickets if people knew who you were.”
“Tony can get those for us anyway.”  Peter rolled his eyes.  “And if no one knows who I am, we can go and not get mobbed, and actually have fun.”
“I guess you have a point.” Ned agreed.
Peter heard muffled voices coming from across the speaker of Ned’s phone.
“Um sorry dude but my mom says I have to go to bed.” Ned said.  “I’ll call you tomorrow.”
“Ok.  Good night Ned.” Peter said with a smile.
“Good night.”
Peter plugged his phone back into the charger and set it on the nightstand.  Fatigue leadened his eyelids, and he closed his eyes as he settled into his soft pillows.  Talking to Ned had at least helped him finally destress.  Sleep was no longer so hard to find.
“How does that feel?” Ross sneered at him as he stabbed a knife straight into his thigh.
Peter couldn’t hold back a cry of pain.  He instinctively tried to grab the offending object but he couldn’t move his arms.  They were tied behind him as he sat helpless in a chair.
“Hurts, doesn’t it?” Ross said with grim pleasure as he slowly twisted the knife.
It burned.  Electric shocks of agony danced through his leg.
“Stop.” He moaned and crumpled forward at his waist, but he only had enough slack to make it a few inches.
Ross snorted in amusement.
“You want me to stop?  Oh no.  We’re just getting started.” Ross said and ripped the knife out of his leg.  It hurt almost as much as getting stabbed in the first place and Peter cried out again.  He panted as blood bubbled from the wound, too much too fast.
Ross leaned forward and placed the edge of the blood coated knife on his bare chest.
“No.” He pleaded.  “Please.”
The corner of Ross’s lip twisted up in a crazed smile and he pressed down.
Peter watched as blood flowed out and around the knife as it carved into his skin.
“No!” He tried to thrash away but he couldn’t as Ross trailed the knife across his chest to form a burning line of red.
Peter couldn’t help it.  He was crying now.  It hurt.  And there was so much blood dripping down his chest and out of his leg.  He was going to die.  Oh god.  Ross wasn’t going to stop.  He was going to keep going until he slowly killed him.
The man placed the knife a couple inches below the line of open skin and repeated the process, forming another crimson line of open flesh.  Peter didn’t want to look but he couldn’t help it.  The cuts were deep enough he thought he could see flashes of white bone underneath.
“Stop.  Stop!  Please.” He begged through his sobs.
Ross ignored him and continued the process, dragging the knife over his skin to make a third line.
Peter screamed.  He didn’t want to die.  He didn’t.
“Help!  Someone please!  Help!” He yelled hoarsely even though he knew it was hopeless.  He was all alone with Ross.
“No one’s coming to save you.” Ross taunted.  “Not even Daddy.”
Peter whimpered at that.  He wanted his dad.  Ross carved another slice across his front.
“Dad!” He screamed this time, clenching his eyes shut at the pain.  He knew it was pointless and that Ross was right.  Tony wasn’t coming to save him, but he couldn’t help instinctively calling for him.  “Dad!  Help!  Please.  Dad!”
Ross gripped his shoulders and gave them a firm shake.  Why had Ross stopped hurting him?  Peter’s eyes snapped open in confusion.
Instead of Ross, all he saw was a darkened figure leaning over him, holding his shoulders.
“You’re all right.” The figure soothed.  Not Ross.  Peter blinked and immediately recognized his dad.  He took in the rest of his surroundings.  He was in his room.  In bed.  He spread a hand across his chest but there was nothing there.  His leg was fine too.  Nothing hurt.  It’d all just been a bad dream.  Ross didn’t have him anymore.  Right.  Tony had saved him.  And Ross was dead.
Tony sat perched on the edge of the bed and Peter wasted no time in sitting up and wrapping his arms around the man.
“You’re all right.” His dad repeated softly into his hair.
Peter closed his eyes and melted into the comfort.
“I’m sorry.” He mumbled.  He had no idea what time it was, but Tony was wearing pajamas so Peter knew he’d woken him up.
His dad shushed him and rubbed a hand over his back.
After a long minute of silent comfort, Tony said, “You were calling for me.”
Peter knew it was a question as much as a statement.  His dad was offering him a chance to talk about his dream but he wasn’t going to force it.
“I was back there.” Peter whispered into Tony’s chest.  “Ross had me.”
Tony made a sound of displeasure but Peter continued, “He was hurting me and he wouldn’t stop and I couldn’t get free and no one was coming to save me and I just wanted you.”
“I’m right here.” Tony said, squeezing him even tighter.  “You’re safe.”
“It felt so real.” Peter mumbled.
“It wasn’t.” Tony tangled a hand in the hair at the back of his head.  “You’re not there.  And Ross is gone.  He’ll never hurt you again.”
“I know.  It’s stupid.  I’m sorry.”
“It’s not stupid.” Tony said firmly.  “What you went through was traumatic.  Someone took you, held you hostage, and hurt you.  I’d be surprised if you weren’t having nightmares about it.  Hell, I’m having nightmares about it.”
“You are?” Peter pulled back and saw the truth in his dad’s eyes.
“Yeah.” Tony tried to smile as he palmed his cheek, but he just looked sad.  “Of course.  Someone took you from me and hurt you as a way to get to me.  That’s the very definition of my worst nightmare.”
“Really?”
“Yes.  Really.” Tony rubbed a thumb over his cheek.  “You’re the most important thing to me.  How many times do I have to tell you that before you finally start to believe me?”
“Lots.” Peter said and grinned.  “Maybe because I like to hear it.”
Tony let out a short huff of amusement and dropped the hand on his face so he could ruffle his hair.  “You seem better.”
“Yeah.” He agreed.  He did feel better.  With his dad so close, the fear from his nightmare seemed miles away now instead of lurking in the room.  “Thanks.”
“Think you’ll be able to get back to sleep?” Tony asked.  “It’s still pretty late.”
“I think so.” He said even though he wasn’t sure.  The yawn that escaped him a couple seconds later seemed to contradict his doubts.
Tony nodded and stood, fluffing his pillow for him and then gently guiding him backward to land on it.  Once he was settled, his dad pulled the covers up to his chin and brushed the hair off his forehead before lightly pressing a kiss there.
“Get some sleep.” His dad whispered.
Peter hummed in response, eyes already drifting closed.  He expected to hear the door click shut as Tony walked out, but instead, a few moments later, he felt the other side of his bed tip.  Peter cracked his eyes open and watched with a frown as his dad crawled into the other side of it.
“What are you doing?” He asked.
“Shh go to sleep.” Tony said, reaching a hand across the space between them to place it briefly over his eyes to close them.  “I’m keeping the nightmares away.”
“Mine or yours?” Peter joked.
Tony chuckled.  “Both.”
“Night dad.”
“Good night kiddo.”
“I love you.” He mumbled as sleep pulled irresistibly at him.
“I love you too.” His dad said back and Peter could hear all the fondness and love infused in the sentence.  “Now go to sleep.”
Peter hummed tiredly in agreement.  With his dad next to him, a sense of safety encompassed him, and he had no trouble slipping quickly back to sleep.
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carrotsofavonlea · 5 years ago
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Drive Me Crazy
Epilogue
[AO3]
It had been a year since the centennial dance (and since Anne and Gilbert had officially begun dating for real). College life had been tricky at first, but Anne soon sunk into it, finding some new kindred spirits along the way, although she still had her beloved Diana with her at Queens. Gilbert was a thousand miles away in Toronto, but that didn’t stop them. Thanks to modern technology, they were constantly texting and calling - but what Anne adored even more where the occasional hand written letters from Gilbert. Some of the other girls in her dorm sneered whenever Anne received the little notes in the familiar handwriting, but she didn’t let it get to her. They were just jealous that their boyfriends didn’t write love letters to them.
“Are you doing anything special tonight?” Diana had just come back from a lecture, dumping her bag on her bed as Anne looked up from her desk.
“No…” Anne sighed, leaning back in her chair. “Maybe a video chat but that’s it.”
It was their anniversary of their first official date. Things had not started conventionally between Anne and Gilbert: did they choose when they started fake dating? The centennial? The first time they met as kids? But instead they went with an impartial first official date as the anniversary day.
“It sucks not being with him, today of all days.”
Anne sighed, looking back at the small framed picture on her desk. It was from the summer when they had organised a big group bonfire. In the photo, the sun was almost setting and Anne had her arms around Gilbert as he gave her a piggyback, her head fitting perfectly in the crook between his neck and shoulder as he leaned in to kiss her cheek. Her pinboard in her room was like a scrapbook mixed with a diary with all her timetables scattered between notes from Gilbert and photos of all her friends at home. Diana often called her side of the room a “Gilbert shrine” but Anne knew she didn’t mean any cruel sentiment behind it. Besides, from the photos Gilbert had sent of his room, he had done pretty much the same.
“It’s only a few more weeks until spring break.” Diana held out her arms and Anne sat next to her, leaning her head on her shoulder as Diana comforted her. “You’ll be able to make up for it.”
“I suppose so...I just wish he could be here, even for just the day.”
Diana smiled, but there was something behind it that Anne couldn’t read. She shrugged it off, not giving it much thought any longer.
“I better go, I’ve got practise.” Diana stood up, gathering some papers and shoving them in her bag.
“I’m glad you’re still playing piano.” Anne went over to her own side of the room, flopping onto her bed. “But I thought you didn’t have a show for a while?”
Diana hesitated for a moment, “Oh well...you can never be too practised. I don’t know how long I’ll be. See you later.” And just like that she’d practically run from the room.
It was strange...Diana didn’t normally keep secrets from Anne.
But she didn’t have time to dwell on it too long before her phone lit up; a big picture of Gilbert pulling a stupid face she’d set as his contact photo told her he was trying to video call her.
“Hey!” his big cheesy grin filled the screen, but it dropped when he saw Anne didn’t match his enthusiasm. “What’s wrong?”
Anne shrugged, “Just missing you, I guess.”
He smiled, never tiring of hearing that. “And I miss you, carrots.”
The video quality was worse than usual, and there was a lot of background noise.
“Are you going somewhere?” Anne tried to see what was in the background, but Gilbert held the phone closer to his face.
“Uh, just a walk…”
“...Ok?” he was acting weird.
“What have you been up to today?” he tried to steer the conversation to something casual.
“Not much. Studying. Lectures. More studying.” she laughed, leaning on her elbow as she talked, kicking her legs behind her on the bed. “What about you?”
“I didn’t have any classes today. Oh sorry!” he was too busy looking at the screen that he bumped into someone on the street. The camera panned up slightly, and Anne thought there was something oddly familiar about one of the buildings behind Gilbert.
But it must just be her imagination.
“I’ve got a gift for you.” he said, once again looking at Anne. “But it’s on it’s way from Toronto so I don’t know how long it’ll take to get to you. Should be soon though.” there was a boyish grin on his face, and Anne knew something was definitely up. She’d known him practically all her life and knew when he was lying or hiding something.
“Hang on a moment.” he said, lowering the phone to his side so all she could see was the side of his jeans. There was muttering but Anne couldn’t make out what was being said. “Sorry about that.” he said, holding the camera so only half of his face was visible.
“Gilbert Blythe what are you up to?” she laughed.
“Nothing, nothing.” but his voice was higher than normal.
There came a knock at Anne’s door and she sighed, couldn’t she have just one moment?
“Hold on, someone’s at my door. I’ll go tell them to go away.” she left her phone on her bed, getting up to politely shoo away whoever was at the door.
“I hope you don’t tell me to go away.” Gilbert stood at the door, phone in his hand.
It took Anne a second to register what was happening. He was here? Gilbert? But the phone? And Toronto? But he’s…”Gilbert?”
She threw her arms around his neck, almost knocking him to the floor. He wrapped his arms around her in return spinning her around in the small hallway.
“What are you doing here?” she cupped his cheeks in her hands as if to check he was real, brushing a curl from his forehead.
“I couldn’t miss the chance to celebrate a year since Anne Shirley Cuthbert says she loves me.” he smiled, leaning forward to kiss her, but their lips had just touched when Anne pulled back.
“But wait, how did you even get in the building?”
“Diana knew all along, she helped me plan it all.” he said, his arms still holding her waist. “That’s who I was talking to just now, she let me in.”
It all started to make sense now, why everyone was acting weird. Anne made a mental note to remember to thank Diana later. But right now, all she wanted was to focus on Gilbert.
“How long are you here for?”
“I want to say as long as you’ll let me, but I have class Monday. My flight leaves Sunday afternoon but we still have one and a half days together.” he pressed his forehead against hers before properly kissing her.
“Do I have to stay in the hallway?” he raised an eyebrow, making Anne laugh as she grabbed his hand and pulled him into her dorm room.
Over the years whenever anyone asked them, “ how did you get together?”, the answer was always met with a laugh and a response of “ It’s a long story ”. But Anne would enjoy telling it: the tragical romance of best friends turned enemies turned fake dating turned real lovers.
It was complicated and messy, but it was real.
///
Tag List: @rohaintahquil @hakunamademons @thxnderclouds@awaeforlife@m1rkw00dpr1ncess @mrs-shirley-cuthbert-blythe@nerdybrunette @i-ammischiefmanaged @sarahisatotalgeek @neomikaha@etsatymton @parkeroffline
Thank you for all the support this fic has recieved! I can't believe it! None of my fics have blown up like this so it's crazy and I'm amazed this many people wanted to read something I've written! I'm so glad people enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it! 
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hollyand-writes · 5 years ago
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Quarantine Q&A
I was tagged by the lovely @gremlinquisitor ❤️ Sorry it took me so long to get round to doing this!
Tagging: anyone who feels up to it -- like Erin said in her own post, take care of yourself first, and if you don’t feel like you can talk about this, then please don’t try to force it. ❤️
Are you staying home from work or school?
My husband and I have both been working from home since mid-March. I was already pretty much working from home before that anyway (been doing it for about a decade), so I was used to it and therefore don’t feel my life has changed dramatically. We’re really lucky that our jobs can be done 100% from home -- March and April were really busy months for both of us work-wise, so I think that helped us both cope and feel useful. 
In a weird way, lockdown didn’t/doesn’t upset or stress me out? I think it’s because I had a head start on worrying about the pandemic back in January: I have family in China/HK/SE Asia and I was really, really worried about them for a bit. I follow a few Chinese-language social media accounts of people based in China / East Asia and what was coming out of there was really, really bad -- sometimes worse than what was being reported in Western media -- and people over there were so angry and terrified for months before anyone in the West started worrying about it, I think. 
So, by the time the pandemic hit the UK and lockdown was announced, I think I was just relieved that finally there was something I could “do” about what was going on in the world, if that made sense??? I’d been reading these first-hand anonymous accounts “on the ground” in Chinese for two months by that point, so I felt like I kind of knew what to expect physically and emotionally. (My family and family-friends out there are all fine as far as I know, btw.)
If you’re staying home, who’s with you?
My husband. 9 weeks into lockdown and we’re still very much enjoying having each other around! He misses his colleagues, but he doesn’t miss his commute. We have the odd Zoom party and catch up with his family on FaceTime (it’s weird how it took a pandemic for us to think of video-calling them instead of phoning them), but yeah, he’s been great lockdown company and I love having him home! I don’t want him to go back to work LMAO! 
We work in the same room, but tend to be very good at focusing on our work during the work day, so we don’t really distract each other and give each other space when needed (mentally rather than physically, though; we live in a tiny flat with only like 3 rooms so it’s hard to give each other physical space). We play endless games of Civ6 against the other during breaks from work.
Are you a homebody?
Before 2020? No, not at all. But after lockdown started? I’ve been discovering the delights of just chilling at home with my husband, being busy and in-demand at work, writing, reading books, teaching myself Photoshop (working through an online course LMAO) and playing Civ. 
Also I’ve been really happy about all the money I’m saving from not going out and not buying anything apart from food and books LMAO! 
I’ve not really felt very talkative this year; and after lockdown started, that even extended to many of my real-life friends -- I’ve just felt happy staying at home and not talking to anyone except my husband, for some reason. (As an aside -- sorry to all of you on Tumblr and Discord for not chatting so much -- it’s not personal, it’s just whatever phase I’m going through, both IRL and online!) I’m not depressed or anything, I don’t think -- just happy doing my own thing for a bit.
An event that you were looking forward to that got cancelled.
The one that I was most gutted about was the Euro 2020 football tournament (soccer to you Americans of course) -- I had tickets to go to the final in July. But the organisers said they’ll hold the tournament next year and tickets will be valid, so I don’t feel so bad about it now. 
I miss the gym the most, I think. Everything else has kind of sorted itself out (even cancelled events), but the gym / working-out thing hasn’t. I started doing some home workouts with resistance bands at first, but I’ve fallen out of the habit of that somewhat -- it’s just not the same as having an actual barbell in your hands.
I was also meant to go on holiday to Greece with friends (12 of us) but that’s been cancelled. Funnily enough, when lockdown was announced in the UK I was secretly relieved, because I had a lot of social events lined up and my social life had been so busy up to that point that I was starting to get rather overwhelmed with it all. Turns out I’m an extrovert with a strong introvert streak.
What movies have you watched recently? What shows are you watching?
Hmmmm.... not really so much movies, I think. Aside from Frozen 2 (again). We’re currently working our way more through the 1994 BBC TV series of the classic novel Middlemarch (because I’ve been reading it), but we tend to play Civ, or read, or bake/cook, rather than watch TV.
What music are you listening to?
Gosh, loads, haha! The Frozen 2 soundtrack. Ibiza clubland tunes (to remind me of good times, LOL). Listened to old Eurovision tracks over the weekend (to get me in the spirit, even if Eurovision 2020 was cancelled). Attended virtual concerts that my friends in music bands have been holding. Pretty much everything you can imagine, whenever the mood strikes. Today I was listening to Suede’s Singles.
What are you reading?
Right now I’m reading “Middlemarch” by George Eliot; I’ve been getting through lots of books since February, both fiction and non-fiction.
That said, I’ve not really felt like reading fanfic much -- stopped reading Dragon Age fanfiction in December or January (and completely fell out of the fandom for a while, too) so I’m really behind on every longfic I was following. I’m only just starting to catch up on it all, in May, although I don’t see myself being in fandom/online that much. I’ll get to all your fics eventually! I’m just slow 😄
What are you doing for self-care?
Lots of things, and I think they’re helping because I’ve been coping OK so far (sorry this list is so long!): 
Staying offline -- especially off Tumblr and Discord and Twitter -- more often, which has really helped me get work done (sorry I’ve not been around much, though) and finally getting around to doing all those projects I didn’t have time to do / wasn’t home often enough to do is helping, especially when I can see progress being made 
Weekly therapy sessions -- started these last year when my brother got very seriously ill; the therapy sessions have now moved online via video-call rather than face-to-face and in-person, but I’m still keeping up with them through the pandemic. I haven’t felt like I need it, tbh, but I figured it couldn’t hurt to keep having therapy just in case...
Being grateful for how lucky I am -- I’m still alive and well for now, as are my loved ones, my husband and I are still in jobs / earning money, and things could be a lot worse; for example, at least I’m still able to go for walks in the park: my brother is officially a “vulnerable category” person who has to stay completely indoors and self-isolate for 12 weeks, even though he’s in remission; he can’t even go to the shops to get food
Working -- it’s been really nice sometimes to keep busy. The nature of my work means that unfortunately I can’t completely switch off from the news, so I tend to look at less of the bad and sad news and consume more the “how does the pandemic affect my specific specialism or field” news -- I find that limiting my news consumption is helping
Husband and I go for a walk in the park in the sunshine once a day (it’s been warm and sunny in London ever since lockdown started in March) for like 45 minutes a day. We have a really lovely park and I’ve taken lots of nice nature photos, and have discovered parts of the park and our neighbourhood that we didn’t know before, which has been very exciting 😁
We’ve been cooking and baking a lot more because we’re not commuting, and we’ve got time to cook ourselves nicer / healthier meals, and experimenting with baking puddings and cakes.
Taking multivitamins and fish oil every day, with boosters for Vitamin D3 and magnesium -- I actually think the latter has helped me sleep better and helped with motivation this year, but who knows LOL
FaceTime with husband’s family -- I actually think this lockdown has improved the quality of our relationships there, and they’ve been really happy to chat to us more often than usual
Just... not pushing myself on anything: usually I’m a really chatty and sociable person, but this year I’ve been far less chatty and just not felt so sociable, and just enjoyed being away from people to read and write or whatever. My one and only goal in 2020 is to survive it -- literally, given that there’s a pandemic on, LOL. Anything else is a bonus.
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Text
There’s Always Another Summer
It all started on La Huerta, and it all ended here—or so it seemed. After Taylor used her connection to Vaanu to help Rourke, the whole world had been changed, and the change was not for the better. Finding her way in the dystopian empire, she tries to reconnect with her friends, build a relationship with her newfound family, find the love she had lost… and change the fate of an entire planet once again.
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Chapter 1: All Gone Wrong
Masterlist / Chapter 2 »
A/N: Ah, where do I start? I first got the idea in July, in La Huerta tapas bar (no kidding), and it was supposed to be a series of drabbles/one-shots. But you know how these things go, and now it’s full series. If I ever finish it. (If I don’t, ping me. Seriously! I already know how it ends, why shouldn’t you)
The story starts after the events of Rourke’s ending, and it’s focusing on friendships and adventure rather than romance. It’s still based on my playthrough, where Taylor married Jake, so if you don’t like these two together, I’m sorry. If you do, I’m sorry.
Some parts were written in my first language and translated into English. I tried my best to find and fix any mistakes that happened in the process (and believe me, I won’t do it again, it’s twice the job), but if you see something I missed, feel free to tell me (that’s how I learn!). All mistakes are mine and mine alone. All characters (sadly) belong to Pixelberry. I’m just borrowing them for an eternity while.
Tags: @brightpinkpeppercorn​ @zaffrenotes​ @politicallycorrectinnocentteen @ifyouseekheart​; thanks for the vote of confidence guys! I hope you either enjoy it or forgive me ;-) happy Thanksgiving, or just happy Thursday!
It’s all gone wrong Heaven hold us Where do we go When it’s all over? — Raign
To say things were bad, was to say nothing at all. It didn’t seem that way at first. Sure, the world would have been better without Rourke calling himself the emperor, but on the outside, things looked good. The sun was still shining, the sky was still blue, people still lived, loved, laughed. You couldn’t see something was wrong until you started digging. One day you could hear your neighbor murmuring some angry words at the government; the next, everyone pretended they never existed. If you knew who to ask, you could learn some rumors about friends-of-my-second-cousin who went into service and never came back. Or even darker stories about those who did—and weren’t the same people anymore.
And it was all Taylor’s fault.
There wasn’t a day when she didn’t regret her decision. Time after time, Rourke proved they shouldn’t trust him, and she still took his offer. What little powers she had, she gave up for a promise of a better life. All because Jake asked. That night was forever ago, but the look on his face kept haunting her. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw his blue eyes looking at her pleadingly, cheeks wet with tears—please, it would mean everything to me. He hated the guy’s guts and still begged her to go with his plan. She could, and should have, said no. She didn’t.
Not that there was much she could do, anyway. Yes, agreeing to Rourke’s plan wasn’t their only option. They could stay on the island and watch the world burn, or—she felt a pang of guilt—she could save them all by sacrificing herself. It would be the right thing to do, one life exchanged for billions of others. Movie heroes wouldn’t hesitate. Hell, even Mike didn’t, just moments earlier. Maybe if she was a better person...? No! No, one thing for sure, she wasn’t a selfish monster—at least that’s what she kept telling herself. It was just hard to believe it anymore.
“Nevermind,” she thought, shaking her head. What’s been done has been done, and thinking about what could have been was a waste of time. The world was full of people who signed up without reading the fine print, Taylor wasn’t the first, and she certainly wouldn’t be the last one. And as much as she hated to admit it, Rourke kept his end of the deal—kind of. Her friends might not remember her, but at least they were safe. Jake got Mike back, and they were both alive, just far from being fine. And she... she got the family she always wanted.
A brief smile crossed Taylor’s lips. Family. It was surprising, but Rourke did a great job picking her parents. They seemed like one of the good ones, and she sometimes wondered who they really were. Did he know them before it all happened? Were they a figment of his imagination that came true? Either way, it was easy to believe they were related. She somehow seemed to have both of her parents’ qualities combined; her father’s easygoing attitude and (a bit too short) temper, her mother’s charm, wit, and overprotectiveness. Even their appearance was on point, from the messy hair of her father to her mother’s calm smile. There were photos of their three together, keepsake boxes, scrapbooks, and the new memories of a happy childhood.
It was a beautiful picture, indeed. Only when the first excitement faded away, Taylor realized there was hardly anything more than that. There was no meaning and no depth behind the picture. A psychopath like Rourke wouldn’t know the difference, but she did. The most important things—love, affection, trust—were missing. No matter how hard she tried, how badly she wanted to believe it was all real, it didn’t work. Finally, one day, she snapped and tried to tell her parents the truth. Okay, she had to admit, maybe the Sunday dinner wasn’t the best time to do it—but there would never be a good time for it anyway. It didn’t go too well, and now that she thought about it, she couldn’t tell what she expected. Even Diego didn’t believe her story, why would they be different?
“Are you still with me, Taylor?”
She blinked a few times. Where was she? Ah, yes, the weekly therapy session. The argument caused her parents to show the first real emotion in months: fear. It wasn’t that surprising. The fact they weren’t afraid of her, but for her, was. Maybe they did care, after all. They didn’t report her to the thought police, or whatever name Rourke gave to his force; they brought a professional who was supposed to help.
“I’m sorry. I—it’s hard for me to talk about it.” God, when did she learn to lie like that? Ever since she realized her therapist was one of the people who loved the sound of their own voice, she spent their sessions daydreaming about one thing or another. The chatter was merely background noise, and all she did was coming up with a generic response when it stopped. No wonder the therapy wasn’t working at all.
“Ah, that’s understandable.” The therapist shot what was probably supposed to be an encouraging smile, but actually reminded Taylor about a giant barracuda. “As I said, the brain can create false memories, especially after traumatic events. It tries to protect you and replaces the painful memory with a fake one. It could be anything. Something from a book you have read, or a movie—”
Oh, if only you knew, Taylor smiled bleakly at the round-faced woman. It would have been a hell of a lot easier if it was just a book or a movie, or even something entirely made up by her imagination. Yes, her brain made up things to fill the void, only it wasn’t what they all thought. It made up all things that made her human. How was she supposed to live with that? She dropped her head and stared at her worn-out shoes when a sudden realization hit her like a hammer. Hell, her brain made up her own name. From a freaking sneaker label. How come she didn’t see it earlier?
Suddenly, she was ripped out of the office, hurtling through space and time, and when she opened her eyes, all she could see was red. She doubled over in pain, touching her forehead to her knees. She felt something sticky, and to her horror, realized it was blood. It was in her eyes, on her hands, her legs, the warm sand, everywhere—
“What’s your name?” She heard a faint whisper, and a weak hand grabbed her arm.
I can’t remember! She wanted to scream, but no sound came out. I don’t know. My name? Do I have one? I don’t think so. Should I? She lowered her head again, trying to stop it from spinning, and then she saw it. Yes. Might as well be it. Chuck doesn’t seem like a girl’s name, but—
“Taylor. My name’s Taylor.”
“I’m—” the hand she was holding went limp, and she knew it was over. Whoever it was, they were gone, and she didn’t even get to know their name. Gone, just like that. She looked around and realized they were all dead. Twelve young people, with their whole lives ahead of them, were now gone for good.
She was on her own.
Taylor gasped for air, and the sudden pain in her chest brought her back to reality. A small drop of blood fell onto her shoes, and she felt sick. It was just a flashback, a memory of a life that wasn’t even entirely her own—but it was too much. She pushed the chair, murmured an apology, and ran from the office. Air. She needed some air, stat, or else she’ll throw up. Everything seemed to blur in a hurry—
“Hey, watch out!”
“Oof! I’m so sorry!” Taylor steadied herself against the wall and took a deep breath. She recognized the voice, red hair, blue eyes, even the white shirt was the same. “I didn’t see you. Really sorry about that. Are you alright?”
“Yeah, I’m fine. My coffee, that’s another story. What—” The redhead gasped. “Oh, God. You’re bleeding.”
“It’s nothing. A little bloody nose, that’s all. I’m sorry about your coffee, Quinn.”
“Wait.” The redhead drew her brows together. “How did you know my name? Have we met?”
“Yeah. The first day of uni, by the fountain, remember me? I didn’t make the best first impression, I’m afraid.” Taylor chuckled, relieved. “And now I completely blew the second one. Why don’t we go to the cafe across the street and I’ll make it up to you. You know, third time’s the charm? Please?”
Quinn’s face fell. “I can’t. I have an appointment with Dr. Andrews.”
“I just left her office, and let me tell you, she sucks.” Taylor winced. “Big time. Please? I won’t tell anyone. And if you want to talk, I’m a good listener.”
“Ah, to hell with it. After you!” Quinn laughed, and they ran down the hallway, giggling like two fifth-graders skipping classes. They were already at the door when she stopped and looked over her shoulder with a frown. “Crap! She saw us.”
“Who?”
“My friend. Michelle. She’s an intern here.”
Taylor turned to look at another familiar face. With her white coat and hair tied into a high ponytail, Michelle looked almost like her older counterpart from Vaanu’s ember of hope. At least one of us is making her dreams come true, she thought with a smile. “Don’t worry. This one’s on me. If she gives you any trouble, you know who to blame!”
She was right about the third time being better than the previous two. They had one coffee, then another one, a few cupcakes, talked, laughed... almost as if they knew each other their whole lives.
“There you are! Why don’t you answer my calls?” Diego dropped into the chair and looked at them with reproach. “I finally got the perfect title! What do you think about Endless Summer—”
“Hello to you, too!” Taylor sneered and gestured across the table. “Diego, this is Quinn. Quinn, this is Diego. He’s my best friend. And we... kinda write a book together.”
“A graphic novel, actually.” He protested. “And it’s Taylor’s idea, only she says she couldn’t put two words together even if she tried. Now, I don’t mean to brag or anything, but I’m pretty good at it.”
“Yeah, only we don’t know anyone who can draw.”
“Actually... I can,” Quinn smiled broadly. “Well, I mostly paint, but I’m always up for a challenge. I can show you a few of my works... if you want me to?”
Taylor shared a look with Diego, and they both nodded vigorously. She pulled a sketchbook out of her backpack and handed it to them, blush rising up on her cheeks.
“I never showed this to anyone. Please don’t laugh. It’s just... I’m having these strange dreams, and I don’t want to forget them...”
They both stared at a picture of an impossibly enormous tree rising into the sky. There was a whole city carved into its side. Little huts perched on the branches and the wooden bridges hung between them, held together by vines. Diego inhaled sharply, and Taylor felt tears welling up in her eyes. Quinn remembered. The memories were buried deep within her, but they were there.
“Quinn...” She squeezed her hand gently. “Do you know what this is?”
“No. As I said, it’s from a dream. I can’t remember the name... I thought it was Yggdrasil, you know, the Norse tree of life? But it’s not that. It’s something similar, but when I wake up, I can’t remember it anymore.”
“Elyystel.” Diego recovered his voice. “Taylor, that’s gotta be the tree city you told me about. Quinn, you’re a genius. Welcome on board!”
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ofcloudyskies · 4 years ago
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good evening marina! <3 @lirapheus
i started a new thread, tumblr kept messing up when i tried to reblog the previous post again?? but we can keep it this way! if anybody else is reading, i hope they enjoy as well~
about glee, i think my favourite season is still s1! the idea for the show felt very fresh at that time and ‘don't stop believing’ always makes me feel nostalgic when i hear it on the radio. i also still have a soft spot for rachel/jesse st.james although that storyline was wild (omg when he crashed an egg on her head??? iconic)
yes, it is daiya no ace!! i'm still into it, even though the story is so long now, vol.1 of the manga had 400 chapters and vol.2 is at over 200 now omg... i also loved free! back in the day, it was one of the shows that got me into anime, i think? :D the more i get to know you, the more similar we seem, i'm also terrible at sports (actually you just mentioned swimming and volleyball, if you're good at any other i'm sorry!! haha) i really like playing voleyball but not with people who take it too seriously, i'm too bad at it to keep up. haikyuu manga has just ended last week, i'm still emotional about it!!! it kept the high quality over all these years, it has the most lovable characters. i hope you enjoy your rewatch! who are your favourites?
i don't really have any tv shows i'm into right now... currently i'm only keeping up with a few animes and exploring the world of chinese dramas. i've recently found out that swords, men with long hair and flowy clothes is an aesthetic i enjoy immensely!! my mind is completely consumed by this one chinese drama called the untamed, to the point of reading through its ao3 tag every night :D what are you watching these days?
we can start reading anytime, it's up to you! i’m not busy these days... i'm technically unemployed, but practically i help out at my parents office (it's located at my house so it doesn't feel like work at all) 
oh, for me 'circe' is the one book that keeps staring at me in bookstores... your cover of wizard of oz is lovely! i always love b&w with red, i have a ton of postcards from london with this color palette :D i actually took a photo of my favourite covers, most of them are from this polish small publisher of japanese literature, i adore their minimalist covers. and jane austin, obviously :D and thanks to you i realized how dusty my bookshelf is, whoops...
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i'm so excited you like 'slowly'!! i hope you get matched with some cool people. i had a few nice conversations but in the end i didn't find anyone i'd keep writing with for longer and i stopped using it some time ago. there were so many people who only replied shortly to my questions but did not start any new topics and i don’t know how to carry the whole conversation on my shoulders, it's tiring... also there was this one guy that was easy to talk to and he also told me he liked talking to me but then he didn't reply for months. suddenly he wrote to me out of the blue again, we exchanged a few letters and he stopped replying again. i'm still flustrated about it??? and it's been a few months since then ahaha. maybe i'll try it again sometime cause i still adore the concept behind the app. i hope you have better luck than me :D let me know how it goes! on the other hand there's also postcrossing, have you heard about it? you get an address of a random person in the world and send them a physical postcard. it's really fun too c: but it's a one time thing, when someone gets your postcard, they can reply through the website but that's all.
today was so hot here but probably it still wasn’t as bad as for you in spain. i hope you didn’t melt today! do you live anywhere close to the sea? oh, actually i just remembered i know spanish! i understand almost everything but i'm so bad at talking, i can never remember the words i want. i guess i’ve never had enough practice, i mostly learnt in class. 
if you still read it today, sleep tight!
PS. catch a song that’s been on my mind for 3 days straight now! -> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WvdYFFkOgAA 
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paint-pilot · 4 years ago
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shit it’s been a second, guess it’s time to update again
edit: holy christ this is long, i’m gonna readmore it. tl:dr tyler has many badweird feelings but is getting through it. fun body changes, including hair growth and an unexpectedly nice voice. surgery and legal matters are Annoying. tw for menstruation
it is truly bizarre to think that i’ll have been five months on t in a little under two weeks. another month after that and it’s half a year. it’s uhh...weird. quarantine has just made this all feel weird. it’s like i fast-forwarded through this whole journey i was supposed to go on i guess? like i got randomly torn out of my life one day in march with no warning and then just as suddenly got spat out in august with a new life - new name, new face, new major, new identity - and no transitional period whatsoever. my classmates, my professors, my students, they all have only known me as tyler. and only ever will know me as tyler. and that’s great! it’s great, and i’m truly just blown away by how markedly easy it’s been and how weirdly good my timing was in transitioning. but it almost feels like i’m still a ways behind everyone else, i guess. i’ve spent so much of my life hiding, and lying through my teeth, and covering my ass every second of every day to protect myself, and i don’t have to do that anymore but the instinct is 100% still there and that honestly doesn’t feel good. of course i’m not making any of it up - i’m happier now than i’ve ever been, and i know i’m making the right choice - but it still persistently keeps feeling that way.
it’s just difficult, i think, to balance wanting to be read as male (and, to a large extent, wanting to keep my transness hidden both for safety reasons and so people don’t start treating me differently) and finding it difficult to hide this truly massive life change that, like, four people are really seeing anything of. and y’all, i guess, lol. it’s one thing to talk about all this in therapy, but it’s another entirely to just be able to share it with strangers and not worry about it being weird.
i was writing this with the intent of it being a mostly happy update but i guess there is some negativity boiling up so. gotta be honest, i guess? there’s a lot of fun trauma stuff i’ve been going through lately that i won’t get into but it’s culminated with this bullshit in this really fun way where my mom gets upset because i get kind of uncomfortable when she shows me childhood photos or tells stories about me as a little kid and then i just break down for reasons i really can’t discern. i’m going to try and articulate this, and who knows how messy it’s going to get, so i apologize if it gets kind of incoherent from here on out. as far as i can tell the root thing that she really gets upset about is that i’ve “thrown away” my whole previous identity. like, not a direct quote, but “you can’t just pretend [deadname] never existed. because she did, for a long time.” and...sure, i guess. i know this has been hard on my mom. i know she was raised in a conservative family, and while she has worked hard to adopt an accepting and open mindset she still doesn’t 100% grasp all of it and will make mistakes. i’ve made my peace with that. and yet. it’s not so much, really, that i was this other person and then became tyler, y’know? tyler did not appear suddenly two years ago where she once stood. tyler put on a mask, even before he knew he was tyler, because tyler was scared and ashamed but people seemed to like her and, for a time, she was an easy person to be. and i hated her. that is so fucking scary for me to say, and i’m not sure i’ve admitted that until literally right this second, but i did. not because she was a bad person. because she had a voice and a face and a body that i hated. because people saw her and assumed they knew me. because even she had many faces, because there was no real base or identity to her, just traits designed to paint a pretty picture and make people like her. because i knew, when i finally threw her away, people would miss her. compare me to her. expect me to be like her.
so i don’t know. i don’t have a satisfying way to wrap this up, because i honestly don’t know how to face this because i know it is absolutely not just the trans thing that created this situation. i’m kinda warring with myself, because i do kinda want to go back through this blog and delete photos of myself with long hair and whatever (because jesus, i’ve had this thing since i was like 14) but i genuinely don’t know if that’s healthy. i know i’m going back on my bullshit, fretting this way and that over whether something is “healthy” as though that’s an objective term without considering what’s going to make me happy, but honestly? i don’t know anymore. i keep sensing the mental block - the swathes of my childhood that i cannot recall, just vague, constant unease - and i don’t really know if i want to dig into all of that and learn what lies underneath because i’m sort of afraid of it. like i said, i’m happy now, happier than i’ve ever been, and i’d sort of like to just leave it like that. but i guess the length and tone of this post might argue otherwise.
anyways. anyways. enough mental health therapy, more actual hormone therapy updates since that’s what this goddamn thing is supposed to be i think? i’m finally starting to grow some noticeable hairs - my chin hair is coming back after my mom made me shave it before i left for school lol, as are a handful of mustache/lower lip/sideburn hairs. i keep feeling phantom bugs on my legs/feet and i’ve only just now recognized that that’s just leg hairs brushing against places i’m not used to. my appetite has picked up like absolute hell again, too, so i don’t know if i’m just having a metabolic spurt or what. also, i’ve started bruising more? idk what the hell that’s about - i fucking never bruise unless i’ve been hit Hard, and i kind of assumed testosterone would make you less likely to bruise, but then that’s probably just not related to the hormones at all. i was gonna put this in the tags but seeing as this post is already so long i might as well put a readmore and just put this here lol: my period is late, like, four days late, which is exceedingly unusual for me and might mean i’m finally done. or almost done. fingers crossed.
my voice has started to settle, it seems like. i popped out an e2 yesterday, which is Sick, but i’m not as focused on that anymore as i am on the actual quality of my tone. which is...good? i’m not just a baritone, i’m kind of a good one, at least it seems like. i’m really working right now on just getting familiar with my instrument - i’m second-guessing my pitch sensitivity a lot, but i think i really just need to drill and practice until everything starts feeling like second nature again. but since the musical didn’t happen for me, my coach wants to enter me in a classical solo competition next spring. so...no more retirement from competitive singing. i’m back! and thank god, because i’m starting to go crazy without being in musical work lol.
jesus fuck, i have a lot to say. i should probably split this into two posts but i don’t care. i am frustrated; i tried to get an appointment with a pro bono legal program for a name change, but it happened today and i wasn’t invited so apparently i’m on my own. and i’m frustrated. i’m trying to look at internships and shit for next summer, but i kind of can’t apply right now because my legal name and sex don’t line up with my presentation, and i don’t really know how easy it is to get away with that in this day and age and especially in my field. genuinely, if anyone has any advice, i’d appreciate it. i don’t know how long this will take, i don’t know what the requirements are, i don’t know if i’m better off just applying now and hoping they don’t eliminate me before ever getting me an interview. and, of course, i’m working on getting consultations for top surgery, but i keep catching myself procrastinating that. which seems weird, but listen. i’ve said it before but i have to emphasize, i am capital-t Terrified of getting this surgery. i know i need to, i know it will make things better for me, i know now is the time, i know i hate binding and can’t really get away with not doing so, but jesus fuck i am so frightened of anesthesia it’s not even funny. but i guess i’m mostly just calling myself out here and telling myself to quit being a big baby, schedule the thing, and give myself a few months to prepare.
anyway. that’s all i have to say. i’d apologize for ranting, but honestly...i dunno. i know at the start of all this a handful of you requested these updates, and i have to imagine it’s because at least some of you are transitioning, are thinking of doing so, or know someone who is or will be soon. and i just hope someone out there can at least relate, because there honestly just aren’t a lot of comparable life changes out there. or maybe this is just therapeutic for me, that’s fine too.
i have two midterms next week i should be studying for. i should do that.
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ladykateofledfordpark · 5 years ago
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All the Time in the World (Dan x MC)
This fic is inspired by day 24 of the Choices July Challenge hosted by the amazing @kinda-iconic under the profile @choicesjulychallenge !
Dedicated to @mariaoz and @lady-kato , my wonderful friends who helped me so much in this fic!
Tagging also the wonderful @jlpplays1 @itsbrindleybinch and @desiree-0816 ! You’re the best! =D
Day 24 Prompt: Memories
Pairing: Dan x MC (Jade)
Summary: Prom arrives, and Jade has no date. Is this the perfect opportunity to do something?
Unedited.
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Somehow, after everything they endured, prom arrived. Dan didn’t know what to expect from it, but he hoped this time he won’t end up staring at Jade the whole dance.
If he was honest, he didn’t really know how exactly it happened. After the terrible ordeal in Mr. Red’s house, Dan found himself growing closer and closer to Jade. He may have been closer to Stacy beforehand, but life changed the both of them. Stacy started hanging more and more with her cheerleader friends, while he drifted away from them. Jade was so kind, so welcoming, Dan quickly realized how much he missed her in all those years they were apart. Somehow, he felt like she was the only one who understood.
So he opened up little by little, until one day he reached an unsettling realisation.
He trusted her. More than the others of the group, more than his family, more than anyone else. Jade was the first person he would turn to when he needed help, and he hoped she saw him the same way.
“Hey,” Dan approached Jade once the dancing started. She sighed, but didn’t look at him immediately. Her posture was stiff as if she was standing in the spotlight, one of the worst experiences Jade could ever experience. He traced her gaze to Lucas, who was dancing awkwardly with Ava. She didn’t look heartbroken, but rather bitter.
“I could’ve been there. At least then I would have someone to dance with,” Jade pouted. Dan smiled, and when Jade’s eyes met his a similar one bloomed on her face. 
“You’re acting as if being single at prom is the worst thing that can happen to a person.”
“Almost as bad as being Prom Queen.”
“At least then you don’t have to dance alone.”
Jade laughed. “True.”
They watched the dancing couples, and something about the sight made Dan itch to do the same. A part of him urged him to do that, while the other whispered for him to run as fast as possible somewhere safe and Jade-less.
He decided to go with a compromise.
“Let’s head outside.” 
It wasn’t a strange request. In their friendship, Dan and Jade spent many evenings outside, sitting and talking about whatever they wanted. They both preferred that simple quality time over anything else, and these meetings were Dan’s favorite moments of the day.
But if he was honest with himself, every moment with Jade was a treasure.
They walked outside and sat on a cold bench. Usually, Dan was very at ease with Jade, but now he fidgeted. Not every day could he find himself sitting in a tux next to a beautiful girl in a shimmering gold dress. This situation was familiar yet still strange, almost as if it was a dream he once had and forgot. And maybe he did. Ever since Winter Formal he’d been hoping for this moment, in which he would take Jade’s hand and ask her how she felt.
And he would totally do that... at some point. Which was not today.
Dan gazed at his surroundings. Behind him stood the whole school structure, while ahead of him lay the fairly-packed parking lot. To his right was the forest, and to his left the town. Just like always he sat there, wondering what he would have done if he was here so long ago. How would it have been to watch the skeleton monsters attacking homecoming?
Maybe, if he wasn’t under Redfield’s control, he could have… no, would have come. Maybe, in this moment, he wouldn’t be shifting uneasily because Jade would already have given her answer.
However, that wasn’t the case. Something, maybe some force up in the sky, decided then that he needed to be a weird zombie version of himself. He did get the short end of the stick, for sure, but his moment with Jade, deep in that forest, made one thing clear. They shared something special between them, and Dan was lucky he had the opportunity to explore it further.
“It’s nice out here. Cool and comforting.”
Dan met Jade’s eyes, and at that moment he wished he could capture her in a photo. The way her eyes shined, as if she was a brand new person, set his heart pumping faster than he knew was good for him.
Somehow, she succeeded in making his body act like that. Just like, so long ago, she managed to help him escape from Redfield’s control.
Jade really was something special, undoubtedly.
“Doesn’t it bother you seeing Lucas like that?” Dan found himself asking. He shifted slightly, and somehow his arm brushed hers. A strange rush of warmth passed through him, but he forced himself to act nonchalant. The last thing he wanted to do was to give Jade any unease.
She shrugged. “We parted on good terms, and it was fairly mutual, so… no. We’re still great friends, but more like Lily and I. Nothing romantic there.”
“Really?”
Jade didn’t answer immediately, as if she was weighing her words carefully. “Honestly, we’ve been more like friends for quite a while now.”
Dan studied Jade carefully. She shied away from him, refusing to meet his dark eyes. What was she trying to say? Was he wrong to hope that maybe-
“That’s why you broke up?”
“One of the reasons.”
Before Dan could say something else, Jade changed the subject. “I’ve missed you, you know. Back then, with Mr. Re- I mean, Jane.”
“When, exactly?”
She blushed. “Well, I’m not sure exactly. Maybe ever since you entered the hospital, and the rest of us got to know one another better. Maybe… later.”
Dan swallowed. Why was there suddenly so much tension between them?
“Later?”
It was strange to see an uncomfortable Jade. If Dan himself wasn’t nearly as flustered, he may have reveled in it. “Later as in…” she released a heavy breath, “um… homecoming.”
“Oh.” Would she have asked him out if he was awake then? “I wish I could have been there.”
Jade swallowed. “Yeah, but… you’re here now.”
“I am.”
She turned, so she was once again looking into his eyes. Her shoulders were set like that of a warrior’s, and her eyes were more exasperated than ever. “So… do you want to dance, as a way to make this up to me?”
Was it him, or was her voice still slightly uneven?
“Alright, if you’re sure.” Dan hesitantly answered. He got up and held out his hand, as if he actually knew what he was doing. Jade smiled before she put her hand in his. Her body was still tense, but her steps were confident, as if she knew exactly what she wanted. She led him far away from the bench, so they had enough room to comfortably dance.
“So, what exactly are we dancing?”
Jade’s eyes sparked. “Let me pretend, for one moment, that I’m not single.”
He swallowed. “Slow?”
How did his heart manage to pump even faster?
“Got it in one.”
“Alright.”
Jade’s arms circled his neck, and Dan forced himself to wrap his own arms around her waist. Somehow they started swaying to nonexistent music, almost as if they were rehearsing for a big scene at the end of a play.
This was strange, but since when was his life not unusual?
“Not bad,” Jade smirked, “almost lets me forget that I still don’t have a prom date.”
Was it too much to say that he wanted to be her date?
“Don’t look so tortured,” Jade laughed, “there’s more to this dance.”
“Of course,” Dan smiled weakly, and Jade’s smirk immediately disappeared.
“Are you uncomfortable? Because if there’s someone else you want to dance with, it’s okay. I was only joking.”
Dan didn’t know what to say. “No! This… is nice. Like really nice. I-”
A slow smile gradually rose to Jade’s face, and she daringly pulled Dan closer. He could swear that at that moment his heart beat as if he just ran a marathon, and his breaths grew quicker and shallower. Did she notice his strange behavior?
“I have one more question.”
Dan nodded uncertainly. “What is it?”
The mischief twinkled in Jade’s eyes, and once again Dan was struck with how beautiful this girl was. He needed to come closer, but there was no way he would force himself on her like that.
So he forced himself to stay put as Jade’s warm breath touched his ear, her lips whispering words he never thought he’d hear.
“Kiss me.”
Dan froze. He blinked as all the doubts in the world rose inside him. He was probably just hearing things. There was no way that-
“Of course, you don’t have to, but it will help me. And friends help each other, don’t they?”
“Yo-you’re absolutely sure?”
She pulled him so close that their heads were nearly touching. Jade smiled, the sight sending strange tingles down Dan’s whole spine. “Positive.”
She gazed at him expectantly, and a small smile rose to Dan’s face. He gently cupped her face, his thumb rubbing gently on her cheek, before he lowered his head. His lips carefully brushed hers, and suddenly Jade kissed him back. It was strange, this feeling, but Dan dreamed of this moment for years, and he wasn’t going to let anything ruin it. Not his doubts, his worries, his messed-up life. Nothing.
Once they parted, Jade beamed at him. She searched his face for something, and once she found it her smile grew even larger. She laughed wholeheartedly, and Dan gazed at her with all the affection he could muster. This was so amazing, the last thing he wanted was this all to be a means for escape.
“I’ve waited for this for quite a while,” Jade smiled.
“How long?”
“Longer than you, I’m sure. You know, I broke up with Lucas because of you. It’s just that Lucas and I weren’t much of a couple anymore, and… well, I started having feelings for you.”
“Really?”
Jade nodded. “You never take a hint, do you?”
“Well…”
Jade laughed. “No, you don’t have the guts. I had to do it all, huh?”
His cheeks heated up. “I’m sorry. I should have-”
Jade’s warm hand tilted his head so he looked right at her, her eyes so much darker and deeper than before. “You’re cute when you’re flustered.”
Somehow, they started dancing again. Dan sunk in the sea of his thoughts, until one floated to the surface. “So what are we now? Are we still friends?”
Jade shook her head. “I’m friends with Lucas, Dan. But you… well, if you don’t mind, I’d like to go out on a date.”
“I’d be happy to.”
Jade’s cheeks reddened slightly. “Good. At least I won’t be single anymore.”
Dan smiled at her, and she winked at him. A strange sense of content settled on both of them, and so they continued dancing like that. Slowly, yet as if they had all the time of the world in their fingertips.
And at those moments, Dan could’ve sworn that really was the case.
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slasherscream · 6 years ago
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A/N: i got…  just the absolute sweetest messages from a reader who’s chinese so that’s what this is the result of. we poc deserve hella specific imagines just like anyone else!! smooches @calling-out-maeday. hope you like it!!
     sidney prescott x chinese fem!reader x tatum riley                ft. that’s it …. that’s the whole concept          (and a whole lot of learning to love yourself)
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                                                     ——————– 
The girls stop dead in their tracks the first time they notice you. Or        Tatum stops dead in her tracks. She’s the one who actually sees you first. She throws out her arm to psychically stop Sidney (because the moment requires some drama god dammit). Sidney is about to start glaring when Tatum, in the most love-struck voice Sidney has ever heard from her, goes “who is that?" 
Sidney finds you easily in the crowd. Mostly because Tatum is pointing at you in a way that is both not subtle and also … rude. She has to let it go because … well         Tatum has always had good taste, "No idea. I’ve never … seen them around before.” It took her a second to properly get the words out because you were so pretty. 
You must be new since the town is small enough to have a vague idea of everyone who attends even if you don’t know everyone’s name. Just being frank Tatum knows she’s not stupid enough to have missed going to school with a Chinese girl all these years since you’d have been, quite literally, the only one. Despite this being California, Woodsboro is a little lacking in diversity. 
“I’m gonna go talk to her.” Sidney thinks she just saw Tatum adjust her shirt (aka boobs) a little before she started trying to walk your way. She grabs her best friend by the arm and yanks her back. Tatum starts to pout, “What?”
“Look at her … she seems kinda ….quiet, y'know?” Sidney notices that you’re outside alone during lunch period. They’re only outside cause they were going to go get lunch off campus. Your energy says you’re outside for a very different reason        discomfort. “Shy, maybe." 
"Just means she could use some friends.” Just like that Tatum yanks her arm away from Sidney and hauls ass over to you. Sidney tries to run after her to stop her from being probably far too aggressive with you but doesn’t make it in time (Tatum runs track instead of doing the bare minimum in gym class like some people).
“Hey.” Tatum skids to a stop in front of you and you jerk back at the sight of shoes suddenly in your line of vision. When you look up there she is, grinning down at you. “Newbie? Never seen you around before.”
“Oh uhm ….yup! The new kid. Having a lot of fun.” Tatum laughs at your barely joke (a little too loudly. the way girls that are flirting always do-). 
“Can we join the party?” She’s already sitting down and dragging Sidney (who has the decency to look embarrassed) with her. 
Just like that Tatum is there to stay. And Sidney          despite her initial protests, is too. You’re fun to be around and oh so pretty. They’ve both caught each other zoning out in the middle of you talking (they can practically fucking hear this playing every … single….time) just …focusing on something like how you throw your head back when you laugh or just the way your laugh shapes your mouth. They’re too gay to be trying to function. 
You become a third part of a duo they’d never known was missing a piece. Having you around feels natural. Not having you around ruins their day (Tatum stop being dramatic-). They’re always hovering nearby and you’re always doing the same. You know you spend a lot of time together because they’re no longer Sidney and Tatum         always Tatum, Sidney, and Y/N. It makes them smile. It makes you smile too.
Tatum loves your smile. But you don’t seem to. You’re always covering it when you do it in a way that looks automatic. Like you’ve been doing it your whole life. 
It’s never really bought up until you’re all having a night on the town and Tatum sees a photo-booth that she instantly crams all three of you into. You take the first set of pictures and all hop out to see the results. The girls are wacky and wild in the photos      meanwhile you’re …restrained, to put it lightly. They crawl back in and demand you make the same poses and faces so you can be a matching set. Quietly you say, “That will show too much teeth.” The girls pause in their pushiness sensing that you’re actually quite serious. 
“What do you mean?” Sidney asks. 
“Yeah, what do you mean?” Echoes Tatum.
“My teeth are kinda….big, y'know?” You gesture at your face and purse your lips together as if you want to hide them forever. “They stick out and that will make them….stick out more. That…that pose. And…that face." 
"Your smile is pretty, Y/N! What are you talking about?” The genuine, earnest, confusion on Tatum’s face and in her voice makes you pause. “It’s one of the prettiest smiles I’ve ever seen.”
“Are you serious?” You ask, bewildered. 
“As a fucking heart attack!” and then Sidney smacks her arms. “What? Tell her, her smile is pretty, Sid.”
“It … is a really pretty smile, Y/N. It was one of the first things I noticed about you." 
"Me too." 
"Yeah because my teeth as so-”
“No         because it’s so cute.” And Tatum grabs your face and pulls you so close that you can feel her breath on your lips, “So make the face with me and Sidney. Or don’t - but don’t do it because you don’t think you look pretty doing it. You look pretty doing anything.”
Her gaze could make a nun blush but Sidney clears her throat and breaks the mood of the booth. She’s been on the other side of a look … similar. She knows how it feels. “Let’s take this picture.” You do take the picture and you don’t do the exact same face as them but one … similar. And Tatum keeps the picture in her wallet. You, Sidney, and her. Her favorite people in the world and her. 
Sidney got sick one week straight and you and Tatum did nothing but pout the whole week. “Where’s your better third?” Shouted Randy as the two of you walked by. Tatum flipped him off and you felt yourself get hot with embarrassment. “She’s at home sick, asshole." 
You two bring her notes and homework. Which means       you are bringing her notes and homework and Tatum tags along. She’s not stupid but she doesn’t do her work in-depth enough to be bringing Sidney friendly "catch-up’s” from History class. 
As Sidney’s flipping through one of your notebooks (you’d given her a whole stack) she notices this particular one’s pages are full of Chinese calligraphy. Tatum, who is sitting too close to her on the bed if she doesn’t want to get sick, sees and starts to ooh and ahhh. 
“You didn’t tell us you could write in Chinese!" 
"What?” You yelp and immediately go to snatch back the book. Sidney, who cannot read them but loves the way the ink looks on the page, dodges you annoyingly easy for a woman on her deathbed, “Wrong notebook! Give it!”
“In a minute! It’s beautiful. You can write like this?” The transfixed quality in her hoarse voice makes some of the tension leave your body. Not all….but some. 
“Just a little.” Trying to sound modest. Or maybe you sound small….like it’s not something you’re particularity proud of. You should be though. It looks like pure art. Tatum gasps when Sidney turns the page and she finds new characters. She’s now well and truly snuggled up to the other girl (definitely going to get sick). 
“How can you know just a little when these pages are full with like … a lot?” Tatum laughs, putting a finger out to brush along one of the ink strokes. Her tone is soft. “What are you writing in them?" 
"Random things.” You shrug, “ I just…I do it so I don’t forget it. Y'know?" 
"Can you teach us what some of these mean?” You blink at Sidney’s question. She’s looking up at you with wide, eager eyes. Tatum follows her lead.
“Yeah get over here!” You don’t have time to move before Tatum is yanking you in-between the two of them and settling the book in your lap. She points to one of them. You’re trying not to notice how they feel pressed and curled against you. They both snuggle closer. Tatum points with more insistence, “C'mon! What’s it say. It’s pretty!” She’s so pleading you can’t not tell her. They spend the rest of the afternoon curled up listening to you read the characters off the page. 
“You don’t seem to like any of the food they serve?” Sidney asks one day when she notices you pushing the food around your plate. The cafeteria food isn’t great but it’s not bad either. “Why don’t you ever bring anything like Tatum does?”
You look like a deer caught in headlights which makes Sidney and Tatum exchange a knowing glance. You only ever make #That Face when they’ve stumbled on one of your very specific insecurities. Now they’re determined to know what it is.
Sidney places a hand on Tatum’s thigh under the table and squeezes, a silent plea to let her try and find out what the insecurity is. 
Sidney can be subtle. Tatum is loving but  … not subtle. When she can tell something is wrong with someone she cares about she’ll raise absolute hell until the problem is resolved. It’s one of her more endearing traits but it can go  … not in her favor, at times. Sidney senses this is one of those times it could go poorly. 
Tatum, knowing this, deflates a little but gives a small nod that she knows you won’t notice. You’ve already gone back to looking at you cafeteria tray a little miserably. 
“I don’t know…” You say after a long moment of silence. The girls are never quiet for long so you know that they’re actually waiting for an answer. The fact that they’re so focused on you makes you want to crawl out of your own skin with nerves. “Just don’t like it much." 
They analyze the ever loving shit out of your response and the next time they have a sleepover at your house while Tatum distracts you upstairs with an impromptu pillow fight attack Sidney goes downstairs to talk to your Mother. 
"Hey uhm        Mrs. Y/L/N?” she plays nervously with the end of her sleeve, “Can I ask you something about Y/N?" 
Your Mother pats the seat on the couch next to her and Sidney comes to sit. She can see the worry on your Mother’s face and quickly starts to reassure her, "Nothing is wrong! Or at least …. nothing is seriously wrong? I just…. Y/N is kinda…. She can be kinda…A little-” Sidney struggles with the words for a long time before she just settles on the first one that’s most honest, “Insecure? It seems         about a lot of little things.”
Your Mother sighs deeply at the words and closes her eyes. By insecure she knows Sidney is referring to how you feel about your Chinese heritage. You’ve always been that way. The world around you telling you that you and your culture aren’t beautiful and wonderful and you        unfortunately, believing the world. “Ah. Yes, she can be… is this about something specific?”
“She hates the food at lunch. Barely eats it. And I can tell she’s super hungry by the end of the day. And I was just wondering … what her favorite food is?”
“Pork baozi. She’s loved it ever since she was a little girl but she … doesn’t like to eat them much in public.” Sidney starts to frown. Your Mother frowns back. Not at each other but at what they both know is going on.
Sidney clears her throat and adjusts herself to sit up straight, “Can you teach me how to make it? Me and Tatum? Please.”
Your Mother stares at her for a long moment and then she smiles, even reaches out to pat Sidney’s cheek, “You’re sweet girls. Come back tomorrow afternoon. She’s always at the library for hours at that time. I’ll teach you then. Now shoo         back to your sleepover.” Sidney grins all the way upstairs. 
Tatum and Sidney arrive promptly and your Mother puts them to work immediately. While they’re learning they all talk about you. Listening to your Mother talk about you is eye-opening. They realize just how deeply some of your insecurities go and just how much they care about you that afternoon. When they leave it’s to your Mother hugging them goodbye. She can tell how much they care about you. Furthermore she can tell they’re good influences on you. You’ve been smiling more since you’ve met them. 
On the ride back to Tatum’s, where Sidney is going to spend the night, they finally start talking seriously to each other about what’s clearly been going on, “I think I really like Y/N. As in … like-like her.” Tatum goes first, deep breath once and then just dives right in. She’s always been like that. Sidney has always loved that about her, “Maybe even … a little more than that?”
“I uh ….. like-like her too. And maybe …also feel a little more than that?” Sidney admits before she covers her face with a groan, “What are we twelve?”
“Maybe.” Tatum laughs and pokes Sidney in the side. Only putting her hand back on the wheel when Sidney’s commands her to do so. “I’ve always kinda…. like-liked you too, though.”
“Yeah?” Sidney asks a little breathlessly, taking her hands off her face to look at Tatum’s. 
“Yeah.” Tatum nods firmly, “But it was never the right time. But now       ” She trails off with a smile and Sidney knows what she means. 
“Now’s perfect.” Sidney will not hold Tatum’s hand but she does give her a kiss on the cheek (how was that supposed to be less distracting? Tatum wants to know as she tries desperately not to fucking swerve-).
So now they’re a thing. And as they wait for you excitedly outside at lunch where they’ve told you to meet them? They’re hoping you’ll all be a thing soon. 
You know they’re up to something as soon as you see them but they refuse to say anything until you sit down. Once you do Tatum starts to nervously reach into the over-sized bag that she bought to school today for “some” reason. Sidney starts talking, “Y/N        you are amazing. You’re sweet. And funny, and beautiful, and our best friend. And we love you. But-”
“We also might wanna be a little bit more than best friends. Maybe. If you’re up to it.” Tatum finishes, and with that she puts an open container of pork baozi on the table. They wait for your reaction. Or they try. The stunned look on your face makes Tatum start babbling, “Either way we made you lunch. Your Mom taught us. It’s your favorite right? She told us it was but we know how parents are. Who really listens to their kid these day       Ow!” Sidney pinched her thigh to shut her up. The look she gives her is gratitude despite the exclamation of pain. She’d wanted desperately to shut up. 
“You guys didn’t have to do this      ” Your voice is so quiet and small it makes them nervous. 
“We wanted to.” Sidney says firmly. At first she was thinking you hated it but your expression shifted to something a little softer and now she thinks that your reaction is coming form a place of insecurity once again. She wishes she could slap anyone who’d ever made you feel like this. Instead she reaches for your hand. When you let her take it she sighs in relief. Tatum takes your other one. 
“We really wanted to. Just like how we really like you.” Tatum is catching on too now. She goes a step further and leans over the table top to kiss your forehead. You release a shuddering breath that makes her do it again. 
So        together. You’re all together and the girls couldn’t be happier. Insecurities don’t disappear in a day but they try to help as best as they can. You’re worried that one day it will finally be too much but so far every-time you reveal a new insecurity they reveal just how deep their compassion and love for you goes. 
And yes          love. Tatum said it barely a month into the official start of the relationship. She knows herself inside out and knew the moment she loved you for sure. She’d wanted you to know just as quickly.
Sidney is always more reserved and careful. But she follows Tatum’s lead a month later and says it when you’re both alone and you’re allowing her to put eyeliner on you. You’re squirming at how much she’s staring at a part of you that has always made you so insecure in particular. She kisses the corner of your eye when she’s done, then she kisses your lips for good measure, “I love every beautiful part of you. I love you." 
Maybe you cry a little. Maybe she cries with you. Maybe it brings you closer.
Tatum even opens up to you about her own insecurities hoping to make you feel more normal. "I know it’s not the same thing and the reasons are different but        everyone has things they don’t like about themselves. I think my hips are too big, and …that my nose is too pointy … and I’m not a natural blonde. If you couldn’t guess that from my totally brunette family." 
You’re quick to comfort her and tell her how beautiful she is and that’s when she snatches you by the face and forces you to look at her, her expression resembles the cat that caught the canary, "Aha! That’s the exact point. I am beautiful. Just because I found some things not to like about myself doesn’t mean I’m not. The same goes for you, babe. You’re a fucking knockout and everyone can see it but you." 
Maybe that makes you cry too. Maybe. Tatum has got thicker skin than Sidney so maybe it doesn’t make her cry seeing you cry but maybe it makes her hold you a little tighter, determined to make sure no one ever makes you feel this way again. Not even you. 
A random dance is coming up. For what no one knows and no one cares. It’s a chance to buy a new dress and party! What more does a teenager need to know?
You’re all trying to go dress shopping but you can’t find anything you like. You go back to your house feeling put out but are determined to go shopping again tomorrow. You all won’t stop till you find the perfect set of dresses that compliment each other nicely (no clashing, demands Tatum, deadly serious). 
While you’re all hanging out in the living room trying to brainstorm Sidney notices something new about the place. "Hey what’s that?” she points at a picture in a frame hanging on a wall surrounded by other pictures. This one is the most eye-catching though. The biggest and prettiest. 
“That? A picture of my grandma my Mom just found. She finally got around to unpacking some things a relative sent us while we were moving. In a box of junk was this. There’s not many pictures of her so she was super excited.” You’re trying to make yourself sound casual but they can hear that you were just as excited as your Mom at the find. They smile at each other. 
“What’s she wearing?” Tatum asks.
“Oh that’s a Hanfu. She really loved it apparently. Was her favorite thing to wear. It's        kinda pretty, huh? I could never wear something like it though.” Sidney and Tatum share another look. You could absolutely wear something like that. And furthermore you will. 
Once again they talk to your mother, “Oh she’d never go for it.” She says right off the bat, “you girls know that.”
“She’s a lot more confident!” Tatum disagrees politely which your Mother can agree on but you’re not that confident. “Maybe this is one of those … one of those one last push things? Like when you push a baby bird out the nest and it’s the one you maybe didn’t think was gonna fly but it surprises everyone cause it does.”
The optimism in Tatum’s voice makes your Mother smile at her fondly, even reach for the girl’s hand to give it a comforting squeeze, “You have done a lot for her these past few months. But this is just something she won’t do. I’m sure of it. She would feel too out of place. Too embarrassed." 
"What if we did it with her?” Sidney asks suddenly, interrupting, which she never does to an adult. It makes your Mother pause and look at the two critically. “I know it’s kind of weird for us to wear them because …you know…but if it got her to do it would it be      okay?”
“I think…. I think that might work.” Your Mother finally says after a long moment of thinking. Then she nods to herself once, “Okay girls. Into the car. It’s time we go shopping." 
The day of the dance comes around and the girls had told you to not worry about your dress because they’ve got one for you but it’s a surprise. You’re already nervous. To that Tatum puts a hand on her hip and scoffs, "No offense but I have more fashion sense in one finger than either of you has in your whole bodies. I’d never let my girlfriends walk into a dance not looking amazing.” She was interrupted by a brief, offended “hey!” from Sidney which she steamrolled over easily. You’d conceded the point and allowed them to keep their little surprise for you. They’d also insisted you not lift a finger to get ready. That they were going to do all that for you. 
“You’re our princess and we’re gonna make you feel that way!” Tatum had rubbed her nose against yours gently all while holding Sidney’s hand and giving it a squeeze (she knows the other girl is getting nervous). 
When they arrive all their makeup is done and so is their hair but they’re in simple jeans and t-shirts. They get to work quickly on you. You feel absolutely pampered. They paint your nails. Give you a facial. The whole tender loving care package. Tatum even surprises you with some make-up foundation included that matches your darker skin-tone perfectly. And a blush that compliments you perfectly, just to sweeten the deal. When you ask her about it she scoffs, “I spend all day looking at you, babe. I remember everything about you." 
When it looks like you might cry she orders you to close your eyes quickly and hold your breath. Cold spray hits your face, "If you want to cry you can do it in five minutes when that setting spray dries.” It makes you laugh so hard you couldn’t possibly cry. 
Once Sidney does your hair they step back and look at you, grinning from ear to ear, “You look beautiful.” Sidney says softly. 
“But she always looks beautiful so what’s new.” Tatum playfully knocks you on your chin. “Okay we gotta go get your dress. Don’t peak at yourself in the mirror though. Okay? You gotta wait to see the whole finished product.” For good measure she covers the mirror on their way out and gives you the “watching you” gesture that you know she means. 
It takes them so long to come back you both get tempted to peak and tempted to go find them. You start to do the first one, pulling at the towel on the mirror. Tatum of course comes back at that very moment, “Hey! What did I tell you?!” You whip around ready to apologize sheepishly but stop dead in your tracks.
There stands Sidney and Tatum. Behind them stands your Mother, a hand on each girl’s shoulder. They’re both wearing Hanfu dresses and in their hands they’re carrying a matching one for you. Silence in the room, “They knew you wouldn’t wear it on your own. So instead you’ll all go as a matching set.” She sounds as nervous as the girl’s look.
You start crying and Tatum mutters that she’s glad she put that setting spray on you. Sidney elbows her before she rushes over to hug you. Twenty minutes of reassurances and cooing and then you’re in the dress. Then the towel comes off the mirror. You look….. well, you look, “It’s beautiful.” You gasp and touch the sleeves looking mesmerized. Your Mother shakes her head and comes up behind you to adjust something, “No honey      that’s all you. You look beautiful.
You take pictures on the staircase as if this is prom. As important as prom. In some ways it is. It’s super important. More important than anything you’ve ever done before. Your Mother hugs you crying before you go, kisses your cheek and says she’s proud of you. Then she’s hugging your girlfriends tightly whispering something to them that makes them look like they’ll start crying too. Then you all say goodbye (Tatum teasingly telling your Mother not to wait up and receiving a swat along with a string of Chinese she can’t understand but she figures she can’t be too mad since the older woman is laughing and smiling-).
You’re nervous all the way to the school even though the girls are trying to distract you. "It will be fine.” Says Tatum, reaching to hold your hand from the backseat. “You look incredible.” Says Sidney, who is a safe driver and refuses to take her hands off the wheel but the fond look she shoots you might as well be a kiss.
When you get to school there’s no more time to hesitate. Tatum doesn’t let you. She steps out the car and opens your door for you, taking your hand to help you out. You feel dizzy with nerves. Sidney takes your other hand and if you’re leaning on them both as you walk into the school they don’t say anything. Just squeeze your hand tightly.
Entering the gym feels like entering another world. It’s not that incredibly well decorated but the music is loud and the lightning is nice. But mostly the change in the world is coming from inside. You’re nervous but … suddenly? A good nervous. When you look down you can see the end of the dress. The trailing sleeves. And you think to yourself        it’s beautiful. I’m beautiful.
The girls are just proud they’ve gotten you in the gym. They’re more than ready to find a table as far from the center of the room as possible and sit there the whole damn night. Or even just ten minutes. They’re proud of you. Really proud of you. You shock them by shaking your head and smiling. No, not smiling      you’re grinning! It’s a grin that shows off your front teeth you never used to like (memory of a photo booth that Tatum had first told you, you were pretty in). A grin that lights up your eyes, tear-dropped curved and pretty (memory of Sidney putting eyeliner to them and then leaving soft kisses behind). 
“I love you guys. Let's       let’s dance!” You shout over the music and they blink in surprise for a moment and you laugh. They don’t hesitate for long before dragging you to the middle of the floor. You can feel people staring but Tatum and Sidney are so close that soon a teacher is going to have to come and separate you guys.
But for now they’ve each got a hand on your hips and you can hear that, yes some people are talking. And yes they’re noticing you. But what they’re saying is       “They all look so pretty!” and “Yeah but check out that one girl in the middle.” “That’s Y/N, right?” “She looks so good! Beautiful! She’d always seemed so shy!” “Guess not anymore. Dating Tatum will do that to any girl      Look at that smile-" 
And you keep smiling. And you keep dancing. And your girlfriends think you look beautiful. But more importantly? You think you look beautiful. 
                                                     ——————–
#sidney prescott x reader x tatum riley#sidney prescott x reader#tatum riley x reader#final girl x reader#slasher x reader#chinese!reader#slasher imagines#this is the GREATEST thing i've ever written i'm smiling#i love how specific it is!!! i’m DEAD serious rn. i see suuuuuper specific asks sent to blogs for y’know non readers of color#and i LOVE that i got to do something like that for a reader who is a poc#BITCH MY SKIN IS CLEAR AND MY CROPS ARE THRIVING AND -#i'm having so much FUN what the FUCK#in every fucking poc ask for the scream teens#i am legally required to point out the fact that i lived in cali for a whole fucking year and#there are so many poc of EVERY kind and yet...the movie?? whiter than white#if i don't bring it up i get sniped by god himself#this has a lot of personal things involved including the asking that sidney and tatum wear the hanfu so i included them#they are only wearing it because they wanted their s/o to be able to without feeling insecure....Not to be annoying quirky western yt girls#doing a fashion trend and i hope that is VERY clear in the text#as in ...normally western people (including other poc) should not wear this bc chinese people themselves#might experience mockery/critique for wearing the same thing#it's just like how no one else should be doing dreads buy black people from my understanding so ...y'know don't#they are just being supportive girlfriends in the context of this story ...disclaimer over#hope all in all this is respectful and fun because i want to do really in depth shit like this for readers of color#anyway tatum is more talented than any bitch working at sephora and these be the FACTS
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shes-soparticular · 6 years ago
Text
Slow Burn (Part V)
(Part I) (Part II) (Part III) (Part IV) (Masterlist)
A/N: Sorry this took so long! But it’s finally here and I hope you guys enjoy! As always, feedback of any kind is INCREDIBLY appreciated. Furthermore, I’m always accepting blurbs/requests. I’ve also been horrible about starting a tag list, so if you’d like to be added, please let me know! 
Words: 4723
I heard there was someone but I know he don't deserve you If you were mine I'd never let anyone hurt you I wanna dry those tears, kiss those lips It's all that I've been thinking about 
Instinctively, Shawn’s hand moves to graze the small of her back, brushing over the warm skin peeking out at the top of her jeans. The same skin he’d been pressed to only hours before, when his lips had brushed the back of her shoulder, just above the healing scar tissue of the tattoo he’d helped place there. But they’ve left the safety and possibility that Kraków had bestowed upon them and now? Now reality was shoving them apart again. A stark reminder that what felt so natural, so inevitable, wasn’t nearly as easy as it seemed between hotel sheets.
He doesn’t even realize that he’s squaring his shoulders, ready to step in front of Alex to protect her from the man walking towards them at a clip. However, hearing Alex’s voice acknowledging this stranger, calling him Ethan, causes his stomach to sink as low as it’s ever been. This guy isn’t a stranger at all, in fact, he arguably knows Alex better than Shawn does. Maybe better than anyone. That thought alone brings a tightness to his chest that he can’t ignore. Reluctantly, he takes a step backward, his hand leaving her body as she’s engulfed in the arms of someone else.
              On first glance, Ethan is every part the tragic fuckboy that Alex had unwittingly described. Every aspect of him seems a little forced, as though he’s perpetually trying too hard. From the comb over fade to the meticulously groomed beard, or the fact that he’s dressed like an urban lumberjack complete with timberlands and jeans that were carefully ripped up and distressed before they ever left the store, everything about him screams Small Dick Energy. Shawn knows that maybe that’s just the jealousy speaking as it sears through him, but the way Ethan unabashedly grabs a handful of Alex’s ass despite being surrounded by a group of her figurative colleagues? The way he only chuckles when she uncomfortably swats his hand away? It makes Shawn clench his fist without hesitation.
              “Hey Sweetness.” Even his voice has a smarmy quality to it, a frat-boy cockiness that someone several years removed from college should be embarrassed to exemplify. He can see Alex flinch at the endearment, her tension only becoming more pronounced as Ethan wraps one arm around her waist, tugging her into him a tad too roughly. Her hands brace against the front of his shirt, making it all too obvious that she isn’t ready to welcome him with open arms. Evidently, it goes unnoticed by Ethan, as he only tightens his grip around her, face nuzzling into the crook of her neck and placing a lingering kiss under her ear. Shawn knows he should walk away. At the very least, he needs to stop fucking staring. Yet, somehow, he’s frozen in place. There’s a look of possession in Ethan’s eyes as they sweep over Alex, not the adoration that Shawn can never manage to hide. “I wanted to see you.”
He can only see the back of Alex’s head as she tries to inch backwards out of Ethan’s grasp. “You know I’m only here for one night, right? We leave for Glasgow tomorrow morning…” Her voice stammers a bit, and once more, even though she’s having this exchange with her long-term boyfriend, it takes everything in Shawn’s power not to tell the guy to take a hike. At some point over those growingly fervent weeks, he’d become fluent in Alex’s body language. As much as he doesn’t want her to experience even a second of discomfort, it eases the pressure in his chest to see that she isn’t thrilled with this reunion.
Ethan doesn’t appear the least bit surprised nor phased by her uneasiness, his hands at her waist clearly not letting her back away much further. “Not a problem. Remember the summer program I did out here? I still have buddies in the city. I’m going to hang with them for a few days. But you’re sure you can’t spend a couple extra nights?” Not wanting to make it anymore obvious that he’s listening to their conversation, Shawn absent mindedly scrolls through his phone, but his attention never wavers from eavesdropping.
“No, Ethan,” Alex’s voice is hushed as she shrugs herself out of his hands, pushing him a few feet further from the rest of the group. There’s a red flush starting to creep over her cheeks and Shawn recognizes it instantly as embarrassment. It’s not the rosy glow her skin turns when she’s laughing at one of his jokes or wrestling him over the last Heineken. Nor is it the crimson she turned when Brian and Connor teased her about leaving his room that morning in Shawn’s shirt, a “wouldn’t you like to know” grin plastered on her face despite the heat spreading across her features.  “I’m working, you know that. I can’t change my schedule. That’s why I told you not to come out this time.” Her final statement is a bit sharper, her eyes narrowing as she rubs at the crease in her forehead.
“Work, huh? That’s not what it’s looked like on your snapchat.” Ethan flashes her a surprisingly stern look, suddenly dropping the happy go lucky routine before picking it right back up the second his attention turns over Alex’s shoulder to Shawn. “Seen you on there a few times bro, thanks for watching out for my girl.” Ethan brushes past Alex to clasp Shawn on the arm. The way his hand connects, with muted aggression, tells Shawn everything he needs to know about the unspoken words Ethan intends to express. “My baby sister loves you by the way, I think she got tickets to your show for her fifteenth birthday this year.” A low blow. It takes all of his will power to not shoot a retort about the way his music makes Alex’s hips roll, the way she smiles with hooded eyes as she sings his words back to him from the side of the stage. This image of her wandering through his head calms him immediately. It couldn’t matter less what this guy thought of him, it mattered what Alex thought of him. Having woken up with her hand wrapped around his that very morning? He’s done questioning whether she returns his feelings. The only question that remains is what she’s going to do about it.
Shawn snaps out of his thoughts, finally addressing Ethan head on. Giving a slight nod, he barely masks the chill in his voice. “Yeah, nice to meet you. Enjoy Vienna, man.” He only allows his eyes to lock on Alex’s for a moment as he steps around them on his way to the elevator, just long enough to see the loaded apology being sent his way. He doesn’t slow his pace until he makes it to his hotel room, alone this time, knowing full well he won’t be waking up there intertwined with her. He refuses to let his thoughts drift to the fact that there will be someone else waking up with her the next morning, but the thought doesn’t leave the recesses of his mind the rest of the day.
  Shortly after the Meet & Greet has wrapped up that his phone vibrates with the first sign of her.  I’m so sorry, I didn’t know he was going to pull this. It’s unprofessional and I feel like an idiot. I have to go with him to meet up with his friends tonight, so I’m going to miss the show. But I really want to see you guys afterwards? Text me when you head out after the show? He rereads her text a few times, stomach sinking for the second time that day as he realizes this is the first show she won’t be at. If there was any other reason behind it, he’d be unbothered. He couldn’t imagine anyone truly wanting to watch him sing the same songs night after night the way that she did, but the knowledge that he wouldn’t be able to pick her out in the crowd because she was playing dutiful girlfriend for another guy? It ripped him apart in a way he never would have expected. He takes his time to send her a response, trying to be as measured as possible. Not your fault, don’t be sorry. I think I’m going to head back to the hotel after the show but I’ll let you know if I end up going out.
He’s resolute until Alessia’s set has reached her final song that he oh so stupidly decides to check Instagram. There haven’t been any updates from Alex since the boomerang she posted of chocolate fondue in Zürich, a hand with a telltale elephant tattoo trying to snatch her fork away. In a masochistic move, he decides to check Ethan’s account. Sure enough, there’s a photo of he and Alex, his arms wrapped around her with a defensive tightness. She’s subtly leaning away from him, the smile on her face as fake as Shawn’s ever seen. It’s a frozen, tight lipped Posh Beckham-esque non-smile that he’s never even seen on her before. Nothing like the wide, toothy grins he’d become accustomed to, the ones that reached all the way up to create crinkles in the skin beside her eyes. It’s precisely in that moment he decides he most definitely will find her that night, even if it’s a bad idea, even if he might have to watch Ethan’s grimy hands roam her body in person. The fact is they crossed a line in Kraków, into this new territory beyond denying the inevitable. So if she wanted him to be there that night? He’d be there. Furthermore, it didn’t help that there was a sneaking suspicion taking root inside him that she needed him there nearly as much as he need her to.
 He rushes through the post-concert formalities and is unleashed on to the Viennese streets headed straight for the pub Alex promised to be waiting. Her texts had become increasingly hard to decipher as the night went on, but she’d shared her location which was enough to lead the way. Brian, Connor, and a few of the other younger crew members trail behind him, reveling in their last night in mainland Europe, already buzzed off of backstage vodka sodas and the cursory fireball shots. They don’t quite keep up with the pace he’s set, but even with his quick stride his long legs aren’t carrying him fast enough for his liking. All he can think about is that every second he’s not in that room could be a second that Ethan talks her into reconciling. A second where he reminds her why they’ve made it that long all while quelling her homesickness. Reminding her of the history they shared, the one thing Shawn undoubtedly can’t compete with. He ignores Brian’s call for him to slow down, only speeding up as he sees the bar’s neon light growing closer. The bar is dark and divey, a bit worn and rough around the edges compared to the newer clubs he’s accustomed to in Toronto. There’s a decent sized crowd and as he studies the sea of people, he doesn’t catch a single glimpse of Alex. In fact, it’s Ethan he notices first, bellied up to the bar, flanked by a few guys that from outer appearances mirror his fuckboy persona. Actually, Shawn hears them before he sees them, they’re easily the loudest group in the bar, carrying on and roughhousing over a growing number of empty shot glasses. Briefly, he wonders if Alex ended up leaving, she’s certainly nowhere close to Ethan’s side. That should be somewhat of a relief, but instead it leaves his stomach in knots. Amidst talking himself out of that foreboding feeling, he finally spots her head of hair leaned up next to the wall of a far booth at the back of the room. If he’d been walking fast before, he’s at a full-on sprint now, heart pounding in his chest as he makes his way to slide into the leather lined booth next to her.
“Alex? Are you alright?” He’s endlessly relieved when her eyes flutter open, though they’re glazed over in a way that doesn’t completely curb his panic. Moving his hand to her forehead to brush her hair out of her face, he’s greeted with a blitzed smile.
“Shawn, you came,” She sighs, her voice groggy under the weight of alcohol. He’s never seen her this drunk. Granted, he’s never seen her more than tipsy. Alex typically stays within her limits, at least since he’s known her. But now, her skin pale yet hot to the touch, her voice slurred under her breath, her eyes barely managing to stay open…it scares the hell out of him.
“Do you want to head back to the hotel? You’re not looking too hot, honey.” He presses his hands, still cool from the night air, onto her burning cheeks to help sooth her. A soft hum escapes her at the feeling and her eyes fall closed again.
“Will you walk me? Ethan doesn’t want to leave yet.” Just hearing those words fall from her lips makes his blood boil. Did this guy have any redeeming qualities? What had Alex ever seen in him? These questions burn holes through his mind but right now, his only concern is getting her out of there.
“Of course, let’s get you home.” Her body is so limp and pliable that it’s easy for him to extricate her from the booth, arm wrapping around her waist to pull her up to a standing position. He doesn’t see her jacket anywhere in sight, so he’s quick to shrug his off and help her into it, guiding her arms into the sleeves as if made of glass. All the while, her eyes meet his with an adoring gaze, her body melting into his the second he starts walking her towards the door. As they approach Ethan and his cohorts, Shawn can’t decide whether it’s worth it to acknowledge him at all. Would he even notice Alex was gone? Would he care? Before he can firmly decide what to say, one of the other guys notices them and points Ethan’s attention their way. Somehow, even at the sight of his unwell girlfriend tucked under the arm of another guy, there’s still a smug grin on his face.
“Whoa, where you headed, Mr. Steal Your Girl?” Ethan’s voice is slick with belligerence. Whether it’s liquor fueled or his natural state of douchery, Shawn can’t be sure. He’d bet money on the latter, though.
“Dude, she’s not having a good time, just look at her...” Protectively, he tightens his arm around Alex. As much as he wishes she had the type of boyfriend ready and willing to take her home, to care for her the way she deserved, there’s no chance in hell he’s letting Ethan leave with her even if the guy suddenly decided to step up to the plate. “I’m going to take her back to the hotel since it seems like you can’t be bothered to. Have a good one.” Of course Ethan scoffs, hostility flashing in his eyes. For a moment, it seems like a confrontation is imminent but after a tense silence, Ethan turns back towards the bar, rejoining his friends for what looks like another round of shots. “Asshole.” Is all that Shawn manages under his breath, turning his effort and attention back to Alex.
Her legs are wobbly at best and he’s already doing most of the work to hold her up, so by the time they get to the door he gives up and scoops her into his arms. Passing Brian and the rest of the group, he throws a quick nod of acknowledgement and a short explanation that he’s taking her home.
“Shit, do you want us to come too?” His best friend looks between Shawn and Alex’s face already buried into his shirt, sincere concern in his voice. Brian’s already starting to scan the bar for the rest of their friends, ready to usher everyone out, but Shawn stops him short.
“No, you guys stay, I’ve got her. I’ll text you when we get back.” The last thing he wants is for there to be a crowd around Alex in this state, but he knows he can call on any of them if need be.
“Okay, seriously, let me know if you need anything.” It’s not an exaggeration to say that they’ve all become a family, the way they’ve all bonded over the past weeks, and he knows that Brian and the others are nearly as concerned as he is. The same way Alex was the first one to pull together an icepack for Brian’s sprained ankle or how she’d stayed up all night talking with Alessia one particularly emotional day. There truly wasn’t a better feeling than knowing you were surrounded by genuine people that cared for one another, even this soon after meeting. Throwing one final nod in Brian’s direction, he makes his way back out into the night with her secure in his arms. Luckily, the hotel isn’t far, and while it’s the least of his concern, it’s best that Shawn Mendes isn’t photographed carrying a visibly drunk woman back to his hotel. He doesn’t realize he’s been holding his breath until he’s stepped into the safety of the elevator, her arms wrapping around his neck as she squints under the shock of the fluorescent lights. Considering she doesn’t have a purse with her, it means she won’t have her room key either, so he heads straight for his. “Alright honey, we’re here, you think you can stand for me for a second?” He hates to put her down, even for a second, but there’s no other way for him to get the door open. She gives him a weak nod but peels her arms from around his neck as he carefully sets her on her feet. He keeps his arm around her waist while searching his pockets for the key card with his free hand, finding it after a couple of wrong guesses. When they finally enter his room, he’s prepared to pick her up again, put her to bed, but as soon as the door comes to close behind them, she’s already making a mad dash for the bathroom. The sound of her retching fills the room before he can follow her, but he’s there, collecting her hair with one hand and rubbing her back with the other by the time she finishes. Once she has it all out, she collapses against the tile of the bathroom wall, tears threatening to spill from the corners of her eyes. At first he’s not sure whether it’s just a result of her having gotten sick or if it’s coming from a deeper place.
“Hey, you okay?” He moves to sit next to her on the bathroom floor, ready with a hotel sized bottle of complimentary mouthwash and a cup of water. Unscrewing the mouthwash, he hands that to her first, waiting until she’s done to reach up and push the sweaty hair off of her forehead. “What’s with the tears?” One has finally started a path down her cheek, but he swipes it away with his thumb just before it reaches the corner of her lips. He knows that he’s probably not supposed to act this way with her, to be this intimate, but it’s all out of reflex at this point. He can’t bear to watch this girl cry, this girl he’s falling in love with, and not do everything in his power to make it better.
“I just. God. I feel so fucking stupid right now.” It’s clear that she’s refusing to look up at him, her eyes cast on her knees instead, brought up tight to her chest. “I’m a mess.” The fact that a great deal of alcohol has left her stomach seems to be bringing her somewhat out of the fog. “You shouldn’t have to deal with me like this.” Even though her face is tilted downward, he can see how hard she’s chewing at her lip. How desperately she means what she’s saying.
“Come here.” Pulling her under his arm and bringing her head to his chest, he searches for the words to tell her that she’s so far from being a mess. That he’d walk through hell to spare her an ounce of pain. That he might just be in love with her. But the reality of the matter is he can’t say those things. Not yet. Not tonight. No matter how badly it’s all threatening to spill out of him. “Everything is okay, you’re okay.” Despite the words he can’t say, he presses his lips to her forehead, hoping that can convince her that he truly believes those things. They spend quite some time together on the bathroom floor, enveloped in silence and an indescribable comfort in one another.
  He’s barely half asleep when there’s a knock at the door, the sky outside lightening as dawn approaches. It has to be after 5am but there’s no way it’s early enough to be housekeeping and he can’t think of any reason it’d be anyone else from the crew, so his first inclination is to ignore it and attempt real sleep before it’s time to leave for Glasgow. When a second knock rings out, his eyes meet Alex’s form across the room. She’s snuggled into the sheets of his bed, a soft drunken snore drifting from her and bringing him instant reassurance. He’d opted for the couch, as much as he wanted to spend a second night in a row curled up with her. When the third knock causes her to shift in her sleep, rolling on her side in the king-sized bed that looks so sprawling with only her body to fill it, he’s finally motivated to get up and get rid of whoever feels the need to give them a 5am wake-up call. His hand is on the door knob when he hears the voice behind the door.
“Come on Lexie, baby, let’s go.” Ethan. Of course. Who else would be roaming the halls that early in the morning, or most likely in his case, that late at night? Steeling his nerves, Shawn reluctantly opens the door. For two reasons, one, he knows it’s unlikely that Ethan’s going to leave. Two, from the sounds of it, he’s not angry. There’s almost a shade of pleading in the guy’s voice. Granted, that softness is directed completely at Alex who is very much asleep in another man’s bed, however innocent it may be. Purposefully, Shawn leans into the door frame as soon as he swings it open, covering Alex from view.
“Hey man, she’s sleeping it off, she’s fine.” Shawn cuts straight to the chase, there’s truly no need for small talk. When he stops there, Ethan appears to be ready to accept that answer, ready to retreat. But for some unknown reason, whether it’s a flex or a barb, Shawn feels the need to add one final comment. “I’ve got her.” So…definitely NOT the right thing to say. Not to a guy like Ethan that’s already hanging on to this girl by a thread.
“Oh, you’ve got her?” Ethan stops in his tracks, eyebrows nearly shooting off of his forehead. “You know, I’ve tried to be cool about this because I get that she essentially works for you. But you need to back off. She’s just giving you a pass because you’re some hotshot teen idol or whatever.” It’s abundantly clear that he has a growing complex about Alex being away. Not simply about her being away, but about the way her eyes are lit up in every social media post. The video of her dancing her ass off in Germany to “American Girl”, shouting at everyone that it isn’t fair to keep requesting the one song they know makes her lose her shit? It’s Shawn’s laughter in the background, his phone capturing her singing “take it easy baby, make it last all night” at the top of her lungs. The photo of her cheers-ing pastéis de nata with Connor in Lisbon with the afternoon sun blanketing her shoulders? He’d stolen a bite of hers seconds after that photo was taken, her admonishing him and his large mouth for taking more than his fair share. In nearly every memory she’d shared via social media had a backstory that included him in one way or another. The story of them falling hopelessly. Could he really blame Ethan for putting up a fight? He couldn’t imagine letting Alex slip through his fingers, to watch her fall in love with someone else.
And that’s exactly why he lies. Boldly. Quickly. “We’re just friends, you can relax.” Those words couldn’t be further from the truth. Just because they hadn’t completely crossed the line physically, just because they hadn’t named their tension out loud, didn’t mean that they weren’t already acting on these feelings. Inviting them in rather than pushing them away.
“Yeah, I’ll relax when you stop trying to fuck my girlfriend.”
“Frankly? I’m surprised you’re concerned. You show up to see her for one night and leave her wasted and practically passed out in the back of the bar?” At this point, Shawn’s done being cordial. This is truly Alex’s argument to have and in no way is it his place to step in and comment on her relationship. But after brushing those tears from her cheeks? That look of pain, of guilt, of uncertainty that was weighing down on her so heavily? He knew he was powerless when it came to the decision she would make next, how she would choose between the two of them. But that didn’t stop him from telling Ethan what he really thought. “If you lose her, you’ll only have yourself to blame. Maybe spend less time worrying about my intentions and a little more worrying about your own.” With that, he’s ready to shut the door and leave Ethan to his devices. Although, he’s not surprised that Ethan’s fragile ego needs the last word.
“Just because all of these people care who you are doesn’t mean that I do. Start minding your own business and give Alex some space, or we’re going to have a problem. Here’s her room key, make sure she gets it when she wakes up.” After shoving the key card at Shawn, Ethan starts to back off in the direction of the elevators, but stops short. “You think you know her so well? You don’t know the first thing.”
“Seems like I could say the same to you.” Alex and Ethan had history, there were experiences and memories they shared that Shawn could never replace or recreate. But if the last couple of months are any indication of where they’re headed? Of all they have yet to share? The jealousy for her history with anyone else pales in comparison to his anticipation for what’s to come.
Closing the door softly behind him and tossing the key card next to the dress Alex had discarded in favor of his clothes, he lets his eyes sweep over her once more. Everything he’s ever learned, every piece of advice he’s ever been given, has revolved around not chasing after someone that belongs to another. With everything he has to consider, his career, his reputation, his fucking heart, he knows he should walk away before he gets any deeper. Before it’s too late to turn back. But as his eyes sweep over her once more, they meet hers as she blinks away sleep. It’s clear she’s drinking him in too, his form bathed in the streetlight still illuminated outside. Her lips part into a tiny smile, not fully awake yet, just appreciating the man in front of her. As if there aren’t any risks, as if there’s nothing to lose. As if they’re the last two people in the world and nothing else matters. It’s then and there that he fully realizes – it’s already too late. It’s been too late since that first night in Amsterdam. Suddenly, there’s a line from a song she’d often played that ehoes through his head. Don’t get caught up in caution when love exists.
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accio-fan-fiction · 6 years ago
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A/N- okay so part one is finally here yay, please, please, please, let me know what you think guys
Summary - You and James Buchanan love each other, but you and Bucky Barnes, the King of Brooklyn, would see each other dead in a heartbeat. How long before you can’t keep your other life a secret? How long before you realise the one person you care about is also the person you hate more than anyone? How much are you willing to forgive?
PART ONE
Your phone buzzed on the table next to you. You were reluctant but knew that missing a single text could mean life and death, so you moved out from under the arms of the man in the bed next to you. James Buchanan really was special. He just smiled at you as you checked your phone. He was in such a good mood this morning, more so than usual, not that you were complaining.
Meet us at the warehouse.
Nebula
“Sorry babe, I have to go,” You told James, to which he only pouted, clearly desperate for you to stay with him.
“Can you stay five more minutes?” He asked, hope lighting up in his eyes. You smiled at him and almost relented, leaning back down slowly into his arms. Then your phone buzzed again. You sat up straight, ensuring James couldn’t read the screen, as you always did.
S.O.S!
Nebula
“No, sorry. I’ll make it up to you though, I promise,” You leaned down and kissed him before getting ready in record time and sprinting out to your car.  You made sure James didn’t see you take your makeup off. You didn’t want him to see the scar down your face, you were quite content with him not knowing who you really were right now.
You got to the warehouse as quickly as possible and burst through the door to the small room you knew your girls would be in. You were soon met with the overwhelming smell of blood and saw Clint lying on a table, barely conscious.  
“What the fuck happened to him?” You demanded.  You were by his side now, inspecting the damage. He had been shot just below his left ribs. He was losing a lot of blood and needed help soon, otherwise, he was going to die. You couldn’t lose another person.
“It was one of Barnes’ men. There was three of them, they saw Clint on his own and jumped him,” Wanda explained to you, “They saw us coming and shot at us. One of the bullets got Clint.” She was putting as much pressure as possible on the bullet wound as physically possible.
“Where?” You demanded. You needed to know whose ground this happened on, you needed to know if you had any right to start something with Barnes.
“Ridgewood,” Clint choked out from his position on the table.
Bastard. Barnes must have known what he had just done. Ridgewood was in Queens, not Brooklyn and that bastard knew it. If he ordered the hit (which he likely did as his men wouldn’t do anything he didn’t sign off on) then he was going to pay.
But you had to think of Clint right now though.
“Okay, Nebula get as much vodka as you can, when you run out, boil some water.” Your mind was in panic mode as you gave out the orders, doing everything you could to help Clint. “Wanda, grab the sewing and the first aid kit; sterilise the needles and the thread from both. Quill, get the pliers… and something to use as a gag.” There wasn’t any time to phone Helen Cho, who would usually be your doctor, now you needed to be quick, not really professional.
Everyone ran to work and within seconds, all your orders had been completed.  Wanda sat Clint up and gave him a few sips of the vodka, it would thin his blood but also act as a painkiller, which he would desperately need. Quill then stuffed an old bit of cloth into his mouth so he wouldn’t be able to scream too loudly. Nebula and Wanda took to holding him down. Maybe it wasn’t needed as Clint was practically out cold, but, better safe than sorry.
You grabbed the pliers and stuck them into the gunshot wound, digging around for longer than you had hoped would be necessary, and eventually pulled out one whole bullet. You were beyond grateful that it hadn’t shattered.
An hour later you had finally finished stitching Clint up properly. He was going to be out of use for a while. Though you were grateful he’d be okay, you were pissed that Barnes had gotten so close to taking out one of your own. You needed a plan to get back at him. You and your people would stay here the whole month if you had to.  Wanda stayed with Clint while the rest of you got to work.
You told everyone to get their arrangements ready for the long road ahead. You quickly realised though that meant you had to reschedule your own plans.
I’m sorry, I can’t make tonight, raincheck?
Yeah, no problem, you’ll need to make it up to me though doll ;)
James x
Of course, babe x
You didn’t deserve him. James was so innocent. He didn’t deserve to have you destroy that about him. But you couldn’t help yourself. Being with James gave your life a sense of normality and routine, something you had been desperate for since you were a child. You knew it was selfish, but you’d hold off on telling him about your life a little while longer.
“Y/N,” Nebula woke you from your thoughts, “You ready?”
“Yeah,” you walked with her into another room, one where you could figure out your next move.
The room was covered with miscellaneous pieces of paper, all of which were at one point necessary to your business. Every employee was accounted for, every action thought out meticulously, and every mistake punished appropriately.  Everything you ever did was planned out to the last detail.
You were careful, you had to be. The crime in New York was at an all time high and the police were never so diligent in their investigations. They were primarily focused on Pierce in Manhattan right now though, so you refused to give them enough reason to look elsewhere.  The only downside was that everyone else was careful too.
You were on good terms with Thor in the Bronx, and you and Stark in Staten Island mostly ignored each other. But Barnes? ‘The King of Brooklyn’ and you had never seen eye to eye. Well, you had never seen each other face to face. He’d constantly send men into Queens, acting as if he owned the place. The only thing you agreed on was that Highland Park was fair play to both of you, mainly because children played there and you decided that extra bit of space wasn’t worth their lives.
You never spoke to him directly though, or anyone else high up in their ranks. Everyone else, however, the ones who weren’t important or weren’t involved, when asked what you looked like, could only focus on the scar that ran down your face.  It was a type of camouflage. No one cared what the rest of you looked like, they were too enamoured by the scar.
You looked around the pieces of paper attached to the walls of the room. You’d never seen Barnes. Nor did you have a picture of him. All anyone knew about his appearance was that his left arm had been amputated and replaced with a metal prosthetic. That was his camouflage and it became his identity.
“Who exactly was it that shot Clint?” You asked no one in particular.
“We’re pretty sure it was Sam,” replied Quill, while handing you the small file or information you had gathered on him.  You opened it, reminding yourself of his appearance.
“Who else was there?” Sam was one of Bucky’s right-hand men and wouldn’t be anywhere alone.
“Steve,” Quill followed.
“And nobody followed them?” Your tone was steady, which you knew scared them more.
“We were more focused on keeping Clint alive,” Nebula said. You just glared at her as you stuck Sam and Steve’s photos on a map over Ridgewood.  
“Anyone know why they were so far from Brooklyn?” You changed the subject.
“No, but we think it has to do with the club we just opened,” Nebula answered.
“It’s only a block away from where Clint got shot,” you thought out loud.
“And Barnes is probably pissed that we hired some of the suppliers he had lined up.”
Probably? No, he definitely was, that was the point of hiring them.  Barnes had been pushing his fucking luck with the business he was conducting in Highland Park. You needed to let him know he was on thin ice.  Besides, a good quality drink was hard to find right now, so when someone was reliable and presented a decent product, they deserved better pay than what Barnes was giving them anyway.
“So what do we do?” You were looking for suggestions, although you didn’t need any.
“I know that look, you already know what you’re going to do,” Nebula smirked at you.
“Want to let us in on it boss?” Quill asked, knowing the routine. You simply smiled in response;
“We’ve got work to do.”
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