#idk why I couldn’t find it out myself but I have tried google multiple times over the weekend now and nada

[purrgilinhyperspace]

Question:

When I queue something

does the OP get notified right when I hit «queue» or when the post actually get posted on my blog, wich could be several days/weeks later?

When can they see the tags/additions?

Couldn’t find any answer to this anywhere so here I am asking.

[robobrainmurdermysterytheatre]

Scrolling the ol’ dash today I saw at least a couple of reblogs about organizing writing IDK if it was from the same person or if several people are struggling with this because IT IS A STRUGGLE. I started out my now 85k word fanfic (which is still a rough draft still and honestly probably will be for all time and eternity but it’s fun to write) in Google Docs. When I got to about 30-40k-ish words I was struggling because I write things out of order. I jump into the middle of the meaty action and messy feelings and figure out the rest. Or I’m working on an earlier chunk of the story and I’m like - I can fit in a callback to this in this other scene in the future, let’s go back and add that. Since its a Fallout 76 fanfic sometimes I’m playing the game and end up a place or do a quest and I go “Fuck! I know what my story needs now! Right in the middle of these two scenes I’ve already written!”

So, belated announcement, I got a new job a little while ago and I work with authors. Big career change to go from school custodian to what I’m doing now, lol. I love it and I’m happy. ANYWAY, one of my clients mentioned Scrivener. So I asked @thuumwrestler​, who has an actual whole college degree and a novel in progress and is a real writer, what they thought about Scrivener. They said the learning curve for it wasn’t worth it and in my research I found out you have to pay money for it. Pfft.

So I googled free alternatives to Scrivener because *all* I wanted to do was to be able to divide up the story so I can easily find the different sections of it and add, move, do whatever to those different chunks easily. I decided to try SmartEdit Writer as a starting point to compare the different programs I found and got it right on the first try!

LOOK AT THIS:

This is only like a third of the story, if that, hence why I really needed this lol.

So, the way it’s intended to be used is each folder is a chapter and each page is a scene. I don’t have chapters, just vague chunks. My “scenes” are sometimes like 1-5 page scenes, but I have at least 1 that’s a 10k word chunk probably closer to a chapter because I started something and couldn’t stop for 3 days. You can leave notes like you see above - I have a note for “Treehouse Town” because I needed to remind myself I need to actually write that part because I skipped it over to get to the next part.

When you’re writing in it, it works just like any word processor. Another cool feature is you can open multiple scenes in tabs and flip between them:

VERY helpful when I’m referencing something from another scene.

There’s WAY more functionality to it than what I use it for. You can keep track of research and notes in it’s own separate little window.

It’s not a resource hog on your computer. I tried to put the 40k word version of my fic into LibreOffice and froze my poor lightweight little laptop. I never have a problem loading the story up fast at 80k words in this. It’s also software on my computer, not in the cloud like Google Docs so I can take my laptop wherever and write, if I have internet problems, I can still write.

When you’re done (or to create a backup) you can export the whole thing as one file!

I also got @thuumwrestler​ to use it and they approve!

I wish I was getting paid to plug this but I am just really delighted and wanted to share how helpful it was to me in case other people are struggling!

You can check it out here: https://www.smart-edit.com/Writer/

[cryonme]

Sunflower

word count- 1.4k

tw- alcohol, weed, cursing? idk but probably, mentions of a bad relationship, some tears, Luke been cute. lmk if I missed anything.

mentions- luke, sage, calum, fiona, sage’s ex boyfriend

a/n- hellOOO!!!! SOO, this is the first part in the Luke + Sage series, but the second in the crazy eights. The beginning of Luke and sage!! I love these two so much and I’m so excited for you all to get to know them!! This is loosely based on Sunflower by Rex Orange County. hope u all enjoy, I love feedback!! xo Roxie.

--

“Sage West!”

Sage took a deep breath and closed her eyes. She’d recognize that voice anywhere.

“Luke Hemmings.” She mustered up the biggest, toothiest smile she could and shot it at him.

“What are you up to tonight, my sunflower?”

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Sage huffed and spun around on her heel, making a beeline for the register so that there would be a barrier between the two.

“What?” Luke jogged behind her, leaning his elbows on the counter to get closer to the girl he so adored.

“You seem to keep forgetting the minor detail that I have a boyfriend.”

“That you hate.”

“Luke!”

“Look, it’s a party. Bring him.” Luke slipped you a piece of paper with a phone number and address on it.

“Text me if you have any questions.”

Sage took her second deep breath of the morning as she stared at the paper. She loved Luke. More than she should love a regular customer who seems to only come in to flirt with her. The first time she met Luke she knew exactly who he was, obviously. She worked at a record store, she’s got his albums stocked just about everywhere. She pretended that she didn’t know him, and he tried to pretend like he wasn’t falling in love at first sight. He’s come back multiple times a week since then. Only problem was her boyfriend. Her boyfriend who takes advantage of her kindness and soft spokenness and walks all over her.

She grabbed the paper and shoved it in her back pocket, she wasn’t gonna go, but throwing out Luke Hemmings’ phone number just didn’t feel right.

-

The second Sage stepped foot into the house party she wanted to turn around, run home, get under her covers, and never come out.

Her plan was ruined when Luke made eye contact with her in less than 5 seconds.

“West!” He called out with the brightest smile on his face. Fuck, she loved that smile.

Before she knew it the tall blonde was stopped right in front of her.

“Let’s get you a drink, sunflower!”

“My name is Sage.” She said quietly while involuntarily squeezing Luke’s hand as she took in the party crowd.

He turned to her and smiled, but said nothing. He finally stopped the two of you at a large table in the dining room, filled to the edges with different kinds of alcohol.

“Pick your poison, Sunny!”

“Sage.” The girl reached out her lanky hand and grabbed one of the only unopened beers. “Weed?”

Luke smiled. “Fuck yeah. Let’s find Calum.”

Sage didn’t have to ask who Calum was. Again, the girl worked in a record store.

Luke grabbed her hand once again, she let it slide because if he didn’t she’d probably get lost.

“Who’s house is this anyway?” She asked, but Luke stopped paying attention to her and had his eyes on a crying girl.

“Fi? Hey, what happened?”

“Ask Calum.” She spat and shoved past Luke.

Calum came not too long after, Luke stopped him to let him know he better fix whatever he did.

Once Calum was out of sight Luke turned back to Sage.

“Stupid shits have been in love with each other for years. Took Calum’s joint.” He held up the perfectly rolled paper in his fingers. “Let’s go!” He grabbed her hand once again.

Luke had barely relaxed until him and Sage were comfortably seated on the patio. He pulled out the joint and stuck it between the girl’s lips, holding out his lighter and lighting the end of it.

“No boyfriend?”

“He wasn’t home when I left.” She stated dryly before taking a large inhale of the smoke and handing the joint to Luke.

“Hm.” Luke hummed, not wanting to pry and cause the girl to leave.

“How long you two been together?” He asked, blowing out smoke and handing the joint back to the girl.

“Three years.”

“Damn, Sunny.”

“Why do you call me that?”

“Suits you.” “Hm.” It was Sage’s turn to hum.

“Ya know, sometimes I don’t wanna go home.” Sage said quietly, almost to where Luke didn’t hear her.

“How come?”

“He scares me.”

Luke’s heart shattered. Sage was the sweetest girl he’d ever come across, he hated that stupid relationship she was in. They never saw each other outside of the record shop but when she did mention her boyfriend he’d notice her shoulders drop or her fingers start to fidget.

“So why do you?”

Sage shrugged. “Can’t bring myself to leave.”

“Does he hit you?”

She shook her head rapidly. “No, just yells a lot. Says mean stuff.”

If Luke had blinked at the right moment he would’ve missed her wipe a tear.

“You can’t stay with someone like that, Sunny. That’s not- I mean, being scared to go home? That can’t be love.”

“What am I supposed to do?”

“You could stay with me, I don’t wanna see you cry, Sage.” Luke offered in all seriousness. Not a hint of humor in his eyes.

Sage rolled her eyes. “I barely know you, Luke.”

Luke cleared his throat. “I’m Luke Robert Hemmings, I’m from Australia. I’ve got a dog named Petunia, my favorite color is blue, I’m in a stupid band, I have two brothers, and I really like Jack in the box. Anything else?”

Sage laughed, “I can’t, Luke.”

“You don’t have to feel this emptiness.” Luke said.

Sage brought her head up to look at the blond.

“I’m sorry, Luke.” Sage whispered and picked up her purse, making her way to the door. She started to open it then looked back at Luke. “Thanks.”

-

Luke couldn’t go to the record store, he was too embarrassed.

Of course she’s not gonna stay with you, you dick.

“I’m worried about her, honestly.” Luke huffed at breakfast. “Her boyfriend scares her, I mean, it can’t be good.”

“She has your number. I’m sure she’ll call if things get bad.” Calum said, reaching over to grab a strawberry off of Fiona’s plate.

“She had a point, you know. She doesn’t know you.”

“I’m a celebrity. How much shit could I possibly have to hide?”

Fiona shrugged like he had a point.

“My advice? Give it time. Be her friend, help her through it, be the shoulder to cry on right now. From what you’ve told me I can tell she likes you too, but give her time. Relationships like that are scary, can’t really just up and leave.” Fiona said.

Luke nodded. He would wait forever if he had to.

-

About two weeks after the party and Luke had made no contact with Sage. Fiona said she would most likely come to him but he was sick of waiting. He didn’t have a phone number and he didn’t want to upset her while she was at work. Not knowing if he was gonna be able to see her again was killing him.

Luke had just finished up writing a couple verses for a new song when there was a timid knock at the door, he probably wouldn’t have heard it if it wasn’t for Petunia nearly losing her mind.

“Calm down!” He whisper-yelled at the dog as he made his way to the door. Once he swung it open he was met with a very shaky and crying Sage.

“Sage? Come in, Sunny, come in.”

The girl took in an uneven breath and rushed through the door as if someone was chasing her and Luke hurriedly closed the door and locked it before turning to her.

“I didn’t know where else to go.” She whimpered and Luke didn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around her.

“We need to get you some friends, Sunny.” He said sarcastically and Sage let out a laugh.

“I guess so.”

“Boyfriend?”

“Out of the picture.”

“Good. Asshole.” Luke huffed and separated himself from her, arms still around her waist.

“Staying here?”

She nodded.

“Tea?

Another nod.

Luke nodded and brought her to the kitchen, making her a cup of tea before showing her to the guest bedroom next to his.

He showed her the bathroom, the clean towels, the extra blankets, and the laundry room.

“Can I come with you in the morning to pick up your stuff?” He asked her once she had settled herself on the bed in her pajamas.

“Please.”

Luke nodded. “Hey, how did you find my apartment?”

Sage could feel her cheeks heat up. “I may have googled your address?”

The boy laughed, “Couldn’t give me a call?”

“Asshole ripped up the paper you gave me. Said I was cheating.”

Luke’s heart sank. He didn’t respond, just walked to her and bent down, pressing a soft kiss to her head.

“I promise I’m the one for you.”

[arigatouiris]

out of my league // t.h — 05

Pairing: Tom Holland x Critic! Reader [I use female pronouns]

Warnings: swearing; eventual fluff; angst; hurt/comfort; pining; a little bit of cliche because come on.

A/N: I’m going along with the Mark Hamill thing, just for gags idk. Anyway, as for Aditi; I’m from India and I really don’t see a lot of representation on here, so I decided to add her as a side character. Hope ya’ll like this chapter~  Also, if you want me to add you to the series taglist, just drop a note or comment! ^^

Word count: 3171 

Series Masterlist

 04 | 05 | 06 

It came as a surprise to everyone a day after that when (y/n) decided to stick to the desk. Susannah even offered her another break (but, she was hesitant while doing so and blamed herself as the reason for which (y/n) declined), but (y/n) had made up her mind.

    “But why desk? I thought you hated the desk!” Susannah exclaimed, confused out of her mind.

    “Takes my mind off things. This is a vacation when compared to what I have to do otherwise.” (y/n) said, sheepishly.

    “You love reviewing though.” Bruce mumbled, but no one really paid heed to what he was saying.

    “Ever since Tom Holland made it easier for everyone around here to breathe, you should take that as a sign that you can get back to your normal life, (y/n). Maybe, even send him a thank you—”

    “I’m not sending him any thank you notes, he’s the reason everything began! He can’t create a problem and take credit for solving it.” (y/n) didn’t think she was being harsh.

Not doing this, she reminded herself. Turning on her heel, she headed to the desk she was appointed a few days ago and opened her mail. An exasperated sigh exited her lips when she noticed the odd number of mails, each containing a document for her to copy edit and review.

    She’d be lying if she said she didn’t at all feel thankful that Tom solved the issue with that one Instagram story. First, it took him that long to make it (which meant he went against what his manager said again, and who knows what trouble he got into for doing that?) What trouble can he get into? He’s an actor! (y/n) rolled her eyes as she continued her thoughts. Second, this was all his fault in the first place—considering how Jean Marcel is doing quite well writing crappy scripts for smaller TV shows at the moment. And third, (y/n) had had enough of an actor trying to win her over with his charm. Of course, some part of Tom Holland wanted to say sorry and thought it would work because he’s an actor. And an actor appearing on your doorstep is a big deal, as well! And some part of (y/n) wanted to accept such an apology only because Tom was a celebrity, and this didn’t sit well with her.

I’m out of his league, it had become a mantra now. I will never accept his apology. In the past, (y/n) was known to be someone who used the word ‘never’ a tad bit too much. Whether this aspect of her personality died down with age didn’t phase her at the moment. This was Tom Holland, an actor by profession, and a man who had screwed up otherwise.

    “So, are ya gonna thank the woman who showed you lovely Tom’s story yesterday?” Aditi’s voice appeared out of nowhere.

Rolling her eyes, (y/n) looked up from her desk to see a grinning Indian woman, her shades still on and her smile, rather annoying. Aditi was the personification of sass.

    “He’s not lovely Tom.”

    “That’s all you’re going to correct from that sentence? Wow, (y/n), you’re going soft on me.”

    “Aditi, what’s up?”

Taking her shades off, Aditi grumbled something before turning to her friend, “How’re you holding up?”

    “I’m better now.”

    “Like Post Malone?”

(y/n) turned to her computer, ignoring her statement, thus inevitably shooing her annoying friend away. Aditi laughed as she walked away, talking about Tom Holland being a savior. No one sees it, (y/n) thought to herself, feeling her ears turn pink. Everything that I had to go through, all those mails I had to read! If they knew even half of it, they’d know that Tom Holland isn’t to thank for here. I can’t believe that it has to be explained to them, she shut her eyes for a moment before taking a deep breath. I won’t be doing the explaining. I’ve had it. I don’t want to ever associate myself with Tom Holland ever again.

    While it was surprising to everyone that (y/n) decided to stay back at the desk for the moment, it wasn’t as surprising as it was for (y/n) herself. She has always hated the desk for as long as she could remember; her first week at the job and she dreaded it and wanted out. Her confidence levels were booming then, she was an enthusiastic cutlet of pure passion, she wouldn’t let the desk mar her confidence in anyway from achieving what she truly wanted. However, now, especially after the internet fiasco, (y/n) had come close to giving up.

Mental exhaustion hit her harder than it ever did before; she never knew people were capable of such hate, such anger over something they didn’t clearly understand. If (y/n) wasn’t being existential, she was being cautious. People were a force of nature, and angering a crowd proved drastic for her. She always considered her job like surfing, it’s never a safe sport. However, even a surfer tends to take a break after almost drowning. But the breath of fresh air had hit her lungs, she had found her release and everything was slowly going back to their place—Tom was leaving her alone, and she could return to critiquing.

    (y/n) should be happy, but she felt nothing of the sort. She felt absolutely nothing. She felt nothing a lot these days, ever since the scandal; she’s cried a few times, but she mostly found herself feeling nothing, being nothing. She felt empty—as if whatever makes her feel and hurt has been surgically removed, leaving her hollowed out like a shell.

The mere mention of Tom did something to her; she would feel agitated, an uncontrolled force of ire would fill her veins. She didn’t know if this was for the actor, or the person or the entire ordeal that had taken place. She didn’t know if she was wrong in blaming only him, or being mad at only him—but from her shoes, he was all she could see. 

     It was as if someone could draw lines pointing toward what caused all these problems and all lines met at Tom Holland. In a way, she admired his strength. Just a few weeks of internet hate turned her into a hollow shell of who she used to be; Tom does this every single day. He couldn’t be who he wanted to be because he was a celebrity; all his shows and interviews were interviewing Tom Holland, the actor who played Spiderman and Lionel, and not Tom Holland, the person whose face turns red because of the weather.

However, she was not in any position to be empathetic to the perpetrator of her sorrow. Whether he wanted to or not, he had impacted her mental health more than adulthood had; and he had done it in a span of a few weeks. Less than what adulthood itself took. While comparing her sudden outbreak to adulthood, (y/n) understood that this pain was given the right credit. That the hurt she had been inflicted with demanded her response.

    She, therefore, could not forgive Tom Holland, the actor, the person, the phenomenon.

Even Tom Holland had his phone fall flat on his nose as he held it to his face in the dark as he was lying down. It didn’t matter to the phone that he was Tom Holland, gravity worked even if you’re attractive. 

Grumbling in pain, Tom immediately checked for any signs of blood spilling from his nostrils, and sighed in relief when there was none. Letting out a couple of coughs, and pushing one leg out of the corner of the blanket that was covering him, Tom was finally comfortable again. It was close to 2:30 a.m., but he couldn’t sleep. Tom always had trouble falling asleep, but he normally never let it embrace him like he did that night.

    His eyes scrolled through Google search, his tongue popping out in instinct, and his eyes landed on what he wanted to look for.

    Birds of a Feather — Review by (y/n) (l/n) | London Daily

He licked his lips instinctively before clicking on the link. He scrolled to her profile in the bottom and clicked on it (since he had already read the review multiple times since then). Tom was reading the script for a new advert he was sent electronically, till it was around 1 a.m., and it was after that when he tried sleeping. When he couldn’t, he browsed through Instagram for a bit, laughed at a few funny videos on cats and dogs, but all of this he was trying to do to avoid thinking of her.

    But, once he thought of her, she stuck around. He shut his eyes and breathed, recalling her face as she smiled at him, sitting across from him in the coffeeshop. He’d pictured over ten times on how that conversation would have gone if those girls hadn’t interrupted them. He’d wondered if she’d tell him more about herself, and he wondered if he could ask her why she didn’t follow him on Instagram (taking a careful moment there, because he didn’t want to seem creepy). He wondered if she’d smile at him often the way she normally smiled, and he wondered if she’d reserve a special smile only for him.

It was almost as if he was resisting all these thoughts by not thinking of her and thinking of everything else; but all else seemed mundane in front of her.

He recalled every single detail about her from that day in the coffeeshop. Her Emilia Clarke smile when he was surprised she drank her coffee black. Her laugh—oh goodness—her laugh. When he thought about the way she laughed, as though she owned the air around her, Tom’s heart thundered inside his chest, a symphony on its own.

    He looked at all the reviews she had written, over a 100 of them, and scrolled to the very first one. He could feel his heart beating as he was scrolling through her pages, almost as if he was doing something so secretive that he couldn’t let the world know yet. Tom wasn’t thinking and perhaps, a crush can do that to a person; where their body knows what the mind wants, and was working on finding out more and more and more about the person in question.

He found her Star Wars reviews, all of them stacked together. He slowly began reading each and every single one—some were not longer than 900 words, some critiques were over 2000. He absorbed the way she thought in some of the movies he’s also seen, and he wanted more. 

He searched for her name on Facebook after that and found her in one go, chuckling when he discovered that she hadn’t actually deactivated her Facebook account. He stalked her innocently, careful not to like anything, careful not to make it seem like he had tread on a path he wasn’t allowed. Tom almost felt like he was trespassing, but this didn’t harm anyone.

    She likes Star Wars, he thought before adorning a smile. He took a look at one of her status updates about Mark Hamill. If Mark Hamill ever replied to a tweet I made, I’d die. I’d just cry and die right then. Tom laughed, before scrolling past and seeing more of her. Here was a whole person, whose life was intertwined with an Instagram story he had put up.

    “I’ve met Mark Hamill, you know,” Tom said to absolutely no one. “He’s such a nice guy.”

And Tom fantasized all night over introducing her to Hamill, seeing her melt, or cry and die like she had written. Tom knew this was incredibly foolish of him to be thinking the way he was about someone he knew nothing about (of course, knowing she likes Mark Hamill didn’t count). Oh, but he wanted to. He wanted to know her. He wanted to ease things and not have this radio silence with her. He’s an actor, and there would be so many people he’d never ever meet, who desperately wanted to meet him. But this was perhaps the first time, where Tom desperately wanted to meet someone, and being an actor didn’t help.

    It was as if the tables were turned here. To him, (y/n) was now the celebrity, far out of his reach, pristine and wonderful, hardworking and gorgeous, close to ideal even—but one fact remained. Tom shut his phone and put it aside, noticing the time was close to 4 in the morning. She’s out of my league, Tom chuckled, before hoping to dream about her.

(y/n) woke up to her phone buzzing. It was several minutes before her alarm could wake her, but she was not complaining. She blinked a couple of times before checking her phone, and noticing that the message was from an unknown number. Sitting up, she held the phone in her hands and read through the message.

I hope everything is alright now. I sincerely hope you don’t have any more mails coming your way, bad ones. I’m sorry I can’t tell you this in person, for screwing up last time. Have a good day, (y/n). :) 

There’s a smiley in the end, she thought before frowning. She knew who it was from. She didn’t want to wake up with this being the first thing she saw. Sighing, she closed the messages app before getting on with her day. If he was expecting a reply, then her behavior was a clear giveaway. She was ghosting him. 

     It took her close to an hour to get ready, have breakfast and begin her journey to the office that morning. She liked how London was sunny that morning, and not gloomy like it was almost every other day. Just as she reached office, greeting people she knew with a nice smile, she spotted Aditi already waiting by her desk. Cocking an eyebrow at her friend, she hopping toward her to ask her what happened.

    “You won’t believe who called me to ask for your number,” Aditi said, smirking. “You most definitely won’t like who it is, but I’m warning you, be nice. You need to be. May the Force be with you.”

(y/n) rolls her eyes before whispering, “Was it Tom Holland?”

Aditi blinks like she heard her friend say the most idiotic thing possible. She scoffed and shook her head at (y/n)’s imprudence.

    “Oh, please! Why in the world would Tom Holland call a beat reporter? No, it was someone else that you don’t like and you’re going to need to be at your best—”

Almost as if on cue, (y/n)’s phone started to ring. Blinking at Aditi, she moved aside a bit, placing her bag on her desk and picked up the call.

    “Hello?”

    “(y/n)?” The voice sounded bored, almost as if she didn’t even want to be talking.

(y/n) felt all the energy leave her body when she identified the caller.

    “Jenny. What a pleasant surprise.” Robotic and not genuine.

    “Alright, so I don’t know what the whole deal is with you and Tom, but he sent me a rather sharp mail talking about how disappointed he was with the content I broadcasted on my show, and that I had to call you and apologize for slandering your name.”

    “He did?” (y/n) was confused.

    “Yes,” There was a sigh, “He did. And he was demanding so I had to call you. Why else would I call you?” Jenny didn’t have to explicitly state that she hated (y/n), all Jenny had to do was talk.

    “Thanks for calling, Jen. Keep up with the great work!” (y/n) faked enthusiasm, and heard Jenny groan before ending the call.

    “Jennifer fucking Campbell. I can’t believe it.” (y/n) breathed, letting out a laugh.

    “But, why did she want to call you?” Aditi asked.

(y/n) sighed. She didn’t want to talk about it. She didn’t want to tell Aditi that Tom had asked Jenny to call. Aditi’s response was already in order. She’d ask her friend to send Tom a thank you note or a bouquet or whatever it was that they’d send with thank you notes. (y/n) shrugged before dropping the topic and getting to her desk. She had decided to ghost Tom, and even a rather hilarious apology from Jenny wouldn’t do.

An hour later, (y/n)’s phone beeped. Taking a breather, she checked her phone to find she had a new follow request. Blinking, she clicked on the Instagram notification and groaned. A ‘tomholland2013’ had sent her a new request. What is he doing? She thought before declining it, and refreshing the page. A second later, there was another request. From Tom.

I am not doing this right now, she thought before ignoring the request; she felt her cheeks burn up, and a ghost of a smile was threatening to make its way up to her lips. She wouldn’t cave. No, she scolded herself before straightening her reaction. I am not doing this!

A moment later, she let out a squeak and covered her face with her hands. She could control her reactions, but her face was still quite warm. As much as she loved her ability to ignore unwanted people in her life, ignoring Tom Holland was a challenge.

    “What’s gotten into you?” Haz asked, petting Tessa on the head.

    “What do you mean?” Tom said, looking up from his phone, a smile still on his face.

Harrison pointed to Tom’s eerie smile, disgusted, “That. You’re smiling like a horse.”

Tom scoffed before muttering a ‘sod off’ and getting back to his phone. Haz blinked before looking at Harry and Sam, who were coming into the living room. Pointing to his friend, Harrison waited for Harry or Sam to respond on their own.

    “He’s been like this since last night.” Sam said, bored.

    “He’s been readin’, can you believe it? I even peeped into what he was looking at so intensely, but they were just words.” Harry said, shrugging.

Haz looked at Tom, who was ignoring the whole thing.

    “Could be smut.” Sam suggested.

Haz rolled his eyes, “He’s not reading porn, Sam.”

    “Whatever he’s readin’s sure making him smile like a fucking creep, that’s for sure.” Harry said, letting out a laugh.

Harrison let out a sigh. He looked at his friend and wondered. The only other time that Tom was out of wits was back in BRIT when he was obsessed with this other girl in class. The crush didn’t last very long, but similar signs were present back then—now grown in intensity. Haz nodded to himself once before minding his own business. The answers would come to him, as they always did.

It’s Tom. And he was Haz. It was meant to happen.  

series taglist:

@strangemaximoff, @aestheticgaybish, @noobmaster63, @why-are-all-the-teens-gay, @wonders-of-the-multiverse, @boushalaivre, @jackiehollanderr, @nerdypisces160, @yourwonderbelle, @quackson606, @stickyqueenbouquetsstuff, @fandoms-stuff, @danicarosaline

[panimation]

The Heathen Kid - Vikings

okay so idk what my monkey brain is doing but here is another thing i guess (gif from google)

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” I leaned forward, hoping it would make my bike go ten times faster, but sadly I was still stuck at max speed. The bike stalled shortly, making me gasp and my backpack to lift and fall from the jolt. I turned to see how far they were from me, and turned back to the road quickly when I felt another stall. I looked down at the bike, as if I could see something happening, and then looked up to find a trail I could lose them on.

I was an idiot for thinking I could outsmart them. Of course they would know I was watching their house, and obviously they would know if I got into their computers. Dumb fucking move, me, dumb move.

There was dirt spread on the side of the road, signalling a trail, so I hit my front brakes and twisted the bike, front wheel lifting off the ground as I took off again. The wheel spun on the dirt and gravel, my heart beating faster knowing this was not something I had put my bike through, ever. The bike stalled multiple times, lights flashing on and off as I slowed down. “No, don’t do this!” I yelled, pushing it to go faster. It did, taking me around a bend but then couldn’t take anymore. The wheels skidded onto a back road, 

The handlebars locked on me, and the bike shut itself down. I screamed as the bike rolled right into a dense part of the trees, branches scraping the metal before I hit a small mound. It pushed me back onto the side of the road making me scramble to get off the bike before it fell. I was too late. My foot got caught under the exhaust, and I winced. The bike was still a little heavy for me to lift, so I had to push a few times before it budged.

The roaring from the main road scared me back to what was happening. They were nearing and I was going to die.

Slipping my foot out, I stood and tried to lift the bike all the way up. My hands slipped and I stared in disgust. Some liquid was soaking into my gloves. Leaning down to see what was on the side of the seat, I saw gas leaking onto the pavement and dirt, a rock resting underneath the overturned motorized vehicle. I put my hands on my helmet, pacing a few steps away and then back.

“Fuck!”

I stood on the path, breathing heavily for a moment, before I made my decision and ran into the woods leaving my only way out on the ground behind me. The heavy rumbling from the other bikes echoed around me as they neared and neared until I heard engines being cut and voices speaking up. I quickly, ducked behind a clump of small trees and tried to slow my breathing as I slipped a little.

There was low talking for only a few moments before a slow whistle dragged thought the woods. I leaned back against the trees, taking quiet deep breaths. Something was off though. I inhaled through my nose, lifting my head in confusion. I was so far from my bike, why was I still smelling the gasoline? I looked to my hands, wiping them on my jacket, when my eyes caught on to something else. My sore foot was covered in gasoline, after being under the tank when it ruptured.

I held my breath when I saw the small trail of gasoline on the leaves just behind me. I turned my head, following the trail with my eyes before I looked up, staring right into the eyes of one of them.

I jumped back, falling to the ground as a tree root betrayed me. He laughed loudly, taking menacing steps towards me. I rolled over, pushing myself up to run. A foot kicked me back down, knocking the air out of me. His laughter grew as I crawled now, whimpering at the new pain in my back.

He grabbed me by my jacket, turning me onto my back and shoving me harshly into the leaves and twigs. I tried to fight off his hands but he grabbed mine, leaving me nearly defenseless. I grunted, voice showing fear as I struggled to pulled my hands from his tight grip.

“Over here, brothers!” He yelled out, voice deep and boyish. I struggled more, trying to kick him off of me. He laughed again and pinned me down completely, leaving me with no room to do anything. I growled, pushing as hard as I could, but to no avail, as the guy weighed a ton and clearly worked out more than me. My backpack sat uncomfortably under me, things being crushed.

Leaves crunched all around me as the others made their way to where we were, all of them forming a circle of some sort. The guy on top of me lifted himself up, pulling me up by my arms. I yanked myself backwards in attempt to make him let go, but he held a tight grip.

“Just you, runt?”

One of the men stepped towards me, and I tried to reach for my knife, panicking. The guy holding onto my arms twisted my left arm into a painful hold, making me stand on my toes to try and stop the pain while my backpack pushed up against the back of my helmet. The older man smiled, grabbing my knife from the worn down strap it was in. My eyes welled up with tears behind the helmet visor.

The guy twisting my arm pushed harder, making me reach up to try and pull his hand away. “Why in Hel were you at our house?” He asked me, leaning close to my helmet. I shifted my head against my bag, not sure if I should motion to it or not.

The older man stared right at the visor, as if he could see my eyes clearly. “We will find out anyway.” He grabbed my bag and yanked at it, straps sliding past my shoulders. The guy holding my arm let me go briefly, the bag being pulled from my arms, then shoved me to the ground, pinning me down with his foot. I watched in fear as the older man, Ragnar, I had realized in that moment, went through the papers before pulling most of them out.

A smaller plastic bag fell out, hitting the dirt. He dropped the papers and reached in, pulling more of the same bags out and dropping all but one. Food.

“What is this for?” He stomped towards me, a few papers and a bag of food in one hand. He pressed them against my chest and grabbed my jacket roughly. The guy had moved back, letting Ragnar take control.

I held my hands up in surrender, eyes shut tight. “Why did you steal from us?” He continued to jostle me around, the papers crinkling under his hands. As I didn’t answer, he stood up and he turned away frustrated.

“By the gods, father look.”

An older guy stood further from me, holding his phone for Ragnar to take. He scrolled for only a second. “And that was it? That was the only page pulled up?” He asked, handing the phone back and going to pick up the scattered papers:

Grocery orders printed out, and highlighted food items, with the location written next to them.

Both of them looked at me, gears turning.

“Sigurd? You have the bag?” A long blond haired boy moved forward, pulling a small bag from around his neck and rummaging through it. “Light or heavy?” He asked, looking up. Ragnar looked over me, then grabbed my jacket to lift me up. He looked back to the blond boy.

“Light.”

I watched in fear as the boy pulled out a syringe, and advanced towards us. My feet were barely touching the ground, so all I could do was try and kick Ragnar. He only laughed and dropped me, pinning me down and picking up the dagger he had taken from me.

“Have you had your shots yet?” He smiled, tearing the shoulder of my leather jacket with the sharp object and then ripping it further with just his hand. I could feel the muscles of my shoulder straining as I tried hard to push against his grip, and a new cut from the dagger stinging. 

Ragnar pressed his elbow against the bottom of my helmet so I couldn’t move my left side at all, and I tried to grab at him. I held back whimpers of pain as his grip and the pressure of his arm grew. A small prick at my arm made me jump, but I couldn’t see what was happening. I continued to push against Ragnar holding me down, and I tried to kick him again.

“Shhhh, you’ll feel better in a minute.” He spoke quietly to me, leaning closer to my helmet. There was a faint ringing in my ear before it became louder, and it was then when I realized everything felt heavy. I tried to push harder, but my muscles felt limp, and I could feel my body relaxing with every move. “That’s it. Just go to sleep.”

I looked for something close enough to hit him with, my head spinning and my eyes unfocused. My hands searched the leaves and grass, faintly grabbing when I thought something was heavy. Ragnar grabbed my wrist and held it tight, making sure I couldn’t do anything.

I strained to keep my eyes open, breathing in slowly to try to convince myself that I had enough strength to escape still. The sun hit me right in the eyes, leaves in the tall trees blocking it every few seconds. 

“Get the bike.”

“We’re alone?”

“Yeah.”

I could see myself, standing in that damned room, and watching for anybody coming in. However, I was also watching the trees sway as the last of my strength went dormant inside me.

“You know you can’t go.”

“This time, it’s for me, okay?”

“Looks like you’re coming with us runt.”

The last thing I saw was one of the younger men lifting me up and then the back of his boots as I was thrown over his shoulder.

“How do I know you’re coming back?”

“Why would I lie to you?”

[thelastspeecher]

eregyrn-falls replied to your post: a quick Google search confirms the Grand Canyon...

1. i agree with you about Four Corners; we stopped there because I couldn’t NOT stop there, but we spent like 10 minutes, really. 2. also YES, i have this same impulse when planning road trips. when i did a big SW trip with friends we drove over 2100 miles in 2 weeks (Vegas > Death Valley > Zion > GC North rim > Antelope canyon > massive detour because of landslide > GC South rim > Monument Valley > Four Corners > Mesa Verde > Gallup > Petrified Forest >…

and I want to get out there again to see bits in NM that we didn’t fit in, and frankly, if I haven’t done Yellowstone by that time, I would TOTALLY put Yellowstone on that itinerary, because think of all the great places to stop between the two! (Also I have friends in Denver. It’s quite likely I’ll get out there to see RMNP and just continue on up to Grand Teton and Yellowstone.

And heck… is Glacier REALLY that far from Yellowstone? I mean… when you get right down to it? lol )

oh man that trip sounds AWESOME.  it’s been years since my family has gone on one of those fun trips to see National Parks out west (last time was in high school when we saw the Grand Canyon for the second time, and a couple other things I can’t remember off the top of my head), sadly, but it was SO GREAT and I even had one of those Park Passports where you get stamps from every National Park you go to.

I haven’t been to Death Valley, but I’ve been to most of the things you listed, lol, including Zion and Petrified Forest.  I honestly can’t remember how many National Parks or Monuments I’ve been to, since it’s so many and we started going when I was so young.  supposedly, I’ve been to Craters of the Moon and really liked it, but I can’t remember it.  Glacier National Park, I would love to go to, as well.

my roommate and I want to go out west so I can show them all the National Parks I went to when I was younger, and we can ogle nature and I can explain the science behind the nature (being a geologist means I get extra out of most National Parks, lmao).  

anyways, my two cents: ABSOLUTELY stop by Grand Teton.  it’s GORGEOUS.  I took a million pictures when we went there during Field Camp.

(Field Camp is a required field work class for a geology degree.  I hated most of it bc there were a few people who hated my guts and a few rotten apples spoil the barrel [VERY LONG STORY], but we also stopped by some National Parks to talk about geology of those places and I actually enjoyed that bc NATIONAL PARKS.  most of the places we stopped were repeats for me lol)

Yellowstone is SO UNIQUE and my ALL-TIME FAVE, including the Grand Canyon, bc it’s the epitome of my field of research.  like, the classic site to study geomicrobiology is Yellowstone.  the geysers are cool, but the hot springs, man.  THE HOT SPRINGS.  you NEEEEEED to go there.  I’ve been there twice and I aim to go there a third time sometime soon.

also good to look for is Devil’s Tower.  I think it’s a National Monument, not a National Park, but it’s wicked cool.  Jewel and Wind Cave (National Monuments) are also really cool, but if you get claustrophobic, probably should be avoided.  oooh, and the Badlands!  the Badlands are SO COOL.  that’s one I’ve been to twice, first when I was smol and second for Field Camp.  and even tho I only really remember the Field Camp visit, I am more fond towards the vague memories of the trip when I was smol.  I think we saw wild horses, which....would explain why I loved the Badlands so much when I was smol.

RMNP is a good one!  I have many fond memories of it, since it was the one we went to multiple times when I was younger while we visited my relatives in Denver.  like I said, it’s been a while, but I remember going up this long, winding mountain road, and snow outside even tho it was summer (bc mountains be like that sometimes).  and we stopped at the visitor’s center (?) at the peak, and drank hot cider, and I looked at the polished rocks they had.  and my dad played John Denver nonstop, naturally.

in general, there is SO MUCH great stuff out west and I am SO JEALOUS of the people who just.  live near that stuff.  like, I love being in the Midwest and don’t see myself ever living somewhere else, but damn we basically just have cornfields and pastures.  there are some exceptions, like the Loess Hills in Iowa (which are...some sort of National Something but idk what), or Devil’s Lake in Wisconsin, but nothing’s gonna top the majesty of the Grand Canyon or the landscape of Grand Teton or the awe-inspiring geysers of Yellowstone.  nothing’s gonna top that.

two side notes: have you tried bison?  TRY BISON.  they serve bison at like ALL the parks out west, and I lose my shit every single time, bc bison is SO GOOD.  and the huckleberry stuff, too!  I had a huckleberry flavored pop at Grand Teton that was way better than it had any right being, tbh.  for me, the western National Parks are: come for the nature, stay for the nature, and enjoy the shit outta the food.

I couldn’t find anywhere to put this side note so that it would mesh with my ramblings, but if you’re a National Parks junkie like me, you should go to Voyageurs!  it’s in Minnesota near International Falls and the Boundary Waters.  I’ve only been there once (...I think), but I am very fond of it bc I actually have a great-aunt and great-uncle who live there.  like.  their house is literally inside the park.  I don’t know how they got permission for it, but they’re there.  it’s so gorgeous and peaceful.  the wildlife is really something else, imo.  there’s a specific kind of lady’s slipper that is very rare and found most frequently in Voyageurs.

....anyways, in case you couldn’t tell, I am very fond of the National Parks.  my parents took me and my sisters on long trips to National Parks and State Parks and National Monuments when we were younger to instill in us an appreciation for nature, and to broaden our horizons, and educate us, and give us a taste for the outdoors.  and damn, did it fucking work.