#ignore what the subtitles say it’s gone nothing to do with him

[yeyayeya]

What a man

Mutuals/followers that know nothing of TGCF rate this man 1-10

[shadow456]

The words love and feeling are unfamiliar to me.

My heart is heavy, he still doesn't want to fall in love in this dirty world, but on the contrary, he really wants to love someone in his dreams.

Someone who is upset, lend you his shoulder so that you can calm down.

Someone who will love and love you unconditionally.

Someone who makes you feel safe

Someone who never gives up.

But these are just illusions, they do not exist in real life. Or maybe they exist and I don't deserve to see and feel them.

Every night before I sleep, I imagine and fantasize, an idea that will not happen in you, and there is only one person who can make my dreams and fantasies come true, that person is a kind and faceless boy that I see in my dream.

A boy I am not afraid to give.

My kind faceless boy that I take sleeping pills to see him more, just to see him for a few more hours.

He is the one who ignores

He mends my broken heart with every smile.

When I'm sad, thinking about him makes me feel good. I protect myself behind a smiling mask, but that boy always removes my mask and lets me be the real me. Recently, I can't sleep with that boy... Does that mean he's gone too?

where is my angel

This damn summer is over, but my angel boy did not return to my dreams.

I just wanted to laugh more with him, be more happy, was this too much to ask for?

My smile was bright and colorful, but now my smile has faded and I don't know how to laugh.

Now alone I am singing for his absence so that maybe he will come back.

It's not a problem if he doesn't come back, this is what my brain says, but this is not what my heart says.

My heavy heart has been waiting for a long time.

I just want to be happy and spend time with him one more time

Seasons change, 7 winters, spring, summer and autumn came and went, but he never came back to my dream.

I don't know what I did that he left.. Maybe I was too much in love with him. All I can say is that I'm sorry for falling in love with you, I'm sorry for having feelings for you.

Although I did not see that boy in reality, he is always in my imagination

I can give him the whole world and more

Who is that faceless boy that my heart is waiting for so much?

Maybe he is one of those people that I see and pass by every day

Or maybe it's just my imagination.

When the sun shines, the moon shines together.

He said that he will stay by my side forever and forever in your safe place, but... what happened now that he left?!

When the rain got worse, I had it and I wasn't afraid, but now I'm more afraid than ever.

When it was time to say goodbye, he would send me to the real world with a smile and say that I am waiting here.

His eyes shone more than the stars and his smile was more sweet and captivating than chocolate.

Decisions were made and he left.

I feel that our love was like the subtitle of a movie, it became worse day by day and in the end it was erased from his heart.

Boy, I can't get you out of my head

Your love is all I can think about.

I mean, how are you now, my angel?

I mean, did you dream of someone who loves you more than me?

But still, I will put you in my blue dream, even if they say that you are not and that you are just a creation of my mind.

Now therapy is not enough to calm me down, I need to kiss you.

I'm broken, but I'm not asking for help, I'm waiting for you to come and hide my flaws like before

Now I'm upset, but I'm still kind as you taught me.

I close my eyes and press hard so that maybe I could imagine you again.

Even if my eyes bleed, I will continue to do this.

Please come back.

As always, when I get tired of reality, I go back to my room and review the imaginations I made with you.

When I review them, I feel that nothing in this world can upset me.

I love that boy and hate him at the same time.

Now that you are gone, I have to remember more than ever who I am and I have to face the box that I am.

I have to try to love myself and build my future without you.

Everything has changed between us and now I am walking alone in this endless darkness.

We were each other's lost stars and we were trying to illuminate t

[storiesofsvu]

happy law and order thursday!!

Okay, city tv has registered that I’m not actually in Toronto and now we’re back to the backwards viewing order…

OC first:

My goldfish brain has half forgotten if we’ve seen this blonde dude before or if I just know him from somewhere else.

There’s so much goddamn tension between bell and the other captain, like there is no way they haven’t fucked…

Ugghh mama bear belllll…. Heck yes to these parents watching out for their kids, nothing gets past them lol.

Still don’t like/understand jet using air pods instead of official ear pieces…

Okay, yes Reyes was on his way to blowing the op, but jet didn’t need to jump right in, she kinda fucked the whole thing up.

Bruh… is that bitch dead? Do we need to start reminding the younger generations they need therapy too?

Okay, good, shrink time it is! Bonus that it’s Ayanna’s personal shrink, not department, a: more personal. B: proves that she’s in therapy and we know she likely needs it.

They might be exes, they might be frenemies, but they certainly do work an interrogation room great together

I feel like gunfire in the midst of a gas station parking lot where all the fuel is, is a deadly idea… that could have gone so much worse. Esp considering this is in relation to bombing cases…

I know a lot of it is likely just the era that the show was created/originally airing but the differences in the squad room designs between departments baffles me.

Elliot really out here lecturing his own brothers like he didn’t up and leave out of nowhere. God I hate this shit lol.

*

L&O now. How much attention will I pay?

Jfc… that dead body was a jump fucking scare

What is WITH all the shaky cam tonight, ugh.

I have said it before and I will say it again: Samantha Maroun goes shopping with Rita Calhoun.

Fuck, cases like this fucking suck. But like, legality wise, they’re right. It’s easier to get the perp behind bars by just using the more solid case they have with the rich white victim. If they try to get justice for all the victims, it’s way more likely that they case can and will be thrown out or land on a not guilty verdict. Ugh. Politics

If they need to prove that the vic and the perp didn’t have sex at the sex club on the night of the murder…why not just run a rape kit? Or would some kind of exam like that just be part of the autopsy?

More shaky cam… loving this.

Also why the fuck did my subtitles disappear halfway through this episode? I’m deaf… I need this shit..

Seriously that crime scene photo needs to come with a fucking warning. Jesus

*

Okay. SVU time

Wonderful. I’ve gotten my subtitles back. Thank god.

This is a weird start… hmm…

Getting even more interesting… ngl…

Okay, circling back around, I thought we might be about to get a plot twist of ray being the perp.

UUGHH. I saw a tweet about a new female officer/detective and as much as we all hope that she’ll stick around for more than a season… if Officer Gomez is the new squad member, she’s a woman poc so the chances of her sticking around are slim to none, lets be fucking real.

 Okay, don’t get me wrong. I know that this girl is tiny and she’s an escort, but if a man came in and confessed to rape you’d still take him immediately into an interrogation room. This is a double standard. Especially cause she’s young, thin and pretty, I’m not going to ignore that or let that slide either. *side eye* (like yes, we later do get to the point that she was forced at gun point, but they don’t know that til after. Everything is complicated and there’s lots of lines crossing over and blurring but my statement still stands)

When are they gonna make Bruno an actual part of the team? Why is he still just a guest star?

Man, it’s gotta be hella hard nowadays when it comes to taxis and shit. You have legit taxi’s, multiple companies, gypsy cabs and multiple ride share apps and companies.

Odafin Tutuola only knows about robin egg blue because of Phoebe… there is no way he would know otherwise.

This doctor clearly fucking rich as hell, fuck

HOW does the SEX CRIMES unit currently not have any women working for it??!! (I’m not counting liv cause she’s the captain and irl she would not be in the field, she’d be constantly swamped by paperwork). Even in this episode, it would be helpful to have either terry or fin and a female cop going to talk to a vic/potential vic, if I had been assaulted in any form, remembering it or not I wouldn’t be very open to talking about it if they were talking to me like that, both playing the alpha role. At least with Velasco he can slip into a more soft, quiet, supportive type of conversation/questioning…

“where do you keep your receipts” is something that ALWAYS blows my fucking mind on these shows as a bartender. I DO NOT GET IT. Maybe it’s cause we have tap/card machines that don’t require signatures in Canada, but like…we don’t keep receipts, and even when there are the ones we do keep, they don’t have names, they don’t even have the full credit card number on them, so there would be no way to track someone. We had 250 people in the room each night and as a bartender, unless they had a tab with me, or a personal connection/were a good tipper/conversationalist, I’m not gonna remember them. Our reservations are usually for large groups, so sure we have a single name/card on file, but there’s no way to pin point someone out of their 4-40 people friend groups.  Random bar/service industry things that drive me wild on tv shows. That’s all.

Okay, we’re taking the bracelet off, I think that’s some progress finally.

You know, I wouldn’t mind commercial breaks if they weren’t the same fucking commercials every damn time. That’s the issue with live streaming shit. I miss cable…

“well…they’re idiots, but at least they’re consistent” LOL

Ice T really said “hold on…I need to earn my paycheque for the season” with the amount of screen time he has this ep…

Wait…what’s the plan here? The cops have talked to the perps, there’s no way they wouldn’t be sus about ray coming back in on this. Why not send Velasco or other cops in to bribe the things out and play the ray role? This seems like a bad idea lol.

“wife is here” WHY DID NO ONE TELL VELASCO??

Why don’t we get to go to court anymore?!

Who is this defence attorney? She looks familiar.

I need to raid Velasco’s closet. This coat and sweater look so fucking cozy. They’re mine now.

Glad to see liv branching out to a new type of therapy.

[phantom-of-the-ruckus]

Cult theory updates 1

thinking about the cult theory, I believe that I'll probably try to explain first the most controversial and confusing aspect. This is going to be hard but I'll give it my best shot. Still me not trying to justify but give a much cleared reason based on the others interactions.

This probably will go after the basis of what makes them a cult. I do believe I have an explanation to what Mortimer called Nick during tape #7 (I believe)

I decided this since, it is better to approach the elephant in the room rather than ignoring it until the end. That might explain much better my intent to reference a documentary that does give a lot of inside in some cult "Keep Sweet: Pray and Obey" which can explain a bit the logistic in what I believe was Nick's OG idea in the last tape

as

It appears he knew Riley was coming but was confused about the others as he says "Riley, What are the others are doing here?"

I noticed some subtitle error in a video called "Rosco's origins explained" it actually shows the scripted version of what was going on and I noticed a line (that was not said. I am not sure if it was recorded but unused.) It said something like "This was totally why I was here. Definitively nothing else to look into" I do believe this was something that Nick was going to say. It does goes along with the idea he originally had in plan

I also believe that perhaps Nick leaned into his dramatic tendencies and build upon his head a huge drama that could resemble a Shakespearean tragedy when in reality it was not a big deal

That does sound like something Nick would do since sometimes he can be way self-absorb in the worst times and make huge deals about petty little things.

I'm just showing this as a recent observation.

-----

Now to some actual updates.

While talking with a good friend of mine from AO3 (They sorta believe the puppets are in some sort patriarchy cult, and the puppets are like a twisted "Family") brought up the Riley and Owen's relationship and the whole "Riley is an atheist" but they said they believe that Riley has some conflicted feelings about the religion as, according to my friend Stitch, she believes Owen is "A False God"

That made me realize that this could lead into something considering that canonically Owen is some sort of Puppet God (Mortimer and Riley confirmed this in the game and tapes. Owen is considered their creator)

I also remember reading somewhere in one of the articles I was reading for my investigation, that one of the "steps" or things related to cults is the rejection of god.

Now as far as I remember on how cults work (based on my high school assignments on true crime and cults which involved a podcast, hearing about real life cults, and listening to what makes cults a cult, ect.) Cult leaders aren’t necessarily worshiped (this is my take), but they're consider the ones who hold the true answers and the true leader that would lead them.

This does seem to reflect a lot with Riley in a sort of way. She refuses to believe Owen is her god and creator, but canonically established that she believes Mortimer is their true "Father" (whether she refers to this as Father in the sense that "oh he's dad" or father as "Father of creation" is debatable) and that she considers Mortimer "As their true leader"

I do believe it has to do something with what my friend Kris (Dreamlandcreations said) about Owen creating Riley but not being the one that brought her to life (Andrew Allen did comment on that by saying things like this are what make writing games worth it)

What I found interesting is that Riley genuinely follows Mortimer and still respects him even thought she believes he has gone mad with power but it appears she sees the puppet Rebellion as something for the greater good of what the puppets want rather than their well-being.

Why?

She puts more emphasis and her desires for the puppets to grow and advance instead of poking some looser guy and wanting to bring a show back to life after many years.

And I just realized that Riley complaining with Mortimer going mad around power is more about him become careless with what is going on and thinking more about his wants other than why the puppets are uniting.

This goes along with them not really being concern about their well-being but rather accomplishing one goal. One mindset.

Riley does seem to confirm this as she refers to the rebellion as "The puppets needing a new leader on their path of Glory."

---

Another observation, is Mortimer despising Nick.

Maybe Mortimer despises Nick so much is that whatever he is doing that involves Mortimer is always about how Nick can get off or get a reward whether Riley who is canonically considered "Mortimer's favorite" does things for being in service.

Mortimer does say Nick would rat out his own creator if it means he'll get something, which does goes with my observation.

This probably adds up to the cult theory as cult members are predetermined to follow a role and to serve for the greatest of the cult. Something that could be the reason why Nick is considered the black sheep of the clan and why Riley's first natural response is to get suspicious of Nick.

In comparison to Mortimer's "Favorite" and his "Hated" members of the Handee clan (I'm calling it that) is, like I said before, Riley does things to be on service and somewhat to keep the order as Mortimer would want it. Nick only seeks to benefit himself, and it appears Riley does notice this and is very much annoyed that he's not doing things for a greater good.

That's why she would become suspicious of whatever Nick has done.

And maybe she'll have some suspicion about Daisy as well since Riley has done everything in her power to keep things as Mortimer ordered them to be.

So, what if Riley's intentions into helping Daisy was because she felt guilty that Daisy would face a consequence that wasn't even fair because she could not control her danger mode, and decided to help Daisy control her danger mode as a way to kill to birds in one shot.

She's not very sure as its a concept she doesn't understand (empathy)

To help Daisy avoid slipping into danger mode again (and perhaps clear her guilt over blaming her over)

To make sure the problem is avoided next time and keeps things the way Mortimer wanted so they can focus again on their plans and Mortimer not to get mad again.

I do believe Riley's mentality in doing things is as a way to not only benefit herself, but the others, and to make something that Mortimer will approve.

Kinda fits into her role of second in command (which was something both games imply, and Owen confirms in a tape)

---

Those were some of my observations and progress I have so far.

I'm still trying to figure out to what extent the parallels to actual religion go which I do think there are a couple of ones. I don't think they go far into religion, but it appears the game plays with the idea of "Being created similarity and resemblance" which is a belief in Christianity (and I believe other religions too. Not sure, but if you know feel free to comment) that we're reflections of our creator uniquely.

I was also talking with my discord sister @dolly-royal in the possibility of Mortimer and Owen having some sort of inverse situation of Jesus and God (mostly on Jesus prayer in Gethsemane, which is about Jesus asking God if he could avoid the unavoidable: his death. In the end, Jesus does end up accepting his fate)

@dolly-royal asked me if the possibility that Owen's conscience being transferred into different hosts could be a way of reincarnation, and we did agree that this could also be revolving in the puppets trying to find a way into Owen accepting them since It does seem it is something they need.

Maybe this is what Mortimer referred in "No one can succeed if their god doesn't want them alive" in the game. Not sure.

Other things that I need to get into, is once again the story of the book and the implication that a greater evil was in the book based on the tape where the book dealer seems possessed. This is more related to the lore, but I do think everything is connected.

I do intend to check the first game again for some clues or things I can pick up. I just realized that during the tapes' timeline, Anthony was most likely around as there's a picture in the first game of Riley experimenting on trying to bring Rosco back to life. That is a cool detail.

I still need to look back at the tributary meaning, which I do believe I saw through the wrong POV considering Riley is more based on facts. Maybe I can break it down to what Riley meant during her conversation with Daisy.

The tapes revolving Mortimer to pinpoint his descent into paranoia, and perhaps things I never noticed before.

And finally I intend into learning more on one of the most important relationships in both games: Mortimer and Riley.

I do believe we all got the wrong idea after watching and hearing the tapes on what their relationship truly is after I gave it some thought and rewatched some of the tapes.

I've noticed that:

Mortimer and Riley have some unspoken level of trust with each other

It appears that both work extremely close to each other to the point of a personal level. I mean it in the sense like both could randomly enter each other's offices and be all like "Oh, hi, sir/ma'am (I do believe Mortimer was unfazed about Riley coming to his office uninvited, but "questioned" why she brought the others)

They do seem to know each other better than anyone else, and have a better understanding of what goes through each other's mind. It's like a non-romantic bond within the two that does seem to reflect in the first game.

There could be implications that a small (a very tiny) side of them genuinely care about the other. Like I noticed Mortimer sigh in a peculiar way and chose to at least pretend that he gave it a thought before telling Riley he was denying her request instead of just telling her "I said no." It almost felt as if he was unable to do that and decided to ease the hit. Still that doesn't change the back that he is willing to do horrible things against her.

This is more of an idea. I do believe Riley is aware that Mortimer genuinely does seem to have a like of her (in the no-romantic sense) as she does seem to return the feeling towards him (I don't think necessarily she sees him as a dad, but rather a figure she looks into to grow. Like some sort of mentor) I do think that is the reason why Riley never thought about the idea of treason + Mortimer being quite soft and almost humorous about Rosco. It is almost like him telling her in a matter she would only understand: "You know very much that I genuinely find you competent and likable, to the point that I am not joking when I say you're my favorite. That's the main reason why I spare you a severe punishment, but remember that I won't always be this nice to you."

I do believe this is a key relationship in understanding how Mortimer's mind and decisions work

Anyways, this is my long ramble. Feel free to ask questions or add anything to this.

[wanderingrain]

Blogging through Till the World Ends Ep 8

Do ya'll not know what a gas station looks like?

Wait what are we doing? Why are we here?

I bet ya'll left the gun in the car didn't you.

wow I'm sure that curtain won't be falling down while we're here/s

lol not P'Gus appearing out of nowhere for a jumpscare

They are not about to kill a chicken

Lol Art saying "kill them all" and Golf rethinking his life choices. 🤣

Lol them spitting out the ramen

Not P'Gus creating an opportunity for them to have sex

I hate when they translate faen as girlfriend or boyfriend. It's a gender neutral term. Translating it in a gendered way adds a layer to the conversation that isn't actually there. I'm fine with it when everyone in the room knows the gender of the faen, but when the person doesn't know, the translation makes them seem either ignorant or accepting.

Same Art, same. I feel like I'd understand this better if i didn't have to rely on subtitles.

Weird of them to describe Salim as being a bad thing and then tell Art he is Salim. Are we not gonna fix that or...?

Not P'Gus being surprised they haven't had sex yet. Sir have you ever even seen them kiss? No you haven't because I haven't either.

Not him telling them to have sex

Back to our gang boys

Who leaves their car keys in the car?

Look at that big, beautiful moon.

Not Art being nervous.

Oh?

My dude please tell me you know about lube

Not the shirt being ripped .

Oh no that's such a cute smile

Uhhhh either P'Gus is snooping on his brother when he thinks he's having sex or we have another person in the house.

Again??

ok we've discovered kissing and we don't want to stop I guess

ohhhhh Tilak

if P'Gus died while they were having sex I swear

No Art is so cute lying on the bed all giddy

Wait there's a bedroom in the bedroom? ?

Wait if the guy was in this room all night.... you know what nevermind.

oh no oh no not fighting oh no

there's a swimming pool in the bunker?

This class system sounds really strange.

Don't they already know how to get there?

Not P'Gus knowing about Uncle

oh jeez. This angle looking up at the moon is actually pretty scary. Can you imagine looking up and seeing the moon like that and there's nothing that can be done to stop it? It's going to hit the Earth and then what? Even if people survive, there's so many things that would change if the moon was gone. What happens to the oceans? The day/night cycle? This is the first time this show has made me feel actual fear. It looks like the moon is bearing down on you, about to crush you.

Aww hugging uncle

Oh I bet you the gun is gone

Oh I'm cackling! Not the obviously photoshopped knife! What would be the point of don't that? I guess if you were going to ambush them but how would the people who left the knife know if they were coming back? Oh this show. (Affectionate)

So pretty much right after I wrote that wrote section about the moon, my power shut off. It's 3am. I think the power is out in my whole town. Everything is so dark. I might be a little more scared than I normally would be now that I'm thinking about the moon crashing into the earth. So thanks Till the World Ends for giving me an irrational fear.

Literally just had the fear of death put in me by a show and then the world goes dark.

Episode 9 will have to wait I guess.

[you-have-made-a-fatal-error]

heyyyyy finally got around to transcribing Kitt and Kyler’s entire confrontation/conversation from HAU here it is. below a cut bc it’s a little long

Kit: Those are just some sketches I made because I was bored. I do that all the time. I’m not after your property

Kyler: Then what are you after?

Kit: Nothing!

Kyler: Then why are you trying to tell me there’s not going to be a wedding?!

Kit: Because Matt is gone.

Kyler: Matt would never walk out on me! Never!

Kit: He still loves you, Kyler. But he’s not ready to get married and he just didn’t know how to tell you!

Kyler: Oh, so he told you to tell me? Or was his leaving your idea? What’d you tell him, Kit? That I still have feelings for you? That it isn’t over between us? Because it is! You know that, don’t you? It is most definitely over.

(this is where the in-game subtitles end)

Kit: All I’m doing here is trying to get you to face the facts! I mean what is with you? You can’t really believe he was whisked away by faeries. And you know as well as I do that Matt has pulled a lot of extreme stunts but never anything like this. He left of his own free will. That’s the only way his disappearance makes sense and you know it.

Kyler: I’m not sure what I know anymore. Coming to Ireland, living in this castle, preparing to be married, it all seems so dream-like. I’m not sure at all what’s real and what isn’t anymore

Kit: You’re under a lot of stress, and I wish I could be more help. Instead here I am bludgeoning you with the truth. I’m just trying to be your friend, believe it or not

Kyler: I know. And I’m glad you’re here, believe it or not. You’ve always been good at skipping the niceties and going straight to the punchline, haven’t you.

Kit: Just one of my many not so admirable qualities. And I wouldn’t exactly call it a punchline, not in this case. But I swear, it may not look like it, or feel like it, but I’m trying to do you a favour.

Kyler: With friends like you who needs enemies. Isn’t that how the saying goes?

Kit: Matt has a pretty warped idea of marriage you know. I don’t know if you ever met his parents but theirs was definitely not your boring, run-of-the-mill relationship.

Kyler: I know that, Kit. And I do wish you’d stop being so negative about everything. I really don’t need that right now.

Kit: Okay, okay, I’m sorry, I’m really sorry. I’ll only say nice, positive things from now on okay? I can do that. I’m not very good at it but I can do it.

Kyler: It’s just so hard to ignore the fact that practically every day since we’ve met Matt has played some kind of trick on me. He says I’m too uptight and that I ask for it.

Kit: Do you think you’re too uptight?

Kyler: No. Well. Yes maybe a little.

Kit: I think Matt’s the one who’s uptight. He’s just projecting. I mean look how much energy the guy has!

Kyler: Huh. I never thought if it that way. You could be right. It would be nice to blame him instead of myself all the time.

Kit: Did Matt ever tell you about the girl he dated just before you?

Kyler: No he tried to once but I wouldn’t let him. Why would I want to hear about some other girl? Sometimes I wonder about the two of you.

Kit: I wasn’t saying he should tell you, I just wondered if he had. You don’t have to worry, he didn’t like her that much. She was nowhere as classy as you.

Kyler: Of course not. We both know that’s impossible now don’t we. It’s nice being out here without being assailed by the telly or the radio or any of Matt’s high-tech gizmos that have to be charged every 20 seconds.

Kit: Fat chance of that around here. There’s like, what, one-and-a-half electrical outlets per room?

Kyler: If that! Matt was fit to be tied when he couldn’t plug in his toothbrush. He said if he’d known the place was going to be this primitive he would have brought a generator.

Kit: The man does love his toothbrush

Kyler: Oh, tell me something I don’t know.

Kit: You know? I could be totally wrong about why Matt left. Maybe it wasn’t the wedding or that weirdo caretaker or you or me. You know what I think it was?

Kyler: What?

Kit: The food. He’s always saying they eat far too many vegetables in Ireland. And when you think about it we have eaten a lot of vegetables since we’ve been here.

Kyler: You obviously haven’t seen what’s inside his backpack.

Kit: Why? What’s in it?

Kyler: Three dozen Koko Kringle bars, and I am not exaggerating. At least that’s what he started with. He’s probably down to half that by now.

[cheeriecherry]

Can I request bakugo, kirishima and shoji with a reader who has adhd? It's totally fine if u can't, but I love seeing hcs about stims and stuff,, thank u :) !

//raises hand// u mean me <:3c I have adhd so prepare for a lot of uhhhhh habits that I have-

BAKUGOU KATSUKI

-This guy knows fuckall about ADHD lbr

-He’s the guy who can sit down and study and stay focused, who keeps a regular sleep schedule, who sits still in class (for the most part). Sure, he’s shouty, but he’s not got a clue about what you deal with.

-Before he really gets to know you, he thinks you’re a pain in the ass ngl. Like, why can’t you study, it’s not that hard? What do you mean you didn’t go to bed until 3am because falling asleep is ‘boring’? Sorry when was the last time you showered - what do you mean you thought you already did it?!

-It’s probably frustrating to deal with his remarks. Like, he’s judging you for something that’s out of your control.

-It’s best to just lay it out flat for him; call him out for being an asshole. Not only because he’s just being rude, but because he’s being rude about things that are out of your hands.

-He’ll feel guilty about it, but he won’t say anything. Which kind of sucks, because an apology would be nice but...be patient with him also, he’s still learning.

-He would probably take it upon himself to learn what the heck adhd even is, and how it affects people. And what kinds of things you can do to help with it!

-He’d be quieter around you after that, and more lenient. He’d still help you study, but he’d be less gung-ho about shoving your face in a book. Sometimes he’ll read the paragraphs to you while you follow along or make notes, and he’ll help you make summary pages that are organised and colour coded for easy access.

-He finds a neat little fidget toy online and orders one for you, it’s like. A little cube with buttons and switches and little rolly things on each side, very good for when you’re in class and your leg is bouncing and you’re twirling your pen around while staring at the ceiling.

-He definitely can relate to the emotional side of adhd tho. Feeling Everything or Nothing, not really being able to control or get a handle on intense emotions, having outbursts sometimes. He doesn’t really know how to help you with that, because he is, in fact, a loud boi. It’s probably pretty common that you’ll yell something and he’ll yell back, but it devolves into a basic conversation at a high volume.

-Once he gets to know you and starts dating you, he’ll think your mannerisms are cute. The way you sway back and forth while you’re standing, the little wiggly thing you do with your hands when you’re excited for something.

-He also really likes watching you train, and training with you. Your brain goes fast and the rest of you follows, so it’s pretty common for you to lay waste to your opponents. When you don’t doubt yourself, your instinct shines through and you’re incredibly clever.

-It carries over to conversations sometimes, where you’ll always have some quick remark to smack somebody with when they talk shit.

-He’s seen the downsides of adhd, but he also sees the kind of pros it can have, and he sees how hard you work to get things done in spite of it. He thinks you’re pretty cool.

KIRISHIMA EIJIROU

-He also doesn’t know what adhd, not really.

-He’s heard of it, but only the stereotypes. The ‘can’t sit still, always talking, not very smart’ stereotypes. So he probably sees your behaviours and doesn’t connect the dots.

-He notices you staring out the window a lot in class, and not really giving much to group conversation. Plus you sometimes need people to repeat things, two or three or four times, before it clicks with you. He doesn’t think you’re dumb, not at all (he’s seen your grades and you’re definitely not dumb) but he does wonder what’s up with you.

-He’ll probably ask you one day, after seeing you watching a movie with subtitles on, despite it being in your native language. Just be honest with him and tell him that yeah, you have adhd.

-He’ll probably be the guy to say ‘but you dont act like you have adhd’ because all he has to go off of are stereotypes. It’s important to set him straight. Tell him what it’s really like, the good parts, the bad parts, the ugly parts.

-The ‘not being able to tidy anything up because the stars aren’t in alignment’ parts. The ‘everything looks horribly disorganized but you know where everything is’ parts. The ‘I haven’t brushed my teeth in three days because I lost track of time’ parts.

-He already thought pretty good of your before, but now that he knows you really have to fight to be where you are, he’s in awe. You’re such a strong person, which he really admires.

-If you do something that’s ‘weird’ he’ll ask you to explain it. He’s honestly just curious, and wants to learn more about you and what drives you, so don’t be offended by it.

-But he’ll definitely like the fidget toys you have, particularly the squishy or stretch ones. And he finds that your study tricks really help him in terms of paying attention, and he’s able to absorb the material better. You guys always make sure to create study sheets together that are laid out well and easy to access.

-He also really like the energy you have during training, and often seeks you out to partner up. Whereas sitting in a classroom isn’t your strong suit, being out on the field and moving around is. You’re got a quick wit and a smart brain, and when you’re using your body at the same time, it’s easier to keep track of your thoughts and put them into action.

-10/10 loves the shit out of you and lowkey brags to everyone about how good his S/O is.

SHOJI MEZO

-The quietest and most understanding of the bunch.

-He -like the others- probably also doesn’t know much about adhd, but he’s far more relaxed about it when you tell him. He’s kind of just like ‘oh, okay’ and it doesn’t change his opinion of you.

-But when he sees how it really affects you, that’s when he starts to think differently. 

-He’s not a bad student in terms of grades. he’s pretty mediocre, both in hero training and classes, and he’s okay with it. But he sees how much you bust your ass just to be where you are, and he’s certainly not envious.

-When you tell him what other kinds of fun things you have to deal with, he probably feels a little bad for you at first. He’s already self conscious about himself, so if he had to go through the things you do, his self esteem would probably be pretty low.

-but he really respects that you’re owning your adhd, and working with it instead of trying to ignore it and make it go away. 

-Plus, with cons come pros, and you have so many of them. It can be hard to get into things sometimes, but once you do? He’s seen the way you get when you hyperfocus, and the amount you can achieve when you’re in that state. He’s learned not to bother you until you’re done whatever you’re doing when you’re focused, knowing that once you lose it, it’s gone and you’ll never get it back.

-And the way you enthuse about your interests is adorable. he admire you passion and knowledge about certain subjects, and the lengths you’re willing to go to in order to learn about them.

-He doesn’t usually like being your partner during training, mostly because you kick his ass using sped and intelligence alone. Plus your stamina and unwillingness to stay knocked down is...something. Something real good.

-He definitely sees the appeal of fidget toys. After he tries yours, he’ll probably get one for himself, and keep it in his off hand while he’s working. I mean, six arms, y’know? That’s like four more arms to not be busy with when he’s working, and four more arms of sensory input. Having something to fiddle with actually helps his concentration too.

-Speaking of sensory input, this guy gives the best hugs when you’re overstimulated by something. A good squeeze calms down the sympathetic nervous system, and he’s hands down the best at hugs. He holds you tightly and blocks out whatever light and noise that he can, until you’ve calmed down and are more equipped to deal with things.

-You two mesh pretty well together, and there’s a lot he can learn from you. He respects you and cares about you!

[peeterparkr]

perennial;tom holland|eleven.

chapter eleven: snapdragons & sunflowers (Vol. 1) 

↳ flower meaning: snapdragons: deception. sunflowers: unconditional love.

chapter summary: to ask for a kiss. 

pairing: tom holland x y/n

warnings: fluff, angst, comedy, all in one, mentions or allusion to sex but not smut :), you’ll see, alcohol. 

You’ll hate me. 

word count: 11.2K

SOCIAL MEDIA BEFORE THE CHAPTER:

masterlist & profiles  

ten (Instagram): in which they share set pictures

ten (tweets & texts:in which the groupchats are…loud

previous chapter next chapter   perennial masterlist.

perfidy  ( series masterlist)

wanna be tagged?

So, please help me out I think tags aren’t working. So yes, hope you enjoy this :)

Y/N was made of the people she loved or once loved. Everyone is, really, but y/n probably made sure it showed.

 Like her habit for photography had come from her very own best friend, of the way she started watching cooking videos because of her other best friend and always read the ingredients on any of the food she ate. Her clothing style had come from her very own first boyfriend who had introduced her to the magnificent world of the 80’s.

Her love for 80’s movies had come from Louis introducing her every night to a different one, a new story, a new song, and honestly it was good he showed her to it, y/n found her one true love. Louis, really, had shown y/n a lot of things, like how to lie to see him at indecent hours, and how  And how Louis taught her that love doesn’t have to last and that sometimes people aren’t what we expect.  

How she loved pancakes because that’s what her mother used to make them every Sunday, and how she’d learned from her father that sometimes sitting outside in the grass on a sunny day could bring back happiness to us. 

How her grandma had taught her how to have a perfect poker face, and how her grandfather had shown her how to peel an orange in a ��correct way’. 

 How she had started to drink her tea with lemon and honey because James had once given her one like that and it brought nice memories. And how James had told her that it’s okay to love, even when people tell you not to, you have to fight for your love, you shall never be afraid of who you love. And James teaching her that she should love for herself, for her own, and not having to share her feelings if she didn’t want to. 

How y/n had started to watch subtitled films because Timmy had shown her some hidden gems. Or how she had learned from Tim to enjoy little moments, like the sunrise if she ever had to wake up early, or how she opened the windows to listen to the rain splattering. Tim had taught her too much about life, like enjoying wasting time. 

Y/N was made, the most, of the people she loved the most. Like how she made pasta the way James had taught her to once when their parents had gone out and James was left in charge. 

Or how when she was sad she’d watch that movie her childhood friend had introduced her to, and how they didn’t talk now. How y/n had learned that music was a way of healing because of that same friend. 

Or how to make a story sound great with Harry, and how Harry had shown her songs that probably were her favorite ones. How Harry and her knew that they didn’t like tequila because of that one time, and how they had learned that mixing cranberry, and grape juice and vodka tasted great thanks to Sam’s idea. 

The way that Emma had taught her to use certain hair products, and how Emma had taught her that sometimes we have to sing out our feelings, and scream and shout. How Emma had taught her the importance of a friendship and having someone’s shoulder to cry on. That she didn’t have to be lonely. 

How when she kissed she usually liked to place her hands behind their neck because she’d done that on her very first kiss with Tom, or how she usually ate some of the chocolate chips when she baked cookies because Tom and her used to do that. She had learned how to wrestle from a very young age and beat Tom, and she had learned how to play with his hair in a way to make him smile. She had learned the meaning of a rose, when all her life she had never understood about it, Tom had shown her how to approach a dog, and Tom had taught her how to cuff her jeans in a cool way. Or the habit she’d picked from him of undressing the beer bottle when they were talking or how he opened it with the table. How Tom had taught her how to kiss, from their very first one to the last one, different kisses each time, how he’d taught her each and every kiss is a journey, a mystery. How she’d learned how to deal with heartbreaks and to fall in love all over again. And how she had learned that he’d come back to her. But really, how a heartbreak feels when it’s real. 

That’s who y/n was. All the beautiful things of the people she loved. 

But she was also the bad ones, unfortunately, because people shape us. Y/N was also made of the ugly parts, very ugly parts. 

One that stood out the most, she’d learned from Tom, from James, from her family, was to avoid talking. 

Everybody wanted to talk, everybody except y/n. She knew she was being immature, but she’d learned that from everyone around her, not to care if you don’t have to. But she was too overwhelmed, everyone had something to say about, except her. How could she talk if she didn’t know what she wanted? 

Tom, Harry, Emma, Tim, James, Sam, Cherry, Aunt Eliza, even Josh and Clark.  

Everybody wanted to talk. She didn’t. 

She had caught on to what Tom was doing. She'd go along with it, he was the only one she wanted to talk to, honestly. 

And Emma, because she knew Emma didn’t judge her, Emma understood y/n, and Emma had been the only one who really didn’t tell her she was wrong. Even if Tim was her best friend, Ema understood that y/n’s heart belonged to Tom. 

“Clark is great, I may have fallen in love with him,” Emma had stated. 

Y/N nodded. “He’s great, I—“

“Why didn’t you know?” Emma asked. 

“I did know. But I didn’t—James was—you know how I’ve only dated three guys?” Y/n asked, she was putting on makeup, she had a date. 

“Yeah.” 

“James is exactly the opposite, he’s dated like half the gay population his age in London,” y/n scrunched her nose, as she was choosing between lipsticks.. “So I just—Never paid attention to any guy he dated because I never thought it was serious.” 

“Are you talking to him now?”

“I did today, only because of Clark,” y/n admitted, giving up on the lipsticks and instead choosing to work on her hair. “James is still angry I am in love.” 

“Not angry at that, you know that,” Emma pointed out. 

“Is it that wrong I am so in love with Tom?” Y/n left the brush on the table as she turned to look at Emma. 

“It’s completely bollocks y/n, but then again,” Emma sighed, “I wish I could be more like you and just love—I mean and I also wish Harry wasn’t so scared okay? He’s just so bloody scared, I wish he’d just say hey, Emma, d’ya fancy to go for a stroll? But no, we are both so… Gosh, I wish we were more like you and Tom, throwing everything down the drain.” 

“We are-” 

“You are, y/n,” Emma rolled her eyes. “He blows your mind and you basically want to yell it to the world, and he gets you all stupid, and you’re happy again, that’s alright, though-” 

Emma was laying down on y/n’s bed, her feet up against the wall, as she was nibbling on a popsicle. 

“Yes, I know, we have to talk,” she sighed. 

“Who says it has to be right now?” Emma had said. “Right now you barely have time to think, and I see you all happy and giggling, and besides, talking doesn’t have to be dramatic.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“It’s just… I don’t get it why James wants it to be dramatic, it’s just hey, you guys love each other, what else is there to know?” 

Y/N nodded, turning back to the lipsticks. 

“You do have to tell him you know about Cherry, though, which-” 

“Yeah, n, no, but I get it,” y/n sighed.

“Which, I love you’re ignoring, just pretending like she doesn’t exist, ” Emma laughed. “She just arrived yesterday, didn’t she?” 

“She did,” Y/N sighed. “Ugh, I don’t want to see her and she wants to talk, what does she want to talk about? We’ve never cared about each other before, met her like three times growing up because my mum and hers didn’t get along, which by the way, I’m scared James and I are headed in that same direction.” 

“You won’t,” Emma said. “James loves you too much to ever leave you.” 

“You never know,” y/n said. “Besides that’s not my point, my point is why does she want to talk? We have nothing in common!” 

“Dunno, you’re blood related and you both rode the same dick, seems like you’ve got a lot in common.” 

Y/n closed her eyes as she forced a laugh, “Emma!” 

“I’m just saying, y/n, that’s why you and I became close, we’ve both kissed the same two guys.”

“It’s different,” Y/N scoffed. “I—just don’t want to see her okay? Because I know I’ll be reminded of every single insecurity I have,” she admitted. “Because I know that the moment I see her I’ll get just so anxious, you know? She’s so pretty, and she’s so perfect and from what-” 

“From what I’ve gathered from Eliza, she’s also a mess,” Emma added. 

“That’s an issue, that’s Tom’s type, just look at me,” y/n laughed as she stared at a bright red lipstick. 

Emma scoffed. “Oh, hadn’t thought about that, Tom’s into messy girls with your genes.” 

“It’s so fucked up, though,” y/n said, as she looked up at the wall, she needed to change the flowers, they were drying out. She hadn’t changed them in a while. 

Emma shrugged, “considering how small his brain is, he probably thought it would feel the same way if he closed his eyes.” 

“As if it would,” y/n replied cockily, finally choosing a light pink, changing it up a bit, she’d always used bright red lipsticks with Tom,  “I’ve known him his whole life, and now I’ve—“she cleared her throat. “ I know exactly how to work him up.” 

Emma let out a loud and long laugh. “I can tell, Jesus, what did you do to him to have him oh, so mesmerized? Are you a sex goddess or why are those two men so bloody entranced by you?”

Y/N blushed and shook her head laughing. “You’re an idiot.” 

“How do you really feel?” Emma wondered, getting the conversation back as serious as it was supposed to be. 

“I don’t know,” Y/N admitted, she was still on some pair of pjs. “I… I’ve been talking with Tom, or…” She rolled her eyes. “He’s found a way to talk, and I think it’s worked out for both of us.” 

“Oh, what is it?” Emma sighed. 

Y/n walked over to her closet, it felt so weird to choose something to wear, Tom had warned her to be casual, something her style, something very her. 

“We use the script so we can… I guess we’re projecting it all, and well, I think he’s been understanding about it, and I think I’m starting to understand his point of view, about Tim at least.” 

“Please, I don’t need to listen to him to know why he feels that way,” Emma pointed out. 

“Really?” Y/n turned back to Emma as she was choosing between them. 

“I like the red one,” Emma suggested. “But please, y/n,” Emma scoffed. “Timmy was the one who stole his chance, Timmy was the one who got the girl when he had fucked up and everyone around Tom said it, we’ve all said it at some point, Tim is perfect for you.” 

“But—“

“and besides, Timmy was the one-” 

“The one who opened the door when Tom came to apologize,” y/n finished Emma’s sentence as she sat down hugging the red dress Emma had suggested. 

Emma frowned. “What?” 

“Guess Timmy had secrets, too,” y/n said.

Emma seemed confused. 

“He never told me about it, how Tom had come a second time, and…” She sighed. “I mean I guess I’m thankful he didn’t but I’m… I’m only wondering—“

“Oh, back when you first started dating,” Emma recalled. “He did tell me about it, and I.. was the one to advise him not to  tell you.” 

Y/N gulped. 

“Would you have run back to Tom?” Emma wondered, embarrassed. “Honestly I told him not to because—Well, I had asked Harry about it, you know? Harry had said you hated each other and that you had been avoiding Tom for a while now. That you were enemies.” 

“We were.” 

“And I mean—Back then, you really hated him.”

Y/n nodded. “Yeah, I did.” 

“So I told Tim not to tell you about it, because I thought—I didn’t know the background but I thought Tom was going to—hurt you, you know? And I guess, we all did, and we all kept that mentality even when he wasn’t trying to.”

“Yeah.” 

“Wow, I’ve never thought about that,” Emma nodded. “Even when I knew you were dating back in New York, we were just waiting for it, for Tom to—“

“Yeah, for Tom to pull a Tom,” y/n ended the sentence. “And I mean—He kind of did, but it was my fault.” 

“Tom really sabotages himself, it seems.” 

Y/N reached out to hug her frog, she was thankful James had brought it, “he does, but because he’s expected to, you know? Maybe that’s why— I haven’t brought it up because I’m not—I’m not expecting the heartbreak this time, and I know bringing up the whole Cherry thing is looking for it,” y/n explained. “I trust him this time, and he really wants to make it work out.” 

“Would you have gone back to him? Had Tim told you he had showed up?” Emma questioned. 

Y/N breathed in heavily. “Dunno,” she said. “I was so heartbroken back then, I thought— and I had promised myself back then I would never fall back for him, and… I mean, I had even thought I would never love again because that’s how dramatic it was, I really didn’t want to see him, that heartbreak is what led to all this mess, you know?” She explained. “Now Tom knows that, I think he really understands it, and he feels guilty and I mean, I was angry when Tom told me about it, because… Tim, well he didn’t know back then, he just was too sure that Tom loved me but—After learning all of this? Tim should’ve told me, because just now, learning it, I guess it changed a lot of things, not that it erased anything, but I lived all this time thinking he hadn’t… He really hadn’t cared, and it took him a lot of time, still, but he had tried to apologize again, and Tim keeping it to himself knowing that what broke me the most was that Tom had never shown up? Tim keeping it to himself is just—so selfish.” 

Emma bit her lip. “He’s still in love with you.” 

Y/N remained quiet. 

“I mean, you can’t blame him,” Emma said. “You guys were… I mean before Tom, you really seemed to be hitting it off, I thought you’d end up dating again.” 

“I did, too, at some point,” y/n admitted. “But-” 

“But you love Tom, I know,” Emma shrugged. “No but… Y/N you also, have to acknowledge it, you can’t keep playing with Tim which-before you say anything, I mean it’s also on him, he knew it, but then again, I… I believed it at some point y/n, that you were going to get back together with him because… The way you looked at him just… and it was just—” 

“I know, I know and I thought… I don’t know, okay?” y/n admitted as she sat up. “I… It’s cause I never… I had closure with Tim, alright? I gave him the ring back because I thought, I know it, I want Tom, okay? It’s Tom, yes, it’s Tom.”

“But?” 

Y/n sighed, “Timmy—alright as I said before, I had said I would never love again after the whole Rome thing,” she cleared up. “And then Tim came along and just showed me this beautiful life and taught me how to love again, and I—He became a very special part of me.” 

“Yeah, and? That doesn’t explain your flirting.” 

“I didn’t—flirt.” 

“Well you answered to his flirting,” Emma pointed out. 

“We were—“

“You guys were flirting y/n!” Emma replied quickly, slightly stressed. “You guys don’t flirt like everyone else! Your flirting style with each other was by showing each other songs and him watering your plants, y/n! You were basically having sex with each other,” Emma rolled her eyes. 

Y/N stayed quiet. 

“But I know, Tom, Tom—“

Y/n gulped. “Yeah, Tom.” 

Emma watched y/n, confused. “Why are you acting like it’s the last time?” 

“What?” 

“Like it’s your last chance with Tom.” 

“I...don’t know, because what if it is, you know? It’s… stupid, we’ve had plenty of chances and… Last time, I just… Had I known it would lead to that. I know it’s my fault, and like we’ve both blown it up so it’s—“

“Neither one of you will fuck up.” 

“I know—But Tom… We are trying and I’m happy but I feel-” 

“Y/N you are pretending, I know, you won’t be happy until you talk about it with him.” 

She sighed. “I know, and we’ve been talking and I…” She coughed. “I really want to try it out.” 

“But…?”

“Am I allowed to forgive something like that? Am I even allowed to get angry about Cherry?”

Emma sat up as well. “Y/N, had he slept with anyone else I wouldn’t be so sure but that’s your cousin, that’s fucked up and-” 

“What if he finds out about Tim?” 

Y/N grabbed the pillow that had once been under her head and proceeded to get it in her face and scream into it. 

“Wait, I’m… I’m gonna try that,” Emma laughed, doing the same. 

Both of them were screaming into the pillows, pitying their sorrows and problems. 

Timmy had walked in. 

“What the hell?” He asked. 

Emma was the only one to peak her head out of it. “It’s therapeutic.” 

Timothee had only chuckled. “I bet.” 

Y/N had stopped screaming but kept the pillow over her face. She didn’t know how she felt about Tim, there was no point in being angry at something from the past, but it did change a lot of the way she saw him, maybe he had forgotten. But Tim was never one to forget, he was observant and he was quiet, and he was all about the stories. 

“Um, y/n?” Tim said. 

Emma watched Tim, and the small object he had in his hand. She shot him a warning glare, scared of the inside. 

“Yeah?” y/n answered from her pillow which now had a nice stain of makeup on it. 

“Can I talk to you?” He asked. 

Another person wanting to talk, what was it with everybody wanting to say words and listening and whatever? Y/N thought to herself. 

Though Timmy hadn’t asked for it yet, she knew it, but he hadn’t really said it, not the whole y/n we should talk. 

She wanted to say no, but she knew that she couldn’t keep doing that. Counting the days until it finally had to blow up, and then end up with bruises, no, she didn’t have to do that. 

She finally let the pillow down, “Yeah, sure,” she said before walking out of her room. 

“Sure, leave Emma behind,” Emma pointed out. 

“I… well,” Y/N looked at Tim. 

“It’ll be quick, darling, Emma dear,” Tim assured her. 

Emma rolled her eyes. “It never is with you both.” 

Tim rolled his eyes before leading the way outside of the apartment, y/n frowned, asking him to wait up so she could put on her sneakers, still wearing her pj’s. 

“So your birthday is tomorrow,” Tim had said as they had walked out, he had sat on the stairs. 

She chuckled as she sat beside him. “Yeah.” 

“You look really pretty,” Tim had said. 

“These pj’s really accentuate my features huh,” y/n joked. 

“Your makeup looks pretty and hair, idiot,” Tim chuckled. 

She only gave him a sad smile. 

“So, what are your plans?” He asked. 

“For… tonight? I’ve got a date,” she explained.

“No, tomorrow.” 

She shrugged. “Tom’s got some plans, apparently, he hasn’t told me anything about it, honestly I don’t… I don’t want to…” 

“What?” 

“Do anything you know? I will be too tired after filming, and I… I just feel like… Dunno, James and Clark will be there and I don’t want to talk to James still, and apparently Cherry invited herself, too so… And you’ll be there, and Harry and Emma… and Josh, and I just... ” She chuckled. “I’ve got a bad feeling.” 

“Why?” 

“Dunno, seems like a perfect combination for disaster.” 

“I met Cherry today,” he admitted. “Well, we’d met before but-Yeah, I thought you’d be at the flower shop. “And she was there, instead.” 

Y/N scrunched her nose. “Yeah I know she’s there, that’s why I haven’t gone there,” she explained chuckling shyly. 

“Why?” 

“Because then I’ll start feeling insignificant, because let’s face it and don’t you dare say no, but she’s really… Pretty, like she’s everything a girl would want to be and I’m jealous of her,” she admitted, truthfully. “I’ve never been the jealous kind but with her, I feel like—Of course anyone would choose her over me, and don’t—Say anything okay? I just feel that way. And if I see her I’ll be reminded of the elephant in the room waiting to be addressed, and I… If the conversation about you went wrong I don’t want to know how that-” 

“About me?” 

“Yeah,” she looked down. “Dunno.” 

Tim bit his lip. 

“How did he-?” 

“I don’t want to talk about that, Tim,” she quickly answered. “I can’t blame him for feeling the way he feels and that’s on me, too, I mean… I… really.” 

“What?” 

She looked down. “I— well, I don’t…know alright? If I feel anxious about Cherry I can only imagine how he feels about you, no, I can’t even imagine it, and look Tim, I—you know you’re very important to me but I’m… I’m dating… Or whatever is going on now, but It’s Tom right now, alright? And I know it’ll be for a long time.” 

“I know.” 

She looked at him, confused by his statement because it really didn’t feel like he knew it.. “And I don’t… want you to think there is an open door or-” 

“Y/N, I know,” he said. “Yeah, I know it’s Tom, now.” 

“But it’s not just—“

“I know,” Tim looked away. “I know.” 

She looked down. “I’m sorry.” 

“Just….” He took a deep breath. “I know it’s him, but that doesn’t… I mean, we’ve been friends, and I—I just ask you not to push me away, alright? I don’t know how I’d live without y/n in my world, and if having you around means having you with him, then I just have to deal with it, move on you know? And I know we are friends, so this is… This comes from your friend, Timmy.” 

She smiled, just slightly, very timidly. It hurt, hurting him but of course, keeping him around meant jeopardizing her relationship with Tom, and she really didn’t want to give it more excuses. 

“Timmy,” she sighed. 

He smiled. “I’m serious, it’s alright, no… no resentment, alright? We both know we… I don’t…you know it, I’ll always love you, but we—I mean you—you love someone else and it’s be stupid of me not letting you love him, that is just pathetically selfish. And don’t get me wrong, it hurts like a bitch…. Yeah, I know it, but… I don’t want to lose you, I am not stupid… but I also… I know that if I give this to you tomorrow, Tom will lose it and I… don’t want that, so I’m giving you this, today.” 

He pulled out a film canister. And it felt like one of those times when life likes to punch you with reality. She felt a fear deep inside her stomach. Last time he’d given her one of those an engagement ring was hidden in it. 

“It’s… It’s not what you think,” Tim rolled his eyes. “Oh, you really thought I’d propose again?” 

She let out a soft chuckle. “No--I… I mean,” I’m-I didn’t think you would-” 

“Your face,” He chuckled softly. “Yeah, no, I… I’m…” 

“Yeah, just last time you gave me one of those-” 

“Yeah, and look where it led us, I’m not… I wouldn’t… No,” Timmy laughed. “No, it’s not… and—do you really think I’m the type of guy to propose on a bad time—-Actually don’t answer that,” he chuckled. “Okay, open it.” 

She grinned, and took the film canister from him. “Man I hope it’s an iPad,” she joked, warning a laugh from Tim. “No, you—you shouldn’t have.” 

She shook it just slightly, listening to no sound coming out from it, before finally opening, carefully. “A…there’s nothing?” She asked. 

“Yeah,” Tim laughed. “I know.” 

She frowned, confused but then chuckled. “I love it… I hope I… can get to wear it soon,” she joked. 

“It couldn’t fit there, but I—Well, you know, we had that tradition, ,” he said before finally giving her the box that sat beside him. 

She took the box and smiled, opening it, an old vintage Polaroid camera stood there. 

“I know you’ve—I think it works, it’s—It’s an original, I've noticed you haven't really taken any Polaroids, and I know you love them,” he coughed. “So, yeah, happy birthday.” 

Y/N had only looked up, giving him a true smile. 

“Thank you, I love it!” 

But of course, the timing could not have gone any worse. Tom had arrived. Y/N had momentarily  forgotten she had agreed to spend the night with him, nothing too serious but Tom had insisted because he had a surprise for early in the morning and he’d come pick her up for dinner and then she’d stay with him. 

Maybe she should’ve seen the trouble coming. 

Tom cleared his throat loudly, “hello,” he said, standing with sunflowers. Yellow flowers with pretty meaning, y/n thought. 

Y/n looked up, calmly, knowing that if he saw any hint of her freaking out it would blow it up because his mind would go places.

“Oh hi!” She grinned. “sorry—I’m not—“

Tom clenched his jaw at Tim, but then turned to y/n and chuckled, “Darling,  when I said casual—I didn’t—“

She chuckled nervously standing up. “Sorry, I—“she squeezed her eyes shut. “I was discussing with Tim something about some pictures he’s planning on—yeah,” she lied, as she hid the film canister and box behind her back. 

“Yeah,” Tim said, clearing his throat, standing up as well. “Hello, Thomas.” 

“Tim.” Tom was nervous already, y/n could tell. 

“Are those for me?” Y/n questioned staring at the flowers  before they could say another word to each other. 

Tom chuckled between his teeth, “yeah, they’re most certainly not for Tim.” 

“Oh,” Tim said, “and here I was getting excited about them.” 

Tom faked a very quiet laugh and then turned to y/n. “So? Don’t get me wrong, you literally look so beautiful—but—“ He smiled looking down at her clothing. 

“Yeah—right!” She excused herself, not forgetting to kiss his cheek, before running back to her room, where Emma was waiting with the red dress and had pulled out some heels for her. 

Emma  walked out of the room, “hello, Tom, long time no see,” she said with sarcasm. 

“I know, these couple hours have been long,” Tom joked back, as he had walked in. 

Tim had followed after. It felt so tense, Emma could swear she could cut the tension with a knife. 

Emma hummed a fake laugh. “There are flower vases over there, you can guess which ones are y/n’s now if you’ll excuse me, I’m gonna steal Tim from you just a bit, I hope you don’t miss him as much.”

Emma had dragged Tim to her own room. 

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Emma snapped. 

“A lot of things,” Tim answered. “But let’s not go there, please.” 

“Oh don’t play that with me, I know exactly what you’re doing, and Tim—“

“I’m not—“

“Don’t fucking pull the whole I’m not doing anything bullshit with me,” she rolled her eyes. “I know exactly what you’re doing, and I’m sure you gave her the Polaroid today, really? Exactly when you know she’ll go on a date with Tom? And you take her to the stairs? So he can see it right?

Tim clenched his jaw. “I—Well.” 

“Sabotaging her relationship is not the way to go, Tim,” Emma warned him. “And I—I just told you—Best thing you could try is...move on, alright? I know you love her and that she was—She seemed perfect for you, and I still think you guys worked so well together but… She is so in love with him, and by doing this you’re only hurting her more—Besides, really Tim, you know her better than this,” she pushed. “I—“ Emma sighed. “I'm telling you this because I love you, I don’t want to sound harsh but—“She closed her eyes. “I know she is confused, and making her even more confused won’t help you, let her settle it, let her have it right now.” 

Tim didn’t say anything and just walked out of the room. He had gone to his room and unfortunately had left his door open to see y/n walking out on a red dress to run over excitedly to Tom, who had pulled her close to him to kiss her cheek and smell her perfume. 

Timmy knew Emma was right, y/n was in love with him. So, very deeply in love. And it hurt, seeing her. And Timmy asked for more patience, or for more time, or strength to move on. 

It felt weird, Tim felt lonely and broken hearted, and he just missed her, and it was stupidly incredible that she lived right there in the same apartment. He knew she loved Tom, that was it but it…. It still didn’t make any sense. Honestly, it felt like they were completely strangers. 

Especially y/n, she really felt like a stranger, even to Tom it seemed. She seemed too… distant to everyone.

Tom felt it, too. He felt that y/n was just off, even if she was happy or tried to be and even if she was kissing his cheek, she was being… different. And Tom only wanted to get over with it, the awkwardness. 

And he wondered if she wanted to get over with it, too. 

They went out for dinner, not in the place where she’d imagine Tom would take her, it was a nice dinner place with lightbulbs hanging around, a flower in a glass bottle, candles around, very… cozy, and romantic, and they were talking about barely anything, and maybe for a bit it felt like they were each other again. 

Y/N knew this, she felt weird with herself, as if even when she seemed to be saying what she wanted to say, she really wasn’t saying what her heart wanted, but as if her own heart was keeping secrets. It felt like Tom didn’t know her, though. And it had never felt that way before, but it felt like they were both trying to get to know each other again. Because neither of them were being themselves, not entirely. 

“So, you were clearly not talking about pictures with Tim,” Tom had mentioned. 

y/n looked at him and nodded. “Yeah, I wasn’t….”

“So?” Tom seemed anxious about it. 

“He gave me a birthday present, a…he gave me a polaroid,” she cleared up. “A vintage, original one.” 

“Oh, that’s cool,” Tom nodded, and gulped. “As long as he doesn’t give you a ring.” 

She rolled her eyes. “Tom.” 

Tom shrugged. 

“I… told him,” she cleared her throat. “That well… it’s you.” 

“It’s me?” Tom wondered, and a smile came to his face. “What am I?” 

She rolled her eyes, chuckling softly. “An idiot, that’s what you are.” 

Tom chuckled. “Uh-huh, I am, and what else?” 

She blushed. “Nothing.” 

Tom hadn’t pushed it any further. Their conversation kept flowing. Talking about them. What made them so… them. 

“I remember that everyone was in love with this one guy, ugh, what’s his name? The one that bullied you,” Y/N tried to recall. 

“Edward,” Tom remembered. “He was so big.” 

“Well, everyone had a crush except me, because well, I was the idiot, you know?” 

“You loved that scrawny guy who-” 

“Adorable guy,” she added. 

“Scrawny guy,” he continued. “Who did ballet and everyone crushed on Edward, who-” 

“I actually was… dating Louis back then,” she recalled. “But…” She chuckled. “But my point is… I was the one who… hid a rat in his car.” 

“No way!” Tom’s eyes popped as he leaned over. “You’re kidding.” 

“I… Look, nobody could be an asshole to you unless it was me, that was-” She was nervous. “I was so angry at everything he said at you, I…” She rolled her eyes. “And I… genuinely don’t know.” 

“Where in this bloody world did you get a rat from?” He wondered. “I mean thank you but I didn’t think you’d-” 

“Please I had experience from pranks for you so of course…” She gulped, hiding a laugh. “I...Well, there was a rat in Louis' house, and well they trapped it and instead of… you know killing it I… well told Louis to break into Ed’s car and I hid the rat there.” 

Tom was shocked. “And that was because of me?” 

“No, I hated Ed,” she looked away. “He was the biggest asshole.” 

Tom grinned. “Are you sure? Because I remember that rat incident being right after he had hit me in the hall.” 

“Really?” y/n coughed. “I wouldn’t remember,” she blushed looking away. 

“Which actually brought attention to me, they said it had been me!” He recalled. “I got into detention.”

Y/N grinned. “Yeah, killed two birds in one shot,” she smirked. 

“I’m serious did you-?” 

“Yeah, maybe I did it for you, okay? Whatever, yes, I had feelings for you and I was angry someone else was taking away my job, let’s remember we were enemies back then, alright?” She was nervous. 

Tom smirked. “You had a crush on me.” 

“Shut up,” she chuckled. “You had a crush on me, too.” 

Tom shrugged, smiling. “Yeah, I did. I’m not trying to hide it.

Y/N avoided his gaze, not believing he was actually making her feel butterflies, even after all this time, she was still nervous. In a good way. She wasn’t always nervous, most of the time, she didn’t, she felt so calm around him, but on the edge, as if she didn’t need to worry about being herself but expectant of each other’s attitude. 

Tom watched her, “Why do I always feel like there’s always something on your mind?” 

“Because there is,” she laughed. “Don’t you?” 

“No, I’m dumb, remember? I can actually blank up my mind,” he smirked. “Or well, not at all. There is a constant on my mind,” he had reached for her hand. 

“Oh?” her eyes had brightened up, a timid smile on her face. 

“Yeah, Spiderman,” he joked, earning a glare from y/n. 

It was so stupid. But they were… back being them. Probably because they were alone. As if someone was brushing y/n’s dream, and she couldn’t get enough of him, his laugh was her everything. She couldn’t help but sigh and run out of breath, and never stop blushing, there was no doubt about it. And she had once thought about it, ‘the day that Tom loves me, the world will party’. She had been wrong, the world wasn’t partying, and there were no flowers blooming and no fireworks. The world instead, stopped, as if it was them and only them. The stars were probably jealous of them seeing them shining even more brightly than them. 

“You know, from the moment we met,” he had said. 

“When we were kids, you mean?” She chuckled . 

“Truly met,” Tom gulped. “Rome, I mean.” 

She blinked. “Yeah.” 

“I… Why didn’t you kiss me?” He asked. 

“Hm? When?” 

“That one night, you know the one, lovely evening, I remember I asked for a kiss,” he recalled. “And… you said and I quote: ‘No, Thomas, don’t ask for a kiss’.” 

She looked away, remembering. “Because I didn’t want you to ask for it.” 

He frowned. 

“It’s silly but that’s the way I am, I didn’t want you to ask for it, I was clearly begging for one,” she explained. “I wanted you to… do it. One should never ask for a kiss, or not… verbally.” 

“How so?”

“I mean certain contexts,” y/n said. “But that night? I thought I had hinted it enough 

“So you did want me to kiss you,” He grinned. 

“Of course!” She beamed. “I—it’s not secret by now that I—“she cleared her throat. “Well, enjoy when our lips come together.” 

“Oh, so you enjoy that?” He mocked. 

“Very much so,” she answered shyly. “And—it had been the perfect evening! It would’ve cost you nothing,” she smiled. 

“Cost me nothing,” he laughed. 

“I think you’ll find that kissing me is quite cheap,” she pointed out.

He scrunched his nose. “That’s a lie.” 

“No, no, I was the one who could lose there,” she sighed.

 “No, y/n. Because kissing you costs a lifetime.” 

She scoffed. “How so?” 

“I kissed you once when I was 13 and never stopped thinking about it,” he said. “And after that evening.” 

“Would I have been so bad?” She questioned, “if we had realized it back then.”

“Think we did,” he said, “but you didn’t kiss me either.” 

“No, but—because you had asked for it.” 

“You’re right… I should’ve, but there’s a lot of things I should’ve done...still can’t believe it, how stupid I was,” he said. 

“It didn’t click you know,” she nodded. “When you broke my heart,” she continued. “I mean, the excuses you gave me… They didn’t make any sense.” 

Tom looked down. 

“And…” She sighed. 

“Would you’ve forgiven me? If I had come earlier?” He asked. 

She stared at him. “Maybe,” she admitted. “Probably, if I’m honest… I did wait for you to come again with yellow flowers, and I’d have my hand right in my heart, and I would wait for you to come and apologize and I would see it, you know, wait for you to stand up in the rain and said you didn’t mean it, and I… I was angry, alright? It was stupid letting my life pass by waiting for it besides the whole scenario...but then again, it wa shot and it’s still you and I’m—it’s silly.” 

“It’s not silly,” Tom said. “It’s you,” he took a deep breath, “and I knew you’d like that… kind of stuff, but when I finally realized it, it was too late.” 

“But it’s not late now,” she admitted. “We’re finally on time. And I’m glad I’ve always been so stubborn when it comes to you because otherwise we wouldn’t be here.” 

The evening had continued to flow, as both of them had become quieter, in a way that they didn’t need to talk to communicate, between whispers and giggles and hand brushing, it was all they needed. 

The ticking had stopped, y/n had noticed. It’d come, she knew but… God, when she was with him, she didn’t have to worry about anything. Because it seemed that it was made for them, all her doubts disappeared because he was the answer she needed. It was them against the world. 

They hadn’t talked about Valerie and William, not that night. It was Tom and y/n,.

They hadn’t kissed. Tom had ceased the kissing when James had arrived, which y/n hated, she missed his lips so much her own were begging for them. She wouldn’t ask for it. Never ask for a kiss, not out loud. 

She was wearing his jacket back on their way, he had said: ‘I wasn’t cold but I knew you’d be so that’s why I brought it’. Her hand was on his hair as he drove, listening to music, windows down as they hummed the lyrics, and as y/n stared down at the lights the city was giving her, her hair flying. 

She was sad, though, Tom hadn’t even tried to lean over and kiss her, not even seeing a hint of him trying to do so. 

They had walked in, the guys seemed to be all too invested in a video game, all except for Clark who was rather interested in playing with James’ hair as y/n’s brother yelled at the screen. He looked up when seeing them walk in, he smiled at the sight of y/n’s shoulders being covered by Tom’s jacket. 

“Hello, you two,” Clark had greeted them. 

Tom peeked to see the screen, not letting go of y/n’s hand. 

“Hi,” y/n said, knowing she’d most likely lose Tom’s attention to the screen. 

“How did it go?” Clark asked.

“Bloody hell, Samuel!” James yelled. 

“Piss off,” Harry yelled, too. 

y/n chuckled. “It went well,” she said. 

“Well?” Tom lost focus of the screen, as he turned to her. “Well?” 

She ignored him and kept staring at Clark. “Can you believe the evening has gone by so splendidly but he still hasn’t kissed me?” 

Tom immediately blushed. 

“Good,” said James. “Kissing is gross.” 

“Is it?” Clark asked before kissing his cheek. 

James coughed. “Straight kissing is gross,” he corrected himself. 

Harry laughed. 

Sam scrunched his nose. “Why haven’t you kissed her? you usually bloody eat each other’s faces.” 

Harry scoffed. 

“Don’t you dare eat my sister’s face,” James warned. “Or anything for that matter.” 

“James,” y/n closed her eyes. 

Tom laughed. “We’re gonna…” 

“No, why don’t you guys stay? We were about to play Mario Kart” Offered James. “So why don’t you both play with all of us, you know you can sit over there with your brother and y/n can sit over here, everyone’s happy.” 

“Jamey, love, don’t be a dick,” warned Clark. 

Y/N chuckled. “Fine, I want to play,” she admitted. 

“Great, mario kart is the real deal breaker between couples.” 

Of course, they hadn’t followed James’ instruction for their sitting arrangement, y/n had sat on the couch, and Tom had sat on the floor, resting his back against her. Y/N was still bothered by the fact she hadn’t yet been kissed that night, but she soon forgot it as it felt like one of those nights when they were younger, all of them playing and yelling at each other. 

Tom had left the room without any explanation at some point, but she was too busy trying to beat her brother at rainbow road to even notice. 

Time went by, and before she knew it, the lights had gone off, and they all had turned with a smirk as Tom had walked in with a cake with candles. 

‘Happy Birthday’ they all sang as she stared at the cake, pretty cake, sunflowers again. Tom kissing her cheek. 

It felt… like years ago, the Holland’s, James, and now Clark, too, of course it was Tom holding the cake now, not Harry, and now she didn’t have a wish, usually she’d plan ahead her birthday wishes, because that’s something James had taught her to. Instead, she wished for everything to keep flowing as easy as it could with Tom. Funny, how many birthday wishes had not involved him already. 

They had sat and ate cake like old times, y/n smearing some frosting to Tom’s cheek and then kissing it off, making the boy blush and getting James to glare at her. Laughing at each other, telling old jokes as y/n was laying against Tom, his arms around her and his lips brushing against her head. 

How many years had they not wasted by being enemies. 

Eventually, they had all gone to bed knowing the next day would expect them, except for Clark and James who had stayed in the kitchen. 

Tom and y/n had stayed on the couch. 

“So, I’m gonna be honest,” Tom had said as he had sat with her, he had left yet again to get something 

She only stared into his eyes, begging her with her sight to kiss her already. She should’ve probably wished for that, instead. 

“I—this wasn’t going to be your birthday present.” 

“You didn’t need to get me anything,” she said. 

He had sat up and pulled out a small box, he seemed nervous, but excited. The box… gave her shivers. But it couldn’t be. 

Y/n only smiled watching him, resenting her head against her palm. 

“I—back when,” he gulped, “back when I was still in London debating whether or not to direct dos-a-dos,” he continued. “I—well.” 

“Yeah?” 

“I couldn’t stop thinking about you because—Well,” he grinned. “I am so stupidly in love with you.” 

She only blushed. 

“So—one day,” he gulped. “I went—Well, you know, to the mall and whatsoever, and—I saw this shop.” 

“Right.” 

“And so I bought a pair of boots for me,” he said, leaning against the couch, trying to recall. “They were very—nice, you know?” 

“Uh—huh,” she rolled her eyes. “And did you bring those boots to LA?”

“No, I didn’t,” he side eyed her, “should’ve, you would have loved them.” 

Y/n rolled her eyes giggling. “I bet.” 

“But anyway, after I bought the boots—I passed by that shop you like.” 

Y/n blinked. “Care to be more specific?” 

“The one with the vinyls, and vintage stuff,” he reminded her, but she looked down at the tiny box he was holding, it definitely wasn’t anything from that shop. 

“Oh, yeah, love that place,” she smiled. 

“Yeah, and I—went in,” he admitted. “And I couldn’t stop thinking about you, everything they had… so I—“

She just waited for him to continue. 

“I bought a fee vinyls for me, too,” he nodded seriously.

 Y/n bit her lip, holding back a laugh, “amazing, which ones did you buy?” 

“I bought a Beatles one… uh, Queen.” 

“Great choices,” she grinned. “I’m proud.” 

“And of course Rolling Stones, because I thought of you,” he said. 

Y/n scooted closer to him to gently run her hands through his hair, he couldn’t hide his smile. 

“And then—One day, I went out again,” he grinned. 

“Hm-hm?” 

He coughed, “yeah, and I walked again to that one other shop you like, the one with the clothes.” 

“With the clothes,” she laughed. 

“Yeah, you know the one,” he chuckled, avoiding her gaze. 

“And did you get in?” She asked. 

“No,” he grinned. “I went for an ice cream, you know, I was really craving one.” 

She stared at him, so mesmerized by him, even when he was being the silliest. “God, I love you,” she blurted out, without really thinking of it. That’s how it should be, realy. Nothing wrong with that. 

He finally locked his eyes with her and smiled, he took her hand in his and kissed it. “Yeah, so—“he grinned, “none of that has to do with your birthday present.” 

Y/n chuckled. “Really? I thought the birthday present would be seeing you with those boots and dancing with you to the music on those vinyls and eating ice cream.” 

“Ah, that would’ve been great huh,” he grinned staring into her eyes. 

“Would’ve loved that.”

“I actually did bring the vinyls,” he admitted. 

She kissed his temple. “Great, let’s play them—“

“Yeah, but—I haven’t finished,” he admitted. “I… Well, I've had a lot of time, you know? To reflect on—on the script, on us. But especially the script.” 

Y/n stared at the features on his face, fixating on the freckles on his nose as he kept talking. 

“So, I kept avoiding the script, even if I wanted to direct it because—Well, it was your dream, I remember and I think I’ll never forget how in Rome you told me your biggest dream was making a film of a ballerina,” he said. “I—well, and I wanted to read it, but I couldn’t because I thought—well, dunno, having something yet to read was something I still had to look forward to, you know? And so I kept listening to the vinyls because they reminded me of you, and I kept—trying to find you everywhere, alright?” He confessed. “On every single face and—The days just went by and I—eventually read it.” 

Y/n silently watched him. 

“And I fell in love with it, because—it’s you. The script is so—you, it was like reading an open book about you, and I don’t mean it in the way that it’s our story, like I genuinely—you really poured heart and soul in it, the songs you put in, the setting—and, well, it was really you, you know? I know you’ve always loved 80’s movies because they seem so ridiculous but so magical.“

Y/n chuckled nervously. “Where are you going with this?”

“I know it’s your biggest dream,” he sentenced. “And well—I’m sorry I didn’t get you a pair of boots like mine.” 

She laughed rolling her eyes. 

“And I didn’t get a vinyl.” 

“Tommy,” she nudged him. 

He only handed it to her, the small box. A very stupid and scary suspicion in her head had completely been erased as she picked the small box.

As she opened it, it revealed a necklace with a small pendant of a ballerina hanging from it. The brightest beam had appeared on y/n’s face. 

“I know you’ve—never liked the idea of someone giving you jewelry, especially bracelets or necklace because they don’t hold any meaning, but—I think—I know you’re not a dancer but, I think Valerie is your own special project, and—“Tom grinned. “I was saving it to give it to you on the premier but—“

“I love it, I...No, really this… This is perfect,” she whispered looking at it. Tom had once taught her that roses weren’t always basic. And Tom had now proven to her that this didn’t have to be either, because it was them, and it held such a special meaning to her. 

She leaned over to kiss his cheek, and he only smiled. 

“I was gonna give you a T—“

“As in Troy?” She mocked. 

“That’s exactly why I didn’t.”

She laughed. “I love it.” 

He looked deep into her eyes and she just waited for it… But he didn’t kiss her. 

“Yeah, so, let’s go to sleep,” he quickly stood up, letting her fall flat on the couch. 

“Thomas,” she hissed playfully. He had already left, and she could feel his smirk from afar, so she followed after him. 

“So, you can have my bed, I’m gonna leave to sleep on the couch because that was my agreement with James,” he explained, picking up his stuff as soon as she got to the room. 

She frowned. “No?” 

“Yes,” he replied cockily. 

“I’m not letting you leave until you bloody kiss me,” she replied. 

He paused and then turned with a proud smug smirk, “Then that gives me even more reasons not to kiss you.” 

She opened her mouth to complain, but really she was in such a state of shock that not a single word came out. 

“Goodnight love,” he grinned as he headed to the door. 

“Why are you like this?” She rolled her eyes, giggling. 

Tom took a deep breath before staring her down. 

“For the love of god, kiss me.” 

“No.” 

“Why not?” 

“One shall never ask for a kiss,” he replied smugly. 

“Are you kidding me?” She closed her eyes, not believing it. 

“No, you said it yourself,” he grinned. “Not verbally.” 

“Just shut up and come here, idiot,” she laughed before pulling him close to her, finally placing her lips on him. It felt like just the very first time, Tom and her had that magic, of making each and every kiss feel like they’ve never kissed before, so unique and so perfectly synchronized with each other. 

“Don’t you guys fucking dare to do anything,” James was just walking by with a glass of water. “People need to sleep.” 

Clark had mouthed an apology before following after. 

Y/n had pulled away and then smirked. “Want to prank him?” 

Tom had only given her a weird face. 

Y/N knew James was staying right on the next room, and that she definitely was not going to be able to do anything without him hearing, that of course, meant she could piss him off, to get back at him for being a dick. 

Y/N explained her idea to Tom, and he immediately accepted, with the sole condition to leave the door open so his life could actually be spared. 

Both Tom and y/n had settled in their places, sitting right on top of the bed, right against the headboard which was conveniently against James’ wall. 

And so they started.

Both of them repeatedly, and in perfect sync started, Tom hitting his elbows against the headboard, making sure the noise it made was perfectly identifiable as something else as y/n was jumping on the bed. 

A faint “no, no, no, no, fucking hell, no,”  had been yelled from the other room. 

Tom and y/n tried to hide in their laughter, but proceeded to make it even worse, adding dramatic moans and “oh yes!” “Y/n!” “Right there!” “Tommy!” In between. 

“NO FUCKING WAY!” Now it had been louder. 

“Jamey, love—“ 

Tom and y/n smirked and went in even louder, “yes!” “So tight!” “Harder!” “Yes, yes, yes, yes!” 

“No! No! No! No! Bloody hell y/n I’m in the bloody next room!” James yelled. “I’m gonna kill you, Thomas!” 

And then they heard the loud and quick stumping as James’ door was open as he ran to knock on y/n’s and Tom’s door, but instead, the door was wide open and he could see what actually was happening, Tom and y/n, fully clothed and not even an inch close. 

That’s when both y/n and Tom lost it, bursting into laughter. 

“YOU GUYS FUCKING SUCK!” James yelled at them before joining in their laughter, red from embarrassment. 

Clark had followed right after, laughing with them. “So that—“

Y/n couldn’t stop her laughter, even tears had come down her cheek as she stared at her brother so embarrassed, watching them. 

“I can’t believe you fell for that!” Y/N had laughed. 

Clark couldn’t stop giggling either. 

“And by the way, thanks Clark,” Tom laughed, “you’re a real one.” 

“I fucking hate you all,” James rolled his eyes. 

“Now let’s go for the real one,” Tom had joked, probably with a death wish, but he quickly regretted it, “no, no, no, I’m joking! I’m joking!” 

“You bet your ass you’re joking,” James warned before laughing again, defeated, “I hate you both.” 

He had left with Clark laughing behind him, leaving y/n and Tom still laughing at their prank. 

Laughing and laughing until they ran out of breath and laughed again. 

“Shit, I love you so much,” Tom had said with one last breath after laughing. 

“I love you, too,” she had said, “that was the best fake sex I’ve had in my life.” 

“Hm, I’m pretty sure I’ve given you the best non fake one, too,” he had said cockily. 

“Non fake,” she scoffed. 

But then they’ve gone back to laughing, eventually somehow it transformed into kissing, and they had spent the night kissing, and giggling and nothing more, probably because they were aware that it was a very risky situation having James right beside and honestly, they were decent but mostly because they didn’t need more. Just the two of them laying down, and merging their lips together, becoming one with the other, was all they needed. 

The next day was rather perfect, filming had gone as smoothly as it could go, and though they kept their distance because they were professionals, y/n could tell there was something different about her and Tom. Not sure what but it felt like things could work out. A ray of hope, if one must say. 

There had been more cake, more people congratulating her for her birthday and just—Flowers. Sunflowers here and there, Along with blue hydrangeas. Pretty combination. Tom had made sure to fill up the place. She did love the sunflowers. Her mother calling her, auntie Eliza sending her pink carnations, it was—good. Especially after they told everyone about their prank, that made it even better. 

“You do have that fake sex aftermath glow,” Emma had joked. 

Perfect day, a perfect day until the sun was yawning down, she had put on her best clothes, and she was nervous. Not sure why though.

Tom had invited the cast as well. Nothing could go wrong, and it definitely wasn’t going to, right? Y/N had thought maybe it was a good day after all. 

The place had been packed and the first song playing had been Ironic by Alanis Morissette, James had been the first one to point it out, he really liked that song. And though the combination of friends seemed like the perfect recipe for disaster, y/n thought it had gone calmly. At least at the beginning. 

The club seemed to be picked out of y/n’s dreams, an 80’s and 70’s paradise playing the songs she loved to sing along to. There was a karaoke, too, in the background, separate from the dance floor. Honestly, the place was perfect. Fun. 

And y/n had ignored Cherry’s presence as long as she could, she hadn’t been rude, but of course she’d been avoiding her, because the moment she saw her, y/n did feel insecure. She had shown up with a tight dress that gave nothing to the imagination, and her hair perfectly falling down her shoulders, her whole body shimmered. She was beautiful, beyond compare, perfect. 

“Y/N!” She had greeted her. “I’m so glad I see you, I love your dress, hun, happy birthday!” 

Her high pitched tone had only made y/n even more insecure. And y/n had seen her dancing, she’d caught Josh’s attention, it had seemed. Even Asa’s and Gregg’s attention. Because of course she would, the girl was perfect. 

“Is Tim your boyfriend?” Cherry had asked y/n. 

“What?” Y/N didn’t know if she’d heard right. “No… No, he’s not.” 

“Oh, I thought he was!” 

“Happy birthday!” Someone had yelled as they popped off a bottle. 

Y/N could take care of Cherry later, who was actually picking out mostly everyone’s attention. 

“Who is she?” Josh had asked her. “If it weren’t for Emma, I’d say she’s the prettiest girl in the world.” 

There was a lot to unpack from Josh’ statement. 

“That’s my cousin,” she explained. “She’s single, so why don’t you give it a go?” Y/N had suggested, knowing perfectly that if he did, she’d take away another problem. Because she’d seen Harry anxious the moment Josh had showed up.  

Y/N didn’t know why she felt like Harry did know about Josh, she wasn’t sure but the same face Harry was giving Josh was the face Y/N gave to Cherry. 

Initially, she had seen Cherry approach Tom, she had whispered  something in his ear, and he had only gulped before walking off to one of his brothers. It made y/n anxious. 

“You know what? You should go and sing Jolene,” Emma suggested, y/n could tell that Emma probably was slightly dizzy, as she had dragged her, Clark and Auli’i to the dance floor, a...very strange combination. Y/N was just a bit bothered by this, since she wanted to be with Tom, or rather, she wanted to pull him away from where Cherry was. 

“Jolene?” Auli’i laughed. Felt rather weird for y/n hanging out with celebrities. Tom didn’t count… Not in that way, at least. 

“Yes, Jolene,” Emma said. “I’m begging you please don’t take my man!” 

“Your man?” Auli’i had asked. “As in Tom?” 

Y/N chuckled. “Uh...Well….er.” 

“Please, you’re dating, right?” She laughed. 

Y/N didn’t answer. 

“Please, it’s kind of obvious,” Auli’i explained. “You guys have tried to be subtle but we all know it.” 

Well, there goes their attempt at trying to be professional. It didn’t matter, honestly. But it did bother her knowing that Cherry was the only girl in there, but thankfully, her own brother had kept Cherry occupied, thank god.  

Y/N was also bothered by the fact Tom wasn’t by her side,  just slightly bothered. She guessed, however, that he was having fun with his brothers. She wondered where Timmy was, because all she could see was the guys, and Cherry, at the table getting their asses drunk. 

Especially Timmy. 

Emma had dragged them back to the place, y/n had  tried to get close to Tom, who had also tried to pull her close to him, but somehow she had been dragged away again. It was annoying, and the night kept going like that. She hadn’t had one single minute with Tom, and it was bothering her. Tom, too, it seemed. 

Tom was very bothered by the fact that y/n kept being pulled by her friends, not that they were doing it to specifically bother him, but it was… annoying. Also, having Cherry around, was not a perfect situation, especially because she was insisting on talking to him. What in this world was she trying to do? 

He didn’t want to deal with that, he only wanted to have fun. Besides, a club with loud music was definitely not the place to talk. Not on his… girlfriend’s? Birthday celebration. 

The night was getting blurry, to him, to everyone. Half past twelve, it was getting darker, and the drinks had come and gone, drink after drink.  Everyone seemed to be having a very good time, and he wasn’t sure but the lights on the club had probably lowered, flashes green and yellow were blinding him. The group was constantly divided, and he had had only a small chance to dance with y/n. The music was buzzing too loud, as he escaped through the crowds, trying to find y/n, and he saw her, dancing with everyone and then, Timmy had dragged her close to him, she didn’t even notice as she danced and sang along to the… 70’s, yeah 70’s song playing. Tom feared it, because it’s not difficult to know when someone wants to kiss the person you’re in love with. Tim was drunk, Tom knew this, and the look in his eyes was saying everything. And though he didn’t see that look on y/n, he feared it. 

Tom quickly had pulled her by the hand and finally wrapped his arms around her so they could dance. 

Tim had only rolled his eyes but kept dancing with Emma. 

“Hi!” y/n had cheered as soon as she saw Tom. 

“Hey!” 

“Where have you been?” She asked, leaning to his ear.  

“Here and there,” he admitted, she only giggled to lean over to kiss him. 

Everything was going too quickly, the lights and music were not helping. They had barely danced before Emma had dragged y/n. 

“I’m sorry, Tom, but it’s y/n’s and I turn to go to the karaoke!” Emma had said before getting her away. 

“You were getting too comfortable,” Tom had barked at Tim. 

“Pff,” Tim had scoffed. “You’re scared it’ll happen again?” 

“What?” Tom frowned. “I’m-- she’s with me.” 

“Yet she slept with me just before you arrived,” Tim had blurted. 

Tom had felt the music getting louder, and louder, just as Tim had left and Tom was sunk into the dancing crowd. 

He didn’t have to believe him… right? 

In the state of shock, he only tried to follow after where Emma and y/n were heading.The karaoke music was playing, Emma had chosen ‘Gimme, Gimme, Gimme (A Man after midnight!)’ for her and y/n to sing, and they had started, happily singing as she was so unaware of what Tom was feeling right now. Not sure if it was anger, disappointment, jealousy, or all at once. 

The group had followed after them, too, as they were expectant to see the birthday girl, first receiving a very flattering shot of… Tom thought it was probably vodka as soon as she got to the stage. Emma and her sang and yelled, and the group danced and danced. Emma being such a crowd pleaser, yelling and making them cheer. 

Tom couldn't. 

Is there a man out there? Someone to hear my prayers…

There was no sight of Tim, that was alright, he guessed. But then it… Tom’s mind went to every single time he’d seen her around Tim. It was so fucking obvious, of course they had slept together, and y/n probably still had feelings for him. 

Tom was the only one who wasn’t dancing. 

Emma had jumped off the stage to land on Josh, and then without even thinking about it, she had kissed him, right in front of Harry. 

Sam and Clark had joined y/n on the stage, everyone was just too bloody drunk, and the song seemed to be never ending. Or maybe Tom hadn’t noticed when it had changed, it sounded like another ABBA song. And it was… ‘Voulez-Vous’. Now it was Y/N, Sam and Clark. 

Tom didn’t even realize when Cherry was around him, and it probably was the alcohol working out but he danced with her. Not sure why. 

Y/N saw it, right from the stage, but luckily Clark had been kind enough to dance with her as someone else had hopped to the stage to sing with them, now that y/n was definitely not able to sing. 

And just as the song was ending, and as the next group of girls had popped on the stage,  she saw it, perfectly happening, Cherry’s lips were on Tom’s. 

previous chapter next chapter   perennial masterlist.

perfidy  ( series masterlist)

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[whatisgoingonpaul]

So I rewatched with subtitles to see anything I missed and really watched the background it did not disappoint! There’s actually some great moments and lines that got hidden as they aren’t completely audible, I recommend watching with subtitles at least once however it messes up song lyrics mainly during lost in the shadows. “Sail alone though the night.” Took me out. Yes that’s the lyrics xfinity... totally. So here’s the notes or new things or general ramblings.

-The boys when flying will have high pitched bat noises or the usual “woo -hoo”

-“any jobs around here” “nothing legal.”

-Micheal tucks his shirts

-Star bringing this small ass child to a concert but laddie also dancing his ass off

-Micheal was almost Moonbeam and I think we shouldn’t keep ignoring this.

- Dwayne saying “we’re going for a ride” to Laddie.

-the Subtitles correcting “say hello to the night” to “sail alone though the night”

-When the boys rush to get Micheal from full on fighting David there is the beautiful jangle of jewelry

- the random surfboards the boys have

-Paul jumping off of the rock with Laddie “get the rock box bud.”

“Yea!”

-ive now noticed The pigeon was on Markos arm- he’s tamed a pigeon. I’m.

-the damn male model on Sams closet door?

-Paul and Dwayne eating with their fucking hands and laughing, their eyes roll back with their head. How are they not choking.

-The munsters poster behind star.

“Pretty sad.”

Things the subtitles caught but I didn’t:

- “Nice worms” (maybe Marko?)

- “That’s enough “ (they mimic star”

- “Chill out girl.” (???? One of them.)

- David whispering “get him the wine.”

-David eating noodles and drinking in a attempted suductive manner. Like my

Mans-

- it still looks like red coolaid.

- Star and laddie back away like Micheal is going to fucking explode or something?? He’s just probably high if anything

-“give me a ride Marko.” (Context: David is in the wheelchair)

-“your one of us bud” - Paul

-“let the good times roll” - Paul or Marko

- Paul whipping his jacket around, markos jacket is also loose... revealing it is not just a crop top but tanked- near sleeveless I’m screaming

- in Micheals hallucination fest it focuses on star and David. This boy has it bad...

- markos little “ye-ahh” on the bridge.

- “Bombs away.” Also Dwaynes fucking finger guns. His little finger guns my soul...

- Marko and Paul messing with each other’s legs constantly, also “yayyyy Micheal.”

- “HOw do you like it ehh?!”

- The train starts coming and Paul immediately starts to bang his head like it’s the best damn music he’s heard in his life

- The entire train scene Micheal is just yelling “JESUS CHRIST!” repeatedly lmao

- “Let GO”

- “BITCH DO WHAT?”

- I mentioned this the last time but the damn stuffed dog

- Micheal going for the milk in the fridge when there’s a full coke on the kitchen table.

- Sam literally saying “he’s flying outside the house” in the phone call

- laddie is 11.... not quite little star.

- There is a baileys bottle with a candle.

- The brothers tucking their napkins into their shirts. Adorable.

- Paul drumming on his leg

- Dwayne gets the bouncies while watching from the tree

- I like how Marko makes it a point to say “hi Micheal.” Like every time he sees him.

- I like how they all decide to pose dramatically infront of Micheal after feeding.

- Edgar changing his band from red to blue for✨ dramatics ✨

- The smell the undead or teenagers?

- As Marko is Writhing on the cavern floor you can just make out Paul’s arms trying to stop him or comfort him or something and I’m not ok -

- I’m also pretty sure is blood is maple syrup.

- “It’s not our fault they pulled a mind scramble on us! They opened their eyes and talked!” Lmao best

- “It was screaming, it was fizzing it was horrible.”

- The dive toy next to the bathtub

- Sure star. It’s you and laddie they want sure.

- Marko’s pigeon is alone.

- Does no one notice the whole thing of flying out of the cave in reverse?

- Does laddie even know what’s going on or he just go off what star tells him

- “You killed Marko!”

- “Yea and your next”

- *push* no your next!

- Paul’s fucking skeleton? Also he’s deadass “if I go out I’m taking your plumbing with me-“

- Even when it’s David alone it still sounds like a swarm of bats instead of one

- Laddie looks like a baby monkey I’m sorry but he does

- David: *Screams*

- Micheal: *voicecracks louder*

- I still can’t tell if they want the bat screeching to be a noise the boys make or apart of background music. As when they go over Maxes place(twice.) it is implied to come from them but when Micheal and David fight it’s in the background unagknowlaged

- David screams help as he is impaled, little does he know the others are already gone...

- Ok so maybe I went a little hard on max, as he does show concern and upset when looking at David, and could likely see the bits of Dwayne on the ground. His voice seams to shake slightly just as he speaks and his eyes are a bit glacey when he takes off his glances. However o do still like it better with the little bit from the script where it’s played up more.

- The scream when max is talking, I think it’s one of the boys OW.

- *twang* I haven’t changed my mind about dat.

- OK BUT THE FACT THE FROG BROTHERS HAD GOGGLES LIKE THEY EXPECTED THE EXPLOSION.

- I like that this implies that grandpa put the big stuff up in the yard purely to ram it though inro his house. He wants that ensurance money

Take a jacketless Paul:

[route22ny]

If water is the lifeblood of planet Earth, the American southwest is in big trouble.

John Wesley Powell, the one-armed US army civil war veteran who led the first white expedition down the Colorado River through the Grand Canyon – a daring boat run in 1869 – later became an ethnographer who wrote a prescient 1878 government paper titled: Report on the Lands of the Arid Regions of the United States. In it, he unflinchingly described the scarcity of water, and summarized that much of the American southwest, if it must be settled, should be settled lightly and modestly. Overpopulate it, and it will be unforgiving.

Wallace Stegner, the dean of western writers, observed, “As a government scientist, Major Powell was now defying ignorance. He was taking on vested interests and the vested prejudices by which they maintained themselves.”

In short, Powell was a sage.

Nobody listened to him.

Decades later, the US Bureau of Reclamation oversaw the construction of two massive arch-gravity concrete dams on the river: Hoover Dam in the 1930s that impounded Lake Mead; and Glen Canyon Dam in the 1960s, that impounded Lake Powell. Some people called them “engineering marvels”. Others said the dams defiled the Michelangelo of American rivers.

They changed everything. Phoenix and Las Vegas grew as if water came from the Big Rock Candy Mountain, where the bluebird sings to the lemonade springs and every day is pay day. Just flip the switch; turn on the tap. Or maybe they grew like invasive weeds, sprouting swimming pools, golf courses and lawns – a greedy developer’s dream. Farmers greened the desert. Cattle grazed the valleys. High voltage lines lit up casinos, stadiums and homes, keeping them warm in winter, cool in summer. It felt almost providential, ordained by God.

Today, the Colorado River provides water for 40 million people in seven states, but stricken by a devastating drought, it’s not what it used to be. Lake Mead and Lake Powell are both at about 30% capacity, down more than 140 feet from “full pool”. If the lakes go much lower, the dams will be unable to generate power. The snow pack in the Rocky Mountains – that feeds the 25 tributaries of the once mighty Colorado – is low yet again. And climate models say the entire region is going to get hotter and drier. More arid, less livable. The lakes reside in picturesque red rock country, but now sit surrounded by what looks like bleached bathtub rings as they evaporate in triple-digit summertime temperatures.

Welcome to the worst drought in an estimated 1,200 years.

“It isn’t sneaking up on us,” says John Entsminger, the general manager of the Las Vegas Water District and Southern Nevada Water Authority. “Since 2002, our population has increased close to 50%, about 750,000 people in the last 19 years or so, and over that same time our aggregated depletions from the Colorado River have gone down 235.” He asks, “Is this a drought, or is it just the way the hydrology of the Colorado River is going to be?”

Probably both.

After 11,700 years of relative stability, what geologists call the Holocene epoch, Earth has entered – or rather, human beings have created – a new epoch, the Anthropocene, brought about by our burning of fossil fuels and loading the atmosphere with the greenhouse gases carbon dioxide and methane.

Utah’s Governor Spencer Cox has asked his constituents to pray for rain, as if that’s leadership. Neither is in the forecast.

Civilizations blunder into self-destruction because they ignore the signals all around them, and refuse to change

When the Bureau of Reclamation planned and designed the dams, they were warned that their data sets were too small; that the desert has moods, that rivers fluctuate, water comes and goes, and the bones of previous civilizations are everywhere.

Some 700 years ago the Anasazi people disappeared from the Colorado Plateau. In his book, Collapse, the geographer Jared Diamond says multiple factors were involved, “but they all go back to the fundamental problem that the US Southwest is a fragile and marginal environment for agriculture – as is also much of the world today”. Civilizations blunder into self-destruction because they ignore the signals all around them, and refuse to change. The subtitle of Diamond’s book says it all: “How Societies Choose to Fail or Succeed.”

How then to succeed? The Kentucky poet-essayist-novelist Wendell Berry, who is also a farmer, says, “We have lived our lives by the assumption that what was good for us would be good for the world. We have been wrong. We must change our lives so that it will be possible to live by the contrary assumption, that what is good for the world will be good for us. And that requires that we make the effort to know the world and learn what is good for it.”

If the biodiversity is dying, if the humpback chub, southwestern willow flycatcher and desert tortoise are threatened or endangered, and if nothing changes, then they, like the Anasazi, will disappear. And modern cities will be next. Imagine Phoenix at 130F. It’s coming.

To survive will take a tremendous amount of cooperation, innovation and sacrifice. A true test of American character. In her book, A Paradise Built in Hell, the author-essayist and Guardian US columnist Rebecca Solnit documents how people often pull together during crises, from the London Blitz to Hurricane Katrina, and show a great sense of community, purposefulness and even joy. She concludes that in a world of everyday pain, “This is the only paradise that is possible, and it will never exist whole, stable and complete. It is always coming into being in response to trouble and suffering; making paradise is the work that we are meant to do.”

And it must begin now.

***

Kim Heacox is the author of many books, including The Only Kayak, a memoir, and Jimmy Bluefeather, a novel, both winners of the National Outdoor Book Award

[argylemnwrites]

Why Are We Still Waiting? - Chapter 3

Pairing: Drake Walker x MC (Riley Liu)

Book: The Royal Romance (It Couldn’t Wait Another Moment universe)

Word Count: ~4900

Rating: PG-13 (brief language)

Summary: A trip to meet the newest Beaumont isn’t off to the greatest start.

Author’s Note: So, since it has been ages since I updated this story, I feel like a quick recap is in order. Drake and Riley are in Cordonia to meet Savannah and Bertrand’s new baby girl, Caroline. They just met Liam’s new girlfriend, Iris, and her innocent questions about their postponed wedding made it clear that Drake is very frustrated by the fact they aren’t married yet. To catch up/jog your memory fully on this series, you can check out the It Couldn’t Wait Another Moment masterlist (link in bio).

“Oh, for Christ’s sake,” Drake groaned as Riley reached forward to start scanning across the radio stations.

“What?” she asked. He noticed her give a tiny shrug out of the corner of his eye as she leaned back after settling on a Greek Top 40 station.

“I knew it. I swear you pick this one just to annoy me, Liu.” Drake had made the mistake of complaining about this particular station on one of their first trips back to Cordonia, right before she’d gone back to university. It was all over-produced and sugary, and the DJs were just fucking obnoxious. Of course, that last point probably didn’t actually bother Riley, since she couldn’t understand a word they said.

“Maybe I just like this station.” 

Drake glanced over and took in the giant shit-eating grin plastered across her face and just rolled his eyes. “Uh huh, sure. Let’s ignore the fact that this station plays a ton of songs in Greek.”

“I’m just trying to broaden my cultural horizons.”

“Says the woman who refused to watch Parasite because it has subtitles.’”

“If I wanted to read something, I would pick up a book,” she said, but she did lean forward again to flip over to a different station. 

“Thank you,” Drake said, clicking on the turn signal as he switched into the right lane.

“You make it too easy sometimes,” she said, Drake noticing that she shrugged a little out of the corner of his eye. “If you didn’t act like that station was pure torture, I probably wouldn’t enjoy it so much.”

All Drake could do was shake his head. “You know, some people might not be so open about liking something out of spite.”

“No, it’s not spite.” Drake glanced over and raised his eyebrows at that, so Riley elaborated. “Spite is mean-spirited. I know you like my teasing too much for it to be spite.”

“Really.” Drake deadpanned, although he wasn’t able to hold back his grin and fully play along.

“Uh huh. What other explanation is there for you hanging around me after all these years?”

“I can’t think of a single one,” he said, earning him a flick of her fingers against his shoulder.

“Well I guess I will have to keep teasing you then. Otherwise I might have to settle for a guy who would have made me get up before six this morning.”

Drake looked over at her at that. Even after years together, her ability to jump from intensely sarcastic to gently sincere in an instant still amazed him. Last night, Maxwell had called and offered to pick them up from the palace after dropping off Mom and Aunt Leona at the airport, but they had a very early departure time. Drake had turned him down, feeling like it would be a shitty move to force Riley to wake up early on vacation, particularly since she never complained about using her limited vacation days to visit his family. Yet here she was, appreciative of his gesture that cost him nothing.

“Maybe I just didn’t want to spend two hours in the car with Maxwell.”

She let out a laugh at that. “Well, at least I rank as better company in your book.”

“Always, Liu. Always.”

“Seriously though, thank you.”

“Of course.”

Her left hand settled on his shoulder and gave him a little squeeze at that, but she didn’t say anything else, just glanced out the window as Drake turned off the main road and onto the smaller one that led to the Beaumont’s estate. Within a few minutes, they were pulling onto the driveway. As they climbed out of the car, they heard an excited little voice calling from the direction of the estate’s entrance. 

“Uncle Drake!”

Drake closed the driver’s door and pivoted around quickly, crouching down and extending his arms. Bartie ran across the drive and threw his little arms around Drake’s neck, laughing as Drake scooped him up and hugged him tightly. 

“We saw your car diving! I wanted to go out. Say ‘hi’ like Mommy or Daddy. Uncle Maxwell said I had to stay inside. Had to stand still ‘til you stopped,” Bartie rambled off, barely taking time to take a breath. 

“Thought that a little toddler darting in front of the car might not be the best start to your visit,” added Maxwell, strolling over to their car. “Hey, little blossom,” he added as he hugged Riley.

“Oh, you don’t get to just ‘little blossom’ me after you convinced Liam to keep me away!” she chuckled as she gave him a playful shove. “What happened to me being a Beaumont and always welcome here?”

“He told you guys?” Maxwell asked, turning to glance at Drake.

“Of course he did!” Riley said, drawing Maxwell’s attention back to her. She laughed a bit and shook her head before walking around the car to Drake and Bartie. “Hey, Bartie! Wow, you’ve gotten so big!” Drake passed Bartie over to her, watching as she gave him a squeeze, but Bartie started squirming in her arms, clearly wanting to be released from the obligatory hugs.

Riley placed him down, and he turned right back to Drake, grabbing his hand and tugging on it. “Uncle Drake, come see my new playhouse!” he said, attempting to drag Drake along after him as he started moving back towards the estate.

“Hey, my favorite dude, do you remember why Aunt Riley and Uncle Drake are here?” Maxwell said, crouching in front of Bartie. 

Bartie kicked his foot against the driveway before he answered. “Everyone wants to see Caroline. But she’s boring. She doesn’t do anything!”

Drake was trying to figure out the best way to deal with his nephew’s clear jealousy, but Riley stepped forward and bent down next to Maxwell. “I would love to see your playhouse, Bartie.”

“What do you say?” added Maxwell. “Why don’t we show Aunt Riley while Uncle Drake goes to see your mom and dad and sister?”

Bartie was silent for a few moments, but then nodded, grabbing Riley and Maxwell’s hands and heading inside without a glance back. Maxwell chuckled, twisted around, and called out to Drake, “You remember where the nursery is, right?”

Drake nodded and raised a hand in acknowledgment, taking the time to pop the trunk and grab their luggage before venturing inside himself. He went straight upstairs, pausing only to place their bags in their usual room, before heading down the hall, turning to the left and entering the private quarters, making his way to the small room located all the way towards the end of the hallway, the last door on the right.

It seemed like just yesterday he was building a crib in there for Bartie when Savannah was moving in. The room looked much the same, the walls still a pale grey, the furniture all pure white. The layout hadn’t changed much, with the crib placed against the far wall beneath a painting of stars shining over a lake with a squid waving a tentacle in the air, the changing table right next to it, and the dresser next to the rocking chair in the corner. The only thing that looked different, as far as Drake could remember, was the sheet tucked around the crib mattress. Back when this had been Bartie’s room, the sheets were covered in a variety of zoo animals, the only splash of color in the otherwise greyscale nursery. Now, they were a black and white check, much more subdued.

Laying in the center of the crib, wrapped tightly in a light pink blanket, was a sleeping baby. Drake didn’t have a lot of experience with infants, but even he had heard you never wake a sleeping baby, so he stepped further into the room carefully, trying not to make a sound. When he reached the crib, he couldn’t help but stare. This was Caroline. His niece.

He wasn’t sure how long he stood there, just taking her in, but eventually Savannah’s voice caught his attention.

“Didn’t anyone ever tell you it’s a bit creepy to just sneak into someone’s home and watch their child sleep?”

Drake turned his head to look over his shoulder. His sister was standing in the doorway, her arms crossed over her chest, an eyebrow cocked. “Hey, Sav. Maxwell sent me up here.”

“I should have known,” she said, walking over to join him by the crib, wrapping an arm around his waist as she gave him a half-hug. “I see you’ve met Caroline.”

“She’s beautiful,” Drake said, looking down again at the little baby in the crib, a few fine brown hairs covering her head. His niece. She was so tiny. It was kind of overwhelming, seeing her like this. When he’d met Bartie, it had been such a total shock that he even existed. Plus, he had been so much older than this. “Congratulations.”

“You can pick her up, you know.”

He shook his head. “I don’t want to disturb her.”

Savannah let out a few little chuckles. “She is the one who disturbs everyone most of the time. Besides, she’s just about due for a feeding.”

“I don’t know…”

“Come on, Drake. Just go wash your hands, and then you can hold her.”

And so a minute later, Drake found himself being handed his niece, so small and fragile-seeming. “Is this okay?” he asked, trying to make sure he walked the fine line between being gentle and holding her firmly as he tucked her against his chest.

“You aren’t going to hurt her!” Savannah laughed out.

“I just… I’ve never held a baby this little before. I don’t want to mess this up,” Drake said. Caroline felt so light in his arms. She was blinking, slowly becoming more alert after being shifted from her crib. Her bluish-grey eyes finally seemed to lock on his. “Hey, Caroline,” he said, “I’m your Uncle Drake.” But before he could think of anything else to say, she opened her mouth and let out a piercing wail.

Drake glanced over at Savannah. “What do I do?”

She laughed again. “God, what is Riley going to do with you when it’s your kid? She’s a baby, not an alien. She’s either hungry, sleepy, or has a dirty diaper.” But before she could poke fun at him any further, she reached over and shifted Caroline into her arms. “And since she’s hungry, I’m really the only one who can handle that.”

“Oh, do you want privacy or should I…”

Savannah shrugged. “I use a nursing blanket since Barthelemy walked in on me and made things real awkward.” And with that she settled onto the rocking chair, adjusting her top, positioning Caroline, then tugging a little cover over herself.

“What did Barthelemy do?” Drake asked as he moved to the side wall, leaning against it.

“Just acted real weird about the whole thing, talked to Bert about reminding me how a duchess should comport herself.”

“What a jackass.”

Savannah let out a sigh. “Bertrand was very apologetic when he relayed the message. But using a nursing blanket is not a big deal, and if it makes things easier for Bert with his dad…” She trailed off, staring down at Caroline, reaching under the nursing blanket to adjust something before she spoke again. “Having him around here has not exactly been some big happy family. I don’t know if his illness changed him, or if my memories of him were just fuzzy, but he’s an odd duck.”

Drake glanced over to the doorway. “Uhh, Sav. Not that I care, but the door is wide open and-”

She laughed and shook her head. “He’s at his rehab and physical therapy appointment this morning.”

“Ahh, gotcha. Any more talk of him trying to regain the title of duke?” Back when Barthelemy had returned to the estate, Sav had confided that it seemed like he was hinting that Bertrand should renounce his title and return it to his father. But since their wedding, it had seemed like most of that talk had died.

“No, he and Godfrey laid on the pressure after the honeymoon, but as soon as we announced the pregnancy, he backed off. His new mission seems to be to convince Liam that either Bartie or Caroline should be appointed as heir to the throne, which is crazy to think about, but it keeps him busy, so…” Savannah tilted her head to the side and raised her eyebrows, letting the thought just hang there in the room. 

Drake was bothered by the implications of that statement, but he knew that pressing Savannah on it would not really get him anywhere. As inappropriate and concerning as he found the implication that Savannah and Bertrand weren’t shutting Barthelemy down completely with that shit, he knew voicing his objections now would not solve anything. Discussing this all with Liam would make much more sense. So he just filed the statement away and moved to change the subject.

“Is it easier this time around, knowing what you are doing?”

Savannah smiled before glancing down at Caroline. “I think it’s more that I have a support system. And yes, I know it was my choice to not have one before,” she added before Drake could interject. “I guess in some ways at least I know what to expect, but Caroline is way more cranky than Bartie was at this age. Besides, I don’t think any parent ever really feels like they know what they are doing.”

“Nah, you seem to have it down.”

“It’s just a lot of trial and error. You’ll see when you guys have a baby.”

Drake ran his hand across his jaw, glancing down and watching his toes nudge into the baseboard. “I have a feeling that’s gonna be a while for us.”

“Oh come on! Don’t you want your kids to grow up with their cousins?”

Drake swallowed before taking a breath. “Of course I do.”

“Then what are you waiting for?”

“Well, getting married to start.” Shit. “Not that I think people have to be married to raise a kid or-”

“Relax, Drake,” Savannah said, cutting off his apologetic ramble. “It’s not like Bartie was a planned pregnancy.”

“Neither was Caroline,” he thought, but kept his mouth shut, not wanting to risk offending his sister or make her feel like he was judging her and her family. 

“I know you have an old-fashioned streak-”

“Hey!” Drake interjected, but Savannah just kept on going.

“-but I think you guys should think about having kids soon. You were going to be married by now anyway! And isn’t that the modern, New York thing to do?”

Drake didn’t know where all this was coming from. Why she was so insistent about something that didn’t involve her. But man, he wished she would move on to any other topic of conversation. Because what could he say? That he was ready to be married with kids? That he would have no problem starting a family with Riley tomorrow? He couldn’t share that with his sister, at least not without sharing things about Riley he was pretty confident she would never want Savannah to know.

The fact that she had decided on a birth control option that would last for three years made it pretty clear where her head was at with the whole kid thing. She wasn’t really ready, not by a long shot. And until she was ready, there was really nothing he could do about it. Drake was just going to have to wait until she felt like the time was right, whenever that might be.

Maybe it was just that he was four years older than her. Maybe that’s why he felt so ready to take those next steps when she seemed so unbothered, so willing to just roll along. And to be fair, it’s not like they were ever going to be a couple like Hana and Catherine, who had timelines and life plans and five year goals. But deep down, Drake couldn’t help but wonder why Riley seemed so ambivalent about them getting married and starting a family. Was she unsure about something in their relationship, unsure about something with him?

It’s not that she didn’t want kids ever, as far as he knew. She’d mentioned wanting kids before. And they’d planned that first wedding without issue. But now it seemed like she was stuck. No rush to get married. Not thinking about having kids for years. And Drake didn’t know how to approach the whole topic without seeming like he was demanding things. Putting pressure on her. He was happy. They were happy. It was something his younger self would have never thought possible, and it should definitely be enough. But maybe he was selfish, because there were times where it just didn’t feel like enough.

Maybe it would be helpful to talk to someone about this, but that would feel like violating Riley’s trust. He knew Riley had her therapist she talked to, and he was sure their relationship was a topic of conversation there, but that was different. The therapist wasn’t someone who knew Drake, who was his friend or family. Anyone Drake would feel comfortable talking about this with knew Riley. Knew her well, quite frankly. 

So for now, he was just going to have to keep moving forward. Keep hoping that Riley would start to feel ready soon. And at the moment, that meant sidestepping his sister’s questions and prodding.

“Geez, Sav! We haven’t even been here for an hour, and you are laying it on really thick.”

“Sorry, sorry! I know it’s not my business! If it makes you feel better, it’s not just with you. Kiara also told me I needed to back off when I started asking her about when she and Oliver were going to have kids right after their wedding.”

“Wait, when did Kiara get married?”

“Oh, Drake! At least you have an excuse for not knowing all the news now that you live abroad.” she said, shaking her head. “They eloped maybe… four months ago?”

And then Savannah was off, filling Drake in on tons of gossip he didn’t give two shits about. But it made her happy, and it was a safe topic of conversation, so who was he to complain?

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

Riley sat crossed legged on the floor in Bartie’s room at a little table, Maxwell seated across from her. Meanwhile, Bartie was hard at work at his toy kitchen set, organizing pieces of plastic food on plates. He wanted to show off and make “lunch” for them. Riley supposed that this was probably a common way for a three and a half year old to want to play, not that she had any such memories from her own childhood. What wasn’t common, she was sure, was the formal table setting Bartie had carefully placed in front of each of them, the perfectly pressed white apron he’d asked Maxwell to help him tie on, or the fact that he was arranging his plastic lettuce, eggs, and meat on actual china.

“Looks excellent, my favorite dude,” said Maxwell as Bartie carefully carried over several plates to the table. “What’s on the menu?”

“Steak tartare with a fresh greens salad,” he said before turning and heading back towards his little kitchen.

“Wait, aren’t you going to join us?” asked Riley, trying to keep from bursting out in laughter at the thought of a preschooler preparing such a meal.

“Aunt Riley, no aprons at the table!” he said his eyes wide as he turned back to face her.

“Yeah, come on Aunt Riley, where are your manners?” Maxwell winked before twisting to look over at Bartie. “You need any help untying your apron there?”

“No, I can do it,” Bartie ground out, tugging on the ties without much luck.

“Okay, well I’m right here if you do need help,” Maxwell responded. Within five seconds, Bartie was back, standing right next to him.

“Thanks, Uncle Maxwell!” he said, happily pulling the apron off and jogging over to hang it up nicely once Maxwell had it untied.

“You’re working hard to maintain your title as best uncle.” Riley said.

“Every time you guys come to visit, he suddenly wants to go fishing and camping instead of having dance parties with me.”

Riley laughed at that. “We’re new and exciting, what can I say.”

“Easy for you to say, you’re the favorite aunt by default.”

“What does default mean?” asked Bartie, plopping down on the floor next to them.

“It means no other choices, dude.”

“Oh,” Bartie said, nodding before picking up his silverware, pretending to cut into the plastic in front of him with surprising coordination.

“So has Uncle Maxwell been hanging out with you a lot since your sister came home?”

Bartie shrugged. “I guess.”

“We’ve definitely been seeing some jealousy,” Maxwell said with a nod. “I kind of thought this might happen, so I made sure to clear my schedule for a handful of weeks around the due date.”

“That was thoughtful of you.”

Maxwell tilted his head to the side and smiled. “Hey, I’m favorite uncle for a reason.”

“Uncle Drake is my favorite,” said Bartie, causing Riley to burst out laughing.

“Dude, that wasn’t the deal! You’re gonna pay for this,” Maxwell said, leaning over and wiggling his fingers. “The squid’s about to attack.” With that, Maxwell started tickling Bartie, triggering wild giggles and Bartie rolling backwards on the floor.

“Bartie!” Bertrand’s voice cut across the room. Riley twisted over to find him standing in the hallway, his eyes scanning over the scene in front of him. “We don’t make our guests sit on the floor, do we?”

“No, Daddy.”

“Bertrand, it’s fine-” Riley started, but he held up a hand, cutting her off.

“What do we say, Bartie?”

“Sorry, Aunt Riley.”

All Riley could do was nod, accepting an apology from a toddler that felt entirely unnecessary.

“Good,” said Bertrand, “Now go wash your hands and get cleaned up for lunch.”

Bartie scampered out of the room, turning to his left in the hallway.

“I offered to play with him, Bertrand.”

“Well, he was told that you were coming to visit Caroline. He should have known better than to monopolize your time.”

Riley opened her mouth, ready to respond, but Maxwell grabbed her wrist and shook his head. 

“How are you, by the way? I apologize for not being there to greet you and Drake.”

“I’m good, Bertrand,” she said as she pushed herself up on her feet, walking over and giving him a loose hug. “Congrats, by the way.”

“Yes, thank you. Drake and Savannah have Caroline in the private lounge if you want to go meet her. If you’ll excuse me, I need to go check and make sure Bartie isn’t making a complete mess in the bathroom.”

And with that, Bertrand was off, following the path down the hallway that his son had just taken.

“Yikes,” said Riley as soon as he was out of earshot.

“Yeah, I know,” replied Maxwell, looping his arm around her shoulders and guiding her in the opposite direction. “That is another reason I made sure I didn’t have any need to be on set or in LA for any writers meetings for a few months.”

“He’s more of a tight ass than ever.”

“I think he’s very anxious because he missed this part of Bartie’s life. The amount of research he did and the number of parenting books he read is insane. But any time any little thing isn’t what he expects, he flips out.”

“What does Savannah think about that?” Riley asked, following Maxwell down the stairs.

“Either she’s too sleep deprived to notice, or she’s just pretending not to see it. I decided to give him two months to settle into things. If he’s still snapping at everyone then, well… I guess I’ll have to stage an intervention or something.”

“Wow. Well at least you’re here to look out for the kid.”

“Yup, figure I can keep things normal-ish for him. Though I will say between watching Bertrand spiral and hearing Caroline’s shrieks, any faint consideration I might have given to parenthood has gone straight out the window.”

Riley laughed, prompting Maxwell to keep going. “I’m serious! I know I told you I was pretty sure I was good being the fun uncle, but these past few weeks have really locked in that decision. Don’t tell anyone I told you this, but Bartie is right - Caroline is boring. And loud. And I am so glad she is not my responsibility.”

All Riley could do was laugh more. “Do you need me to make up an excuse for you so you don’t need to be in the same room with her?”

Maxwell nudged her with his shoulder. “Oh, laugh it up! I don’t have any issues with her. She just confirmed that fatherhood is not for me, no matter how cute she is when she isn’t screaming her head off.”

At that point, they entered the lounge, so Riley dropped any further teasing she had for Maxwell. “Hey, Savannah. Congrats!” she said, walking across the room and giving her a hug.

“Thank you, Riley. It’s so good to see you!” Savannah replied as they pulled apart. Riley moved to sit down next to Drake on the couch, who was cradling a baby against his shoulder.

“This must be Caroline,” she said, watching as Drake tapped his hand against her back lightly.

“Either that or I have a lot of explaining to do,” Drake said, glancing over at her. Riley just smiled and nudged him lightly with her elbow.

“Drake, why don’t you let Riley hold her?” Savannah asked. “She should get to meet her aunt, too.”

“Do you want to?” Drake asked, his eyebrows raised.

“Of course,” said Riley, reaching over and helping him peel the tiny little girl off his chest, nestling her into her own arms.

Caroline was awake, her eyes roving around as Riley shifted back onto the couch more fully to try and get comfortable. After a few seconds, they seemed to settle on Riley’s face. All she could really do was stare back, taking in this child, this baby girl who might not have been planned, but would certainly be loved by so many.

“Yeah, I know I’m a stranger right now. But in a couple of decades, I’ll be the one you come to when you want nightclub recommendations in New York City.”

“Hey, I want in on that invite,” said Maxwell as Savannah let out a few chuckles. Riley glanced over at Drake, expecting him to be rolling his eyes or shaking his head, but instead was caught off guard by the intensity of his gaze. He was staring at her holding Caroline with such passion, such longing, she felt almost exposed. All she could think to do was drop her eyes back to the baby, not wanting to dwell on what that meant at that moment.

Unfortunately, Savannah must have noticed Drake as well, because she said, “Oh, I see that look. ‘A while’ my ass. I bet you’ll be pregnant by the end of the year.”

Drake let out a sort of sputtering cough at his sister’s comment, but before he could say anything, could so much as get a word out, Riley felt her own mouth opening. Her own response spilled out so glibly, without a second of thought. It was almost like she heard someone else saying the words, even as she knew she was the one speaking.

“Don’t give him any ideas.”

She felt Drake stiffen beside her, saw Maxwell shifting in his seat, and heard Savannah mutter out a little apology, but all of that was just background noise as her brain screamed at her. How could she have been so fucking stupid? What possessed her to say that? Or at least to phrase it like that? There were ways to shut down Savannah’s prying without implying that Drake had baby fever and she wanted no part of it.

The uncomfortable silence in the room was broken as Bertrand and Bartie entered. “Lunch is ready in the dining room,” said Bertrand, gesturing to the door behind him. Bertrand then stepped over to Riley. “I can go put her down,” he said, gesturing at his daughter still in Riley’s arms.

“Oh, sure thing,” said Riley, passing him Caroline before standing up. Savannah, Maxwell, and Bartie had already left the room, but Drake was still seated, his eyes locked on his knee that was bouncing up and down.

“Drake, I-” she started as soon as Bertrand had stepped out, extending her hand to help him to his feet. But Drake ignored the gesture, pushing his hands into the cushions of the couch instead.

“I’m hungry. Let’s just go eat, Riley.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t-.”

“It’s fine, Riley, Really. We can talk later” He nodded at her and started walking towards the door, leaving Riley to follow after him. And more than the brush off, more than his refusal to hold her hand, the fact that he’d not called her ‘Liu’ let her know that she had made a huge fucking mess.

Perma: @walkerswhiskeygirl @octobereighth @kimmiedoo5 @mom2000aggie

TRR/TRH: @twinkleallnight @iaminlovewithtrr @mskaneko @axwalker @jovialyouthmusic @marshmallowsandfire @kingliam2019 @sirbeepsalot @texaskitten30 @princessleac1 @ladyangel70 @debramcg1106 @masterofbluff  

Drake/MC: @no-one-u-know  @iplaydrake

ICWAM: @thequeenofpixels @sunnyxdazed @sammie0220​

[knifewieldingenby]

Talking in your sleep

They’d had plenty of passionate nights spent tumbling in bed together, but neither had ever spent the night. Until now. Jaskier had looked at Geralt with big blue eyes and softly asked him to stay, and how could he say no to that? Jaskier had wrapped his limbs around Geralt like a squid, and Geralt smiled as he listened to the sound of the musician’s heart beat settle into a drowsy rhythm. He tucked a hair behind Jasker’s ear and kissed him softly. He had been hesitant to start a new relationship after his last went up in flames. Something about Jaskier made it all worth it.

“Herm...gonna stab you...gonna stab you in the face.”

Geralt felt a shock wave run through him, that old voice of insecurity whispering ‘he doesn’t really care for you, you’re just another lay’ before he pushed it down and listened, body gone completely still. Jaskier was still asleep. He was threatening people in his sleep. How cute.

He kissed Jaskier’s forehead - met only with grumbles and a sigh - and closed his eyes, sleep overcoming him quickly.

The second time they were at Geralt’s house. The sun set over the trees and Jaskier, who’d had a show earlier in the day at a wedding, was passed out on the couch with one of Geralt’s throw pillows between his legs. Geralt turned the volume on the tv down and put the subtitles on so he could keep watching. Jaskier’s head twitched every so often in his lap.

“...ass hurts,” came from the younger man. Geralt knew enough now to comfortably say he was dead asleep, and he knew enough to know that a bark of laughter would sadly wake him up. He bit his lip, assessed his options. He could ignore it, or…

“Why’s that?” He spoke under his breath, sure Jaskier wouldn’t actually hear him. The response caught him by surprise.

“Sat on a...on a porcupine.”

He grinned. “Now why would you do that?”

“...took me camping, you bastard.”

Geralt chuckled softly and Jaskier sighed deeply, which was basically his way of saying ‘we’re done here’ and Geralt respected that. He went back to his show, mindlessly stroking Jaskier’s hair the entire time.

------

Geralt hadn’t said anything about it to Jaskier. It was, in some ways, his little secret, though part of him felt like he was invading Jaskier’s privacy. But the musician had mostly been spouting ridiculous scenarios so he figured it was okay. Jaskier probably wouldn’t mind too much. 

Except maybe after tonight.

Even with a fan blowing on them Geralt felt warm, still sweaty from their earlier activities. Jaskier had his arms wrapped around Geralt’s waist, his back to Jaskier’s front. They didn’t normally spoon in this manner but Geralt liked it; he felt smaller, safer in Jaskier’s arms. He was just starting to cool down and drift into a peaceful sleep when he heard It. 

“Love you….”

His eyes shot open. His body tensed in Jaskier’s arms and his heart raced. This was...this was new. They hadn’t exchanged these words yet, though Geralt had felt it for a few months now, too afraid to open himself up so early into the relationship. Given the nonsense Jaskier spoke previously he probably wasn’t even talking to Geralt. He was probably talking to an irate guinea pig.

“...what?” It was probably stupid to poke the bear, but he couldn’t stop himself. 

“Love you, Geralt.” Jaskier rolled into his body and pressed his lips to Geralt’s shoulder. It wasn’t a kiss, just a consistent pressure that made Geralt’s heart swell. He willed his heart to calm down, to stop feeling like it was dancing in his chest. Still, it was many hours before he was able to sleep.

-----

He had to tell him. It wasn’t fair to Jaskier who, for all he knew, was revealing such private things that he wouldn’t willingly say to Geralt out loud. Maybe he didn’t even feel that way, the rush of their great sex life maybe confusing him. Either way, he had to tell him. Tonight was date night at Geralt’s house, the perfect opportunity (though he was grumpy about having to ruin their night with such a topic), and it helped that Jaskier had brought a bottle of wine. The wine was for Geralt’s benefit - Jaskier was more of a brandy kind of guy. Still, he poured two glasses and they sat on the couch, listening for the doorbell that signaled their takeout had arrived.

“Um,” Geralt started, ever so elegant.

“Um?”

“I...I have something to confess.”

Jaskier set his drink down, a warm smile that was only betrayed by the seriousness in his eyes. “I’m listening.”

“Please don’t be mad.” Which was a stupid thing to say, honestly, because Jaskier wasn’t smiling anymore. He fiddled with his fingers, a nervous habit. 

“I...can’t promise that. But I’ll try not to be.” 

“Okay.” Geralt took a deep breath and forced himself to look Jaskier in the eyes. “I...You talk in your sleep.” Jaskier looked somewhat confused by the turn of the conversation.

“O-kay. I know? Why is this a confession?”

He knew already. Probably a past lover told him, and Geralt tried not to think too much about that.

“Hear me out! It’s mostly been nonsense. You sat on a porcupine, you wanted to stab someone. All very in character for you. But last week you said something. When you stayed the night. I thought it was only fair that you knew.”

“What did I say?”

Here goes nothing. “You said you loved me.”

And he had to hand it to Jaskier, the man was a fantastic actor. If not for the way he gripped at his own fingers, Geralt would have thought he was completely unaffected. He schooled his face into a gentle smile as he grabbed his wine and took far too big a gulp. 

“I-” The bell rang, cutting Jaskier off. Geralt cursed under his breath and they stared at each, wordlessly asking if it was even worth it to answer the door. Finally Jaskier hopped up and got it. Geralt couldn’t hear what he was saying, only aware of how slow Jaskier was to put the food in the kitchen and come back to the couch. He was stalling.

“You were saying?” Geralt said anxiously. Judging by the man’s reaction, Geralt wasn’t so sure he wanted to know the answer anymore.

“I was going to say that...I do love you.” He blushed as he took in Geralt’s widened eyes. “And I’m sorry for the manner in which it came out. I never wanted you to know in that way. I was planning - well, it doesn’t matter anymore, I suppose.”

“Why didn’t you want me to know?”

“Because I know you have baggage with love, darling. And I respect you too much to push my feelings on you before you’re ready to hear them.”

Geralt smiled softly. This man was truly going to be the death of him, but in the best way possible.

“I- it made me happy,” he squeaked - fucking squeaked - out. He cleared his throat. “Hearing it. It made me...well, anxious, but happy.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

Jaskier grinned from ear to ear and took his hands gently in his own. 

“Then I suppose that means it’s okay for me to say it fully conscious now?” Geralt nodded quickly. “Excellent! Because I truly do love you, Geralt.”

“I love you too.” He should have been surprised - it had barely been six months since they got together, after all - but he wasn’t. He’d known from the start that Jaskier would change his life.

Thank you @background-noise-headache for this adorable prompt. I hope I did it justice! And to everyone else, feel free to send me prompts!

[dreaminae]

We All Need The One Friend

Chapter 8

Hours rolled by as sunlight shifted to moonlight. Friendly competition soon became dangerous as personal tensions rose within the group.

"Rise of Batman!" One person guessed of Jordan's pose.

"Transformers!" A friend playfully argued.

Jordan changes poses in hopes that it might be easier to guess.

With time up, Jordan cracked up as everyone failed to guess his term.

"Okay, what even was that?" Simone giggled.

"Back to the future." Jordan responded in a 'duh' tone as if everyone should've known. "Greatest movie of all time!"

"I've never watched that movie in my life." Simone chuckled, "Plus, the greatest movie of all time is Parasite. Hello!"

"Jordan doesn't do subtitles." J.J laughed. "Like have you met my man?"

Everyone joined in the laughter, but Simone couldn't help but feel like it was strange that she hasn't known a small detail like that.

The game went on as Vanessa took the reigns.

"One word." One person shouted.

"A place. No no, a person." Another one added to list of clues.

"Uh, a painting.... a movie." Layla interjected.

"No, a plane. Wait, what?" One of them fumbled over when Vanessa switched stances.

"You're on a plane."

Giggling, Vanessa changed gestures again.

"Bald. You're bald. A bald eagle." J.J guessed.

"No, not an animal." Vanessa choked up.

"Aye, no cheating." Jordan chuckled as Vanessa spoke.

"C'mon guys." Vanessa encouraged, ignoring Jordan's rules. "You had a poster of him in your room when your ten." She spat out in Asher's direction.

"Samuel L. Jackson!" Asher shouted, jumping up as if he won the lottery.

Liv glanced between the two of them as if they grew two heads. It was stupid how one small detail held a bigger picture.

"Well, you don't get a point for that one." Simone scrutinized, gaining a careless shrug from Vanessa.

The game rolled on, leading to Spencer's turn.

Galloping his feet and twirling his arm, Spencer caused everyone to gather into fits of laughter.

"A cowboy," Jordan shouted first.

"The rodeo." Asher chuckled.

"Wild, wild west." Layla joined in, holding back her laughs.

Adding to his performance, Spencer shook his foot hysterically, while twirling his arm like a madman.

Finally catching on to his charade, Olivia thought back to the night she made Spencer rewatch all her favorite childhood movies. Quoting one of her favorite lines, Spencer had her in hysterics for half an hour. She could still remember him using her belt as a rope, shouting 'There's a snake in my boot'.

"Woody," Olivia muttered with a small smile.

"What?" Her brother asked curiously, not completely hearing her response.

"It's woody!" Olivia laughed, which Spencer replied to with a smirk.

They met each other eyes, before bursting out, "There's a snake in my boot!"

The entire group fell out laughing, excluding Layla.

Spencer returned to his seat grinning like an idiot, but couldn't help but to notice his girlfriend's harsh mood.

"Hey, are you alright?"

Layla nodded lightly. "Guess I am just tired." She muttered, not bothering to look in his direction.

Sensing there was more to it, Spencer left it alone, not wanting to cause a scene in front of his friends.

"Alright, I have the perfect game to play next," Vanessa announced, as she returned from the house with her bottle of booze. "Anyone up for a game of Never Have I Ever. The more you've done the more you drink."

Her announcement soured the mood as Spencer immediately shut down her idea. "Sorry, Ma." Spencer asserted firmly. "Ain't bo drinking happening this weekend."

His eyes flew to Olivia, followed by everyone else's. She rolled her eyes at their dramatics.

"Oh, please. Don't stay sober on my account." Olivia dryly encouraged. After all, this was the first time in weeks she'd been completely sober. With all of her friends within proximity this weekend, drinking wasn't an option for her.

Noting Liv's bitter tone towards her, Vanessa tried to ease the tension. "Sorry, Liv. I forget that you don't drink. That was so insensitive of me." She apologized, placing the booze on the ground.

"It's okay. It's not something I'd expected you to know, so.." Liv shrugged it off, dismissing the subject all together.

"No, liquor. Got it." Vanessa summed up, ignoring Liv's clear implied diss of Vanessa's newness to their group.

Asher rubbed Olivia's thigh, silently asking her to lighten up. Cocking up a brow, she gave him her iconic 'I could careless' glare.

"No drinks doesn't mean no turn-up." J.J cheered. "Introducing the burns of all burns -- jalapeno-infused pickle juice."

"What don't you have in that box man?" Spencer questioned, seriously wondering where J.J randoms items came from.

"Let the burns begin."

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

"Alright, never have I ever walked in on my parents doing it." Simone started the game off.

First victim up, Asher gulped down his first dose of the throat burning juice.

"Oh, God. Asher. No!" Olivia cringed.

"I don't wanna talk it." Asher chuckled at the memory. "RV trip...'08....super weird."

"Oh, you're gonna talk about it." Spencer and Jordan laughed together.

"Not the one to up to Sanoma. How could you not to me?" Vanessa asked playfully, catching Olivia's attention yet again.

Liv couldn't help but wonder just how much did Vanessa know about Asher, that she didn't.

"Cause I was scarred for life," Asher replied, oblivious to the questionable expression of Liv's face.

"Alright, my turn. Never have I ever bought 300 dollars shoes for my one night in Vegas." Simone teased Olivia's bad spending habits.

Tensing up, Liv looked everywhere besides at Layla.

"No cheating. Drink up, Liv." Simone laugh, unaware of the big secret she just revealed.

Layla's eyes narrowed in Liv's direction, fed up with the secrets.

Spencer gawked at his girlffriend, realizing that he and Liv might have to come clean sooner than expected.

"Alright, never have I ever said I love you just to get someone to hook up with me." Vanessa added to game.

All the boys drank besides Spencer.

"Yikes, that was a test that you all failed." Vanessa taunted, "Besides Spencer."

"My bro is a real one. When he says it, he means it." J.J admired, increasing the growing tension between Spencer and his love interest.

In Liv's case, her heart clenched at the mentally, replayed memory of Spencer professing his love for her. She yearned to have a chance just to tell him how she felt, despite the chance he no longer felt the same.

However, in Layla's case, all the times that Spencer claimed to love her we're burning in a flame of betrayal. Because despite that fact she had no solid evidence, that conveyed her worse thought she knew Spencer wasn't being truthful with her.

"You're a lucky one, Layla."

Layla's sneer went unheard by the majority of the group besides the two people who knew the jig was up.

Unaware of the conflicts brewing, J.J continued the game. His hand already pointing at his aimed victim.

"Never have I ever ran naked through a football field."

Admitting the embarrassing memory, Jordan gulped back his shot of pickle juice.

"Jordan! Tell me you didn't!" Simone teased.

"Okay. Okay. I did it. I run through the field, butt naked." Jordan chuckled. "What was it? Freshmen year?"

He and J.J chuckled laughed over the recollection.

"Varsity team stole all of our clothes, thanks to Ash -- over here --- acting like he owned the place during tryouts" Jordan recalled funnily.

"Cause I did." Asher cockily popped his collar. "It's called confidence."

"Confidence. Okay." Jordan playfully mocked. "Whatever you want to call it. Your dumbass stays getting us in trouble."

Asher nodded with a knowing smile. But Vanessa saw nothing funny about it.

"Wow." She gasped seriously. "Okay. Never have I ever crapped all over folks that we're supposed to be my friends."

The laughter stopped, and the smiles dropped in reaction to Vanessa switch up.

"Uh, Vanessa it's alright." Asher tried to jump in before she took things too far.

"It's just jokes." Jordan defended himself, not seeing the harm in messing around.

Vanessa's scornful expression was enough for Jordan to see that she couldn't disagree more.

Maybe it was her role as a protective sister that came into play. Perhaps, it was the jealously towards Vanessa knowing things about Asher that Liv didn't. Or maybe it was simply that Liv didn't feel Vanessa had any right to make presumed assumptions on any of the dynamics within their group when Vanessa barely knew any of them beyond a first-name basis.

Whatever it was, Vanessa's attempt to trash talk her twin was Olivia's last straw. And with that, she felt it was only right to return the favor.

"Hmm, well, Never have I ever spent the summer getting to somebody else's boyfriend a little too much." Liv snapped at Vanessa.

"Liv! What the hell!" Asher choked up, unable to believe that she publically humiliated Vanessa in that manner.

"Yo, Ash. Relax. Let's just play the game." Jordan instructed, trying to ease the tension he caused.

"You wanna play? Fine." Asher groaned. "Never have I ever cheated a concussion protocol to play in a game." He added spitefully.

"What is he talking about?" Simone inquired seriously, over the entire game. "You cheated your concussion protocol? How could you not tell me something like that?"

"You mean like you told me about Princeton?" Jordan asked, trying to guilt trip her right back.

"Wow!" Simone gasped in awe, tossing her blanket aside before storming off.

"Ah, babe, wait! I didn't mean it like that!" Jordan quibbled, following behind Simone. "Baby, wait. Sweetie!"

With the fun atmosphere ruined, the remainder of the group broke off to deal with their own problems.

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

"Can you believe Liv?" Asher groaned, as he and Layla entered the kitchen.

"Not really. Find it hard to believe anyone with all the secrets that's been hidden." Layla replied harshly.

"What do you mean?" Asher asked, clueless.

"Simone's Never Have I Ever!" Layla responded in a duh tone. "When has Olivia ever gone to Vegas."

"Olivia wouldn't lie about going to Vegas. She has no reason to." Asher scoffed.

"You mean like she had no reason to lie about being in Mexico." Layla revealed.

"Liv came to Mexico? When?" Asher asked desperately. "She never told me."

"She went to Mexico to surprise her boyfriend." Layla groaned, annoyed that she had to be the one to tell him. "Only when she got there she saw you and random girl boo'd up." She gestured towards Vanessa as the brunette and J.J entered the room.

"Wait, you and Asher?" J.J asked heartbroken, catching the last part of Layla's statement. "Since when?"

"Where's Olivia now?" Asher requested to know, needing to hear all of this from her.

"I don't think that" Spencer began to suggest against going after Liv, but was interrupted by his girlfriend.

"She's down by bonfire," Layla interjected before her boyfriend could continue to shield his side piece from the mess they made.

Bypassing the other three teens, Asher went to find his girlfriend and demand some answers. Meanwhile, Vanessa and J.J left Spencer and Layla to handle their business in private.

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

[busterkeatonfanfic]

Chapter 14

Buster caught it good from Natalie at breakfast the following morning. As soon as Connie collected the kids to wash them up and the room was empty, she let him have it.

He was made to understand that just before he reappeared inside the house after seeing off Nelly, Louise Brooks had exited the rear loggia, hair and dress rumpled and a nipple exposed, and dashed toward the bathroom. Natalie saw the whole spectacle and saw Buster too, strolling through the front door a minute later with a telltale smear of lipstick on his face. There wasn’t anything he could do to defend himself when she snapped, “I suppose you weren’t thinking about me at all when you went off with Louise last night? What everyone there would think?”

Oh, actually it wasn’t Louise, Nate, that was a crazy coincidence. It was this other girl, you see. Yeah, that’d go over like a lead balloon. 

“I’m sorry,” he said, after giving his answer some thought. “I really am. I had too much to drink. I didn’t know what I was doing.” There was nothing else he could say. Whoever had been out there with Louise, whether George or another lucky man, had either slipped back in unnoticed or left unnoticed, leaving good old Buster to take the fall. He wasn’t convinced that anyone had put two and two together concerning Louise and him, but that hardly mattered to Nate. All the elements to humiliate her had been in place.

“You say you care about me, but that isn’t true at all. Otherwise you wouldn’t be two-timing me every time my back is turned,” she said. Her beautiful eyes were shimmering with unshed tears and he did feel terrible looking at her. He wanted to comfort her, this woman he’d loved since the day he’d stepped off that train in New York and gone to seal their engagement, but he knew it wouldn’t do a lick of good, even if she had allowed him to gather her into his arms and hold her close, which he knew she wouldn’t. 

“You know about the two-timing,” he said. “I never lied about it.” He felt the futility of the argument as soon as the words were out of his mouth.

“Yes, but you said it wouldn’t be public,” she said, breaking into a sob.

“Nate, I fucked up, alright!” he said. “I don’t know what you want. What do you want me to do, put on the hair shirt and get out the cat o’ nine tails? Jesus, I’m sorry.” He pushed his chair back from the table and stood up. Now he was angry and couldn’t quite grasp why. Something to do with his stupidity and carelessness but also Natalie’s long-standing refusal to engage in the normal rules of marriage as he understood them. He was angry at everything. He shoved the chair so the arms struck the edge of the table, hoping they’d dented the table’s pristine finish, and stormed out. Eleanor was mopping the checkerboard floor and he ignored her meek hello as he jogged up the stairs and stalked into his bedroom. 

He yanked open his closet, pulled out a jacket, shrugged it on, and laced up his shoes. Before leaving, he collected his fishing poles and tackle box. 

He ended up driving out to Franklin Canyon Lake where he could be alone with his thoughts. He found an isolated spot and parked the Duesenberg, then set up. The absurdity of it didn’t escape him, sitting on the grassy edge of the lake getting the seat of his pants wet and dirtying up a $200 pair of leather shoes with a $9,500 car behind him.

He had been pretty drunk last night, but not so drunk he hadn’t known what he was doing when Nelly kissed him. She’d made the first move, but he’d been getting ready to beat her there. His thoughts had been returning to her all morning. He’d grown to like her and there wasn’t much question as to why. She was pretty for starters and she had a backbone, which he’d always liked in a girl. He was amused by her sense of pride. Her stakes also seemed very low. She didn’t want to be the leading lady in a romance or even the leading lady in one of his comedies, for that matter. No, it was fusty old Shakespeare she had her hopes pinned on. His first thought upon waking up, apart from lamenting how ferociously his head hurt, was that he wanted to see her again.

Nate’s sad, pretty little face at the breakfast table rose up in his mind and guilt gnawed. She deserved a husband who would be faithful to her; he did believe that with his whole heart, even though he couldn’t (Couldn’t or wouldn’t? hissed a part of him) make that sacrifice. It wasn’t fair of him to treat her the way he did, to be thinking of Nelly and how much he’d wanted her last night. Still, the selfish part of him objected stridently. He had needs too and didn’t he deserve to get them met? Hadn’t he tried his best to make things better before going outside of his marriage? Didn’t he still do his damndest to make Nate happy, what with the Villa and parties and letting her control the purse-strings?

The fishing was good as morning wore into afternoon and afternoon wore into evening, but he threw everything back. Gone were the days in Muskegon where Myra cooked everything he caught, frying the fish up in butter and cornmeal. Caruthers bought the fish and other meat fresh every day and it was usually exotic, skate fillets and swordfish and the like, not the humble trout and largemouth bass his line was currently fetching. When he tired of fishing, he got back in the car and drove home. He would miss dinner, but he wasn’t hungry. He parked in the garage and headed to the east wing, where he climbed the stairs to his balcony and let himself into his room, not wanting to come through the main entrance and risk encountering Natalie. He kicked off his shoes and tossed his jacket and trousers on the floor, and crawled into bed. The hangover had caught up to him and he fell fast asleep. 

When he woke up, he had no idea where he was or what time it was. It took him a few seconds to remember the fishing trip, the fight, and the party. He grabbed the alarm clock on his bedside table and brought it up to his face. Almost nine o’clock. He’d slept for over two hours. He sat up, feeling groggy and hungry, and pulled his trousers back on. He padded into the hall. The house was dim, Caruthers having turned down the lights for the evening, and no trace of the previous evening’s festivities remained. He wondered if Nate had decided to go ahead with the barbecue tomorrow in spite of the fight. Even though he would have rather inspected the kitchen for leftovers, he passed the stairs and went on to the west wing. The door to Natalie’s bedroom was closed and he tapped on the door to announce himself before pushing quietly inside. 

Natalie was sitting up in bed in a blue satin nightgown and a matching translucent wrap reading an issue of Colliers. She didn’t look at him as he sat at the foot of the bed. “Hi,” he said, giving her toe beneath the covers a friendly tweak. She withdrew her foot and turned the page of her magazine. The cover advertised the new Zane Grey novel and was subtitled A Story of Love and Adventure in Arizona. 

He knit his hands in his lap. “I know you’re angry.”

No response. 

“I’m sorry.”

Silence.

“I love you.”

Only then did Natalie put down the magazine and look at him. “A fine way you’ve got of showing it.” The expression on her face was cold.

He stood up and climbed into the bed with her, making himself comfortable against the mound of pillows on the vacant side. It was a risky move, but she didn’t object. “I wanna make things work.”

Natalie scoffed. 

Her king bed felt as big as a steamliner compared to his double. Even if he had been permitted to sleep in the same bed with her, with its size there would have been no danger of them ever touching.

“You know I still care for you. I’ve never stopped.” Cautiously, he stroked her arm.

“You humiliated me,” she said, not looking at him. 

“I know. I deserve to be castrated.” He didn’t think he deserved any such thing, but she was letting him stroke her arm, so he went on.

“Does the whole world know you’re stepping out on me? That I’m not enough for you?” Her voice was trembly. 

He sighed. “I don’t think anyone noticed last night. We came from opposite ends of the house.”

“Yes,” she said tearily. “It was very clever of you. But I noticed.”

“Because you’re my wife. My wife who I love very much.” He threw caution to the wind and moved into her space, putting his arms around her and laying his chin on her shoulder. “I don’t want to lose you.” She was rigid, but didn’t attempt to pull away.

“What will it take for you to treat me with respect then?” she said, reaching up to dash away a tear. 

Buster sighed again and nuzzled her shoulder. She smelled of flowers and baby powder. “I do respect you. You know what the problem is.”

The silence between them was heavy. After a while, Natalie said, “I could try again to like it, I guess.” She sniffled.

He looked at her, surprised. “Do you really mean that?”

She nodded. “I want us to be happy. I want Bobby and Jimmy to have a mother and a father. Under the same roof, that is.”

Apparently he hadn’t been the only one with the D word on his mind. “Okay,” he said, not quite believing she’d just said what she had. “Well, you know that would make me very happy.”

Natalie laid her hand on his forearm. “And you’d stay faithful to me, if …” She was so delicate, she trailed off instead of naming the unseemly act to which they both referred.

“Yes,” he said. “Of course.”

“I don’t want to tonight,” she said, sounding almost frightened.

“I don’t expect you to.” He leaned up and kissed her cheek. “We can take things at your pace.”

“Okay,” she said. He felt her relax in his arms.

She permitted him to linger cuddling her a while longer, and when she kicked him out so she could sleep it was with a kiss.

Standing in the kitchen eating a shaved-beef sandwich a few minutes later, he felt like the tide was turning just a little. The cutting of Steamboat was going well. The barbecue was still on for tomorrow and those always cheered him up. Natalie had done better than just forgiven him for his indiscretion, she told him she was willing to resume their marital relations. Even so, once he’d taken a bath and was lying between his sheets in his silk pajamas, he couldn’t sleep. He was thinking about the night before and the girl who had attended in her rented dress and had thrown away his flask of whiskey. He remembered too that she’d cried when he filmed the facade scene Notes: Thank you for your patience, Buster kittens, as I adjusted to some big life changes the past week. My therapy is this story, though, so I’m back at it again! A couple notes: Buster and Natalie had servants called Connie and Eleanor, which is a little confusing given that Natalie’s sister Constance was sometimes called Connie and Buster found his happily ever after with an Eleanor. According to Myra Keaton, Buster never stopped loving Natalie, and I do think that he genuinely wanted their marriage to work. What do you think?

[justasparkwritings]

Peace: Would It Be Enough?

Previous: In Secret 

Pairing: Jungkook X Reader

Genre: Smut/ Angst / Slice of Life

Rating: NC17

Word Count: 3.2k

Warnings: Swearing, P-V Sex, Consensual Sex, Making Love, Forgiveness, Redemption, Vaginal Fingering 

Summary: The morning after. 

Listening: peace by Taylor Swift 

Peace Master List

          There’s a moment when you first wake up when the weight of the world, the weight of the day, doesn’t overwhelm you. Your to-do list waits, your mind is slowly waking itself and remembering whatever nightmare you’ve left for yourself to deal with. But you know it’s coming. As you woke up that morning, that sinking feeling engulfed you before you opened your eyes. Jack Antonoff was right, but your dread wasn’t waiting by your bed, it was thriving within you.

          Rolling over, you checked the clock. 10AM on a Saturday is a fine time to wake up, but as you do, the flood of thoughts crashed over you. The dryness of your skin from the salty tears made you wince, and as you padded to the kitchen to make yourself a cup of coffee, you’re confronted with three realities, and leaning against your kitchen counter, you recount them to yourself.

·      First, you told him you couldn’t look at him anymore.

·      Second, he was verbally harassed last night, and you did nothing

·      Third, you’re not enough

·      You’re not enough to handle this

·      You’re not enough to be by his side

·      You’re just…

The third sent you reeling, but the second kept nagging at you like a mosquito bite in the middle of your back. It’s persistent itch slowly driving you mad.

           You walked yourself through the events of the night, through Jungkook’s response, through your own. You yelled, you fucking hated yelling, it had no place in your relationship… The guys had been there, they’d tried to ration… Jungkook tried to… But he didn’t… You didn’t … It’s all coming back, the bits and pieces of the hurt you hurled at him, your Jungkook, your love, the man you’d give every wild you had to… the father of your child… And here you were, sipping coffee, trying to organize your thoughts into something cohesive to make up or make sense of the hurt you hurled at him.

           You took to your phone to open Spotify and saw his plentiful texts, sent throughout the night… single lines of longing trying to reach you.

Jagi, I’m just checking in. I love you.

Baby, I hope you get some sleep. I love you.

I love you.

Our love isn’t for show… please

Love you, so much

           You stared, your thoughts being overwhelmed by the profound sadness you felt towards him, because of him. With tears in your eyes, you moved to your bathroom, hot water scalding your skin as it came cascading down around you.

           Jungkook awoke, but if he was honest, he didn’t really sleep. Wedged between a wall and Ho-Seok, having not planned to stay with the members at all, he found himself uncomfortable, his mind stuck on the image of you, telling him you couldn’t look at him. You, walking away from him, telling him not to follow you or talk to you. You… The texts he sent left unanswered. His pleas to you to talk to him, to say anything, to say that you loved him too… unreciprocated.

           He carefully climbed out of bed around 9AM, tiptoeing into the gym, trying to work out his frustration on the treadmill.

One mile.

Two miles.

Three miles.

          As he ran, he replayed the events in his head. He went to the bathroom, leaving you with a guard nearby and taking one with him. He came back and saw that man circling you, a vulture preying on a seemingly isolated fledgling. Jungkook approached, he watched the man attack, trying to get anything from you, and you, stunning in your skintight black jeans, moto jacket draping over your shoulders, studded booties protecting your feet… Jungkook tried to protect you. You, the object of his desires, you, your dazzling smile and friendly demeanor, a mere kill to that man. But the man wasn’t after you, he was after Jungkook. If one prey was left alone, the herd was nearby, and Jungkook was proof of that.His eyes became bugged as he watched Jungkook step in front of you, Jungkook, nearly six feet and pure muscle, shirt unbuttoned dangerously low, chest seemingly smooth. Jungkook, tattooed covered hand, rings absently adorning digits, undercut fresh, hair slightly pulled back, glowering over him.

          Jungkook was the vulture, and weak prey does what it can to escape the predator, it distracts and deflects.

          Jungkook wanted to be the threat, he wanted to use his height and physique as a way to protect you from that man. But what you hadn’t accounted for was the man’s mouth, his beliefs, his disgust that you would be dating someone so, Asian. It didn’t matter if Jungkook could beat the shit out of him, it didn’t matter that he could grind seeds in his palms or use his falsetto after dancing nonstop for three minutes. It didn’t matter, because in that moment, when the man realized that you belonged to Jungkook, his xenophobia and ignorance raged more powerfully than Jungkook’s fists ever could. Jungkook knew it, as the man’s eyes drifted between you… He knew it would come to blows.

          Stepping off the treadmill, sweat soaking his clothing, he picked up his phone. No calls. No texts. No Instagram updates. No tweets. You’d gone to ground, and he was desperate to hear from you. He dialed, knowing full well you wouldn’t answer. You never spoke before you were ready, you never made a decision that wasn’t thought out… He knew you well enough to know you’d be processing, but he needed you to know he was still there, he was still so close… A call, a text, and he’d be at your door.

          You sat still as your phone rang, his name and ID flashing… A photo Taehyung had taken on your last trip to Korea... A rainy day spent in sweats and watching your favorite movies, trying to show them films that were important to you. Subtitles on, and when the situation called for it, Namjoon translating. Jungkook had fallen asleep, his head resting on a pillow in your lap, fingers intertwined with yours. You sat slowly raking your fingers through his hair, smiling as you watched the film. The moment was too cute to pass up, and Taehyung snapped the pic. You watched it fade to black, and he listened as it rang and rang.

          “Noona, please, please talk to me. I love you; I love you so much and I, just please call me.”

          He picked up the weights, heavier than he needed, hand still hurting from the punch, and became determined to burn himself out before he could dare to think about your accusations.

          You’ve sat with him in the trenches, been there for his biggest hits and greatest wins. But you weren’t convinced he’d stand by your side. You didn’t believe he’d die for you, you didn’t believe that he’d take a bullet for you, to protect your honor, to defend his own he’d… He’d die for you, on the front page, on national television. He’d give you anything you wanted, everything you wanted, but would it be enough?

          Dropping the weights, mind spent, Jungkook ambled throughout the Airbnb, showering, forcing himself to eat, his bandmates asking if he was okay.

          “I still haven’t heard from her,” He whispered.

          “She’s safe, she’s at home,” Namjoon said, watching his maknae with sympathetic eyes.

          “I know,” He responded, eyes trained on the counter. He felt uncomfortable standing with his brothers in the spot where she had walked out on him, where she’d lay bare her fears and insecurities. It felt wrong, like the place should be torn down, burned, never to be built upon again. Anything to erase the memory.

          “She hasn’t said anything to us either,” Taehyung added, wrapping an arm around Jungkook.

          “Is that supposed to make him feel better?” Yoongi asked, making his way through the kitchen to grab an apple.

          “She isn’t just icing him out,” Taehyung clarified.

          “What are you going to say to her?” Yoongi questioned.

          “I don’t really want to talk about this,” Jungkook said, eyes finally moving to look at his bandmates. “I just, I just want to talk to her.” He stood, tears starting to form again and moved towards the backyard. As he pressed into the grass, his phone buzzed.

Come over please

           Jungkook bounded from the car to your front door, knocking frantically, enthusiastically, begging for entrance into your home. You approached slowly, a deep breath being drawn as you unlocked the door and stepped back, letting Jungkook slowly step over the threshold.

           “Baby, I-” He was cut off by your lips, hands reaching to pull him too you, your lips meeting in the middle. Instinctively he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you close. His wet hair brushed your cheeks as you moved your arms to wrap around his neck, fingers instinctively playing with the hair at the nape. He growled lightly, bottom lip between his teeth, and started to move you, slowly, through the living room and down the hallway of your bungalow to your bedroom. Your hands moved down his clothed shoulders before slowly reaching up underneath his sweatshirt to rest on his bare chest, and as you pulled away for air, he deftly slid it over his head and tossed into a pile.

           “I want you,” You whispered, his hands gripping your hips, foreheads pressed together, eyes closed. You slowly opened your eyes, looking through your lashes at him.

           “I need you,” He whispered, the intensity in your gaze doubling as he stared. “Always, you.”

           You brought him onto the bed swiftly, lips connecting as he nestled himself between your thighs.

           “I love you,” You said as his hands began to tug at your shirt, carefully guiding it off your frame. “So much.”

           “I love you,” Jungkook said, his gaze staying with yours as he slipped his hand down the front of your leggings, splitting your lips open and taking a tentative stroke.

           “Take them off,” You said, arm covering your eyes, giving into the feeling of him, Jungkook, Golden Maknae, lover.

           He did as instructed, slowly spreading your legs, revealing yourself to him, your arousal clear and glistening, beckoning him to it. He wasted no time, no build up, no longing strokes or languid caresses. He wanted you, and he wanted you now.

           Wrapping his lips around your sensitive bud, he began to suck, alternating slow gentle pulls with sharper, harsher puckers. He held your thighs down, strong hands splaying across the fat of your thighs, his favorite thighs, keeping you firmly pressed into the mattress.

           Having sex with Jungkook was either one of three things:

1.     Slow and passionate

2.     Rough and overwhelming

3.     Gentle and giving

           It had taken you two a while to find your stride, sexually. One of you was experienced, the other lacking, and finding a common ground was challenging, except for the fact that you both so desperately wanted one another. You’d waited a decent amount of time, in your opinion, before having sex. You’d been burned before, and sex was something you wanted to share with someone you cared about, who was invested in whatever you were building together. Jungkook had understood and felt similarly. Your aligning star signs, and a particularly tight pair of jeans and a too low-cut top had pushed things over the edge, and you’d consummated your relationship in your house, first in the bedroom, then in the kitchen, and finally, the floor in front of the fireplace.

           Jungkook continued to attend to your clit, and when he felt you getting close, slipped two fingers inside, coaxing your walls to embrace him. The stretch, unwelcome at first, was exactly what you needed. Your orgasm crashed down, overwhelming you as a new batch of tears started to fall. You tried to maintain composure, the pleasure outweighing the guilt and pain. If not for yourself, for Jungkook. He noticed your change in demeanor, and slowly kissed up your body, straddling your waist and moving your hands from your eyes.

           “Hey, noona,” He whispered, lowering his lips to kiss your tears. You turned your head, catching his lips as your hand slipped between you, palming his member through his sweats. He moaned greedily, hips involuntarily rutting at your touch.

           “Jungkook,” You whispered against his lips. He slid off of you and stood, tossing his sweats and briefs into the same pile of clothes he’d tossed his sweatshirt.

           “How do you-

           “Just, like this,” You said, propped up on your elbows, staring at his naked form. You wanted to feel close, a part of him, like you’d felt the last time you’d made love. Yes, made love was the term Jungkook preferred. Sex could be, impersonal, emotionless, but making love… a phrase perfectly depicting what it was: love shared. You could tell from the glint in his eyes, the tears still spilling from your eyes, that the love making would be gentle and passionate, your favorite kind.

           Jungkook nodded, moving back between your open and willing legs, hand stroking himself once, twice, before he angled his hips and gently pressed into you. Moans swirled as the sound of his flesh against yours echoed off the walls, your tears mixing with sweat as he slowly thrust in and out of you. Your eyes locked on his as he slid a hand between you, teasing you towards your second orgasm as he edged closer and closer to his first.

           You wished it could be like this forever. The passion and heat between you hadn’t lessened in the years you’d been together, distance hadn’t made your wanting disappear, it only intensified. As you came down from your respective highs, Jungkook nipped at the skin on your shoulder, leaving a small love bite.

          “I love you,” you whispered, eyes closed tight, unwilling to look at him.

          “I know, noona, I know,” He whispered, eyes trained on your face. “Look at me,” His voice was gentle, an ask, not a demand.

          You opened your eyes, tears slipping down your temples, soaking your hair and absorbing into the pillows. Silently, Jungkook pressed his lips to yours before rising. He disappeared into the kitchen, washing his hands before bringing you a glass of water, waiting patiently for you to return from the bathroom before handing it to you. Sipping silently, you pulled him into the bathroom and into the shower.

          You’d both showered independently that morning, washing away your transgressions and anxieties from the night before. In the afternoon sunlight, the water brought you two together. As you washed each other, silence sitting in the atmosphere like low clouds, ridding themselves of the last few drops from the storm that had just raged.

          Slipping into clean clothes, pulling him to you again, you tumbled into your bed, limbs intertwined as your head rested on his chest, rising slowly with his breathing. The exhaustion from the fight, the anger, the fear, coupled with the exhaustion of making love, and the comfort of a lovers embrace lulled you both to sleep, only awakening when Jungkook’s phone rang.

          Groggily he answered, speaking swiftly in Korean.

          “The guys want to know if we want to go to dinner with them,” He said, glancing down at your still form.

          “Can we just stay in?” You asked, sleep still heavy in your body.

          “Of course we can,” He said standing. He stepped into the hallway; his voice still hushed as he spoke to whomever called him. You tried to open your eyes, to will the drowsiness away, and slowly it did. You opened your eyes to a setting sun, and Jungkook leaning against the doorframe, sweats low on his hips, back bare.

          Somewhere in his conversation he became animated, and you knew he could paint dreamscapes if he wanted.

          “Jungkook?” You said, pulling his attention from his phone call. He looked at you and smiled softly before saying his goodbyes.

          “Yes love?”

          “I, I’m sorry,” You said, fidgeting with the skin on your thumb.

          “I’m sorry too,” He offered, sitting on the bed, staring at you.

          “I’m so sorry for everything, for yelling at you, for being so harsh and cold, and, and”  

          His tattooed hand reached out to grab yours, a willing peace offering.

          “I’m sorry I minimized your pain,” You looked at him. “I, I ignored it. I latched onto the one thing I could control, and that was what the world could see of me. I couldn’t register your hurt because I don’t know how to fix it or make it better or make people less hateful... so I got angry because our privacy is something I can navigate. I can manage if someone sees us together, or Instagram posts or twitter comments. That I can do, but last night,” You shook your head, trying to block the memories from invading. “I shut out your feelings, Jungkook, I didn’t acknowledge what you were going through, and I’m so so sorry,” Your voice cracked as you uttered your apology. Jungkook was quick to move to you, pulling you against him, your fresh tears falling on his bare chest.

          “I don’t know what it’s like to experience that level of racism and hatred. I know microaggressions, I’ve fielded a million. I know in America we put Asian Americans in internment camps, we passed laws that literally wouldn’t allow them to become citizens, or enter our country, we blamed them for COVID and our stock market tanking... We fetishize and demean and make light of thousands of years of abuse. I’ve experienced my own racism, and colorism, but I’ve never ... I hate that you were hurt. I hate that someone could spew that vile, repugnant bull shit at you. I hate that I couldn’t do anything to protect you. I hate that I was so insensitive. I love you, Jungkook. I’ll give you a son, I’ll give you my best, I’ll die for you in secret, in public, I don’t care… But Jungkook, I don’t know if it will be enough?”

          Your eyebrows knitted together as you stared at him. Him, the Golden Maknae, the love of your life, the man of your dreams.

          “I love you,” Jungkook said, holding your gaze. “I love you. I want you… So, what if you can’t bring me peace? What does that even mean? Of course, you are enough because I say you are, because you say you are. You are enough and so much more,” Jungkook broke as your joined vulnerability tore down any remaining emotional walls or self-preservation you’d put up.

          You’d had a fight, a really-bad-could-end-everything fight. Neither of you were sure what would happen, what Bang and Big Hit would want from you, whether or not swinging for the fences was going to result in a low batting average or the record for homers in a relationships timeline. Neither of you cared. The ever-present question of whether either of you was enough for the other would eat away at you, dissipating only when lips touched, I love you’s exchanged, promises of forever etched on your hearts. You could be enough for one another… until he breaks into a million pieces and the shattered edges glisten with blood… then what?

Next: Clowns to the West

[deadupondaylight]

I’m Sorry But I’m Not About To Change

Hello, I interrupt my hiatus briefly to give you fanfic of @knivestothroats series “In The Woods Somewhere” because I have zero inhabitation about writing smut. I give you smut. Do I think Buck and Fletcher would make a happy stable couple? No. Do I want to see them f*ck? Yeah.  This is non-canon. CW: past abuse mentions, paranoia, blow-job, consensual smut with dubious power dynamics

the reviews: “This is deadass just porn written like a horror movie “ - @delightful-dreadful

Buck tried to sleep. There was never anything else to do, so he might as well lay in bed. At night, the lodge creaked as the foundation shifted. It gave the illusion that someone was up and moving around. Most nights, Buck could ignore it. He would focus on the ever present chorus of crickets in the woods surrounding the lodge. When he closed his eyes, he could sometimes pretend he was outside there with them, resting on soft grass and damp soil under an open moon. 

Tonight was not one of those nights. 

It was windy in the way that suggested a storm was coming in. The gale shook the trees outside, pressed in through cracks in the lodge, like a breath through a wood instrument - it whistled. Every time he caught himself starting to drift off, he would hear it. It sounded like whispers. His mind filled in the rest, turning the wind into a Russian lilt. Words could not be comprehended, but he felt Petrova in the dark, and like the prey he was, it left him alert. 

His eyes burned each time he flicked the lights on only to find the room empty. He repeated the ritual until it broke any last hope he had for sleep tonight. He could be grateful for the tiniest kindness that Fletcher had traded the bracelet for being chained to the bed. Buck left his room. 

He passed closed doors, each hiding its own horror in the form of Fletcher’s students. They would sleep without disruption, somehow not weighted by their past actions, their future ones. Buck despised them for that.

He headed downstairs, wondering if he could lay down in the garden without the bracelet alerting Fletcher. He wasn’t sure he cared if it did. Whether Buck acted out or not, Fletcher still beat him. Nothing he did mattered. 

The lights were off downstairs except for a glow coming from the lounge. Buck’s breath got caught in his throat. He tried to recall if every bedroom door was shut, but already he was doubting his own memory. The wind pressed against the lodge and again he could hear Petrova’s whispers. Buck shut his eyes, expecting her to attack on sight, but nothing happened. 

“Buck?”

Buck’s eyes fluttered open. Fletcher sat cross-legged on the couch, illuminated by the tv screen. They ignored it in favor of examining the look on Buck’s face.

“Are you okay?” They asked. 

“Fine,” Buck answered, curtly. “Just...couldn’t get comfortable.” He didn’t want to explain. By now, Fletcher should already know the psychological damage they had put him through. If they didn’t, they either were truly a sociopath, or they didn’t care. 

“What are you doing up?” He debated asking to be let outside. Buck remembered how well that had gone last time, still feeling a ghost of pain where the bear trap had landed. 

“It’s my fucking house, Buck.” It was hard to argue with that answer. Buck was about to turn and head back to his room when Fletcher elaborated. “Needed a little ‘me’ time,” They said, pointing towards the television. “Now that the kids are in bed.” 

“Should I leave you alone?” Buck couldn’t tell if that was a subtle hint. 

“Nah, I’ve seen this one before.” Nonetheless, their eyes returned to the screen. “You could watch,” Fletcher offered. “Maybe then you’ll finally develop some taste.”

Buck sat on the other end of the couch, leaving a conscious space between himself and Fletcher. “Uh, yeah, sorry I had actual cool interests before I became the lodge’s pet.” Images flashed inaudibly on the screen, the volume muted. Instead, Fletcher had the subtitles turned on. Buck skimmed them, tired and unengaged in the film.

“Is that what you think of yourself?” Fletcher questioned. 

“I really don’t know what to call myself,” Buck confessed. ‘Pet’ seemed too friendly of a term. Prisoner held some dignity he didn’t seem to possess. 

Buck relaxed into the leather of the couch, cold until it warmed to his body temperature and worn enough to be comfortable. Fletcher similarly readjusted for comfort, Buck assumed. He noticed weight on the back of the couch behind him, Fletcher sprawling out casually, yet closing distance between them. 

The movie went on, viewed but unwatched by Buck. 

“Do you want my honest opinion?” Buck spoke up.

“Hm?”

“I don’t like it.” 

Fletcher laughed. “You’re really trying to get your ass kicked, huh?” They ruffled his hair playfully, which turned into their fingers resting in his hair. Buck swallowed. They stroked his hair back, smoothing it out. Hair follicles tingled where he was touched. Buck stole a glance at Fletcher. Their eyes were intent on him. Dark but reflecting light from the screen that continued on without their collective attention. They bore an expression Buck wasn’t sure how to read. They looked like a wolf with their prey gutted before them - no more chase to be had nor fight to win - just meat to be ripped from bone and consumed. 

“Are you aroused, Buck?” Fletcher asked him. 

“No.” The comfortable plaid lounge pants Fletcher had given him to sleep in were feeling a bit tight around his groin. It wasn’t related, Buck told himself. 

“Liar,” Their lips pulled into a smile. For a moment, Buck swore their teeth were sharpened at the canines, but it was a trick of the light. 

“So? It’s the gentlest anyone has touched me in a while,” he justified. 

“It has been awhile for you, huh?” The wolf prowled closer. Fletcher had a scar over their mouth. It was old and faint. He’d only noticed now that he had gotten a good look at their lips. 

Fletcher slid off of the couch, now kneeling on the ground. Their arms traced along his thighs. “Not much kindness for you to be had in this house,” They mused to themselves. Buck wasn’t sure where they were going with this. Well, he had a good guess. He knew where he’d like it to go, but wasn’t convinced he wasn’t walking into another bear trap. 

Their hands got dangerously high. Buck hissed in a breath.

“Are you going to hurt me?” Buck asked.

“No.” They tugged at the waistband of his pants. Buck shifted, helped shirk them down. “Quite the opposite.”

Cold air touched warm skin, flushed with blood. He felt vulnerable, not dissimilar to when he had been tied up in the basement, hands over his head so he couldn’t defend himself even if he wanted to. Fletcher’s breath crept along his member, causing it to further stiffen. Buck leaned his head back, his neck sinking into the plush back of the couch. He anticipated the welcoming warmth of Fletcher’s mouth, but it didn’t come. 

Buck peered at Fletcher before him.They were situated comfortably between his legs, looking up at him with that same bared teeth smile. 

“Yes?” they asked him. Buck blinked. 

“Um, yeah. Sure. Why not?”

“I’m not going to do it if you don’t want me to,” Fletcher explained. 

“This is the first time you’ve ever asked me for consent on something,” Buck pointed out. 

“I’m not a monster.”

That was debatable. Buck’s retort was silenced into a moan as Fletcher’s mouth covered him. He couldn’t tell if Fletcher was particularly skilled or if it was the lack of action that so easily caused Buck to melt in pleasure. 

He reached to card his fingers through Fletcher’s hair, but no sooner did his hand touch Fletcher, they pulled away, training their dark eyes on him. 

“No touching,” they ordered. 

He didn’t know what to do with his hands once Fletcher resumed. Buck found himself wishing Fletcher physically restrained him first to give his hands an excuse to be idle. It took him a moment to relax and allow his mind to go blank. 

But once it did. 

His breath hitched with every sweet sensation that darted through his veins. Buck covered his mouth with his hand as another moan ripped through his throat. Despite choosing to do so, a part of him imagined it was Fletcher silencing him. He pretended the fingers pressed to his lips were Fletcher’s and squeezed even tighter as if to say ‘quiet, so the others won’t hear you.’ What would the students do if their teacher was caught in the act? Buck had a feeling it would somehow affect him more than it would Fletcher. 

His hand slipped away from his mouth in order to speak. “I’m close,” he warned, his voice soft and raspy. Fletcher either failed to hear him or didn’t care, for they didn’t let up on his member until he released inside. 

Buck continued to stare at the ceiling, focusing on steadying his breath. He was cold and wet where Fletcher detached. Fletcher invaded his vision, leaning over his body. Yet another surprise, Fletcher kissed him. Their mouth wet and salty as their tongue pressed past his lips. Buck realized he was tasting himself.

They pulled away once more. Buck moved to cover himself. Fletcher was once again seated on the floor. Credits rolled on the screen behind their head. 

“Do you want me to…?” Buck broke off. 

“No,” Fletcher answered. They stood to turn the screen off. Buck’s mouth felt dry. He worried he did something wrong. 

“Then why…?”

Fletcher shrugged. “I wanted you to feel good. For once.” Buck continued to track Fletcher’s movements with his eyes. They moved slow but with purpose. “You should head to bed,” Fletcher told him. 

Hesitantly, Buck rose to his feet. Fletcher was waiting in the frame for him. They followed him back to his room, but didn’t enter after Buck. “This changes nothing,” Fletcher informed. They watched as Buck slid under the bedsheets. “Sleep tight.”