#it’s been a while since I’ve read these books so listening to them now and knowing what’s going to happen has me LMAO

[dominaxnoctis]

“When I tell you at that moment I wished I would have listened, ran out, and never looked back.” You know, sir, you could’ve still sat through the show and went on with your life if you didn’t yoink a goddamn vampire’s spider—

[waitimcomingtoo]

A Film By Peter Parker

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Synopsis: Peter gets back into making little videos once the two of you start hanging out

warning: extreme 2017 homecoming era nostalgia

Masterlist

Of course he went for Liz.

Liz was the ingénue. She was perfect in every possible way. Perfect grades, perfect face, and the perfect boy pining after her. You’d been crushing on Peter since the third grade but with Liz around, he never noticed you.

But Liz was gone now. She had moved to Oregon following her dad’s arrest and taken Peter’s feelings for her with her. Now that she was gone, you decided it was time to stop pining after Peter from afar and start pining from up close. And so, when you walked into the cafeteria that day, you didn’t sit at the end of the table like you usually did.

“Oh, hey.” Peter smiled in surprise when you sat down next to him. Smiling was good. Smiling meant he wasn’t creeped out by you sitting so close. You gulped before giving him best smile back.

“Hi.”

“What are you doing here?” Ned asked, making Peter give him a look. You immediately regretted your decision and wished you’d just stayed in your usual spot.

“What do you mean? She always sits with us.” Peter pointed out.

“No, she always sits down there. She’s never actually sat with us before.” Ned replied and gestured to the end of the lunch table.

“Yes, but I’m sitting here today because I needed Peters help with the chemistry homework.” You said and put your chemistry notebook on the table. You knew you couldn’t just randomly sit with them without a reason, so you came prepared.

“Oh, for Mr. Eddie’s class? It’s easy. I’ll show you my notes.” Peter’s offered with a smile. You returned the smile as he pulled out his own notebook. It was a win/win for you since you actually needed help with the homework and it would start a conversation with Peter. While he was explaining the problem to you, you never once looked down at the notebook. You were too focused on the curve of Peter’s suspiciously long eyelashes, the longest you’d ever seen on a boy. Ned noticed the way you were staring his his best friend and frowned a little.

“Does that make sense?” Peter’s asked when he was done explaining.

“Yeah, it does. Wow, thanks Peter. It sounds so easy the way you explain it. I wish this stuff came as naturally to me as it does for you. You’re so smart.” You said as if you had listened to a single word he had said.

“That’s nice of you to say but I’m really not that smart. I just like chemistry.” He replied as he blushed from the compliment.

“Oh, come on. You’re the smartest guy I know. You’re the only one that answers questions in that class. And you always get them right. When Mr. Eddie asks if anyone has any questions, I don’t raise my hand because I don’t even know what I’m confused about yet.”

“That’s I feel in English. I can barely make it through the first line in a poem and you’re already going back and forth with Ms. Teague about Pindaric odes or whatever they’re called.”

“You listen to when I talk in English?” You asked with a soft smile.

“Of course I do.” Peter shrugged. “I always find the reading boring until you raise your hand and talk about how you interpreted it. You make it interesting.”

“I liked that book we read when the kids ate the other kids.” Ned said and interrupted the moment. Your smile dropped as you and Peter looked at him with disgust.

“The one with the flies-“

“We know.” Peter cut him off.

“Anyways, thank you for helping me with the homework. I’ve been stuck on it all week.” You said to Peter.

“Ugh. That’s been me with my paper for Mrs. Teagues class. And it’s due tomorrow.” Peter groaned.

“Oh, the analysis essay? I could help you with that.” You offered.

“Really? You’d help me?” Peter smiled in surprise.

“Yeah. I already wrote mine. It would be no problem.”

Ned was watching this back and forth conversation for a while until it clicked it in head. He gasped and slapped the table, making you and Peter look at him.

“Oh my God.” Ned said. “That’s why you’re sitting here. You have a-“

“Can I talk to you for a second, Ned?” You quickly cut him off when you realized where that sentence was going. Before Ned could even answer, you grabbed his arm and pulled him outside the cafeteria to talk in private.

“You like Peter!” Ned whispered harshly. You clamped your hand over his mouth and pushed him up against the wall.

“You need to keep your mouth shut.” You hissed. “Yes, I like Peter, okay? I’ve had a crush on Peter since middle school. He never noticed me when Liz was around but now that she’s in Oregon, I might finally have my chance. I don’t want to scare him off so just keep your mouth shut and let me handle this.”

You took your hand off Ned’s mouth and he started to gasp for air.

“Oh, please. Your nose wasn’t covered. You could breathe just fine.” You said with a roll of your eyes. Ned stopped pretended and straightened up.

“So you actually like Peter? For his personality?”

“Yes. Is that so hard to believe?”

“Kinda, yeah.” Ned admitted.

“I like everything about him. And I’m gonna tell him that. Just please, don’t say anything before I do. I’ll tell him when I’m ready.”

“Are you going to cast a love spell on him using a lock of his hair?” Ned whispered to you.

“What? No. Why would you even ask me that?”

“Because you’re a witch.” Ned said like it was obvious.

“I’m not a witch.” You groaned. “I just accidentally cackled that one time but it was only because I had phlegm in my throat.”

“Then about that time on the bus?”

“We’ve been over this. It was just a coincidence that that biker fell off his bike after I gestured with my hand. I didn’t move him with my mind.”

“And that one time in physics?” Ned narrowed his eyes.

“I still don’t know how that guys shirt caught on fire.” You shrugged. “It’s a mystery to me.”

“It caught on fire after he made fun of you for being a witch.” Ned pointed out.

“Maybe he was just standing too close to the flame.” You shrugged.

“He was standing in the doorway. There was no flame.” Ned reminded you.

“The magic of science.” You shrugged again.

“But what about that time-“

“Don’t bring up the nosebleed.” You whined.

“I am gonna bring up the nosebleed.” Ned hissed. “In sixth grade, our Spanish teacher got a nosebleed right after he told you to stop staring out the window and made everyone laugh at you. How do you explain that?”

“You’ve made your point, okay? Now are you gonna tell Peter or not?”

“Look, I’m not gonna expose your gross secret feelings, as gross and secret as they may be.” Ned sighed. “But Peter is still my best friend so I have to look out for him. I don’t want any spells cast on him.”

“That’s fine. There will not be any spells.” You held your your hands in defense. Just then, Flash walked by and laughed when he saw the two of you talking.

“Woah. What is this, the friendless loser convention?” Flash snorted.

“Shut up.” You snapped. Flash immediately tripped over his feet and fell to the ground, making Ned look at you with wide eyes.

“Witch!” He whispered harshly as he pointed a finger at you.

“Shut up. Let’s go back inside.” You rolled your eyes and pulled Ned back into the cafeteria.

Later that day, you met up with Peter in the library to go over your assignments. You started with his English essay and finished that within an hour before moving on to your chemistry homework.

“You can plug the numbers into your formula now using the method I taught you. And then you just solve for x.” Peter explained as you worked out a problem together.

“Hm. You make it sound so simple.” You sighed and leaned on your hand. Peter saw the way you were staring at him in his peripheral vision and felt his face heat up.

“It’s, uh, it’s pretty easy once you get the hang of it. I never liked the way Mr. Eddie taught it. I figured this out myself and it’s worked much better for me.”

“Thanks for helping me. You’re a good teacher.” You said and put your hand on his arm. Peter laughed shyly at the contact and cleared his throat.

“Thanks. And so are you. That was the best essay I’ve ever produced. I honestly worry she won’t believe I wrote it.”

“Well if she says anything, I can vouch for you. You put in good work on this essay. You deserve the credit.” You assured him, making Peter blush all over again. It occurred to Peter that he never realized how pretty you were. You’d been classmates since 3rd grade so he always looked at you as just another girl in his class. Now that you had his full attention, he didn’t feel like looking away.

“Thanks. I appreciate you helping me write it. I know it can be frustrating to work with me because of my dyslexia.”

“It’s no problem. And it wasn’t frustrating at all.” You shrugged. Peter smiled at felt better about how long it took him to write the essay.

“Thanks.” He said. You had successfully gotten him to spend time with you one on one but now you needed to commence the next phase in your plan which was to hang out in a non school related setting.

“Would you ever want to hang out socially?” You blurted.

“Like, and not do homework?” He asked. You nodded your head and he smiled before nodding as well.

“Yeah. Sure. I’d love to.”

“Cool. Me too.” You smiled. You hadn’t meant to blurt it out like that but it worked nonetheless.

“Does this weekend work?” He asked you.

“Yeah. What do you want to do?”

Hard cut to that weekend. You were on the subway with Peter and he had his phone out to record himself.

“Firts social hang out with a girl. A film by Peter Parker.” He said in a low voice before flipping the camera to face you.

“Staring me.” You smiled and waved to the camera.

“Are you sure you’re cool with me filming this?” Peter asked as he flipped the camera back to himself.

“Yeah, of course. The other ones you showed me were so cute. But why did it seem like there were so many missing parts? You were always talking about something cool that I didn’t get to see.”

“Uhhh, no reason.” Peter said and looked to the side. He had skillfully edited out any incriminating superhero activity that you were not ready to see yet.

“Well I like it. I feel like I’m on Modern Family.” You said and posed for the camera.

“Which family member would you be?” Peter laughed and zoomed in on you. With his phone blocking his face, he could shamelessly admire your face on his screen.

“Duh. Lily.”

“I can so see that.” He chuckled. The subway lurched suddenly and you both grabbed onto the pole, coincidentally putting your hands in top of each others.

“Oh, sorry. Our hands touched.” You laughed shyly.

“Oh my God. So romantic.” Peter joked, making you blush and look into his camera.

“Stop it.” You laughed and covered his phone with your hand. He laughed as well and put his phone away.

After learn you had never been, Peter decided to the Lego Store. He’d been hyping it up to you all week over text and now that it was finally happening, he hoped it impressed you. You walked in together and Peter heard you gasp.

“Big Lego Aladdin.” You gasped and ran to stand under the giant magic carpet and Aladdin made of Legos.

“That’s the first time I’ve ever heard that string of words come out of someone’s mouth.” Peter laughed and went to stand under it with you. You looked over at him and were surprised to see he was already looking at you.

“This is even better than you described it. You need to show me everything.” You said and excitedly shook his arm.

“I can do that.” He blushed and nodded his head towards some of the sets.

Peter took out his phone to film you as you looked at everything in the store. The way you were looking around like a little kid brought a smile to Peter’s face. He zoomed in on you and caught himself staring at you fondly through the camera.

“Come on. I haven’t even showed you the coolest part yet.” Peter said and brought you over to the build your figure own station. He laughed when you gasped again and started to excitedly rummage through all the pieces. Peter didn’t bring his phone out again until you had built each other.

“Show me what you made.” He laughed from the other side of the phone.

“Looks! It’s a little Peter. He has a backpack and a beaker.” You said as you proudly showed the camera the little Peter figure you had made.

“This is Y/n. I can’t believe I found the shoes you always wear.” He said as he filmed the figure he had made of you.

“You notice my shoes?” You asked with a smile. Peter didn’t catch it because he was too busy fitting the hands of your Lego figures together.

“Look. They’re holding hands.” Peter gasped.

“Aw.” You laughed. “Us on the subway.”

“We should give them some privacy. They might not want us to hard launch their relationship.” Peter said and put his phone away.

“You’re so cute.” You laughed without thinking about it. Peter looked up at you with rosy cheeks and you gulped when you realized what you said.

“I mean-“

“Come on. I wanna take you somewhere else.” He cut you off before you could explain. He brought you to Delmar’s and ordered his usual for you to split. You sat together inside and you tried your best to remain calm. You always wondered what Peter got up to when he wasn’t at school and now you were in one of his favorite places and eating with him.

“Okay, this is Y/n’s first time eating at Delmars since he reopened. Let’s get her reaction.” Peter said as he filmed you unwrapping the sandwich.

“Wait, why is it so flat?” You laughed and held the sandwich up.

“Oh, sorry.” He chuckled. “I forgot to warn you that he always squishes it for me. But you’ll like it. Trust me. It’s much better when it’s squished down real flat.”

“Well I’m glad I now know you like your sandwiches to be squished. I would not have expected that about you.” You said and took a bite of your half before giving him a thumbs up.

“Yeah? You like it?” He asked hopefully.

“I do. Your squishy sandwich was surprisingly good.” You admitted.

“Well, I’m very pleased to hear that.” Peter smiled and phone away. “So to make it even, you have to show me one of your favorite places next time we hang out.”

“Oh.” You smiled coyly. “I didn’t realize there would be a next time.”

“There better be. I had a lot of fun with you today. How come we’ve never hung out before?”

“I don’t know. I always wanted to but you were busy running around with Ned or staring at…” You trailed off and chose not to mention Liz in case he was still hung up on her.

“It doesn’t matter. I’m just glad we’re friends now.” You said instead.

“Me too. I’ve never had a girl friend.”

“What was that?” You said and started choking on your saliva.

“All my friends in my life were guys. It’ll be nice to have a female influence in my life.”

“Oh. Girl friend.” You smiled tightly.

You hung out another hour before taking the subway back to your respective apartments. Peter walked to you the front doors of you building and you had an awkward moment where you didn’t know if you should hug or not.

“We uh, we should probably get an ending for your film.” You said with a timid smile.

“Oh, right. Thats a great idea.” Peter smiled and pulled out his phone. He pressed record and you waved to the camera with both hands.

“So, can you give our first time hanging out a rating?” He asked you.

“9/10.” You grinned and held up two thumbs.

“What? Why’d I only get a 9?” Peter scoffed and pretended to be offended.

“I had a 10/10 time but I have to deduct a point because we saw that guy cutting his hair on the subway and I was scared he was gonna throw the scissors at us.”

“Well I would’ve just protected you with my lightning fast reflexes.” Peter said simply. You smiled at him through the phone and he smiled back. He put the camera down and looked at you with a content smile on his face.

“Seriously, though. When’s the next time we’re hanging out?”

It ended up being just a few days later. And then again a few days after that.

“Peter’s first time!” You cheered as you filmed him during one of your hang outs.

“Trying boba.” He clarified. “I don’t understand this drink. Do I eat the balls?”

“Yes. Sip it slowly so they don’t all go down your throat.” You instructed. Peter took a big sip and immediately started choking.

“Peter! I said slowly!” You said as you slapped his back until he stopped choking. You quickly put the camera down to help him recover.

Your hangouts started getting more and more frequent and Peter soon considered you a best friend. Your weekends became each others and school days were often spent together in the library or at one of your apartments. You were quickly moving up the ranks in Peter’s life, just as you hoped. And the closer you got, the more Peter could not believe he had never noticed you before.

Little did you know, Peter often found himself watching the footage he had taken of you during your hang outs with a big smile on his face. He’d rewatch the videos he had taken and realize that they were slowly becoming less of a documentary and more of a highlight reel for you. He never imagined a girl as cool as you would for him so when he realized he was starting to fall for you, he quickly repressed his feelings. Little did he know, the feelings were mutual.

“Did you always make these little videos?” You asked Peter one day as he filmed you trying to balance on the curb of the sidewalk.

“I used too make them all the time but I hadn’t for awhile. I only started them again when we started hanging out.”

“Really? Why?” You wondered and stumbled off the curb.

“I don’t know. You remind me of the time before my life got crazy. It made me want to do these again.” He shrugged. You couldn’t help but smile at that information and turned around to look at him.

“So I could be the star?” You asked and posed for the camera.

“Exactly. You’re my muse.” He played along, making you laughed shyly. When he watched the video back later that night, he knew he had meant every word of that.

Peter sat in his bedroom one day and filmed himself wearing your glasses while you did homework at his desk. He looked over you every now and then just to admire the back of your head.

“Don’t break those.” You called without looking up. All you needed to hear was the sound of your glasses case opening to know what he was doing.

“I’m not even wearing your glasses.” He lied and admired himself in the camera.

“Yes you are.”

“No I’m not. But yes, I am.”

“Knew it.” You snorted.

“Hey, how come girls always smell so good?” Peter wondered. “Your hair hit me in the face when you turned too fast before it smelled like a baby in a damn meadow.”

“It’s just my womanly essence. Now can you stop looking at yourself long enough to help me with my chemistry homework?”

“It’ll be hard but I can try.” Peter dramatically sighed and set his phone down. You got yo from the desk and went over to the bed with a cheeky smile on your face.

“Incoming.” You announced and patted your elbow twice like a wrestler.

“No, don’t.” He pleaded. You ignored his pleas and jumped on top of him. He groaned and pushed you off, leaving you laying in the bed beside him.

“Ow. My ribs.”

“You’ll heal.” You rolled your eyes. “Now can you help me with number 7?”

“Oh, yeah. No problem. Can you check this email before I send it?” He asked and handed over his laptop. You handed him your worksheet before reading over his email draft.

“Oh, honey.” You grimaced just a few words into the email.

“Is it bad?”

“Good evening, Mrs. Howard. I hope this email finds you well. I’m so sorry for bothering you. I was just wondering if I could possibly have an extension on my midterm paper? No worries at all if an extension is not possible. I apologize for any inconvenience this email may have caused. Thank you for reading, Peter Parker.” You read out loud.

“What’s wrong with that?”

“After your name, you included the name of the class, the time you have it, and a description of yourself. She knows who you are!” You laughed and turned the laptop around to show him his mistakes.

“She may have forgotten.” He pointed out. “I can’t take any chances.”

“Peter, this email is way too submissive. You sound like such a bottom.”

“Well excuse me, genius.” He said sarcastically. “How would you write it?”

“Here.” You said and handed the laptop back after retyping his email.

“Oh, wow. That’s actually really good.” He said once he read your updated version.

“This is why we are such good friends. You have all the math and science knowledge in this little, beautiful head of yours-“

“Little?” He interrupted.

“You’re right. Sorry, I was just being nice. What I meant to say is that your head is huge.” You corrected. “Anyways, you have the math brain and I have the literary brain. It’s like you’re Einstein and I’m Victor Hugo.”

“Who the hell is that?” He laughed as he peaked at your mirror to see if his head was actually huge.

“The guy who wrote Les Mis.” You said like it was obvious.

“Never heard of it.”

“What? You’ve never seen Les Misérables?” You asked in a thick French accent.

“Huh?”

“We have to watch it. It’s so good.” You said and snatched his laptop back. You pulled up the movie and handed it back to him.

“Oh my God. It’s two hours and 38 minutes long? And a musical? Hell no.” Peter shook his head and pushed the laptop away.

“But it’s so good.” You urged. “We can just leave it on in the background while we work. It’s super light and easy to watch.”

“Really? What’s it about?”

“Oh, you know. Just war torn France.” You mumbled.

“No. Absolutely not.”

“But you’ll like it! There’s prostitution and con men and um…oh! And orphans! You can watch it and feel represented.” You said and shook his arm.

“I hate you.” He laughed but nearly gave in to your request just to see you happy.

“Fine.” You huffed. “I finished editing your midterm paper, by the way. You don’t actually have to send that email.”

“And here is your completed chemistry homework.” Peter smiled and handed your worksheet back.

“Aw.” You gushed. “Look at us. I love cheating with you.”

“So do I. We make a great pairing.” He chuckled as he looked over at you. You looked back at him and gulped. You hadn’t realized how close you were with your arms and legs pressed against each other as you sat together in your bed. Peter knew his sheets would smell like your perfume that night and smiled at the thought.

“Now that we’re all done with our work, you know what we should do?” He asked as he moved in closer.

“W-what should we do?” You stuttered now that he was right there.

“You know what I’ve been dying to do with you for a long, long time?” He asked.

“No. I mean, I don’t know. What?” You laughed nervously. Peter moved in even closer and right when you thought he was gonna kiss you, he reached over and grabbed his laptop back.

“I wanted to show you a real musical. Not this French miserable bull crap. Have you ever seen a little movie called Hair-“

“No. I’m not watching Hairspray with you again. You scream-sang every lyric last time and I couldn’t even hear it.” You cut him off and reached over home to take the laptop back. He pulled it away at the last second and you ended up on top of him. You looked into each others eyes and both froze in the positions you were in. Your faces were almost touching but neither of you tried to pull away. Your eyes were going back and forth between his lips and eyes and he was doing the same. Like magnets, you two started to lean towards each other but before your lips could connect, May opened the door.

“What did you guys want- oh! Sorry! I didn’t realize I would be interrupting something. My bad.” May smiled sheepishly and pretended to cover her eyes. Peter burned bright red as you quickly climbed off of him.

“May.” He said warningly.

“Sorry. But maybe lock the door next time. And use protection.”She whispered the last part before shutting the door.

“May!” He groaned and threw a pillow at the door. There was a long, awkward silence before you were even able to look at each other. When you finally did, you smiled awkwardly and kept your distance.

“That was so weird. What did she think we were doing?” You laughed nervously to break the silence.

“Psh. I know.” Peter scoffed. “She said she was interrupting but we weren’t even doing anything.”

“Yeah. What did she think? That we were gonna kiss or something?” You asked and laughed like it was the most ridiculous thing you could ever suggest.

“Us? Kissing? How silly. Imagine that.” Peter forced a laugh as well and looked to the side. The awkward silence returned and you struggled to look at each other.

“Do you think she made dinner?” Peter asked after a beat of silence.

“Let’s check.” You said and quickly got off the bed.

You didn’t discuss the almost kiss and went home shortly after. You couldn’t sleep that night because you couldn’t stop replaying the moment in your mind. No matter how much you wanted him to like you back, if Peter reciprocated your feelings, he would have kissed you.

Your pity party didn’t last long because on the subway the next day, you felt Peter put his earbud in your ear. You heard the Les Mis soundtrack playing in your ear and looked up in surprise. Peter was already filming you with a huge smile on his face.

“This guy 24601 should stop stealing bread and stick to singing. He has serious pipes.” Peter said.

“You listened to it?” You melted into a smile and held your hand over your heart.

“Yep. I stayed up all night watching lyric videos because I couldn’t understand what they were saying with their accents. It’s actually really good. I love Eponine. I just wish Marious wasn’t such an idiot. How does he not see that his best friend is clearly in love with him?” Peter asked with exasperation. You looked directly at the camera and hoped it picked up the irony before looking at Peter again.

“He’s not an idiot. He’s a romantic.” You sighed. “He doesn’t notice Eponine because he’s in love with Cosette. And course he is. She’s prettier and richer and has perfect hair. He doesn’t even see Eponine.”

“Good hair isn’t everything. Eponine is way better than Cosette.” Peter scoffed. “I’m team Eponine all the way.”

“Are you really?” You asked hopefully.

“Oh, for sure. I see why you like this stuff. These songs are awesome.” Peter said and put the other earbud in his ear. He then flipped the camera around to film the two of you sharing earbuds. As Heart Full Of Love played in your ears, you couldn’t help but longingly staring at Peter. The fact that he had stayed up late just to listen to something you suggested made you overcome with fondness for him. If he had done something like that, maybe he actually did feel the same.

“I forgot how good this album is. I haven’t listened in a while. I used to listen to it all the time back when you…” You stopped short when you realized you were about to say too much.

“When I what?” Peter wondered. You looked him in the eyes and decided that it was time to be honest. The song ended and a new, much louder one began to play in your ears.

“Back when you liked Liz. She was Cosette. I was Eponine. I was the one pining after a guy who never noticed me because he was in love with another girl. You were never mine to lose.” You admitted. Peter stared at you for a minute before pulling his earbud out.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t hear a word you just said. Master of the House is such a banger. What did you say?” He asked you.

“Never mind.” You smiled. “It wasn’t important.”

He smiled back before getting a text on his phone. You looked at his phone when you heard it buzz and realized he was still recording. In other words, he had just recorded you saying you liked him. Your eyes went wide but you only had a second to panic when you read the text he had gotten.

“Did Liz just text you?” You asked in a quiet voice. You felt like you were about to throw up. Years of crushing on a boy who liked another girl turned into months of pinning for your best friend and now turned into a rock in your stomach. Peter stopped recording the two of you to answer her text, which felt a little like a slap in the face.

“Oh, yeah. We’ve been talking lately.” He absentmindedly replied to you as he laughed at whatever she had written.

“You have?” You asked with a dry mouth.

“Yeah. She says Oregon is pretty cool. But she wants to come back and visit this summer to see everyone.” He told you.

“And see you?” You asked with a sad smile.

“I guess so.” He shrugged. “It would be nice to see her.”

“Yeah. Totally.” You said weakly. “So how long have you guys been talking?”

“I don’t know. A few weeks? She texted me a little while ago and we’ve been catching up.”

“That’s awesome.” You lied.

“I know. I didn’t think I’d ever hear from her again after she moved.”

“Neither did I.” You said through a forced smile. You needed to get off the subway and away from Peter before you started crying. So as soon as the subway doors opened, you bolted out.

“I gotta go. See you later.” You called to him before running through the subway station. You wiped tears as you went up the stairs and didn’t stop moving until you were in a bathroom stall at school. You gave yourself five minutes to be upset before drying your face and leaving the bathroom. It sucked, but it could have been worse. Now, Peter never had to know how you felt about it.

Peter was beyond confused by your exit on the subway but he wasn’t about to get any answers from you. You dodged his texts throughout the day and didn’t dare go into the lunchroom where you knew he and Ned would be.

��Y/n isn’t here yet?” Peter’s huffed as he sat down at your usual lunch table.

“Not yet. Actually, I haven’t seen your girlfriend all day.” Ned realized.

“She’s not my girlfriend.” Peter blushed. “And I’m pretty sure she’s avoiding me. She’s been so weird ever since this morning. Everything was fine on the subway until we got to school.”

“Well did anything happen on the subway that would weird her out? Oh no. Did you graze her boob with your hand again?”

“No. That was one time. And it was her boobs fault, not mine.” Peter whispered harshly. “We were just listening to music together and I was filming her like normal. But she could not get away from me faster once the doors opened. It was so weird.”

“Did you say anything weird to her? Girls don’t like it when you say weird things to them.”

“I know that. I didn’t say anything weird.” Peter replied as he pulled out his phone. He watched the video he had taken on the subway with no sound to see where he had gone wrong. All he saw was you looking at him with heart eyes which made his face heat up. But still, no evidence of where he messed up.

“I knew it. We were having a normal conversation about Les Mis and then I got a text from and then she ran. It makes no sense.”

“What was the text? Was it May saying something weird?”

“No. And stop saying weird. It doesn’t sound like a real word anymore.” Peter ordered. “And the text was just from Liz.”

“Oh shit.” Ned said when he heard this.

“What?” Peter wondered.

“Oh, Peter.” Ned sighed. “Peter, Peter, Peter.”

“What?” He asked again, annoyed now.

“Peter, Peter, Peter, Peter, Peter.”

“Are you gonna tell me what happened or just keep saying my name?”

“I can’t tell you. I’m sworn to secrecy. And I don’t want Y/n to put a hex on my family.” Ned said and held up his hands.

“Y/n swore you to secrecy? About what?”

“Can’t say.” Ned shrugged and zipped his lips.

“Does she not like Liz? And doesn’t want me to know?”

“Dude. Dude, dude, dude, dude. You are so close but so far.”

“So she does like Liz? Oh my God. Does she a crush on Liz? And she’s jealous that Liz texted me and not her?” Peter whispered with wide eyes.

“You’re getting colder.” Ned waved his hand. “I don’t even know how you got there.”

“That was all my guesses. Just tell me.” Peter whined.

“Hell no. I don’t want Y/n to curse my crops and make not grow for all of eternity.”

“You don’t have crops.” Peter pointed out.

“I could develop some.” Ned snapped.

“I just don’t understand what she would tell you something but not tell me. We’re best friends. She usually tells me everything.” Peter said right as his thumb accidentally hit the volume button on the video. Your confession to Peter on the subway was heard loud and clear by the two boys. Both of their jaws dropped as the video ended with you asked if Liz had just texted Peter.

“Well I wouldn’t have beaten around the bush like that if I knew you had video evidence of her saying she liked you right in your hands.” Ned sighed dramatically.

“I need to find her.” Peter said and ran out of the lunchroom. He looked around the school until he found you under the bleachers in the gym. You were sitting with your back against the wall and your knees drawn to your chest with your earbuds in your ears. When you saw Peter coming up to you, you quickly pulled them out.

“Hey.” He said and waved cautiously.

“Hey.” You smiled sadly as he sat beside you. You sat in silence for a minute as neither of you knew what to say.

“What’s going on with you? I haven’t seen you all day.” He started off. You looked at your hands to avoid making eye contact and sighed.

“Why didn’t you tell me you’ve been talking to Liz?” You asked quietly.

“I don’t know. I wasn’t hiding it. I just didn’t think it would interest you.”

“Well you have no idea how interesting I found it.” You laughed dryly. “What do you guys talk about anyway?”

“Well, she originally texted me to ask me to confirm I had an internship at Stark Industries because her boyfriend didn’t believe her when she told him she knew a guy who worked there. Apparently he’s been trying to get an internship there for years and he wanted to know how I landed mine. Then we just started catching up. I only talk to her here and there, though. And it’s only ever about school or work.”

“Oh. I thought you guys were talking talking.” You couldn’t help but smile a little when you heard the word “boyfriend.”

“No.” He shook his head. “Just regular talking. When you saw her text on my phone, she was telling me about her cat getting spaded. And I didn’t know what that meant so she had to tell me. I should’ve just googled it.”

You laughed softly at that and he did too. The tension was let out of the conversation and you could finally breathe again. When you stopped laughing, you finally looked in his eyes.

“Do you still have feelings for her?” You asked quietly.

“For her? No.” He laughed. “Those are long gone. I have feelings for someone else now.”

“Oh God. Don’t even tell me. I don’t want to know.” You groaned and buried your face in your hands. Peter looked at you for a minute until an idea came to him.

“Actually, uh, I came looking for you because I was just making another video. Wanna be in it?” Peter asked and took out his phone. You looked at him like he was crazy and could not believe he had just asked that during that moment.

“I’m not really in the mood right now, P.”

“Come on. I can’t make it without my muse.” He said and nudged you slightly. You couldn’t help but to smile at that and reluctantly nodded. He propped up his phone against the bleachers and pressed record.

“In a world where two best friends have no idea how to communicate despite spending way too much time together.” Peter said in a fake deep, gravely voice.

“Okay. Shade. That’s fine.”

“What will it take for them to admit they have feelings for each other?” He kept the voice as he looked at you.

“Wait, what?” You asked and looked at him with furrowed eyebrows. Peter smiled softly at you and shrugged a little.

“What’s it gonna take?” He asked again in his normal voice.

“I don’t understand.” You laughed nervously.

“I watched the video from before. From the subway. I heard what you said.” He admitted.

“Oh shit. You watched it?” You grimaced.

“Uh huh. So if you’re Eponine, I guess that makes me the idiot who didn’t realize his best friend was in love with him?”

“I guess so.” You said with a tight smile and still didn’t understand why he wanted to film this incredibly awkward conversation.

“You know, if I didn’t have a video of it, I never would have believed that you liked me.” Peter told you.

“You wouldn’t? Why not?”

“Because it doesn’t seem possible that the coolest girl I’ve ever met liked me.” He replied.

“You think I’m cool?” You asked skeptically.

“I think you’re the coolest. And you know, I watch the videos I take of you all the time. And half of them are just clips of you existing. So I do notice you. It just took me a second to catch up.” He told you. A smile tugged at your lips as you stared into his big brown eyes.

“You’re my best friend.” You told him. “I’m sorry I want more.”

“I’m not sorry.” He shrugged.

“You’re not?”

“I’m just sorry it took me so long to wake up and find that what I’ve been looking for has been here the whole time.” He said as he hooked his pinky under your chin and brought your face close to his.

“Wait, why does that sound so familiar?” You wondered.

“Don’t think about it too hard.” Peter whispered right before your lips touched. You kissed for the first time under the bleachers but it could have been in a palace for all you knew. The world disappeared around you as Peter slipped a hand behind your head to deepen the kiss. When you pulled away, you rested your foreheads together and laughed nervously together. It was a good nervous, a happy feeling of anticipation.

“Was that Taylor Swift?” You realized when you finally placed where you knew that like from.

“Shh. No.” He shook his head. “But yes, it was. You’re not the only one with good music taste.”

Tag List 🏷️

@thebookwormlife @imanativeofswlondondahling

@tom-hollands-wifey

@whatareyouhidingpeter @takenbyheartstrings

@imyourliquor-youremypoison @andreasworlsboring101

@peterparkoure

@justcallmehitgirl @jackiehollanderr

@emmamarshmellow @unbelievableholland

@sovereignparker @every-marveler-ever @undiadeestos @eridanuswave​ ​

@solarxmoonchild @canyouevencauseicant

@quaksonhehe @lovelessdagger

@thesuitelifeofafangirl @marshxx @nooneinvitedfascistbarbie

@maybemona

@alexxcorona113 @lethal-wisdom

@pandaxnienke

 @officialsimppage @peterbenjiparker @itsemohours

@freakofmusic25 @tomholland85

@olixerwxxd @leilanixx

@whereismytelephone @so-very-asleep @white-wolf1940

@spideyspeaches @hihiweezing

@mathletemadison  

@dhtomholland @insomniac-nerd-posts-things @prancerrparkerr

@hallecarey1 @adayasgeorgia @blackwidowisthebest @imawhoreforu

@ciarahollands

@nellabellaa @pinklxmonade @boogywoogywoogy

[zeppelinlvr]

Still Feel Like That

Dean Winchester x Female Reader

Summary: you accompany Dean, Sam, and Bobby on a hunt. You and Dean go out for a drink and Dean looks after you when you've had too much to drink.

Notes: Reader is a yapper (cus same), kinda implied that reader is Bobby's kid but it's not stated outright, sorry if you like Poison or Bret Micheals reader hates on them for a second, I assumed that Dean switched out his radio with one that would be compatible with cassettes since a 67' would likely have a 8 track player, I got lazy with my research so I apologize if any facts are incorrect (feel free to correct me).

Warnings: Suggestive language, flirting, cursing, mentions of throwing up, y/n is used like three times, Dean in his undies (yummy!)

Word Count: 4.1k

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You sat at Bobby’s old wooden table, sipping hot coffee from your Garfield mug. You didn’t own it but when you saw the grumpy orange cat with a text saying ‘I'm listening I just don’t care’ sitting on Bobby’s shelf of mismatched old mugs you’d used the cup ever since. 

You sat in your pajama shorts, slippers, and an old tee shirt, the cracked text reading “Winfield national flatpickin’ championships”. The shirt previously belonged to Bobby and he couldn’t remember how he acquired such an item, he assumed he was passing through Kansas and picked it up along the way, but you loved it so much he felt it was necessary to give it to you. 

You were reading through a book you had picked up on demonology. Bobby had given you a few vague events that had occurred and you were trying to figure out what exactly he was dealing with. You had a book on Pagan gods on standby. 

You heard the front door open, figuring it was Bobby you chose to continue reading but when you heard unfamiliar voices you quickly looked up in a panic, nearly knocking your chair over to try to scramble and find Bobby. You were not a hunter by any means, you just did the research and stayed in the comfort of motels. You knew some basic self defense but you could not fight a serious threat on your own.

You were making a dash for the nearest room when you heard Bobby yell your name. 

You quickly spun around to look at him, seeing two tall, handsome, potentially dangerous, men standing next to him. 

“What the hell are you doing kid?” Bobby asked you, concerned by your panic stricken expression.

“I heard people- and I was trying to find you and not die” You uttered out, still confused about who the two other men were. “Sorry, who the hell are these guys” you added 

“Sam and Dean I talk-” Bobby started but you cut him off 

“Winchester?” you asked excitedly “Bobby talks about you two all the time and I really wanted to meet both of you, especially Dean, Bobby says you make stupid decisions but you sound fun” you rambled quickly, a smirk growing on the shorter ones face at your mention of him. 

“Oh my god you have to be Sam, you totally have that sad puppy look” you said to the taller one “You could ask me to donate my life savings to a charity then build a shelter for the homeless and I totally would” you continued to talk.

“I like her” the shorter man who you had now assumed was Dean said with a grin 

“Wait Dean” you started turning to him “Did you drive your car here, I’ve heard rumors it's a totally awesome 67’ impala and I’ve been dying to see it” 

Before Dean could respond with a comment about how you were marriage material Bobby interrupted your rambling “Okay motor mouth, I’m sure Sam and Dean are enthralled by your commentary but they need our help” 

“Are you the super smart Y/n?” Sam asked 

“The one who has saved our asses more times than we can count” Dean added

“Yes, that's her, and I don't prefer to shout about her to the whole world because she's not exactly Hulk Hogan” Bobby said, growing slightly annoyed with the continued blabbering. 

“Really? Hulk Hogan? You have to compare me to that doofus, call me Bret Micheals while you’re at it” You shot at him 

“I’m sorry, would you prefer to be Kerry VonErich” Bobby sighed 

“Yes, minus his incredibly tragic life” you said as you crossed your arms over your chest. 

“Bobby why have we not met this chick sooner, she's awesome” Dean said slightly in awe. 

“You two don't care to stop by all that often and I knew you and her would get along real well and we wouldn't get anything done” Bobby responded hinting at the exact situation that was happening. 

“Let me see Dean’s car then I promise I will be productive” you offered

“Yeah let her see my car” Dean added, Sam smiling at the situation and Bobby rolling his eyes and reluctantly agreeing. 

The four of you made your way outside and when you saw the impala you let out a gasp of excitement before sprinting towards it. 

“She is so beautiful” you gushed to Dean “You keep her in phenomenal condition, does she run well?” 

“Like she’s new” Dean responded, smiling at your excitement over the car. 

“Is there an 8 track player? I have a few tapes I could give you if you want” You offered 

“Switched it out for a cassette player” Dean told you

“Good choice, 8 tracks are such a hassle, you can hear another song playing in the background of whatever you're trying to listen to, and don't even think about trying to fast forward to get to the song you want, at least you have a slim chance to land on the right song with cassettes” you rambled 

“Yeah no kidding, you wanna see my tape collection” Dean offered 

“Nope, we agreed on just the car now we need to figure out what the hell is going on in Pawnee Nebraska” Bobby interrupted as the four of you made your way back into the house 

“I’m so sick of going to these ho-hum towns, why can't you guys hunt things that reside in memphis or something, I want to go to a museum that isn't about the butter cow or a mayor who died of dysentery” You said with a sigh

“Hunting in this ho hum town means road trip and i'm sure Dean would be delighted to let you ride down with him” Bobby offered for Dean, partly because he wanted some silence in his own car and he also wanted you, Dean, and Sam to be able to talk as much as you pleased and hopefully be caught up so you could focus on working. 

Dean agreed to the idea and Sam shrugged, hoping you would prevent bickering between him and his brother. 

“I promised I’d focus so Sam, you’re smart, have you found out more than some bad weather and a ‘still under investigation death of a couple’” You asked, turning to the taller brother, offering him a smile, slightly feeling bad you’d paid so much attention to his brother and not talked to Sam much. 

“Yeah, I think the weather is unrelated, I found autopsy reports and the couple had these wounds on the back of their necks. I don't recognize the pattern but you might be able to” he replied to you with a soft smile, he made his way to his computer and set it on the table where your abandoned books and coffee lay. 

You made a noise of disgust upon seeing the picture but you instantly recognized the wound pattern “That has to be changelings, they feed off of the mother until she dies, it's so creepy” You started “In a lot of the books I’ve read they switch out an infant for a changeling, did the couple have a kid?” you asked 

“Yeah, but she's a little girl who’s ten years old” Sam replied to you

“Different cultures have varying takes on changelings, some of them say they can grow and develop like a human would, so it's definitely a possibility” You told him “We have to get down there asap before more kids are switched out, and when you figure out where the little girl is at now, monitor her behavior closely, she's gonna be hungry and use abnormal phrases for a ten year old.” You explained

“Alright you heard her” Dean said, squeezing between you and Sam and placing a hand on your shoulder. He secretly wanted your attention back on him. 

“Let me pack a bag and change then I’ll be ready to head out” you told them

“Same goes for me, give us five minutes” Bobby added

You headed to your room and changed into jeans and tee shirt, additionally throwing on a crewneck from a college in Louisiana that you had found in the aisles of a thrift store. 

You threw a few additional outfits in a duffle bag and your pajamas which consisted of sleep shorts and a tee shirt, you threw your slippers for your constantly cold feet in the bag and you were ready to go. 

Your socked feet padded against the floor as you made your way to the front door to grab your shoes. You threw them on and told the group you were ready to go. 

Dean, Sam and you crowded into the impala, Dean leaping on the opportunity to tell Sam to sit in the back after you had informed the brothers you get carsick. 

“I have zofran, Sam can sit in the front, I don't want to take his spot” you said 

“Nope, Sam get in the back” Dean quickly said as he took his spot in the driver's seat. 

After the three of you had gotten in the car and started on the trip Sam complained “Dean, I know there's a pretty girl but what if I get carsick in the back” 

“You won't, and the very pretty girl won't complain about my music choices” Dean told him and raised his brows at you.

Your face heated at how they referred to you, you cleared your throat and changed the subject “I know you guys are more hands on than me so I know a few ways to figure these things out, different folklore says if you can make them laugh they’ll reveal their truth, or you can shout god bless you, you can cook with eggshells. German legends say you can whip the child but honestly the easiest way to kill them is just lighting the fuckers on fire” You explained “People used to throw them in the fireplace or in the oven but you can get away with a blowtorch and a can of hairspray” 

“That's more our speed” Dean replied 

“People were seriously throwing these things in ovens?” Sam asked “What if the kid wasn't actually a changeling” 

“People got overly paranoid and it wasnt exactly common knowledge back then that someone could be born with physical or mental disabilities, also families used to be really reliant on everyone in the household being able to help out so a lot of child abuse ensued because parents didnt want to have a changeling on their hands” You explained “Anyway these things creep me out so lets talk about something more lighthearted on the way there” 

“i agree sweetheart” Dean said and you blushed at the name “I heard your comment about Bret Micheals, are you a Poison hater” 

“I can tolerate them but I will not go out of my way to listen to them, they’re definitely one of the lamest hair bands” you told him “I definitely prefer Van Halen, Quiet Riot, Def Leppard and Cinderella if I’m going to listen to hair bands” 

“Atta girl, you don’t like that Barry Manilow bullshit do you?” Dean asked 

“God no, fuck Styx too, that Babe song pisses me off” you laughed 

“Cus you know it’s you babe” Sam started singing off key and you groaned in annoyance, Dean laughing. 

The three of you talked about music, movies, and Sam and Dean's past hunts, asking odd would you rather questions when trying to think of new conversation topics 

“Okay would you rather have to eat a little bit of cheese on everything or never eat cheese again” you asked 

“Never eat cheese again” Sam quickly answered 

“I’d put a little bit on everything I fucking love cheese” you answered 

After extensive conversation and small bits of bickering the three of you made it to Nebraska, Bobby close behind.

Dean checked into the hotel, getting two rooms, one for him and Sam and one for you and Bobby. He gave the woman behind the counter a credit card with a name that most certainly was not his then the three of you made your way to the rooms. Dean opened the door to one of the rooms and the cowboy theme of the room made you laugh.

“You sure know how to pick ‘em’ Dean” you said 

“It’s fun, this cowboy boot pen holder on the desk is cute” he said, picking up the small red ceramic boot with a few pens sticking out of it.

“It is kinda cute, and I like the lasso on the wall” you pointed out 

“Oh man, creepy” you said as you noticed the sad clown painting hanging above the bed. 

“That's coming down” Sam said and quickly moved over to the painting to take it off the wall and lay it face down in the corner of the room. 

“Sammy here is a afraid of clowns” Dean informed you

“I don’t blame him, they’re scary, and all the media about killer clowns doesn’t exactly make me want to see one” you replied 

Bobby arrived at the motel shortly after the three of you had gotten the rooms. The four of you were discussing plans for the next day as it was later and you all agreed to start interviewing people in the morning. 

“i’m gonna go grab a drink, I saw a bar about ten minutes from here” Dean announced 

“I’ll join you if Bobby and Sam don’t need help with research” you said 

“Go take a break kid, you work your ass off, me and Sam will be fine” Bobby told you, you thanked him and gave him a quick hug before heading out with Dean. 

You weren’t surprised by the crowd at the bar, mostly older men who looked like they had just gotten off work, farm clothes and dirty work shirts adorned most of them. A few of them had women who you assumed were their wives at their side, chatting quietly with them. You were glad your outfit wasn’t out of place for the scene. 

A man who you guessed to be around fifty was working behind the bar, he gave Dean and you a soft smile before asking what you’d like to drink. 

“I’ll take a beer” Dean told him

“Busch okay? We don’t have anything else” The bartender replied 

“Perfect” 

“And for the pretty lady” the bartender asked 

“I’ll just take a vodka cranberry” you said, not minding his comment too much, you knew he didn’t mean anything by it, people just talked like that. 

You and Dean sat at the bar after getting your drinks, chatting with each other. 

One drink led to another and you lost count of how many you had drank. You were asking Dean silly questions and you began to vocalize your thoughts about how handsome he is.

“I know you can't kill a vampire with a wooden stake, but have you ever tried death by stereo?” you asked with a giggle, you had taken your hand into his and were toying with his fingers. 

“The Lost Boys is a great movie, me and Sammy will try out death by stereo just for you the next time we hunt vampires” he replied earning a laugh from you.

“You are so manly and cute and handsome” you slurred poking a finger into his chest, eyes widening at the firmness of his muscles “Oh my gosh you’re strong too, I feel like I just poked a rock” 

He laughed and shook his head at your comments “Let's get you to bed before you say more shit you’ll regret tomorrow.” 

“I don't regret anything, I’ve been thinking about how cute you are all day, and those big arms wrapped around-” You blabbered but were cut off by Dean.

“Yep time for bed, but give me a heads up sweetheart if you still feel this way after you’ve sobered up” 

“I’m going to pay, then we’re going to get in the car, then get you to bed” he added

“Very forward, I like it” you giggled with a raise of your brows. 

After Dean paid he walked you out to the Impala, you stumbling slightly finding it hard to walk after being sat down all night. 

“I'm cold” you lied, you were not cold but you wanted his jacket.

“You have a sweater on?” he replied with confusion lacing his tone.

“You're supposed to give me your jacket then I can smell like you” you told him and tried to give him a hug while still walking. 

He forced a sigh then wrapped his jacket around you. You snuggled into it and thanked him.

After a car ride consisting of you informing Dean your feet hurt and you were tired, the two of you arrived back at the motel.

Dean opened the door to yours and Bobby's shared room. You giggled noticing the lights were off. 

Dean attempted to shush you “he's probably asleep already, quiet down” 

You only laughed harder at the fact you needed to be quiet “he looks like Ebenezer Scrooge when he sleeps, he just needs the little hat” you commented through your giggles, Dean tried to hide his smile to not encourage you. 

“I always think the ghost of Christmas past is gonna get him” you said before bursting into laughter and Dean quickly slapping his hand over your mouth. He pushed you into the bathroom and shut the door attempting to muffle your giggles. He flipped the light on and asked you where your duffle bag was. 

“In the room somewhere” you shrugged 

“Well no shit sweetheart” 

“It's on my bed I think” you giggled 

“Okay perfect you stay right here and I’ll go get it then you're going to change and go to bed” he told you

Dean groped through the dark until he found your bag, it was sitting on your bed as you had told him. He made his way back to the bathroom to find you sitting on the toilet lid, playing with the toilet paper roll that had the first square folded into a fancy shape. 

“Isn't this just precious” you said and showed him the toilet paper

“Yes, very cute put it down” he said and took the roll out of your hands, placing it on the counter. 

He opened your bag and fished out your shorts and a tee shirt “get changed” 

“No can do, can’t get my pants off” you shrugged with a fake sigh 

Usually Dean would be enthralled to take a girl's pants off but he wasn’t in the mood for an ass whooping from Bobby. 

He just prayed Bobby wouldn’t wake up because you weren’t budging. He helped you shimmy your jeans off your legs, then slipped your shorts onto you. 

“Need help with my shirt too” you said as you shrugged his jacket off your shoulders and put it into your lap. 

He slipped your crewneck over your head, your shirt coming off with it. He quickly took in your figure, admiring the sight of you in your bra before he slipped a clean shirt over your head. 

You unclasped your bra and slipped it off from under your shirt before tossing it on the bathroom floor. 

“Really? you can do that but you can’t change on your own” Dean whisper yelled 

“I can’t show you too much” you shrugged “now can you carry me to bed?”

He was willing to do anything to get you in bed at this point so he scooped you up in his arms and carried you out to your bed, you giggled as he threw you down onto the sheets. 

“Go to bed now” he whispered and you quickly made yourself comfortable under the blankets, cuddling into his jacket that you still held in your arms. 

You heard the door close and you soon drifted off to sleep. 

You awoke around four in the morning the red numbers off the alarm clock informing you of the time. You were starving and the alcohol had barely worn off. you crawled out of bed and slipped on Dean's jacket, it hung loosely on your figure, the length going past your shorts and the sleeves being far too long. You were glad for the added warmth because you were freezing. 

You were absolutely craving fried chicken and you dug through the mini fridge wholeheartedly expecting to find some, when the disappointment hit you, you left the room and went into Sam and Dean's room, letting yourself in with the spare key you had been given. 

You began to dig through their refrigerator in the dark, expecting to find some chicken but when you heard a gun click and the light flipped on, you spun around, met by Dean in his underwear and Sam shuffling in moments later with his blanket wrapped around him.

“What the hell are you doing” Dean asked 

“I want fried chicken so bad” you complained 

“Why would we have fried chicken?” Dean asked, still groggy and confused. 

“I don’t know I just wanted to check” you told him 

Sam laughed at the interaction, telling Dean he shouldn’t have let you drink so much before he headed back to his bed. 

“I promise I will get you fried chicken in the morning but please go back to bed” Dean told you 

“You look cute in your undies” you giggled 

“And you look cute in my jacket now go to bed” he mimicked your giggle. 

You agreed but not before you made him promise to get you your food in the morning, you made him lock pinkies with you despite his complaints of annoyance. 

You made your way back to your room and quickly fell asleep again. 

The next morning was hell, Bobby woke you up around 8 and you were met with a headache and a need for water. The second you stood up you found yourself running to the bathroom as a nauseating feeling built in your throat. 

You heard Sam and Dean talking as you were throwing up the memories of last night. Both of them asking how you were doing, and Bobby explaining you were currently throwing up, expecting an explanation from Dean as to why. 

Dean ducked out of the conversation “I’m going to get her water and hold her hair back, like a man does” he walked into the bathroom and gave a small chuckle at your figure hunched over the toilet. 

“Do not fucking laugh at me” you groaned 

“You still want that fried chicken” he asked, and you gagged at the thought, he grabbed you a cup of water to rinse your mouth out with and handed you the toilet paper you had been previously admiring to wipe your mouth off with. 

You wiped the sweat from your forehead and the tears from your eyes before standing up to brush your teeth. 

“You still gotta work today you know” Dean told you 

you rolled your eyes at him and after you had finished brushing your teeth you said “I’ll survive, I can tolerate sitting and reading, you have to go fight the things” 

You and Dean joined Bobby and Sam, Sam having told Bobby about you breaking into their room. You were expecting to get your ass chewed out but all you got from Bobby was “Kid I’m glad you had fun, you need to loosen up sometimes, but we still need your help today, so I expect your best” 

You agreed and gave him a quick hug before setting up a spot to research on the desk in the room. 

Sam and Dean left to put on formal clothes as they were posing as detectives and had to look the part. They returned to the room after changing. 

“Don’t you boys look handsome” you said with a grin 

“We have to be believable” Dean grumbled 

“I’m being serious, you look nice” you smiled “I’m going to look for potential demonic activity in other areas, call me if you need anything” 

“Will do sweetheart” Dean replied 

“Thanks for all your help y/n, we’ll pick you up some fried chicken on our way back” Sam grinned 

Your stomach churned at the thought of eating anything but maybe you’d change your mind later in the day, so you didn’t shut him down. 

As the three were turning to leave you said “by the way Dean, I do still feel like that” earning a grin from him and his head flooding with thoughts of what he could do to you when he got back. 

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[tsyvia48]

Author & Mensch: Reflections on the impact of @neil-gaiman on my life, in essay and doodle

As a woman of a certain age, I am a well-practiced overthinker. Nerd, geek, know-it-all, intellectual, the names have been biting or praise depending on who wielded them. They’re all true, and I embrace them. 

In the early days of adulthood, when I was a wee 20-something overthinking nerd, geek, know-it-all, intellectual (20+ years ago), I became deeply interested in image and text and text-as-image. While friends were watching and arguing over Survivor, I was obsessing over Peter Greenaway’s The Pillowbook and Prospero's Books and Neil Gaiman’s Sandman. (To this day my copies of the Sandman graphic novels and the English translation of The Pillowbook of Sei Shonagon are proudly displayed on the good bookshelves—you know, the ones I want people to peruse.)

Sandman isn't merely good storytelling and good art, it teases at some of the fundamental questions to which my religion-major heart was consistently and reliably drawn. It modeled a way of rendering the questions—and suggested answers—I would never have imagined on my own.

In those days, I created an artist's book: an altered gift edition of Hamlet. I explored Ophelia’s femininity and the inevitability of her break with her mental health, caught as she is between Hamlet and her father. I imagined her story if she’d had true agency. I investigated the way art (fan art?!) had shaped my understanding of the play and my relationship to it. I layered in my story—my resonance and dissonance with hers—and my art, along with images of famous and not-so-famous paintings of Ophelia. I proudly named Greenaway and Gaiman as influences. 

I imagined myself an artist. And, truthfully, I suppose I was one. 

I read Good Omens back then, too, delighting over the religious tropes and subversions, the humor, and the fundamental faith in humanity that shone through. 

In the two decades since then, below the din of “responsible” choices (that have mostly moved me away from imagining myself an artist) there has been a melody quietly bringing me comfort, shifting my perspective, and reminding me who I want to be. When I stop to listen for and name the music, I realize much of it generates from Neil Gaiman. 

The Graveyard Book gave me comfort and hope as a new parent. 

Ocean at the End of the Lane reminded me of the layers and the depths⏤the archetypes and metaphors⏤present in everything around me, if I am willing to seek them.

Neil’s anecdote about meeting Neil Armstrong has been a talisman against imposter syndrome. Or, more precisely, it has been a permission slip for forgiving myself when the imposter syndrome inevitably surfaces.

The episode of Dr Who he wrote (“the Doctor’s Wife”) changed the way I understand the entire Dr Who experience before and since. 

Lucifer (tv), which his work inspired, gave me joy, comfort and distraction through a tough time in my life. 

When, a few years ago, I realized he is Jewish, I had that swelling of pride and resonance that I always get when someone I admire shares that identity with me.

And now there’s the Good Omens tv series. It has opened something in me I didn’t realize was closed. Crowley and Aziraphale are helping me better understand myself, and love, and gender, and storytelling, and, believe it or not, Torah. I am writing again for the first time in ages. I'm drawing more often and with more joy than I’ve known maybe since childhood.

I’ve been getting back into my gratidoodle practice, drawing and writing what I’m grateful for. And when I decided to add Neil Gaiman’s face and some words about my appreciation for his work to my sketchbook, I realized he’s brought me full circle.

Text and image and text-as-image + Neil Gaiman + story is an old constellation for me. And once again, I find my thoughts dancing, shifting, blossoming to the quiet melody of (one of?) the greatest storyteller(s) of this generation. 

And now that I am actively engaging with other Gaiman fans, I see how responsive and kind and encouraging he is to those of us who love his work, and his name is permanently etched on my heart: a benefactor, a teacher, a role model.

How satisfying and fitting that such a powerful and resonant voice, miraculously, thankfully, beautifully, also seems to be a genuine mensch. 

B”H (thanks to God) that I am alive at the same time as such a one.

#I didn't realize I was going to write AND draw when I started this #but I felt I needed both #I wish I had a flatbed scanner #this photo doesn't do it justice #there's greater nuance in the color in person #Stories matter #Art matters #like, really matters #Neil Gaiman is a gift to this world #Good Omens #Crowley and Aziraphale #Ocean at the End of the Lane #The Graveyard Book #Neil Armstrong and imposter syndrome #The Doctor's Wife #So grateful for tumblr

[idkwhatever580]

Gina?

Masterlist

Pairings: Regina George x reader

Prompt: reader helps Regina when her life falls apart

Warnings: self hate, swearing,

A/N: I had a request to do this and I did it the other way around so here is a different version. I stuggled with the body part since I kind of was going on and on and it led to something else but I hope you like it!

Y/n’s pov

I just got to my girlfriend’s house. Her mom called me and said she’s been on the treadmill for two hours.

Ms. George called around four and she said that she left school early and wouldn’t get off, so I immediately told her that I was coming over.

I had just gotten out of school too.

So I run into the house and say a quick

“Hey Ms. George!”

And I ran to their workout room.

The door is locked so I knock really hard so she can hear me. She thinks I’m her mom so she yells

“Mom I told you I need to lose three pounds!!!”

“Gina baby! It’s me! Y/n! Can you please let me in?

“No! You need to go! I need to lose more weight!”

I sigh when I realize she’s not getting off that machine until I drag her off. So I quickly find two Bobby pins and pick the lock. Thank god for coach carr.

He might not have taught me a lot of things. Except for that if you have sex you’ll get chlamydia and die. (False) but he once had to pick the lock to get back into the classroom when he accidentally got us all locked out.

So I open the door and find her eating a gross looking bar of sorts.

I turn off the treadmill and say

“Gina. Please. This isn’t healthy.”

She is panting and sweating and she finally kind of snaps out of it.

She is like really fucking tired now so I help her to the bathroom to clean off.

“What kind of bar is that Gina?”

She shrugs while washing her hair and says

“It’s like a Kalteen bar. It’s Swedish or something”

I furrow my eyebrows and say

“Where did you get these from and what do they do?”

“They make you lose weight. And Cady gave them to me.”

She steps out of the shower and I say

“I don’t trust that girl”

She kind of scoffs and says

“You don’t trust anyone”

I look at her as she dries off and I say

“You’re right. I don’t trust very many people. Do you even know what is in this?”

She shrugs and says

“No.”

I squint and grab the package of the bars and I look up the brand. My eyes widen when I read the description.

All of the ingredients are said to be aids in gaining weight. So I turn to Regina and say

“Spit that out. Right. Now.”

She listens and spits it out, but says

“Why?”

I grab her hand and say

“You know how I said you shouldn’t trust Cady Heron?”

She rolls her eyes and says

“Yes come on tell me”

I sigh and pick up the bar and say

“This shit makes you gain weight. She literally tricked you.”

She takes the information in and then starts screaming.

Loud.

I cover my ears and as she is screaming she goes into her closet and grabs this pink book.

She finally stopped screaming. I’ve never seen this book before so I say

“What’s that?”

“A burn book”

She starts writing something in it and puts her picture in it.

“What is it about?”

She huffs and says

“It has all the girls in our class in it. Talks shit about them.”

I look at her with wide eyes and say

“Am i in it?”

She groans and says

“No. You go to north west. . I go to north shore. It only has north shore juniors in it. Also I’d never let them write anything bad about you anyways.”

I frown and nod my head and say

“What are you doing with it?”

She rolls her eyes and says

“I’m taking it to the school. Showing everyone. Blaming the three bitches who wouldn’t let me sit at my fucking table!”

I widen my eyes and say

“Wait. You couldn’t sit at their table?”

She nods her head and says

“Because I was wearing fucking sweatpants and it wasn’t the day.”

I scoff and say

“Wow. That’s stupid”

She nods and starts crying and says

“Sweatpants are all that fits me right now because of those stupid bars. I thought Cady was nice.”

I sign and nod my head. I run to hug her and say

“Let’s think this through baby. Whatever is in this book is going to ruin some people’s lives right now okay? I know she ruined yours. I know. But there’s no need to be the same way. Remember what we talked about?”

She looks at me and says

“What?”

I smile and say

“When someone hurts us. We get back up. Stand taller than them. And come back better than ever.”

She huffs and says

“Why though? Why can’t I ruin her life?”

I sigh and say

“Regina. Two wrongs don’t make a right. Don’t be the girl that hurt you first okay? Cady is a horrible person. She will have to deal with the consequences of that. But you are a good person.”

She sniffles and says

“I’m actually not”

I frown and say

“Huh?”

“I’m not a good person.”

I laugh softly and say

“What are you talking about baby?”

She sits up and takes a deep breath. It almost looks like she is preparing herself for me to leave her or something.

“Y/n. You know I am pretty popular right?”

I nod my head and say

“What does popularity have to do with anything?”

She looks down and says

“I’m not just popular. I’m like the head bitch in charge. I rule that fucking school. Every girl wants to be me. And I am mean. I’m a bully. I’ve never been nice to anyone. Not even Gretchen or Karen.”

I look at her confused and say

“What are you talking about? That doesn’t sound like you at all”

She sighs and shakes her head.

“I know. Because I am different around you. You make me a better person. But in reality. I am no better than Cady. There’s this one girl. I used to be friends with her. Her name is Janis. I ruined her life in sixth grade. I told everyone she was a lesbian because she was sad when I didn’t hang out with her because I had a boyfriend.”

I nod my head trying to take all this information in.

“And I bullied her so bad that she lit our shared stuffed animal on fire. Because I was using it to call her a lesbian without her knowing. So she lit it on fire. And then I caught my backpack on fire. I knew that. I knew she didn’t try to light my backpack on fire. And what did i do? I called her a pyro-lez. Everyone bullied her too. Trying to be like me.”

I look down and say

“Wow. That. That’s a lot”

She nods her head and says

“I’m sorry. I didn’t want you to find out. I thought we’d make it to college and I could be a completely different person. I thought I could run and be the person I want to be. But when you told me that you were switching schools for senior year I freaked out. Started focusing on everything that was happening this year like my body and my school life so that I could get it all this year. Because I knew the second you found out you’d dump me and then I’d become a loser.”

I nod my head as I listen to her.

“Regina?”

She stops and says

“I’m ready. I’m ready for you to break up with me”

I shake my head and say

“I’m not breaking up with you.”

She furrows her eyebrows as I continue.

“I’m sticking with you. Okay? Clearly you have a lot of things you need to work through. And that’s okay. We all do. But I am not leaving you. I love you okay? I love everything about you. And I’m not going to leave you because I know you can be better”

She nods her head and looks away and says

“Y/n? Why do you love me? I’m not pretty anymore”

I scoff and say

“What? You mean because Cady gave you those fuck ass bars? Because you gained a little weight?”

She nods her head and says

“I’m not pretty like I used to be. My body is ruined.”

I sigh and say.

“Take off your shirt”

Her eyes widen and she says

“What?”

I shake my head and say

“I’m not doing anything. Just take off your shirt okay?”

She does so and I get on my knees in between her legs. I kiss her stomach and I say

“I love your stomach. I love your stomach whether it is skinny and tiny or thicker okay?”

I move down and kiss her thighs

“I love your thighs. Whether or not they have a gap okay?”

She nods her head and I start kissing all over her and I say

“I love every inch of you. Every single inch. You having gained a little weight means nothing to me because you’re so so beautiful.”

Then I stand up and kiss her forehead.

“I love your mind. Because deep down I know you are good. If you really weren’t good I would have left you a long time ago. But you are good. You can be good to everyone.”

She tears up and says

“I want to be good”

I smile and say

“You do?”

She nods and says

“But I don’t know how”

I smile and say

“I’ll help you with that. But you have to look at me first and say you’re pretty”

She hesitates and shakes her head. I raise an eyebrow so she rolls her eyes and sighs. Then she mumbles

“I’m pretty”

I smirk and say

“Now mean it”

Once she realizes she’s not getting out of it, she sighs and for real says

“I love my body. I am pretty”

I smile and say

“Good job baby. Now. Let’s talk about what you’re gonna do now okay?”

She nods her head and I say

“So obviously this Janis girl has been hurt by you.”

She nods her head and I continue

“What are you going to do about that?”

She hesitantly says

“I’m gonna apologize?”

I nod my head and say

“Good job baby. You’re gonna apologize and explain to her why you did it all those years.”

She shakes her head and looks at me with pleading eyes and says

“What if she doesn’t care and still hates me?”

I sigh and say

“That’s a very likely possibility Regina. She might hate you. And that’s okay. Sometimes you have to understand that if you apologized, although it doesn’t make what you did right, it means you were willing to reconcile with them. And if they don’t care then that becomes their problem because you did what you could.”

She nods her head and says

“What else am I gonna do?”

I think and say

“You’re gonna burn that”

I point to the burn book she has and she says

“Why?”

I sigh and say

“Gina. You heard me. That book has the ability to ruin someone’s life. Honestly if I was in it and whatever had been written about me had gotten out I’d probably have hurt myself. We don’t want anyone to do that because of us right?”

She nods her head a lot and says

“I don’t want them to hurt”

I nod and say

“So you’re gonna?”

She finishes

“I’m gonna burn it tonight”

I nod and say

“Good job baby”

Then she says

“Let’s do it now.”

I smile and say

“Okay. Let’s do it now.”

We go to the backyard and I grab some lighter fluid from the barbecue pit and Regina throws the burn book in the fire pit.

I hand her the lighter fluid and she squirts some onto it and then I take it and trade her for the lighter.

She turns to me not knowing how to light it and I give her a bit of fire starter and say

“Wanna record it?”

She nods so I grab my phone and she burns the book.

We sit and watch it turn into ashes and I give her a hug. She turns to me and says

“It kind of feels like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders”

I smile and say

“Good. It should feel that way.”

We put the rest of the fire out and go back inside.

“Okay y/n, what else do I have to do?”

I smile and say

“Well I’m taking you shopping. You can’t go back better than ever wearing the sweatpants that fit you right now. So we’re going to buy some cute clothes in your current size and you’re gonna own it”

She smiles and says

“Okay.”

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

We come back from the shopping spree with two bags in each hand

“That was amazing baby thank you for taking me and spoiling me”

I smile and say

“Anything for my love”

She smiles and then sets out an outfit for the next day.

I smile proudly and she turns around with a doubtful look.

“What if none of it works? What if everyone thinks I’m kidding when I start being nice? What if I don’t get any friends?”

I sigh and say

“It won’t matter. You’ll have me. I’ll always be here for you and next year I’ll be by your side. We are probably getting the same classes since we’re on the same course plan so we’ll have a lot of time together.”

She smiles and says

“Thanks baby you always know how to reassure me.”

I smile and nod.

“Of course baby. You deserve to know you’re not alone”

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

My school gets off on Fridays so I stayed home while Regina went to school.

She has been texting me all day asking for reassurance that she can do this. And I have nothing to do so I give it.

She is supposed to be talking to Janis this class period since they both have one class.

I told her to do it privately so nobody feels any pressure.

She calls me and I pick up.

“Regina? Baby are you okay?”

“Yeah! I’m good!”

She sounds happy that’s a good sign.

“How’d it go?”

She giggles at someone who is talking to her and she says

“Janis and I talked it out and she’s so fun. I have been talking and laughing with her all period! Thank you for encouraging me to do this.”

I sigh and say

“Did you tell her about the burn book?”

She says

“Mhm. We talked about it and she said I was having problems with internalized homophobia”

I smile and say

“Yeah. That’s probably it. Than what happened?”

“We just started talking and it was like before! When we used to be best friends you know?”

I say

“Mhm”

And she continues

“Hey! So I have to go okay? I don’t want to get in trouble for having my phone out but I just wanted to say that Janis and I are gonna hang out tonight. Is that okay?”

“Yeah that’s fine. Wait before you go did you mean like you’re gonna hang out with her and then hang out with me?”

She giggles at that person again

Probably Janis

“Oh um. I think we’re gonna catch up like a bunch so probably not. We can hang out tomorrow night though right?”

I sigh and say

“Yeah that’s fine baby. Call me tonight?”

She laughs and says

“I will. I love you baby bye bye”

“I love you too bye”

We hang up and I throw my phone on the bed.

Of course I’m a little hurt. We were supposed to go on a date tonight. Like we do every Friday night. But it’s fine. She is just excited about Janis. And that’s okay.

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

My sister comes into my room in the afternoon and says

“You’re not going to Regina’s?”

I shake my head

“But it’s your date night?”

I smile and say

“She’s catching up with an old friend.”

She makes an oh face and leaves me be.

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

I’ve been watching movies all evening and it’s almost midnight. I do have to sleep eventually but Regina hasn’t called me yet.

I sigh and accept that she’s not gonna call me tonight so I turn off my tv and go to sleep.

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

I wake up and check my phone to hopefully see some texts from Regina but nothing shows up.

Just a few emails and snap streaks.

I check all of Regina’s socials and I see her story.

She went to the movies with Janis to watch Inside Out 2.

We were supposed to watch that together.

I tear up because we had planned that since we first saw the trailers for it.

And she watched it without even a thought of me.

I get lost in my thoughts.

Maybe this was her thing the whole time. She bullied Janis because she liked her. And I was just someone to take her mind off of her. But she got her. And I am gonna be left. And after all I did for her? Are you kidding me?! I helped her. I love her. I have so much up for her. And she’s just gonna drop me for this girl?!

I didn’t realize until my phone started ringing that I am crying.

It’s Regina. I check the time and see it’s noon.

I wipe my tears and make myself a little more presentable even though she can’t see me and I pick up.

“Wow baby. You usually pick up after the first ring”

I laugh and cover up the fact that I was just crying and say

“I was in the bathroom sorry”

She hums and says

“How was your night?”

I sigh and say

“It was fine”

“I’m sorry I didn’t call you. It’s just Janis and I had so much fun and she decided to stay over at my house last night and I felt like I would be a bad friend if I called my girlfriend while she was there.”

“It’s okay Gina. I get it. I just wish you texted me”

“I know I just got caught up and had so much fun and forgot. I’m sorry”

“It’s okay.”

After a pause I decided to bring up the movie and say

“So… you and Janis went to the movies last night?”

She hums and says

“Yeah it was so much fun. You would have loved it.”

I feel another tear coming and I suck it up.

“Yeah. What did you guys watch?”

“We watched.. inside out 2”

She trails off when she realizes what we were supposed to do next week. But before she says anything I say

“So you’re cancelling next week? I mean. It would be kind of wasteful to just watch it again right? Waste of time.”

She sighs and says

“I’m so sorry y/n. I completely forgot. Janis had asked me and I just said yes without thinking. We can still go if you want to?”

I say

“No it’s okay. I’ll watch it when it comes out on Netflix or something. I don’t like the movies anyways.”

Lie. I love the movies.

“Huh. I thought you loved the movies?”

I huff and say

“It’s fine.”

She says

“Janis left a few minutes ago and I called as soon as I could.”

I hum and say

“Oh that’s nice. I’m glad you’re catching up with her”

She then says

“Yeah. Want to hang out today?”

“Uhh I don’t know, I’m kinda busy today. I have a lot of chores to do.”

“Oh. Well I could help you with them! Then we could spend time together and they’ll be finished faster so we can hang out!”

I reluctantly give in. I kind of don’t want to hang out with her since I’m hurt but maybe it’ll be easier to explain to her in person.

“Sure. Come over”

“Okay!”

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

Regina gets to my house and immediately hugs me. I melt into her embrace and say

“Thanks for coming.”

“Of course! Anything to hang out with my person!”

I smile awkwardly and just walk back to my chores.

I start folding clothes and Regina tries to talk to me.

“So. What did you do this morning?”

“Slept in”

“Oh. Um did you sleep alright?”

“I slept fine”

“Okay. Did you have a good day yesterday?”

I sigh and say

“Not really”

This is the perfect set up to tell her how I feel. I need to communicate with her better.

“Oh. Why wasn’t it good?”

I fold the last shirt I have and pick up my pile and take it to my room and Regina follows me.

“I don’t know”

I get scared and shut down a bit but Regina knows this play

“Don’t do that. Tell me why it wasn’t good baby”

I put my clothes in my drawer and pick up some shoes and put them in my closet. I end up picking some stuff up and I’m on my knees by my shoes.

I try to say something but nothing comes out. So Regina peeks her head in and says

“Hello?”

I turn from my spot on the ground and tear up slightly.

“Oh baby! Don’t cry! What happened?”

She comes and sits down next to me in my now cramped closet.

“I don’t know. I’m having a hard time saying it”

“I understand that. Take your time baby. I’m here”

I sigh and smile slightly when I realize she has picked up my words from when we were in this situation but reversed.

“I guess- I- ugh this is so hard”

I run my hands through my hair and Regina just listens. She gives me a reassuring look and I feel better about telling her.

“I am hurt I guess. By you. See I love that you are rekindling a friendship that you lost a long time ago but it’s not like you to dip on me okay!”

She furrows her eyebrows and says

“Dip? We didn’t have any plans last night did we?”

I sigh and say

“It was Friday last night. We always make plans. Remember? It was your week to plan it. But that’s not even the only thing. You dipped on me, which I said it was fine because I knew you were excited about being friends with her again, then you didn’t call me like you said you would. And to top it all off I woke up this morning to see you watched a movie with her that we had plans to watch together! I’m just really hurt that you didn’t remember all of that.”

She looks down feeling bad that she did all of that.

“I’m so sorry y/n”

I look at her and say

“It’s fine. I’m just being over dramatic.”

I wipe my tears and go to get up but she grabs me and says

“No. It’s not fine. You should be my priority. But you were not last night. I got so caught up in me and Janis that I completely forgot about you. And that’s not okay. I should have remembered that you and I were going to watch the movie. I should have remembered to call you. But I didn’t.”

I sigh and say

“I’m sorry I just am jealous I guess. I feel like you never act like this and I got scared that you’d leave me for her because you didn’t want me to begin with. I thought maybe you had wanted Janis but didn’t know if you could have her but you knew you could have me”

She laughs and shakes her head

“No baby. I love you so much. I had a lapse of judgment last night. And I apologize. I don’t like Janis like that. Thank goodness. But I won’t leave you. Ever. And by the way. I really appreciate you telling me this. It can take a lot and you’re helping our relationship be better by communicating with me.”

I smile and say

“Thank you baby I’m sorry I got so worked up. I just let my thoughts get to me.”

She nods and says

“I can relate to that”

I smile and say

“So. What do we do now?”

I look around and she does too. We’re still on the floor of my cramped closet and she says

“I guess we cuddle and watch a movie together?”

I smile and say

“I like that idea.”

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

A/N: this totally went the opposite of what I planned but it’s fine 😚 it’s cute either way. I hope y’all liked it!!

Taglist

@ilovesnat @ihartnat @marvelnatasha12346 @moistblobfish @justarandomreaderxoxo

[chaotic-laila]

Beneath the Bet: A Love Unspoken

(picture taken from pinterest)

Pairing - Sirius Black x Female Reader

Glimpse - “But if you hurt me,” she added, her tone light but laced with a warning, “I’ll kill you.”

Sirius laughed, the sound full of genuine warmth. “Fair enough, love. Fair enough.”

Summary - Sirius Black, the notorious heartthrob of Hogwarts, takes on a bet to win over Y/N, a sassy, nerdy Gryffindor who’s never fallen for his charms. What starts as a game quickly turns real when Sirius finds himself falling for her. But just as Y/N begins to trust him, a whispered secret about the bet shatters everything. Now, with her heart broken and Sirius desperate to make things right, the truth comes out... but is it already too late?

**

The Great Hall was buzzing with its usual energy, filled with students chatting, laughing, and eating, while the enchanted ceiling mimicked the perfect autumn sky above. Y/N sat among her friends at the Gryffindor table, a book resting in front of her as she half-listened to their conversation. Though her mind was occupied by her studies, she was always ready to chime in with a sarcastic remark or a witty quip. She was a social person, known for her loud, confident voice, and her tendency to speak her mind.

She was also a nerd—unashamedly so. Her love for books and academics hadn’t gone unnoticed over the years, but she never let it stop her from being outgoing or from enjoying life at Hogwarts. Most people knew her, not because she was trying to stand out, but because she was unapologetically herself.

From across the Hall, Sirius Black leaned casually against the back of his seat, his gray eyes focused on Y/N, who was engaged in some animated debate with her friends. It wasn’t the first time Sirius had noticed her—hell, she had been around since their first year—but there was something about her lately that kept catching his eye. Maybe it was her quick wit. Maybe it was her confidence. Or maybe, Sirius thought with a grin, it was the fact that she didn’t seem to care about his usual charm.

“Oi, Pads,” James interrupted, elbowing Sirius in the ribs. “You’re staring again.”

Sirius blinked and tore his gaze away from Y/N, trying to look nonchalant. “What? No, I wasn’t.”

James snickered, adjusting his glasses. “Sure you weren’t. I’ve seen you look at plenty of girls before, but you’ve got a thing for Y/N, don’t you?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Sirius shot back, though his grin was still in place. “She’s just... interesting.”

Remus, who had been quietly reading beside them, looked up. “Interesting how? Because she doesn’t fall for your usual tricks?”

Sirius scowled good-naturedly. “I don’t have ‘tricks,’ thank you very much.”

“Mate, you’ve been trying the same moves since second year,” James teased. “You flash a grin, call them ‘love,’ and they’re all over you.”

Sirius shrugged, unbothered. “It works, doesn’t it?”

But Y/N, as Sirius had learned, wasn’t so easily charmed. Over the past few weeks, he’d thrown a few flirtatious comments her way, testing the waters, only to be met with either polite indifference or a sharp, sarcastic response. And somehow, instead of being discouraged, it only made him want to try harder.

James, ever the instigator, suddenly leaned in with a mischievous glint in his eyes. “You know what, Pads? I bet you can’t get Y/N to go out with you.”

Sirius raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “A bet, huh?”

James nodded, his smirk widening. “By the end of the month. If you can convince her to go out with you, you can take my Firebolt for a spin.”

Sirius’s expression shifted to one of excitement. “Your Firebolt?”

James shrugged. “If you fail, though, you’ve got to write Snape a love letter and leave it on his desk.”

Remus winced, looking up from his book. “Merlin, that’s cruel.”

Sirius didn’t hesitate. “Deal.”

From that day forward, Sirius Black had made it his mission to get Y/N’s attention. At every opportunity, he was there—flashing her one of his trademark smiles, throwing in flirtatious comments, even going so far as to publicly kneel in the middle of the Great Hall and loudly proclaim his love for her. Each time, Y/N would roll her eyes, or simply laugh it off, much to the amusement of her friends and the rest of Gryffindor House.

“Alright, Black, what is it this time?” Y/N asked one day after Sirius had cornered her in the hallway between classes, grinning like a cat who had just caught a mouse.

“Nothing much,” he said casually, though his tone was anything but innocent. “Just thought I’d remind you how breathtaking you are.”

Y/N’s lips twitched, clearly amused. “And I thought I’d remind you that I’m not interested.”

Sirius placed a hand over his heart, feigning deep injury. “You wound me, love.”

“Oh, you’ll survive,” Y/N quipped, brushing past him.

For the next few weeks, Sirius’s advances continued, much to the amusement of their classmates. Though Y/N remained unimpressed—or at least, she acted like it—there was a part of her that couldn’t help but feel a little flattered by his attention. It wasn’t that she was immune to Sirius’s charms, but she knew his reputation all too well. He was a notorious flirt, never serious about anyone, always moving on to the next girl before anyone could get too close. And Y/N had no interest in becoming just another name on his list.

That, and there was something else. Something deeper that tugged at her when she saw him smiling at her or calling her “love” in that playful tone. It was confusing, and Y/N wasn’t sure what to make of it.

Her friends, of course, were loving every minute of it.

“You should just say yes,” one of her friends suggested one evening as they lounged in the common room. “It’s obvious he likes you.”

“He doesn’t like me,” Y/N said, shaking her head. “He’s just bored. He’s probably got a bet going with James or something.”

Her friend raised an eyebrow. “And what if he does? Doesn’t mean he can’t actually like you.”

Y/N sighed, leaning back against the couch. “I don’t know. He’s... Sirius. He’s a player. What if I say yes and he gets bored of me in a week?”

Her friend gave her a sympathetic smile. “I guess you won’t know unless you take the chance.”

Sirius, on the other hand, had started to realise something as the days passed. It had started as a bet, sure, but the more he pursued Y/N, the more he found himself genuinely interested in her. She wasn’t like the other girls he’d dated—not because she was different or special in some cliché way, but because she didn’t care about his reputation. She didn’t care that he was Sirius Black, the Marauder, the playboy. She saw through the façade, and that was something no one else had ever bothered to do.

One evening, after a particularly eventful day of Quidditch practice, Sirius found himself sitting in the common room, staring into the fire as he thought about Y/N. It was getting harder to ignore the nagging feeling in his chest every time she laughed or brushed him off with one of her sarcastic comments. He had never had to work this hard before, and the fact that he wasn’t giving up only confirmed what he had been trying to deny.

He liked her. For real.

And that realization terrified him.

It was just before the end of the month when Sirius finally made his move. He had waited for the perfect moment—when Y/N was alone, walking back to the common room after a late study session in the library.

“Y/N,” he called, jogging to catch up with her.

She glanced over her shoulder, clearly surprised. “Sirius? What are you doing here?”

“I wanted to talk to you,” he said, his usual playful tone replaced by something more serious.

Y/N stopped, turning to face him fully. “Alright, talk.”

Sirius took a deep breath, running a hand through his hair. “Look, I know I’ve been messing around a lot. And I know you think I’m just doing this for fun, but I’m not. I really like you, Y/N. And I want to prove it.”

Y/N’s eyes widened slightly, taken aback by his sincerity. She had expected another playful remark, another attempt at flirting, but this... this was different.

“Sirius... I don’t know,” she began, crossing her arms over her chest. “You have a reputation.”

“I know,” he said quickly. “And I get why you’d be hesitant. But I’m serious about this. About you.”

Y/N hesitated, her mind racing. Part of her wanted to say yes—to take the chance and see if he was being truthful. But another part of her was still scared. Scared of being hurt, of being just another name on his list of conquests.

After what felt like an eternity, Y/N finally spoke. “Alright, Black. I’ll go out with you.”

Sirius’s face lit up, but Y/N held up a hand, stopping him.

“But if you hurt me,” she added, her tone light but laced with a warning, “I’ll kill you.”

Sirius laughed, the sound full of genuine warmth. “Fair enough, love. Fair enough.”

And with that, their relationship began.

For the first time in his life, Sirius found himself genuinely invested in a relationship. It was no longer just about winning the bet, or impressing James, or upholding the carefree persona he’d always carried. Being with Y/N was different. She wasn’t someone who swooned at his flirtatious comments, or who melted at his grins. She challenged him, teased him, made him think. And for some strange reason, that made him want to be better for her.

At first, their relationship was lighthearted. Y/N was cautious, but Sirius was persistent, showing her bits of his personality that no one else ever really saw. He showed her his vulnerable side, the side that wasn’t always laughing and carefree, and slowly, Y/N’s walls started to come down.

They spent late nights together in the common room, Y/N tutoring him in subjects he never bothered to care about before, or Sirius making her laugh with ridiculous impressions of their professors. They snuck out past curfew to go flying under the stars, Sirius teaching her how to perfect her broom skills. He took her to Hogsmeade, where they spent afternoons wandering the village, holding hands and talking about everything and nothing at the same time.

Y/N found herself falling for him, even though she had promised herself she wouldn’t. She had been wary at first, scared that he was just playing with her, that it was all part of some elaborate joke. But the more time she spent with him, the more she realized that Sirius wasn’t the player she had always thought he was. He cared about her. He made her feel special, in a way that no one else ever had.

And that scared her.

Weeks passed, and their relationship grew stronger. Sirius had long since forgotten about the bet—James hadn’t brought it up in a while, and Sirius didn’t care to remind him. What started as a challenge had turned into something real, something that made Sirius feel... different.

But it wasn’t long before cracks started to form.

Y/N was happy—happier than she had been in a long time—but there was always a lingering doubt in the back of her mind. She couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that this was too good to be true, that eventually, Sirius would get bored and move on. After all, he had done it with so many other girls before her. Why would she be any different?

And then came the whispers.

It started innocently enough—girls giggling in the corridors, casting glances at Y/N and Sirius whenever they passed. Y/N ignored it at first, brushing it off as jealousy or idle gossip. But then, one afternoon, she overheard something that made her blood run cold.

“So, have you heard about the bet?”

“What bet?”

“The one between Sirius and James. Apparently, Sirius is just trying to get Y/N to fall for him to win.”

Y/N froze, her heart pounding in her chest. She felt like the ground had just been pulled out from under her. A bet? Is that what this had all been about? Was everything Sirius had said, everything they had shared, just a game to him?

She felt sick. Her mind raced, replaying every conversation, every smile, every moment they had spent together. Had it all been a lie? Had he just been using her to win some stupid bet with his friends?

Y/N didn’t confront him. She didn’t say a word. Instead, she pulled away. Slowly, subtly, she started to distance herself from him. She stopped waiting for him after classes, stopped sitting next to him in the common room, stopped laughing at his jokes. Whenever he tried to talk to her, she found an excuse to leave. And Sirius, confused and hurt by her sudden coldness, didn’t know what he had done wrong.

He tried to ask her to figure out what had changed, but Y/N was guarded, her walls firmly back in place. She had let herself be vulnerable with him, and now she felt like a fool for doing so.

It had been a week since Y/N started ignoring him, and Sirius was at his wit's end. He didn’t understand what had happened. Everything had been going so well—he had been falling for her, truly falling—and now she wouldn’t even look at him.

One evening, after dinner, Sirius stormed into the Gryffindor common room, his frustration finally boiling over. He spotted Y/N sitting by the fire, her nose buried in a book, and without thinking, he marched over to her.

“Y/N,” he said, his voice laced with anger and confusion. “What the hell is going on?”

Y/N glanced up, her expression unreadable. “What do you mean?”

Sirius ran a hand through his hair, pacing in front of her. “You’ve been ignoring me for a week. You won’t talk to me, you won’t look at me, and I have no idea why.”

She closed her book, her eyes meeting his with a coldness that made his heart sink. “Why do you care, Sirius? You got what you wanted, didn’t you?”

Sirius frowned, his confusion deepening. “What are you talking about?”

Y/N stood up, crossing her arms over her chest. “The bet, Sirius. The one you made with James. You won. Congratulations.”

Sirius’s heart stopped. “What—no. Y/N, that’s not...”

“Don’t lie to me,” Y/N snapped, her voice shaking with anger and hurt. “I heard about it. This was all just a game to you, wasn’t it? You were just trying to win some stupid bet, and I was the idiot who fell for it.”

Sirius shook his head, his chest tight with panic. “Y/N, it wasn’t like that. It started as a bet, yeah, but—”

“But what?” Y/N interrupted, her voice rising. “You didn’t think I’d find out? You didn’t think it would hurt me?”

Sirius took a step forward, desperation in his eyes. “Y/N, please. I swear, it wasn’t about the bet anymore. I called it off. I didn’t care about it. I care about you.”

Y/N laughed bitterly, tears welling up in her eyes. “Yeah, right. You’re Sirius Black. You don’t care about anyone but yourself.”

Her words cut deep, and Sirius flinched, but he didn’t back down. “That’s not true. Y/N, I care about you more than anyone. I’ve never felt like this before. You’ve got to believe me.”

But Y/N was shaking her head, tears streaming down her face now. “I can’t. I can’t trust you, Sirius. How do I know you’re not just playing me again?”

Sirius’s heart broke at the sight of her tears, and he reached out, gently cupping her face in his hands. “Because I’m not,” he whispered, his voice raw with emotion. “I love you, Y/N. I didn’t mean for any of this to happen, but I do. I love you.”

Y/N froze, her breath catching in her throat. She wanted to believe him—God, she wanted to—but the pain of the betrayal was too fresh, too raw.

Sirius’s hands fell away, and he took a step back, his expression crumbling. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice thick with regret. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. I never meant to hurt you. I just... I just wanted to be with you.”

Y/N wiped away her tears, her heart aching. She didn’t know what to say, didn’t know if she could forgive him. So she said nothing, and with one last heartbroken look, Sirius turned and walked away, leaving her standing there, her heart shattered.

For the next few days, Y/N felt like she was walking around in a fog. She couldn’t focus on her classes, couldn’t concentrate on her studies. All she could think about was Sirius—his words, his apology, the look of pain in his eyes when he had told her he loved her.

Part of her wanted to run after him, to tell him she forgave him, that she loved him too. But another part of her—the part that had been hurt, the part that had been lied to—couldn’t bring herself to do it.

It wasn’t until a few days later, when she overheard a conversation between James and Remus, that everything finally clicked into place.

“I can’t believe you didn’t say anything,” Remus was saying. “Sirius has been miserable.”

James sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I know. I didn’t think she’d find out. And now he’s in pieces.”

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat as she crept closer, straining to hear.

“Do you think she’ll ever forgive him?” Remus asked quietly.

“I don’t know,” James replied. “But I do know one thing—Sirius didn’t care about the bet. He hasn’t cared about it for weeks. All he cares about is her.”

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat, and she felt a fresh wave of guilt wash over her. Maybe she had been wrong. Maybe Sirius had been telling the truth. Maybe, just maybe, he really did love her.

Without thinking, Y/N turned on her heel and ran. She didn’t know where Sirius was, but she had to find him. She had to tell him that she was sorry, that she believed him.

She found him sitting by the Black Lake, his head in his hands, staring out at the water. He looked so lost, so broken, that Y/N’s heart ached for him.

“Sirius,” she whispered, stepping closer.

He looked up, his eyes widening in surprise. “Y/N...”

“I’m sorry,” she said quickly, tears welling up in her eyes. “I’m so sorry. I should have believed you. I should have trusted you. I... I love you too.”

Sirius stared at her, his breath catching in his throat. “You... you do?”

Y/N nodded, wiping away her tears with the back of her hand. “I do. I was scared, and I didn’t know if I could trust you, but... I love you, Sirius.”

In an instant, Sirius was on his feet, closing the distance between them. He cupped her face in his hands, his forehead resting against hers, and for the first time in days, he smiled.

“I love you too,” he whispered, his voice filled with relief.

[ukrfeminism]

One morning in 2007, Frances Harper was taking a bath and listening to the local news on BBC Radio Suffolk when one story caught her attention. A young woman, Louise, was being interviewed about her life as a sex worker in Ipswich. “I couldn’t see how this interview was helping her situation at all,” says Harper, who was 60 at the time. “I got out of the bath and made some notes. I realised she needed a documentary to tell her story properly and I thought perhaps I could try to make it.”

Harper had never owned a video camera and had no idea how to shoot a film. She had spent the past four decades working in secretarial jobs, as well as raising her son and supporting her husband in his construction business. “I was busy but something was always missing,” she says. “Something I could do for myself.”

Armed with a sudden sense of purpose and without a current job to keep her occupied, Harper rushed out to buy a basic camera, read the manual and began looking up ways to contact Louise. The police wouldn’t share her details, but after finding the name of her solicitor in the local paper, she left a letter with the firm to be passed on. “Soon after, Louise phoned me and we decided to meet in a cafe in Ipswich,” Harper says. “I told her I’d like to make a documentary to share her story and help her. She agreed, and that was my entry into an entirely new world.”

Following Louise most days for weeks, Harper documented her life on the streets, her drug addiction and sex work, all while learning how to shoot and interview. “She told me that no one had motivated her or really cared about her life,” she says. “She was interested in art and history, so we went to galleries together and I even took her to an afternoon tea – all things she’d never done before. We spent a lot of time together because I had the time to spare.”

The more Harper got to know Louise, the more concerned she became about her life and especially her living situation. “She was basically sleeping in an electrical cupboard on the streets of Ipswich,” she says. “I started booking her into bed and breakfasts to keep her off the streets. It really showed me how lucky I had been. It’s changed my thinking ever since.”

Once she had enough footage, Harper put together a taster of the film and contacted the local BBC News office in Norwich. The idea of an older Ipswich resident befriending a young sex worker and producing a film was so unusual that Harper was invited to a meeting and commissioned to shoot a half-hour special for BBC East, which aired in February 2008. “I couldn’t believe that Louise’s story would be out there,” she says. “I hadn’t told too many people about it so my friends were shocked when it came out. Once it did, I also managed to battle with the council to finally get Louise a proper flat.”

Sixteen years later, Harper, 76, is fully immersed in film-making. After her experience with Louise, she became interested in the world of drug addiction and produced a film for Sky, which was narrated by Davina McCall and followed two mothers coping with the impact of their sons’ drug abuse. She has also completed a commercial film for the seaside town of Southwold and a charity short for an emergency response service. She is now working on a series about women in horticulture as well as a film about the life of female fighter pilots.

“I just can’t stop,” she says. “It really feels like I’ve found my calling. I get ideas all the time, although I can’t make all of them because I fund my own projects and it’s hard to come by funding for older people.”

But age does have some advantages. “I think people are more inclined to be polite around me because I’m older,” she says. “I’ve also gained newfound confidence through this work. I didn’t know whether I’d achieve anything but I just kept going. I weaved around the obstacles in my way.”

As well as changing her life, Harper has recently learned how her films have had a profound impact on other people too. “Louise contacted me last year and we just carried on talking as if no time had passed,” she says. “She told me: ‘You were the only person who believed in me.’ It made that decision to pick up the camera completely worth it.”

You can watch Harper’s films via the link below:

[curseofaphrodite]

hey babes, i saw you were looking for marauders requests and i’ve been obsessed with remus lately, so if you have time and inspiration, i’d like something about just in general what it’s like being with him in the fall, like does he lend you sweaters, do you go on dates, walks, does he make sure you scarf is secure before you go out because it’s windy, does he warm your fingers when they get cold,… just anything remus and fall vibes really :) thanks lovely !!

The Perfect Fall Boyfriend

Remus was an autumn boy. It was easy enough to guess, but it's only been a year since you befriended the marauders (you've to thank the fourth year exam scandal for that) and so, it's the first autumn you're actually spending with them.

Remus transformed to someone else the exact day the first red leaf fell. The sweaters, the hot cocoa that's constantly in his hands, the books - you know this has always been him, but in autumn it felt right.

Making these observations one by one made you realize you were a bit too oblivious to your own intentions. Someway or another, you had actually fallen for the brunette boy.

Unsurprisingly, James had been the first one to notice it. He always wear his heart on his sleeve, whether that's with friendships or simply chasing after Lily Evans, so to see someone obviously trying to cover up their own feelings hadn't went unnoticed.

He soon confronted you about it, and he was too upfront about it that you couldn't even bring up a proper lie.

He kept bugging you to ask out Remus, until one day, you did.

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

"Uhm, Remus?" you called, knowing you had to be silent in the library. You would have preferred to be mute altogether, but James had been giving you the evil eye for a while now. You did promise him you'd ask out Remus today.

"What's up?" Remus didn't even look up. His eyebrows were scrunched while he was reading the Transfiguration book, and he assumed you might have some academic doubt of sort.

"It's not important but-"

"Oh, then hold that thought for two minutes, let me get this spell right." Remus didn't sound rude, just confused. You blinked and stayed silent per his wish, but not before throwing an ugly look at James.

"Hm hm hmmmm nope, can't figure it out. What were you going to say?"

"Well, you know how Slughorn's party is coming up?"

"Is it?" he still appeared distracted so James gestured for you to hurry it up.

"Yes, and remember how we both got the invites?"

"I got an invite?"

"Oh, for Merlin's sake." You pushed his book close and skid it across the table to James. "Can you listen to me for one second?"

"Oh right, sorry." Remus cleared his throat. "So you were saying...?"

As much as he got easily distracted, you got easily annoyed. You stood up angrily.

"Well I was asking you to come to the party with me, but it's clear you'd much rather ignore me altogether."

"Slughorn's party?" Remus The Oblivious looked unfazed. "Are we doing a prank there?"

James facepalmed in the distance.

"No-" you began, way too slowly, because Remus cut through again.

"Then why'd we go there?"

"Because I wanted to go with you!"

"But you never wanted to go either."

"You know what, it's okay. Forget I said anything." You picked up your books hurriedly, not meeting his eyes. "I've to go."

"Y/N?"

But you'd already left, making a mental note to put a hex on James's broom later.

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

Rest assured you avoided Lupin the next few days and he quickly came to miss your absence. He asked around, and no one knew anything about it. No one except James, who quickly went on a speech about he'd never go on dates if he keeps his head buried in books. He did not get the correlation, but once it struck his oblivious brain, he froze.

Y/N L/N asked me on a date? - shock started creeping on his face.

And I didn't realize it?

More shock.

And I said NO?

Remus's face drained of blood. He ran away to find you, leaving James to rant to the wall.

That night, you were studying in the common room when a windswept-haired Remus approached you a bunch of lilies in his hands and an apologetic grin.

"I didn't get the Transfiguration spell right because you were sitting next to me." He said softly. "And I couldn't concentrate on anything else but you."

You rolled your eyes, but smiled in return.

He let out a breath of relief.

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

It's been two days into your relationship and two weeks into fall, and so far, nothing could have been more perfect.

Everything Remus was a part of, so were you. The picture of autumn he made for himself suddenly felt very empty without you.

He was nervous on being a bad boyfriend, so he made sure he'd never even come to the 10 mile radius of it. He made you hot cocoa, he took you out to Hogsmeade, he lent you his sweaters, he put up study dates - he tried to earn your love as much as he tried in his schoolwork, but with more determination. It was adorable and concerning at the same time.

You had to give him a surprise of your own one day, when he walked into his empty dormitory and found a stack of new books, a love letter, some flowers, and a photo album of everything you did till now which included the marauders. They were all a part of you, so your story was incomplete without them.

Remus took that as a sign to relax, that you weren't going to be bored of him anytime soon. But he continued on with the fall dates, as if he's making each and every one count.

And he so did, because those autumn memories became a tradition over the years - right down to the aisle.

THE END

commissions | kofi

[cameronspecial]

Let Me Try To Understand, Angel

Pairing: Frat!Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: Being Stressed About School and Burnt Out

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 0.6K

Summary: Y/N isn't acting like she normally does and Rafe is on a mission to help her out.

Masterlist

As their first semester as sophomores comes to an end, Rafe has noticed the way that Y/N has been withdrawing from the world. He has been trying everything to get her to come out with him, but each text is met with a simple no thank you. Instead of anger filling him, worry is the only thing that Rafe can feel. He hasn’t been in her dorm often because his private room in the frat house is more intimate for them. He quietly knocks on the door, waiting for someone to let him in. Very little light from the room spills into the hallway. Y/N’s hair looked a little greasy, so she threw it up into a bun. She is wearing a large oversized hoodie with sweatpants that are just a little too big for her. Her eyes are droopy and she looks like her soul has been sucked out of her body. The smile that normally spreads across her face doesn’t appear and this tells Rafe that something is wrong. “Angel, are you okay? You haven’t been answering my text,” he questions, stepping closer to her with his hands reaching for her shoulder. She uncharacteristically steps away from his hold, “Yeah, I’ve been busy.” She doesn’t add anything to her statement. 

“Oh. Well, maybe I can just hang out in your room right now. It’s been a while since I’ve seen you,” he offers, hands falling to his side. She shakes her head, trying to push him out the door, “Rafe, I really don’t want to be around anyone right now. Can you go?” “I will, but I can tell something is wrong. Your room is so dark. It’s not like you,” he confesses. 

“You wouldn’t understand.”

“Then let me try to understand, Angel. I can’t do that if you try to push me away. Maybe, I can help or I can just listen.”

At the offer of having someone to vent to, a huge weight feels like it is being lifted off of her shoulders. She collapses into his arms and buries her head into his chest. “I just feel so burnt out. Everything I have to do, even the smallest of tasks, takes so much out of me. I haven’t read a page of my book since last week. I’m just going through the motions of life. I don’t think I can do this anymore, Rafe,” she rants to him. His hand smoothes down her hair and he kisses her temple, “I’m so sorry, you are feeling this way. What can I do to help lighten your load? Do you want me to pay someone to do the rest of your assignments? Because I will. I will do anything to help you.” She lets out a snotty giggle with a shake of her head, “No, no. I can get through my own assignments. But do you think I can stay at your house for a few days and can we take a shower together?” This would be something new to them. She stays at his house a lot, but she only sleeps over every other day. This would be the first time she slept more than two nights in a row at his house. “I just need to be with you,” she adds in a whisper. He kisses her head, “Of course, you can stay as long as you want. Why don’t you take a really quick power nap? I’ll pack your stuff up for you.”

As she watches her boyfriend get her stuff into bags, she can’t help but be grateful that she met someone as caring and loving, whose attention is always on helping her well-being. 

Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @queen-shadow22 @victory-in-the-llama

[mrsjoeythehurler]

When I Met You

(OC FMC x Liam Mairi)

I’ve decided to write a fic about an OC and Liam Mairi from Fourth Wing. It’s going to follow the events of the first book and I’m so excited to share it with you. This is my first fic I’ve ever written so keep that in mind while reading :)

I hope you enjoy it!

All characters except for Aurora Sallow who is my OC and the FMC of this fic belong to Rebecca Yarros. The plot of Fourth Wing also belongs to Rebecca Yarros.

Content Warnings: most of the warnings that are for Fourth Wing are also going to be for this fic. That includes: Blood, death, injury, violence and war. The only content warning I am adding is panic attacks (2).

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ Aurora Sallow ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

It's Conscription Day—a day I'm not particularly happy to take part in, but I don't have a choice.

I was always meant to become a Scribe. I was always meant to look at books all day and spend my time transcribing them. It's what I've been studying for since I could remember.

That all changed when my parents sat me down two days ago to tell me I was required to become a Rider. My whole world was flipped upside down, my entire future ripped away from me in one 20-minute conversation.

The Riders' Quadrant is apparently in need of more Riders. I heard it's because most dragons are uninterested in bonding with humans, and I'm one of the unlucky ones who's been chosen to try and change that.

Looking around me, I see guards mounted on either side of the entrance and walking about. I see people hugging and conversing with their loved ones and the occasional person silently praying, most likely to any gods who will listen to ensure their safety. They're probably going towards the same destination as me.

Sighing, I look down and make sure my outfit is in order before fixing my hair. I tried to dress appropriately for the Riders' Quadrant—well, as appropriately as my closet back home had to offer. I'm wearing a gray long-sleeved shirt and corset, black pants that are a bit too tight for my liking, and my favorite pair of black platform boots. I'm just about to look through my bag to double-check that I have everything when I hear a familiar voice.

It's Violet Sorrengail. We've been classmates for a really long time. She's always been really kind and someone I consider a friend. Like me, Violet always wanted to become a Scribe; we would always talk about our hopes for the future and look forward to reading books all day.

What is she doing in this line?

She's talking to her sister Mira, so I don't want to interrupt, but I want to know why she's not with the Scribes anymore. She was always among the most intelligent people in our class, if not the smartest. She was going to be the best Scribe the Quadrant ever had. I don't see her wanting to give that up, especially considering it was her dream.

The line continues to move slowly, and when there's only one person ahead of me, I start to really feel the anxiety. I don't know how I'm going to do this. I didn't know two days ago, and I sure as hell don't know now. Who knows if I'll even pass the Parapet? I could be slowly walking towards my death right now. Maybe I should have talked to my parents more and tried to convince them that I can't do this and that anyone else out there is a better fit for this than I am. But I hate disappointing people. My parents don't even know that my panic attacks are back. They were so happy and relieved that I was doing better over the last year, but it all fell apart.

"Next!" Someone calls from ahead of the line.

It's a rider, a marked rider. Along with Captain Fitzgibbons, who’s a Scribe. "Aurora Sallow? First Violet Sorrengail, and now you?"

I give him a small smile. "I'm sorry, sir."

He nods. "It will be sad to see you go. Your future as a Scribe looked so bright."

I want to cry. Instead, I keep my small smile in place and try my best to keep my voice level. "Thank you."

As I go through the entrance, I climb the hundreds of stairs.

After what feels like 100 hours, I'm at the top of the turret, and it's raining. The turret is all stone, formed in a circular platform. The river below shines, with the sun glinting off the surface. Darkness runs through it that rivals the deep sea. I shouldn't have looked down.

Straight ahead lies the Parapet. It's a very slim bridge made of stone with nothing on either side to hold onto. It's a test to see how well you would manage while riding a dragon.

I'm screwed.

There are three riders at the entrance, but only one catches my eye—a mountain of a man with black hair and warm, tawny skin. He turns my way, and I can see the scar running through his left eyebrow, and that's when I know who it is. Xaden Riorson.

Xaden is the son of the Great Betrayer, Fen Riorson, who led the Rebellion. All of the children of the rebels were forced to join the Riders' Quadrant in response to their parents' decisions. I bet they hoped Xaden would get killed, but they were wrong. He's a third-year Wingleader now.

And he's also kind of scary.

Once he sees me staring at him, he narrows his eyes. I'm not sure if it's with recognition or disgust.

Then, I decide to wave at him like an idiot.

He turns back to talk to the Rider beside him, pretending I don't exist.

Yeah, I'm so screwed.

"Next!" Another Rider calls, and I step forward.

[meraki-yao]

RWRB Full-Cast Audiobook Imaginations

So with the sequel on the horizon, we’re not that far from a full-cast re-recording of the audiobook, right?

I listen to the audiobook more than I read the book, mostly because I can listen to it while doing other stuff, and no offence to the original narrator, but while it’s good, it’s not the best. I kind of cringe at his British accent for Henry.

So I have a lot of thoughts.

The thing is with an audiobook, we can get both the wonderful vocal performance of the movie cast, and the iconic book lines, the ones that didn’t, and frankly, could never have made it into the movie due to format restrictions:

Sexy explicit sex scenes

Sexy explicit sex lines “For fuck’s sake, man, you just had my dick in your mouth, you can kiss me good-night”, “I want you to fuck me”, “I’ve been thinking about your mouth on me all well”

Emails in their entirety

Email openings and endings “Huge Raging Heache Prince Henry of Who Cares”, “First Son of Shirking Responsibilities”, “Horrible Revolting Heir”, “First Son of Founding Father Sacrilege”, “Haplessly Romantic Heretic Prince Henry the Utterly Daft”

Email historical quotes “The whole is a mass of fools and knaves; I could almost except you”, “I meet you in every dream”

Swearing and explicit language “fucking shit” “I fucking love you, okay?”

Internal Struggle

Iconic lines that didn’t make it into the movie for adaptation and story purposes “I’m never gonna love anybody in the world like I love you” “I love him on purpose”, “America, he is my choice”

Like, imagine hearing all of this in Taylor, in Nick, in Sarah and Uma and Ellie and Rachel and Thomas and Aneesh and Cfiton etc etc 's voice. Just imagine it!!!

Another thing to add is that to put it in simple terms, the current version of the audiobook does the dialogue lines closer to theatre acting: more enunciated, more inflection, and slower. Which is fine in its own right (I’m a theatre kid). But with the cast audiobook, hopefully, we can get them to do something closer to film acting, i.e. closer to reality, reading the lines as they would if they were to shoot those scenes.

Which is gonna make big moments like sexy times and confrontations a lot of fun :D

And something really entertaining to think about is now that we also know the cast and their dynamic is thinking about how much fun they would have while recording the book, especially when they have scenes together. And it’s not necessarily just Taynick, it’s group scenes with the whole Super Six, like the karaoke scene in chapter seven, or the Texas Holiday Scenes with Firstprince and Junora.

Like, Imagine it, the actors in the same recording studio, maybe even on the same couch:

Taylor and Nick laughing while reading off the insults from the earlier frienemies days of their relationship

Taylor and Nick squirming and playfully hitting each other when recording lines for sexy scenes like the first night, or the tack room, or Wimbledon

The cast shouting and booing (playfully) whenever someone messes up a line in their group scenes

The chaotic fun that is the LA karaoke scene, everybody’s laughing, Ellie gets to be the singular sober person while everyone else acts drunk, Nick singing Don’t Stop Me Now shittier (Nick has the voice of an angel but book Henry can’t sing for shit),

Taylor and Nick giving each other hugs after screaming at each other for the Kensington confrontation

Nick grinning smugly at every book height difference mention (:<

More of Taylor speaking Spanish!!!

Thomas gets to be a proper asshole villain who later turns into awkward older brother who's trying

Ellie gets to do the pie metaphor grief monologue  

Taylor gets to do another speech (he’s really good at delivering speeches)

 I want to quickly reiterate that I am in no way unhappy with what we got in the end for the movie; I love it to pieces. However, as Matthew and Casey said, there are two “canonical” versions of the story now, and since audiobooks are an option, it would be really nice to connect this aspect of the movie verse with the book verse in some sort of middle ground.

So yeah Audible? Amazon? Get on with it!!!

@almightaylor this was the long post I mentioned, I literally started this in July lol

[ma1dita]

truth be told

can be read as a standalone, but part one can be found here: liar, liar

this was a request! here

words: 3k

summary: After everything, only the truth remains. A continuation of your life with Sirius. Loosely follows the events of the books. Sirius Black x fem!reader

warnings: one use of y/n, ANGST guys if i cried writing this you will too, non-descript smut for the plot, ending open to interpretation, Sirius deserved a better life. star-crossed lovers strike again!

a/n: it has been months but i wanted to get this right. Saddest shit I’ve written in a while, hope you enjoy! Let’s rant about how the Blacks have the saddest character arcs…. And this has an open ending, tell me what you think happened!! Tunes attached at the end for your reading pleasure.

(posted: 12/18/23)

—

There’s always a proper explanation for drastic life changes. Surely, there’s a reason this keeps happening to you.

At the very least, this time around you feel as if you owe it to your dead friends. You’d never thought you’d be the one to outlive all of them, with how much the world has gone to spite you, but then, you heard about Harry Potter. It was never fair, the way he lost loved ones that you loved too. Perhaps it was sympathy or your ongoing savior complex, but 12 years gives you a lot of time to ponder past transgressions.

So when Remus sent you an urgent letter about Peter being found alive, arranging your international portkey to meet them at Hogwarts immediately was a no-brainer.

Professor Remus, who is so eloquent with words, just casually had to omit the fact that your ex was also back in the picture. And that he was the most wanted wizard in Britain. Truthfully, your life has been much quieter since him. There’s truth in these details…

Now, as you follow Severus Snape to the Shrieking Shack under the guise of catching your ex red-handed, something about this scene feels familiar.

The seed of doubt that was planted back then still lingers as a big and scary thing, all twisted and it rips open old scars for those involved. It makes you stop in your tracks at the entrance of the base of the Whomping Willow and you can't help but be struck by the thought of how much things have changed since that fateful night all those years ago. And yet, somehow, it is all the same.

A pang of guilt stabs at you. The night was supposed to be about catching the big bad Sirius Black, but you couldn't help but be reminded of how important he had been to you back then, and how you loved him. Love him. It was almost as if you were playing the part of the traitor rather than looking for one...

You’re 33 now, after all. What else could go wrong?

—

You hesitate outside the entryway, listening to voices from your past and present intermingle, and the thundering in your heart drowns out the sound of your heavy breathing. Godric, and they said Harry has his life threatened every year? Isn’t Hogwarts supposed to be the safest place on Earth?

As Severus raises his wand to attack Sirius, you step into the light and wordlessly stupefy your colleague, his body dropping to the floor like a bag of rocks. Multiple pairs of eyes meet, some in fear and confusion, but you are immediately drawn to him, his presence calling something within your soul as it did 12 years prior. Sirius Black, your lost love, all covered in grime and more suffering than man. He has that look on his face, the one he’d get when he was about to make a point— and it irritates you so quickly that it’s almost debilitating.

The rush of emotions as you see him again floods you with a memory of a time like this long ago. It hits you like a tide that washes over your senses, the way one breathes in saltwater, all nostalgia and raging hurt, and as you gulp in oxygen, breathing heavily. For a second, the shadows in this dark room look like the friends you lost on a night this, one you no longer talk about.

Guilt, anger, and love all vie for your attention but your mind goes numb as Sirius steps closer, his face twisted in a wry smile as he meets your gaze.

"Hello, wife." He whispers, his voice tinged with affection and regret. He’s different now, older… starved. Sirius steps closer to you blinking slowly, hand grazing your wrist like he’s afraid you’re a figment of his imagination again. He’s spent a lot of time over the years imagining you. But then the anger comes back to the forefront of your brain before he can do anything about it.

You sock him hard in the jaw, and he crumples to the ground like paper. What a scene— Severus lying unconscious behind you, Sirius keeled over holding his jaw, and the Golden Trio stares at you with open mouths.

“Who even are you?” A ginger boy holding a ball of fur almost howls in disbelief. Is that…

“Good to have you back, love,” Remus says with a knowing grin, and then all you can hear is Sirius’s laughter. Despite the blood dripping from his lips he laughs, so filled with enjoyment that he hasn't felt in years.

“Someone’s gotta keep you two in line,” you huff, looking around quickly as you point your wand at the damn rat of a man hiding in the grasp of these children.

“Put him down so I can hurt him,” You spit, and Peter Pettigrew, ever the petty little man launches himself at you going down in a flurry of multicolored sparks and misfired spells.

“Kill him, baby, kill him! You knew it wasn’t me, didn’t you? I’ve been waiting for this… 12 years of it! In Azkaban!” Sirius chortles, almost rocking on the floor in glee, finding this hilarious.

“Quiet you git, or I’ll make sure you’re next!”

A low growl comes out of Remus, and you realize revenge will have to wait once more, pushing the Trio out of the shack. One thing is clear in your mind as you run for your life.

You have got to stop testing fate.

—

Tomorrow, you turn 34. What better way to celebrate than to pay a visit to your ex-boyfriend after he escaped from Azkaban? Clearly, Remus Lupin thinks it’s his best idea yet.

“He’s not doing so well, (Y/N). Can’t seem to adjust at Grimmauld Place and find a new normal…” Remus mutters over the floo network late at night.

“I don’t think normal and that place could ever belong in the same sentence,” you say with a furrowed brow. From one prison to another, you think.

“I just… I thought I’d floo you because I’m running out of ideas. You know… you knew him best.” The fireplace illuminates your face in the small apartment you’ve been residing in for the past month since your return.

“Does it matter? We’re strangers again, just bound together by hazy memories. I wouldn’t know what to do…”

“But I think you do, and he wants you there. Just doesn’t know how to say it. For some of us, memories are all we have.” The image of Remus’s head was getting licked at by the hot flames, and the idea of being in front of Sirius again, not for Order business, but to be even a friend, after everything…

You felt like you were on fire too.

“Isn’t it ironic that the happy memories hurt more than the sad ones, Rem?” Silence greets you from the other end of the fire, both of you knowing that it’s the truth

Sirius sees you approaching the house in the early morning as he watches out the window after another sleepless night. His body jerks up from his hunched position at the bay window, wiping at the corners of his eyes. You came. You’re here. For him.

He meets you downstairs, daybreak peeking in rays of blue and purple behind you, the frame of the doorway separating the two of you along with the realization that you’ve missed each other for longer than you’ve known one another.

You step back into his space, and he takes your coat quietly, scared to make another mistake, scared to push you away like he has many times before.

Something akin to grief holds you there in the foyer, staring at each other in a new light, faces changed by the life you should have lived together. For right now, there’s nothing more to hide, nothing less than the simple truth that you are two different bodies with the same souls. There is no struggle in the way your hand reaches out for his chest, to feel the steady beat of his heart, and for the first time in a while, you both feel alive.

“Sirius…” you whisper. No nicknames, because what do you call him after all that? The man who left that night with hushed promises and left you to handle the wreckage.

The world keeps moving and he’s still stuck there in that cell. In this house. Sirius can’t seem to walk away from what haunts him, but at the sound of your voice saying his name he smiles.

No one’s said his name that kindly to him in years. Not in the way that you do.

“Happy birthday, gorgeous.”

—

You’re 35 now, and you’ve realized that it takes time. Time is all you have when your love is in hiding. You’re caught again between the blurry lines of friends and something more, but the work that has to be done comes first before anything.

And it is driving Remus mad.

You moved into one of the many spare rooms at Grimmauld Place when Remus did, to keep Sirius company and organize affairs for the Order. But to watch you two dance around each other awkwardly makes him want to claw at his skin more than he already has.

“Friends stick together. We help each other out,” you say nonchalantly and Sirius’ head bobs as he helps you put the groceries away one day. Remus is not as amused.

There are a lot of things to fix here, with the house swarming with dark magic and cursed artifacts. You all spent weeks researching the combination of anti-sticking charms to tear down the family tapestry.

Wretched Walburga’s painting was almost one with the foundation of the building, so you found a way to magic it shut forever. To take down the bad memories brick by brick, hurt and shame—if that’s what he wanted, you and Remus made sure it was what he would get. It’s what he deserved. When you finally showed Sirius the closed-off wall, without the invidious glare of his birthgiver, he thought he could kiss you with the happiness it brought him. You have a way of doing that, so intentional with your words, and how you’ve been caring for him, giving him the room he’s learning to occupy again…

So he did.

Hesitantly, then desperately drinking you in like a man left starved, and he had years of a fill to catch up on. He could drown in you if you’d let him.

And you did.

You kissed in the middle of the living room he was once damned in, legs hoisted over his hips as you fall onto the sofa. Frantic movements, kisses conveying words left unsaid, and at one point you both cry in pleasure and relief at being in each other’s arms again. If everything’s gone wrong in life, dear Circe, was this finally right.

His thrusts are slow as he gazes at you from above, hair moved out of your face to properly see you. Calloused hands roam your body that he wishes to reacquaint himself with from the inside out, from your skin to your bones.

“It’s okay,” you sigh as you touch his jaw, “I’m not going anywhere.”

“I’m scared to ruin this. To ruin you.”

Your hips slow as you reach around to hug him. Sirius had long come to terms with the fact that he ruins everything he touches, and you’re not an exception in a long line of proof. You gently pull his body down before rolling over him, placing kisses everywhere you could reach. The crease in his forehead, his sunken in collarbones, the lean of his chest until your eyes and lips fall upon the dark etch of your name on his ribcage, under his heart. It joins the many other tattoos that grace his slender body, but it’s the only one in bright, devastating red. Your eyes meet again.

“I…they kept trying to take the necklace away. I had to remember you somehow. I’m sorry,” he says bashfully, eyes flickering to the ceiling in timidity, and the apology slips out from his lips. It makes you smile at how far he is from the arrogant man you once knew.

“Then ruin me then. Again. I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Your approval stokes the fire in him, hands grabbing for dear life to feel you more underneath his fingertips and with the movements he makes from under you, striking hard like he has something he needs to prove. As you sigh into his neck and hold tightly onto his hand, you think of how loving him has always been red. Necklace or not, that has always been the truth.

Naked underneath a throw blanket that might scar Remus’ senses when he gets back from his mission and surrounded by the construction job of a house he once hated, Sirius breathes easily with you resting upon his chest. He hasn’t dreamed in a long while, but here, he can conjure images of finally marrying you and making this house a home.

“What are you thinking about? Tell me the truth,” you whisper, and he stops breathing, thinking you’re already asleep. Your fingers rub a mark on his neck lovingly.

“I want you to call me anything else. Baby, sweetness, darling…” he muses with a crackly voice.

“I don’t like my name. You’ve always known that. I don’t think it’s ever been mine. But I have always been yours, even when I didn’t know it. Even if you don’t want me.”

You press yourself closer to him, if that’s even humanly possible, gripping onto his soul.

“Husband it is then.”

—

At 36, you didn’t think you’d be having this fight with him again.

It wouldn’t be Sirius if he didn’t put up a fight. The man who’s spent his entire life fighting to get everything he wants or even a fraction of what he felt he needed. So why would loving him be any more simple?

He won’t easily admit that he’s never experienced life the way he wanted to unless he was with you, the only constant, his only calm. But there’s no way in hell you’re letting him rush out into the night again to never be seen.

“Harry needs me, my love. I need to protect him! You need to stay here,” Sirius bites back at the desperation writhing through his being, needing for you to understand that he wants you safe too.

“I’m tired of fighting you, babe, I can’t…” Your hands slam onto the dining table as he paces around it, running away from you again as he grabs things he needs. The lack of air in your lungs is making everything rush to your head, anxiety making you spiral as you chase him again, reaching out for him like trying to grapple with smoke.

“I can’t do this. I’m not letting you leave without me again,” you wail, and he’s not listening, hyperfocused on saving one of the few people he has left to live for. He laces his boots haphazardly, keys being thrown into his jacket pocket, and it all boils over.

“SIRIUS!” you scream. He stops in his tracks and looks at you in the moonlight, face illuminated by the kitchen window. You’re crying, shaking, with your hand still outstretched for him to hold. He pulls you into his arms and kisses your forehead with all the love he can muster.

“I...can’t lose you again. Could it be easy this once? I’m not the enemy here. Please don’t fight me on this,” you heave between soft sobs, hands crinkling his shirt to keep you grounded.

“You’re coming.” he surrenders, and you nod, both of you knowing it’s the truth. The blue light of a refashioned heart necklace lights the space between you. Fear fills the air again, and he silently grabs your jacket, zipping it up and tucking the pendant underneath your shirt. His thumb brushes over your jaw in an unhurried moment as he looks at you long enough that you wish to stay here forever.

“I love you.”

“I know, husband. I love you.”

Your hand grips onto his and you apparate to the Department of Mysteries.

—

The quiet tragedy of your love will never truly leave your ribcage, and Sirius’s quite literally etched in the skin and bones of him, under his heart.

One moment, he’s fighting for his life with you beside him, and the next, he’s falling. The love never disappeared, though it appeared differently the second time around. You couldn’t love each other the same way twice, with everything that’s changed since the beginning of it, but the love was there. It evolved with you. It endures.

You’re the only family he needs, and this point is further solidified when his cousin sends a killing curse his way, and his saving grace is you letting go of his hand to to blast her into oblivion. He trips backward to the Veil all the same.

“Wife…” he breathes out, being pulled in by nothingness. Your body turns slowly and your eyes meet, his hand out his hand stretches to reach yours. His eyes reflect the red glow of the pendant on your chest, and then you know what to do.

“Husband!” The sound of your voice brings a smile to his face and he shuts his eyes not needing to know how this will end because you’re here, and barely a breath away.

There wasn’t even a second thought to grab his hand, and the both of you are falling, falling again. Hands intertwined, both ringless, yet all the more secure and true. This is how it was meant to be.

—

“I can’t decide if time

Is my enemy

Or my friend

Time takes the pain away

But time takes you away too.”

-Whitney Hanson

taglist (OPEN): @jsjcue

love me some tunes! I listened to these three songs while I wrote: cedar by gracie abrams, adam's ribs by jensen mcrae, the alcott by the national (ft. taylor swift)

[whitmore]

fitmc madagio lore full transcript under the cut bc it’s so so interesting and also for community archival purposes

FIT: I saw you 200 blocks away. You aren’t sneaky.

FIT: If you’re new, I have nothing for you.

FIT: Here, it’s every person for themselves

FIT: Now, fuck off.

FIT: Still there?

FIT: I guess you want to learn the hard way.

FIT: ??!????

FIT: … who are you?

FIT: … what is your name?

FIT: … where exactly did you come from?

MADAGIO: Do not be afraid.

MADAGIO: Allow me to congratulate you.

MADAGIO: An ordinary human would’ve been driven to madness in a place like this.

MADAGIO: A toxic wasteland, one of the worst I’ve seen.

MADAGIO: I can see it in your eyes.

MADAGIO: Your aggression serves to hide the pain of the unimaginable horrors you have witnessed, and judging by your looks, perhaps perpetuated?

MADAGIO: I’ve been seeking someone with your level of mental fortitude…..

MADAGIO: The ability to resist both madness and toxicity.

MADAGIO: I detected the remnants of a very powerful signal in this world, so I came to investigate.

MADAGIO: I guess it would be a good place to look for people like you and I was right.

FIT: Sounds like bullshit to me.

MADAGIO: Apologies. Allow me to introduce myself.

MADAGIO: I am known as Madagio. are used to live on an island. It was one of many… All connected together by the same system. The island that was my home well….. let’s just say… things happened. Ever since I’ve gained the ability to travel across worlds, in search of skilled survivalists and deceivers, people who can hide in plain sight in extreme conditions. Judging by your age, you’ve survived here for a very long time. Perhaps you are interested in a change of scenery. If you are, meet me at the location in that book. We can discuss more there.

[BOOK READS: Meet me in the ruins of the obsidian outpost to the south. / Look underneath the red beacon. / I’ll be waiting…..]

—

FIT: That sounded like an end portal! What’s going on??!?!?

—

MADAGIO: You’ve arrived quickly, excellent. I see you noticed my friends on the way here. They are my eyes and ears; an extension of me. Now listen carefully. I would like to offer you a job Fit. One of the islands in the system I spoke of earlier is named Quesadilla. It’s a beautiful place, but it hides many secrets. Secrets that I must have at all costs. They will soon be accepting visitors for the first time in many years. right now the only way onto the island is by train. Most of the tickets have already been given out. However….. I can arrange for you to receive one. To keep your cover, you will need to act like you are on a vacation. Once you arrive on the island, I want you to start collecting information. Player data, island statistics, the emotions of your neighbors… …and analytical data on how it all connects together.

FIT: Player data? Statistics? Why do you want that stuff?

MADAGIO: In time it will make sense. As you collect it, I want you to report your findings to me. It may be difficult given the island’s current isolation, but you’ll find a way. A wasteland nomad like you traveling to Quesadilla will be very unexpected. Which is why I want you to blend in. Become friends with your neighbors. You might even know some of them already, so it should be easy. But do not form attachments, it will only complicate things. You are there for a very specific purpose. While you are on Quesadilla… I will be elsewhere, making preparations for something very important. You will have exactly one year to accomplish this task. if you are successful, your payment will ensure you have an early retirement. If you are unable to complete it in that time, I may have to help you… But let me make something very clear. Should you disregard the mission entirely… Or attempt to cheat me… I will ensure you spend the rest of your life in this toxic and vile waste land. Doomed to wander, and die in obscurity… And anyone who made connections with on Quesadilla will suffer. This is not a game to me. These, as I have stated, are the terms of this contract. If you step through the portal, it means you accept. But there is no turning back. Shall we begin?

FIT: 10 years is a long time to be stuck in the same wasteland. You know what I need? A vacation.

—

FIT: Finally, I can remember your name.

FIT: I care about the people on this island. I’ll complete the job, but you better not be using their data to do harm.

[vonnawithav]

I don’t like romance in movies

Now, this is totally personal opinion and preference, so please keep that in mind when reading.

“I don’t like romance plots in movies”

That sounds so weird I know. Especially when this entire blog I dedicated to one ineffable couple I’ve hyper fixated on ever since I offhandedly watched a random show on prime when I was bored.

There’s lots of things I don’t like about the idea of stereotypical *ahem, usually heterosexual* romance, and one of those things is the perceived intensity of attraction.

While I understand it to an extent, I also don’t. On the few occasions I’ve been romantically interested in someone I’ve never had the urge to rip their clothes off and jump their skin, or marry them that afternoon.

I do however, want to show them my book collection, send them obscure memes, talk about that one scene in that one show I can’t move on from yet, listen to them talk about their passions, share romantic but subtle moments, and just generally enjoy each other’s company.

Maybe this is because my lack of neurotypical tendencies, my demisexuality, or just my queerness in general, I don’t know.

But this type of romance is rarely shown in media, (again, in my personal viewing experience), especially in straight media.

You’re probably wondering what the fuck this has to do with movies. Same honestly I lost my train of thought one sec-

Ah yes.

Romance in movies feels immensely rushed to me. There is no time to sit and talk while you watch the sunrise, there cannot be an entire episode where the entire plot line is your traumatic childhood and how you two can bond over the fact both of your dads left for milk and never came back, or your wooden frog collection.

Noooo, instead, there must be this instant inexplicable attraction that causes both of your hormones to go haywire, because the plot only has two hours to not only get through this plot line BUT the other three in the background.

For romance to work in my head, 👏🏾I 👏🏾 Need 👏🏾 Bonding 👏🏾 time 👏🏾.

That’s one of the many reasons I love OFMD and Good Omens so much, we get to see that bonding time.

Ed and Stede chilling while having breakfast in bed while they look at each other lovingly?

Goals.

Azira and Crowley sitting and enjoying a good bottle of wine while talking about the end of the world?

Never seen anything better.

I think romance is at its best when subtle and calming, not frantic and unnerving.

Don’t get me wrong, I think franticness has its place in romance, especially once sexual tension has begun, but there needs to be large spaces of comfort and safety in between. (In my personal opinion)

Alrighty then, I’ll be off.

Lmk if you see where I’m coming from, or if I’m just posting insane ramblings because I’m sleep deprived and recovering from a cold 🥲.

[kingofbodyrolls]

My Heart's Home (m) | pjm | nine

🐴Chapter summary: You haven’t talked to Jimin in months— he has been successful in avoiding you since he saw Yoongi kiss you. But when a charity gala forces you together, will you erupt like an active volcano? 🐴Chapter title: Take the Rain Away 🐴Pairings: jimin x reader (main), jungkook x reader (only happens once in the first chapter), jungkook x OC (jessi), namjoon x OC (jessi), yoongi x hoseok, namjoon x oc, seokjin x oc, taehyung x oc 🐴Characters: female reader (isn’t mentioned by name and no “y/n”), Jimin, Jungkook, Namjoon, Yoongi, Hoseok, Seokjin, Taehyung and four female original characters. 🐴Genre/AU: ranch!au, slice of life!au, soulmate!au, cowboy!au + smut, humor, fluff, romance, slow burn and angst 🐴Rating: mature/explicit/R18 – this is mature/explicit content, so minors, please do not interact!

🐴Disclaimer: I do not own BTS or know them personally and this work of fiction is purely fictional and for entertainment purposes only. The actions and personalities described in the story do not reflect those of BTS— it’s just fiction. Also, if you would kindly read the tags/warnings before reading, that would be lovely: and if you don’t like whatever is described in the tags, just hit return and find something else to read. Thank you 🌸 🐴Chapter warnings: yelling and curse words 🤭 Jin’s pink slipper is finally here (though it’s not him wielding it lol) 🩴 🐴Status: completed 🥳 🐴Word count: 8.2k

🐴Taglist: @kookswifesblog, @kiki-zb, @babejinnie, @ownthesunshine, @allie-is-a-panda, @glllhjh, @bergandysam, @13-manggaetteok, @jeonsbabygirlsworld, @antisocial-mochi267,

🛑 psa to all you lovely people on the taglist, I’ve seen that some of you aren’t interacting… I’m wondering if you’re still reading or not— do you wish to be removed from the taglist? It’s okay if you don’t like it anymore, I can remove you if you want to 🛑

🐴Now playing 💿 “Take the Rain Away” by Rebecca Lavelle. [Wanna listen to the serie’s playlist?] 🐴Author’s note: can you tell I wrote this chapter while severely depressed (as I did the previous)? 🥲 But, it was very easy to channel all my feelings into it, so I wrote it in like a day while crying most of the time. But here it is! Also, again I’m sorry. I’m really going through it and dealing with my depression, so I’m sorry if I take longer to reply… I do look at your messages though! I don’t know, life is hard and I’m waiting to get a referral from my doctor… all that shit takes such a freaking long time! But yeah, I’m still struggling, but I’m doing my best to hang in there; bad days and a few good days finally. Thank you all so much for reading and for sticking with the story, tbh there were a few times in the latest chapters where I just wanted to delete it all and stop posting.. But yeah, thank fuck🫂 Also… I really hope you’ll love the next chapter and please don’t hesitate to let me know your thoughts in either a comment or a reblog ☀️💦 🐴Author’s note #2: I'm sorry… today I'm feeling extremely emotional and anxious. It’s making me cry and my head is so heavy with a lot of thoughts… I hope you still like the chapter, right now I’m afraid it’s crap, so I’ll go hide (don't mind me, this is 50% my anxiety speaking). See ya on Thursday lovelies!

It’s been cross posted to AO3 if you prefer to read there. Wanna see the book cover?

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“Take the rain away Take the rain away Give me hope Give me love Make it sweet from above Take the rain away Oh take the rain away Give me praise Give me heart Take the rain away”- ‘Take the Rain Away’ by Rebecca Lavelle

The rain pelts on your windows, a rhythmic symphony against the glass that serves as the melodic backdrop to your dance with the paintbrush. Each stroke elicits a clench in your heart, a poignant harmony with the emotions that escape onto the canvas. Despite a tear finding its way down your cheek, you persist. The canvas becomes a vibrant tapestry, weaving through an array of red hues, from the delicate blush of pink to the profound richness of vermillion. In this intimate dance, you surrender to the guidance of the brush, allowing the strokes to tell a story only your heart understands.

The paintbrush becomes the voice of your unspoken thoughts, an ethereal extension of your mind that guides you through an escape. It whisks you away to an alternate reality, a place where joy and serenity prevail. Yet, as you gaze upon your canvas, the illusion shatters – a mosaic of red tones, a stark reflection of your inner turmoil. You’re aware of the truth it conceals, reluctant to acknowledge the lingering ache for a man who remains silent, a man whose choices have been clear and that choice wasn’t you. But why the heck would he decide to date someone that looks like you?

The baffling revelation still eludes you, a persistent enigma that has gnawed at your thoughts for days since the girls disclosed it. The meaning behind it remains a puzzle, and you find yourself grappling with the uncertainty. There’s an urge to confront Jimin, to seek answers, but the apprehension holds you back. 

Instead, you retreat to the solace of your bedroom, losing yourself in the strokes of your paintbrush. Each canvas becomes a testament to your emotional turmoil, saturated in shades of red that echo anger and sadness. The thought of whether anyone would buy these artworks fades into insignificance; the therapeutic process takes precedence, offering a semblance of peace in the midst of your inner storm.

For a solid week, the relentless rain has played its melancholic symphony, a constant companion to your shifting moods. While you don’t inherently despise the rain, its prolonged presence begins to cast a subtle veil of gloom. The weather, once a neutral backdrop, now becomes a weight on your shoulders, a persistent force tugging at the edges of your mind, leaving a trace of subtle melancholy in its wake.

Perhaps a twinge of bitterness creeps in, accompanied by an admission of jealousy as you observe Jungkook becoming a frequent overnight guest. Their shared moments are anything but discreet, the resonance of their love making echoing through the walls. You’ve mastered the art of drowning out those sounds, resorting to nocturnal strolls when needed. In the depths of your heart, you yearn for the same intimacy, but with Jimin. 

You sigh, feeling utterly deflated. Life never goes the way to want it to. Why can’t you just have something good happening for once?

In the dead of night, raindrops patter on your skin as you venture out once more for a solitary walk. The rhythmic percussion of raindrops becomes a welcome reprieve, drowning out the less-than-subtle sounds emanating from your sister’s room. Ugh. it’s just great— now you can’t stand people in love anymore! Despite your genuine happiness for your sister and Jungkook, witnessing their affectionate gestures becomes a bitter pill to swallow. The kisses, the embraces, the whispered words—all of it, a poignant reminder of what you yearn for with Jimin. 

If only you could have that.

You know that jealousy is a nasty feeling and it leaves you feeling bitter inside.

The rain penetrates your jacket, seeping through to your skin—a subtle reminder of your lack of preparation. Cursing under your breath, you navigate through the yard, each step burdened with the weight of your drenched attire. As you reach one of the paddocks, darkness envelops you, the atmosphere dense and humid, mirroring the warmth and heaviness echoing in your chest. Yet, you yearn for this feeling to dissipate, much like the wishful thought that the rain will cease, allowing the sun to once again cast its hopeful rays upon you.

Lifting your gaze to the sky, the night sky unfolds above you, a vast canvas adorned with innumerable stars shimmering in their cosmic dance. A sigh escapes your lips, a blend of appreciation and melancholy. The celestial display, though undeniably beautiful, carries a bittersweet weight tonight, stirring emotions that twirl like distant constellations in the vast expanse above.

With the rain as your shield, you ponder whether it’s safe to return inside again or not. Opting to let the rhythmic dance of raindrops cloak you further, you choose the soothing drumbeat of rain over the potential moans echoing through the walls. It’s better to give them more time to finish whatever they are doing, instead of going back and having to listen to it.

As the rain clings to your clothes and skin, an uncomfortable yet strangely welcomed sensation, you yearn for more than just the soothing touch of the downpour. Hoping against hope, you wish the rain could wash away the turmoil in your chest, or perhaps, deliver to you the one thing you crave and need the most—love. 

Jimin.

In the recesses of your heart, the truth echoes loudly— he is the one meant for you, and the regret gnaws at your soul for not confessing your feelings earlier. The fear of disrupting and jeopardizing his current relationship hangs heavy, a bitter pill you swallow. His decision is made, and you must bear the weight of it. 

Frustration clenches your hands as you yearn for a conversation, a connection—anything to breach the walls he’s created, leaving you to wonder why he’s avoiding you or won’t acknowledge you at all.

As your breath quickens, tears intertwine with the raindrops on your cheeks, a blurred fusion where your own sorrows become indistinguishable from the weeping sky.

Your clothes cling to you, saturated by the persistent rain, and you decide it’s time to retreat from the star-studded night. With a silent farewell to the celestial display, you make your way back into the house, yearning for the solace of a quiet room, and silently hoping your sister and Jungkook have concluded their love making.

As you open the door and traverse the hallway, the muffled exchange of hushed voices reaches your ears, causing your heart to sink. Determined, you press on and step into your bedroom, conveniently situated next to your sister’s. Lately, you’ve cursed this proximity, contemplating the idea of seeking refuge downstairs in the guestroom.

The rhythmic creaking of the bed and muted moans persist, making you release a weary sigh, hastily snatching your pillow to shield your ears from the intimate sounds infiltrating the air.

Morning arrives, and you’re weary, having fallen asleep with the pillow cocooned around your head. Your once-neat hair now resembles a bird’s nest, and your body, feeling rigid and sore, yearns for the elusive embrace of a restful night’s sleep.

Fatigue clinging to every step, you drag your weary body to the bathroom, performing the mundane rituals of brushing teeth and washing your face. The mirror mercilessly reflects the under-eye bags, taunting reminders of restless nights. A scoff escapes your lips as you splash water on your face, a futile attempt to shake off the lingering exhaustion and rouse yourself from the morning haze.

When you finally emerge from the bathroom, Jungkook steps out of your sister’s room, wearing a sheepish yet gentle smile. Weariness etched on your features, you respond with a weary nod, acknowledging his presence.

Apology etched in his expression, he inquires, “Did we disturb your sleep?” 

Concern lines his face, yet beneath the surface, a subtle smirk plays on his lips as his eyes sweep over your tired form.

“It’s fine,” you sigh, the weight of exhaustion evident in your voice, though deep down, you acknowledge that ’fine’ is a distant echo from the truth. 

“We’ll keep it down,” he assures, a warm smile gracing his features as he absentmindedly scratches his head. A soft chuckle escapes you, an acknowledgment of the genuine sweetness and kindness that radiate from him.

“Jungkook, really, you don’t have to worry. I’ll grab some earplugs or whatever,” you laugh, the sound devoid of true joy. Despite your attempts at humor, each forced smile or chuckle only serves as a reminder of the hollowness and sorrow settling in your chest.

Jungkook gives you a reluctant nod, a silent acknowledgment of your weariness and the deflated emotions you carry. With a heavy heart, you retreat into your room to get dressed, the weight of the morning and the unresolved thoughts lingering in the air.

As you descend and enter the kitchen, the comforting aroma of Ha-rin’s nearly finished breakfast fills the air. Offering a hand, you assist her in setting up the table in the cozy dining room. The rarity of having everyone gather for a meal is not lost on you; usually, you’re consumed by solitary, hurried bites as the demands of the ranch beckon. However, today unfolds differently, marked by an unusual slowness in the rhythm of ranch life.

“You look tired,” she observes with a gentle concern in her voice as the two of you collaborate in setting the table. A soft chuckle escapes you, a mixture of acknowledgment and self-deprecating humor. It’s as if they’ve pointed out the obvious—yes, you’re aware you don’t look your best, but must they bring attention to it?

“Thanks. Jungkook and Jessi kept me up again,” you respond with a weariness that seeps into both your voice and posture, a tiredness underscored by a stifled yawn.

As you turn your head, Jungkook and Jessi stand in the doorframe, wearing apologetic expressions that mirror the remorse evident in their eyes.

“We’re sorry,” your sister offers a sincere smile as she pulls out a chair, settling down. Jungkook follows suit, immediately diving into the meal with an eagerness that hints at his hunger.

“It’s fine,” you brush off their apologies with weary eyes and a nonchalant wave. “At least you’re getting some,” you jest, but an awkward hush descends upon the room. The atmosphere turns dense, and their uncertain expressions reveal they’re unsure how to react. “Don’t mind me; I’m just... frustrated. Not at you, though!” you quickly reassure them, taking a seat and joining in the meal.

For a few minutes, an uncomfortable silence descends, wrapping around the room like an unwelcome guest. It’s the kind of awkward stillness that feels stifling and peculiar, and you find yourself yearning for someone to break it, to utter anything to shatter the tension lingering in the air.

“We actually have something to tell you,” your sister begins, and as you meet her eyes, you notice a sparkle of excitement, maybe even love, dancing in them. Her happiness is contagious; a radiant smile graces her lips, and a delicate pink hue adorns her cheeks, complementing her beautifully. It’s a sight that warms your heart, pulling a genuine smile from you in return.

Jungkook gently moves his hand over Jessi’s, giving it a tender squeeze, and his eyes gleam with a radiant light, an unmistakable shimmer of affection, you presume. Their laughter dances in the air, and their shared smiles are like a silent declaration of the love that binds them.

“We’ve been meaning to share something with you,” your sister begins, her voice laced with a mix of excitement and apprehension. “Jungkook and I are dating,” she announces, and you can’t help but feel your smile broaden. You observe the subtle exchange of glances between them, a blend of happiness and nervousness, as if unsure of how you’ll react to this newfound chapter in their relationship.

Your eyes glisten with unshed tears, and you can’t help but beam, your emotions laid bare. “That makes me so happy to hear!” A single tear escapes, and you playfully scold yourself, but deep down, you’re overwhelmed with joy for your sister and Jungkook.

Your sister’s concern deepens as she leans in, her eyes reflecting worry. “Are you okay with this? You seem a bit sad…”

With tear-streaked cheeks, you point to your clearly emotional face, chuckling through the joyful tears. “This? I’m just thrilled for you. I just... wish I had that too. But I’m genuinely happy for you.” Sniffling, you manage a smile, though your plate is nearly obscured by your overwhelming emotions.

Jungkook, your sister, and Ha-rin exchange concerned glances, but wisely refrain from prying further. You believe they’ve caught on; your weeks of moping and the emotional rollercoaster have left little room for secrets. It’s ridiculous, you scold yourself internally, navigating the intricate maze of your own emotions. The irony of grieving a relationship that never truly existed weighs heavy on your chest, and you can’t help but feel a pang of sorrow for what could have been.

Genuine happiness radiates within you for their newfound relationship, and you don’t perceive it as strange. Sure, there was a fleeting encounter with Jungkook, as Jessi pointed out, but it was just that—a passing moment. You never harbored romantic feelings for him; your joy stems from seeing them genuinely happy together. Yet, an undeniable pang echoes in your heart, a yearning for that elusive connection you witness in them, to have that special someone— and that someone is Jimin.

Caught in the whirlwind of conflicting emotions, you grapple with the uncertainty of your feelings for Jimin. Every attempt to navigate this emotional maze has hit a dead end – avoiding him, attempting conversations that fall on deaf ears, and even embracing silence only to be met with his intense gaze. 

The enigma that is Jimin remains beyond your comprehension. Your desire for him lingers, leaving you in a perplexing predicament with no clear path forward.

“Relax your shoulders,” Yoongi’s voice cuts through the rhythmic sounds of hooves against the earth, offering guidance as a fiery-red mare gracefully circles you in the pen. Perched atop the fence, Yoongi, accompanied by Hoseok, shares his insights. Lately, with the challenging task of taming wild horses, Hoseok has become an invaluable ally, contributing his skill and energy to the shared pursuit.

His involvement extends beyond mere assistance; he actively contributes to the preparations, occasionally joining your rides and, on other occasions, simply sharing moments as you engage in the day’s tasks. Today, he observes with keen interest, his presence an unspoken support in the rhythm of your work.

You attempt to find your focus, and you let your shoulders sag, reminding yourself of the importance of a calm and clear mind in handling the unpredictable nature of the horses. Despite your efforts, stress and frustration linger, making the task more challenging. Today seems particularly difficult. Your gaze repeatedly drifts toward Yoongi and Hoseok, seated closely. The air between them carries a subtle tension, Yoongi fidgeting with his shirt, an uncharacteristic unease marking his demeanor. It’s funny how being around someone you like can change the way you behave.

You let out a soft chuckle, finding Yoongi’s crush on Hoseok endearing. The uncertainty of whether Hoseok reciprocates, or even what his preferences are— if he’s into men, women or both. You have no clue, but you genuinely hope that Hoseok shares Yoongi’s feelings; knowing that Yoongi could use a guy like Hoseok in his life.

The red mare’s whinny echoes through the air as it breaks into a wild gallop, gracefully navigating the pen with powerful bucks. This one, a recent addition, demands more patience than its counterparts. However, you embrace the challenge, recognizing that each horse is unique, and you’re willing to invest the time needed to build trust and understanding.

You let the spirited mare run around the pen, attempting to divert your attention from its antics. Instead, your gaze returns to the two men on the fence. They’re engaged in casual conversation, possibly about work, but the genuine smile on Yoongi’s face has an inexplicable effect on your heart. Hoseok’s eyes light up at every word from Yoongi, and it feels as if your heart could burst into a garden of blossoming flowers. In that moment, you yearn for a connection as beautiful and captivating as the one unfolding before you.

As your gaze drifts, it travels up to the yard, settling on the house that holds the thoughts of the man who occupies your every waking moment—Jimin. The silence between you two persists, leaving you in a state of anticipation. Every now and then, you catch glimpses of him with Deiji, their laughter echoing through the air. Despite the small flower in your chest withering at the sight, you remind yourself it’s okay, even though anger still lingers.

“Watch out!” Hoseok shouts, leaping down from the fence with Yoongi in tow. Before you can react, you find yourself sprawled on the ground with a thud. A frustrated groan escapes your lips as you rub your back, rolling over to your side.

You spot Yoongi approaching the red mare, hands raised in the air, skillfully redirecting its attention away from you. Meanwhile, Hoseok is already down on his knees beside you. As your eyes flutter open, a wave of confusion washes over you.

Concern fills Hoseok’s voice as he asks, “Are you okay?” 

Your gaze meets his, lingering confusion evident. Meanwhile, Yoongi persists in his attempt to soothe the red mare, now employing a gentler approach, his words whispered in a hushed tone.

Your eyes lock with Hoseok’s as you ask, “What happened?” 

His outstretched hand becomes your anchor, pulling you up into a sitting position, your fingers instinctively rubbing your sore back again.

His words hit you, “The horse ran you over,” accompanied by a subtle chuckle. Yet, his eyes reveal a deeper concern as he carefully scans you, ensuring that you’re genuinely okay.

You glance around in confusion at the sandy expanse of the pen. 

“It did?” you inquire, perplexed, your gaze shifting down to the ground where you find yourself. You must have blacked out or something. You assess your body, feeling a general lack of pain, at least not as much as you expected.

“I think I’m fine,” you assure Hoseok, allowing him to help you up as you stand. You dust off the sand from your pants and shirt, trying to regain a sense of composure.

Yoongi, having calmed the mare, walks over to you. “Are you sure you’re fine?” he asks, raising a brow as he looks you up and down. You chuckle, dismissing any concern with a wave of your hand. There’s no need for a fuss over a simple fall.

“I’m fine. I was just pushed. No biggie!” you declare, gesturing with your hands to reassure them that everything is under control.

“Maybe we should take a look at you at the house?” Hoseok suggests, and you instantly flinch, a wave of apprehension washing over you.

“Oh god no. I’m fine, and I really don’t want to go in there,” you state firmly, a pressed smile on your face. The last thing you need is to see Jimin with Deiji again; better to stay clear of them, as you’ve been doing recently. Both Yoongi and Hoseok laugh, and you notice the way they look at each other, as if there’s something you’ve missed. For a split second, you feel left out before joining in the laughter yourself.

You ask Yoongi to finish working on the red mare while you and Hoseok take a seat on top of the fence. From there, you observe him letting the horse run about, much like you did earlier. Yoongi always appears so relaxed when he’s working. His ability to keep his mind sealed off and clear during tasks is incredible. Unfortunately, the same can’t be said for you or Hoseok. The dynamic between the three of you is unique, each with your own way of approaching the work at hand.

The happy-go-lucky man next to you appears captivated by watching Yoongi work; his eyes shine as bright as the sun. The way he holds his breath, as if the air is too thick with something, sparks a glimmer of hope within you. Perhaps it’s because he might harbor feelings for Yoongi.

You meticulously apply eyeliner and mascara, ensuring you look flawless. Returning to your room, your eyes fall upon the elegant purple satin gown laid out on your bed. The floor-length attire boasts a sweetheart neckline, perfectly complemented by a pair of carefully chosen low heels that you gracefully slip into.

Before stepping out, you steal a moment to gaze at your reflection in the mirror, and what stares back at you is nothing short of captivating.

As you step outside your door, you encounter your sister, adorned in a floor-length gown of deep blue that borders on the verge of velvety blackness.

“Wow, you look stunning,” you compliment your sister, and she responds with a soft smile, her fingers nervously dancing with the edges of her purse.

“Thanks, you look incredible too,” she smiles warmly, and together you descend the stairs to join the other girls.

Ara, Soo-ah, and Ha-rin await you downstairs, adorned in stunning gowns for the night’s gala in town. The charity event, featuring an auction, aims to raise funds for the local hospital’s children’s ward. Ara stuns in a radiant red dress, Soo-ah elegantly dons baby blue, prompting you to ponder if it’s her favorite color, and Ha-rin exudes sophistication in a black gown. The quartet, a vision of beauty, gathers in the kitchen, the air buzzing with excitement for the glamorous night ahead.

“Ready for an enchanting evening, everyone?” you inquire, casting a smile across the group, your eyes dancing with anticipation.

“Yeah!” Soo-ah cheers with infectious joy, and without a second thought, you all rush to the door, hitch up your dresses, and dash into the yard, the relentless rain already kissing your gowns with its playful touch.

You hastily hop into the car, and Jessi swiftly ignites the engine, reversing out of the yard. The rain’s symphony dances on the windshield, while the sun gracefully sets, painting the sky in captivating shades of gold and pink.

Jessi navigates the road with precision, and the group settles into a comfortable ease. Casual conversations and light-hearted jokes fill the air, yet your mind strays elsewhere, tethered to thoughts of Jimin. Anticipating his presence at the gala, you resolve to keep a careful distance, aware that the crowd might offer a shield for the avoidance you seek.

Navigating the rain-drenched roads adds extra time to your journey into town, but finally, you pull up in front of City Hall. The building itself seems to have donned its best attire for the occasion, adorned with banners and a vibrant red carpet that unfurls invitingly through the grand entrance.

As Jessi skillfully parks the car, you hastily step out, seeking refuge under the overhang of the building to escape the relentless rain. A quick scan of the parking lot reveals the presence of Jimin and Jungkook’s trucks, instantly causing a pang in your chest. The prospect of encountering Jimin tonight tightens your heart, and you brace yourself for the emotional storm that might follow.

“Ugh I fucking hate the rain,” Soo-ah groans beside you, her disdain for the downpour resonating with your own sentiments. Your chuckle, a small escape from the damp reality, lingers in the misty air.

Ensuring everyone is prepared, you lead the way into the grand hall. The opulence hits you instantly – a symphony of golds and reds creating a lavish spectacle. The vast space is adorned with small, round tables draped in rich red cloth, each topped with flickering candles. Towards the front, a podium commands attention, surrounded by carefully curated art pieces. Among them, proudly displayed, are a couple of your own paintings, awaiting their moment in tonight’s charitable auction.

Approaching the guys, you’re met with a sight to behold—Jungkook impeccably clad in a black tux adorned with subtle stripes, while Yoongi and Hoseok exude charm in their tuxedos, each strand of hair meticulously styled. Embracing them warmly, your attention shifts to Jimin, not far off, accompanied by his stunning girlfriend. The duo radiates elegance, and you can’t help but curse Jimin silently for his undeniable allure— his ass looks so good in those pants. His tux drapes his frame flawlessly, accentuating every curve, and you catch yourself practically drooling before quickly averting your eyes.

Spotting his gaze directed your way, you respond with a silent nod. Despite your desire to keep your distance, you choose the path of politeness, offering this small acknowledgment in the crowded elegance of the gala.

The room swells with a mix of familiar faces and strangers. Across the expanse, you catch sight of Namjoon and Seokjin at a neighboring table. With a warm smile, you extend a friendly wave in their direction.

As the auction commences, you navigate through the crowd toward a table, silently grateful for opting for low heels to spare your feet. A glass of champagne in hand, you join Yoongi, Hoseok, Soo-ah, and Ara at a table. Meanwhile, Ha-rin has engaged in a lively conversation with Namjoon and Seokjin across the room, their friendship evident even from a distance.

Jessi and Jungkook are stationed at a table alongside Jimin and Deiji, and a scoff escapes you when your gaze lands on Jimin. The silence between you two remains, a lack of surprise settling in as a familiar companion at this point.

He appears incredibly alluring, like a full-course meal, and something stirs within your veins—a concoction of anger and jealousy, perhaps. The desire to speak to him, to feel his touch, clashes with the urge to tear him apart. Later, the thought of dancing with him lingers, but the awkwardness stemming from his radio silence and the undeniable truth that he isn’t yours keeps you at a wary distance.

The auctioneer’s voice becomes a distant murmur, his words lost in the whirl of paintings and various items on the stand. Your attention, however, is not tethered to the auction; instead, it’s ensnared by the intensity in Jimin’s gaze. The way his eyes lock onto yours mirrors a familiarity, reminiscent of the look he gave you weeks ago during Jessi’s cast celebration dinner. The unspoken depth in his eyes unsettles you, inducing a subtle sweat, nervous energy, and an involuntary gulp.

With no refuge in sight, you attempt to anchor yourself in the rhythm of your heartbeat, a desperate bid to quell the storm of emotions swirling within you.

Indeed— sin personified gazes your way, but what does it matter? His silence, his refusal to engage, grates on your last nerves. You know you’re at an auction right now, and it would be weird to talk at this event, but dammit, he could just come over and ask you for a talk, pull you off to another room. Anything, really. 

A sly smile graces your lips as Yoongi playfully nudges your shoulder, and you, in turn, lean into the comfort of his presence. A subtle shift in Jimin’s gaze doesn’t go unnoticed, the intensity of his eyes deepening as the unspoken tension weaves through the air.

Hoseok playfully nudges you as your vibrant red painting graces the auction stage. Surprisingly, an elegant elderly lady becomes enamored with it, bidding generously and claiming it as her own. Gratitude swells within you, knowing that the proceeds will contribute to a worthy cause.

Jimin’s unwavering gaze continues to linger on you, an irritation bubbling within. You question why he can’t redirect his attention to his girlfriend or, at the very least, the ongoing auction.

The auction unfolds in the background, but your focus remains unyielding to the bidding, stolen by the persistent gaze of the blonde man. His intense gaze feels like he’s stripping you down with his eyes. Yet you remain nonchalant, indifferent to his silent advances.

During a brief respite, as delectable appetizers circulate the room, you discreetly savor the miniature delights, determinedly diverting your attention from Jimin as per your original strategy.

Abruptly, you interject into the group’s conversation, “Is there something on my face?” Their perplexed gazes pivot towards you, uncertain of the sudden inquiry.

As you munch on a bite of food, you nonchalantly toss in, “Jimin keeps giving me these intense stares, and I just don’t get it.”

Yoongi and Hoseok share a knowing chuckle, their eyes reflecting a camaraderie that Soo-ah and Ara immediately catch onto, shooting you looks of playful understanding.

“No, there’s nothing on your face,” Soo-ah says with a teasing smile, her words dripping with a playful undertone.

“Maybe you should talk to him?” Ara suggests, her voice carrying a gentle note of encouragement, like a flicker of a candle in the dim room of uncertainty.

“He doesn’t want to talk, and I hardly think this is the place for it…” you say, the words hanging in the air like a fleeting sigh, drowned out by the buzz of conversations around you as you take a thoughtful sip of your champagne.

You redirect your attention to the auctioneer, a black vase taking center stage this time. As the bidding unfolds, you indulge in another sip of champagne, feeling the effervescent bubbles dance teasingly across your tongue, a subtle distraction from the tension in the room.

As the final gavel falls, signaling the end of the auction, a wave of relief washes over you. The speakers come alive with soulful melodies, casting a warm ambiance over the room. To your surprise, the atmosphere becomes infectious, and you observe couples from other tables swaying to the rhythmic tunes. A chuckle escapes you, realizing you’ve never been one to dance at such formal events. Nevertheless, the music’s allure beckons, and you find yourself succumbing to the rhythm, ready to embrace the unexpected joy of the night.

Yoongi seizes your hands, whisking you onto the dance floor in a whirl of laughter and joy. The dance is a delightful blend of fun and friendship, his every move resonating with an infectious rhythm. As you twirl under the dazzling lights, you catch Hoseok’s gaze fixed on Yoongi. Leaning in, you share a whispered observation, “Hoseok’s eyes are practically glued to you, you know?”

His laughter reverberates through the air, a melody that resonates with a warmth you find comforting. “I know,” he chuckles, the sound a harmonious note in the symphony of the evening.

As he smirks, a playful glint in his eyes, you can’t help but reciprocate with a grateful smile. He twirls you around, a dance of understanding, letting you sway out of his embrace only to draw you back in. Oh, the dance you share with him is a temporary refuge, a wishful escape from the reality you yearn to change. However, your joy falters as you catch Jimin’s gaze; his eyes, far from angelic, hold a mysterious intensity that pierces through the rhythm of the music.

With a chuckle, Yoongi leans in, “Jimin’s got his eyes on you too.”

“I’ve felt his eyes on me since we walked through that door,” you admit with a sigh, your gaze wandering over the dance floor where your sister twirls with Jungkook, and Ha-rin gracefully dances with Seokjin.

“You should consider talking to him,” he suggests again, but you dismiss the idea with a subtle shake of your head.

“I doubt it would make any difference, honestly,” you laugh, pressing your body into Yoongi’s. His warmth envelops you, and for a brief moment, in his embrace, everything feels like it might just be okay.

Taking a step back from Yoongi, you express the need for a break. As you make your way back to the table to sip on more champagne, you observe Yoongi inviting Hoseok to dance, a proposal met with a willing agreement. Soo-ah joins you at the table, casting a gentle gaze in your direction.

“You danced with Hoseok?” You inquire, your gaze softened with curiosity.

“I did,” she admits with a smile. “He’s a really nice guy.” You nod, acknowledging her words. However, you can’t shake the understanding that someone in your circle might end up with a bruised heart, considering both Yoongi and Soo-ah have affections for Hoseok.

As you watch Hoseok and Yoongi gracefully moving on the dance floor, impressed by Hoseok’s skilled control over his body, a genuine smile plays on your lips. However, that fleeting moment of joy is interrupted as you sense the weight of brown eyes piercing into your back. Turning around, you find Jimin dancing intimately with Deiji, the intensity of his gaze making your smile fade.

You observe Jimin and Deiji dancing cheek to cheek, their bodies pressed tightly together, making you scoff and redirect your attention to Soo-ah. Just as you try to shake off the unsettling sight, a tap on your shoulder interrupts your thoughts. You turn around to find Hoseok, his bright smile inviting, “Do you want to dance?”

You seize his hand, allowing him to whisk you onto the dance floor, reminiscent of how Yoongi did earlier. Hoseok effortlessly twirls you around, evoking laughter that bubbles up from deep within. Knowing you’re not the most adept dancer, you surrender to his guidance, and he proves to be exceptionally skilled at leading you through the dance.

Amid the enjoyment, a surge of audacity overcomes you, prompting an uncharacteristic move. “What do you think about Yoongi?” The words spill out unexpectedly, catching Hoseok off guard, a reaction vividly displayed on his face. A chuckle escapes you as you revel in the spontaneity of the moment.

“What do you mean?” he asks, catching off guard. 

Unable to contain your mischievous grin, you lean in and tease, “You know he likes you, right?” As the words escape your lips, you’re conscious of the trust you might be breaking but convinced that mingling is the key to any potential connection. Hoseok, though initially shocked, isn’t repulsed as you feared. Instead, his eyes widen, and a subtle pink tint adorns his cheeks, leaving you wondering how he’ll respond.

“He does?” Hoseok stammers, caught off guard and missing a beat. Your chuckle only intensifies as you nod in confirmation. The revelation lingers in the air, and you sense that you might not have to do much more to set things in motion.

As you continue to dance, a comfortable silence envelops you both before Hoseok breaks it, his words hanging in the air, “You know Jimin likes you too.”

You roll your eyes, well aware of the situation. “Yeah, not much to do about it when he has a girlfriend,” you admit with a wry smile. Despite Hoseok’s good intentions, you’ve firmly decided not to act on your feelings while Jimin is still in a relationship. It’s a line you won’t cross.

You dance a little longer until Yoongi is at your side again, grabbing your arm and pulling you into his embrace. He wears a curious smile as he asks, “What were you talking about with Hoseok?”

You chuckle softly, “I told him.”

He glances at you, a puzzled expression on his face, “Told him what?”

“That you’ve got a crush on him,” you declare, matter-of-factly, in a hushed tone meant just for the two of you. However, with the rain tapping on the roof and the music playing, it’s a challenge to catch every word.

Yoongi’s expression doesn’t exactly radiate joy, but there’s a subtle softness to his features, an almost-relaxed demeanor. He releases a frustrated sigh, raking a hand through his hair in apparent exasperation.

“I’m sorry. I know it isn’t my place to say anything. But he actually seemed intrigued!” You share, your words riding the rhythm of the music as you sway with Yoongi. His tension eases, and he responds with a soft expression, a subtle acknowledgment of the revelation.

“It’s okay,” he breathes out, “it wasn’t your place, but it’s fine.” 

You lean into him, embracing him gently and offering a reassuring pat on the back. In that moment, you catch Jimin’s gaze fixed on you once again. The repetitive stares leave you puzzled. Why is he focused on you instead of his girlfriend?

You feel your heart quicken, your nostrils flare, and your hands clench around Yoongi’s back. He pulls you away, confusion etched on his face, questioning what’s wrong. But you see red. It’s reached a boiling point. The anger simmers inside you, consuming every inch of your being, and with determination, you let go of Yoongi and stride purposefully over to Jimin and Deiji.

Standing before them, you take a deep inhale, a turbulent storm of emotions brewing beneath your skin. “Why the hell are you staring at me like that?” Your voice slices through the ambient sounds, a piercing question that fractures the comfortable cocoon around Jimin and Deiji. Jimin slowly turns to face you, his expression shifting from surprise to a somber acknowledgment, as if he’s been caught in the act of something he’d rather keep hidden.

“Shouldn’t your eyes be on your girlfriend, huh? Why the fuck do you keep gazing at me? Look at your damn girlfriend!” you hiss, your hands tightly clenched at your sides, radiating with anger.

“And while you’re at it, why the fuck can’t you talk to me like a normal human being?” you raise your voice, the anger boiling so fiercely within you that you feel breathless as you unleash your words.

“You’re a damn coward, aren’t you? You shouldn’t be casting your eyes my way when you have a girlfriend right there!” You jab your finger accusingly at her, and she flinches, uncertain about how to react. Jimin simply gazes at you, as though you’ve lost your marbles—and maybe you have, because the words keep pouring out.

“You fucking jerk. If you had the decency to communicate, to use your damn voice instead of making baseless assumptions, we wouldn’t be in this ridiculous situation!” You huff, the waves of anger radiating from your body. The sudden realization hits you that the entire room is now fixated on the spectacle, and an eerie silence envelops the space, punctuated only by the intensity of your heated words.

Yoongi steps up beside you, a silent force attempting to ground you, but you refuse to yield. The torrent of anger surges within you, and with an accusatory finger, you unleash your fury on Jimin.

“I fucking hate you! You’re stupid. I hate you. I fucking hate you. I love you. I fucking hate you. I hate you so fucking much!” Your words, laden with venom, spill from your lips in a torrent of conflicting emotions. You seethe, feeling strangely lighter, though the room spins around you. Yoongi releases your arm, his face a mix of shock, and confusion mirrors the peculiar glances from those around you, leaving you wondering why everyone is now looking at you even more strangely than before.

“You fucking bastard. Stop looking at me like that,” you hiss at Jimin, catching him off guard. Deiji wears a displeased expression, and Jimin’s features soften in a way that leaves you utterly bewildered. 

Deiji appears visibly irritated, and you’re left wondering if her frustration is directed at you or if she shares your exasperation for Jimin. As the tension simmers, Jimin unexpectedly breaks into laughter, his audacity fueling the fire of your anger. The laughter grates on your nerves, aggravating you further. Why on earth is he finding amusement in this situation? There’s nothing remotely funny about it, intensifying the blaze of your already fiery emotions.

You jab your accusatory finger at him once more, your voice cutting through the tension, “Stop laughing. This isn’t funny!”

Your voice may carry the tone of an angered child denied its desires, but you couldn’t care less. In this moment, you’re finally confronting Jimin, even if the conversation seems to be one-sided.

You observe as he parts his lips, ready to utter words that you don’t wish to hear.

“I don’t want to hear it! You know what? I’m done!” You hiss in frustration, ready to pivot away from the awkward situation, aware of the collective gaze of all the guests upon you. As you start to turn, Jimin’s firm grip on your wrist stops you, compelling you to face him again.

“You can stick your dick where the sun doesn’t shine!” You shriek, wrenching your arm free, and storming out of the building. The erratic thumping of your heart resonates like a dissonant ringing in your ears, mirroring the chaos within.

Gasping frantically for air, your breath catching in turbulent spasms, you step outside, feeling as if your body is unraveling at the seams. Collapsing on the stairs, you surrender to the tremors of anger pulsating through you. Attempting to regain composure, you strive to slow your breath, but the task proves as challenging as holding back a tempest.

Regret floods your senses, a torrent of remorse for every word unleashed in the heat of anger, half of them lost to the haze of fury. The weight of all eyes fixed upon you, their gaze searing into your soul, amplifies the desire for the ground to open up and engulf you whole. 

What transpired in that room, and how did it all spiral into such chaos?

A symphony of hooves shatters the tranquility of your peaceful slumber, jerking you awake. Rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you hurry to the window to witness the commotion outside. In the distance, a captivating spectacle unfolds — a wild herd of horses, led by the majestic brown stallion, thundering across the landscape. These creatures have become frequent visitors, drawing nearer to the ranch with each passing day. Curiosity grips you; what secrets do these untamed spirits carry, and why do they venture closer to your haven?

With a contented sigh, you wearily make your way back to your bed, sinking into its welcoming embrace. A spontaneous yawn escapes, accompanied by a luxurious stretch that sends waves of relaxation through your well-rested body. The simple joy of a peaceful night’s sleep settles over you, like a comforting blanket enveloping your weary soul.

Entering the bathroom, you brace yourself for the day ahead. Under the rejuvenating spray of a quick shower, you allow the cascading water to serve as a cleansing force, washing away not only yesterday’s mistakes but also the lingering regret that clings to your every thought. The steam clouds your reflection, a metaphorical veil between the past and the potential for a better today.

The bracing cold water jolts you into wakefulness, a refreshing prelude to the day ahead. As rivulets of water cascade down, you ensure every trace of sleep is banished, emerging invigorated and ready for the rigors of another day on the ranch. Donning a weathered shirt, worn-in pants, and your trusty boots, you complete the ensemble with the signature hat that shields your face from the sun’s relentless gaze. Descending the stairs, you find Ara in the kitchen, skillfully crafting a sandwich for her morning appetite.

“Hey there!” you chirp, a grin lighting up your face, buoyed by the rare joy of a restful night’s sleep. A subtle acknowledgment forms in your mind—thankful for your sister and Jungkook opting for a night at his place, granting you the serenity that fueled the upbeat mood.

“Hey, how are you feeling?” Ara inquires, her attention focused on putting away the butter, as if carefully choosing the moment to meet your eyes.

“Actually, leave it out. I could use one too,” you interject, and Ara obligingly retrieves the butter, finally meeting your gaze. “As for how I’m doing—just fine.”

She hands you the butter and a knife, a wry smile playing on her lips, “Some party, huh?”

She chuckles, and you roll your eyes. The weight of her laughter only intensifies your embarrassment, a vivid reminder of the scene you created at the gala. You find yourself wishing for the ground to open up and spare you from the aftermath of your emotional outburst. Why did you have to make such a spectacle?

Damn you and your relentless emotions. Now the whole world, or at least everyone at the gala, knows the depth of your disdain for Jimin, you assume. You bury your face in your hands, releasing a frustrated grunt. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to create such a spectacle.”

Ara’s laughter rings out, much to your dismay, intensifying the furrow in your brow. You don’t see the humor; you’ve practically made a fool of yourself in front of everyone.

“Well, we all had a blast,” she laughs, a beautiful smile playing on her lips, “I’m sure Jimin is having a good laugh about it too.”

You roll your eyes once more, highly skeptical. After all, you called him so many terrible names, didn’t allow him a word in, and basically told him to stick it in his ass.

Wonderful. Great. Peachy. Words that utterly fail to capture the chaotic storm of emotions swirling within you at this very moment. The vivid memories of your passionate outburst yesterday haunt you, casting a shadow over any semblance of composure. There’s a lingering wish to escape the possibility of encountering Jimin and his girlfriend again, but deep down, you acknowledge that luck doesn’t favor you so generously.

You hastily slather butter onto your bread, devouring it in its pure simplicity. The imminent need to depart gnaws at you; the day awaits, beckoning you to gallop over to the Bell ranch, where the untamed spirits of the wild horses entwine with the shared endeavors of you and Yoongi.

“I have to go,” you declare, snatching the bread in your mouth, and dash outdoors toward the barn. The sun, now radiantly shining, bestows a sense of hope upon your day, propelling you forward with anticipation.

As you saddle up Marshmallow and guide him outdoors, a faint sound begins to patter on the roof—a soft, rhythmic reminder of the rain.

Out in the open, the rain embraces you in seconds, a relentless downpour that draws a scoff. Undeterred, you plant your foot in the stirrup and swing the other leg over, urging Marshmallow into a full gallop. The rain pelts your face, but you ride on, indifferent to the weather’s challenge.

As you ride, thoughts of Jimin’s expression at the gala linger in your mind. Despite his initial composure, his face betrayed offense and anger, as if restraining the urge to shout back. He stood there, his girlfriend by his side, absorbing every word you hurled at him. Regret tugs at you, but the words are irreversible, a turbulent exchange you can’t undo, even if you wished otherwise.

A yearning lingers within you, hoping that Jimin would have retorted, engaged in a verbal sparring, or at least defended himself. However, his silence echoes louder than any words, leaving you to ponder the significance of his unspoken response.

You sense that words were poised on the tip of Jimin’s tongue, ready to spill out, but a conscious decision to shield yourself from his potential revelations compelled you to shut down any communication before it began.

The peculiar weather paints a contradictory scene: raindrops cascade, yet the sun defiantly radiates its warmth, creating a surreal ambiance. In the midst of this meteorological paradox, a double rainbow graces the distant horizon. The sight, both enchanting and whimsical, elicits a genuine smile, urging you to spur Marshmallow into an even faster gallop. Each rhythmic beat of his hooves seems to synchronize with the cadence of your heart, a determined attempt to outride the persistent thoughts of Jimin that linger in your mind.

As the ranch emerges on the horizon, a welcoming sight after the turbulent events, you guide Marshmallow down to the pen where Yoongi and Hoseok eagerly await your arrival. Skillfully securing Marshmallow to the fence, you exchange greetings with the two men, the atmosphere pregnant with anticipation for the day’s tasks on the ranch.

Hoseok’s laughter greets you even before you utter a single word, prompting an eye roll from you in response.

As Yoongi dedicates himself to the fiery-red mare once more, you find your way to the fence, settling in next to Hoseok with a sense of camaraderie.

“Nice gala, huh?” Hoseok teases, raising his eyebrows in a way that suggests he’s well aware of the evening’s drama. You respond with a loud groan, wondering why people find the need to rub your failures in your face.

“Shit. I regret how I behaved. It’s so embarrassing,” you confess, closing your eyes as if wishing to erase yesterday from existence.

“I understand. But it was fun to watch,” he laughs heartily, his entire being pulsating with mirth.

You shift your gaze downward to Yoongi in the pen, “Have you noticed the herd of wild horses getting closer?”

Yoongi nods knowingly, “Yeah.”

You observe the mare’s lively movements before turning your attention back to Yoongi, “What do you think it means?”

Yoongi looks up from the mare, his expression serious, “Nothing good.”

Author’s note(2): Thank you so much for reading! 🌸 I would very much appreciate it if you reblogged the chapter, if you liked it ✨ A small review or a comment would also mean a lot to me, and even a like. But please, don’t be afraid to let me know what you think; your kind words makes me extremely happy 💜

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[reidslovely]

If Your Love is in Trouble (Part One)

"If you're asking yourself, "How do you know?" Then that's your answer" Lana Del Rey, Margaret

Playlist here.

Authors Note: Yes, I am starting another series. Maybe I'll actually finish this one. This was born after playing Spider-Man 2, and I have no explanation for it, I just really wanted an excuse to write this. I know many people aren't into love triangles and that's cool. I still hope you guys read and enjoy because it will predominantly be Peter/Reader.

Pairing: Peter Parker x Fem!Reader x Harry Osborn

Content Warning: Slight mentions of suicidal ideation, couple swear words, pretty tame for the most part right now. Few mentions of a old hair color reader had.

Please reblog, and throw a comment in if you'd like!

“I can’t believe he’s really gone.” Peter muttered as he sat crisscrossed on the pillows scattered on his bedroom floor turning his best friend's game boy over in his hands. (Y/N) frowned at her friend, her cheeks stained red and swollen from crying, the insides of her cheeks sore from being bitten. 

“I know..it’s not fair.”

 She rested her head on Peter’s shoulder, her arms wrapping around his torso. 

“Norman is fucking evil.” Peter mumbled out, a glance at his open door making sure May didn’t hear the swear fall from his lips. “..and a terrible father, he never deserved to have Harry. But that didn’t mean he had to ship him off. He could have lived here, May and Ben would have taken him in. That’s like their whole thing!” 

(Y/N) listened, she knew the hurt Peter was feeling, but she also knew he knew how Harry was feeling. The three of them had been inseparable since they were six, did everything together and went everywhere. But now Harry has gone to some fancy boarding school in the English countryside, not knowing when they’d ever see him again. 

“We still have each other.” 

Peter laughed sadly, his hand engulfing hers a childlike smile on his face the blue color on his braces catching her eye. “Yeah. And I’m not letting you go anywhere.” Peter wrapped his arm around her neck, pulling her down ruffling her hair. (Y/N) screamed out, thrashing around laughing, trying to fight Peter off. 

“Okay you two, okay. Dinner is ready c’mon.” Ben says from Peter’s doorway looking at the middle schoolers. Peter let go of the girl, holding his hand out for her to take helping her up. Ben stood back as the two bursted out of the door, racing one another down the stairs into the warmth of the kitchen. The smell of May’s cooking filling the homey kitchen, a news anchor talking excitedly on the small TV on the counter. 

…

Though the kitchen hadn’t changed in those seven years it was no longer warm, it no longer felt like a second home. The same new anchor talked on the TV, his voice no longer excited but now aged and filled with professionalism. (Y/N) looked around the once familiar area, now feeling like a vampire who’d crossed the threshold uninvited. But she had been invited, May stood in front of her two mismatching coffee cups in hand. 

“Take off your coat for a while.” 

She coaxed, motioning at the spring jacket on her shoulders. (Y/N) smiled at May’s motherly nature, she hadn’t changed a bit since the last time she’d seen her. Her head had a few more grays on it, and she was wearing her reading glasses more but other than physical she was the same old May. 

“I’m so glad I caught you walking, I was gonna call and have these sent to you but..I’ve been wanting to see you anyways.” 

“I know May, I’ve missed you. Sorry, I just..I've been..so busy.” 

May squinted her eyes, her crows feet becoming prominent. It was never an easy task to lie to May, she saw through everything. 

“I bet.” But, she always let the lie continue. May sat at the bar stool, the small photo book in hand as she opened it. (Y/N) settled next to her drinking out of the homemade Spider-Man cup, looking at the first set of photos. Three kids smiled in front of a carousel of horses, two boys and a girl standing in the middle. (Y/N) smiled, her mind flashing to the blonde boy in the photo, thinking about the last time they’d talk. Her eyes followed their muscle memory and looked at the scrawny brunette boy in the photo, his head resting on hers as he held up a peace sign. 

“Ben and I basically had to drag you three out of that park when that silly little carousel popped up. It was your favorite part.”

“We used to spend hours there. I used to steal money out of my dad’s wallet to get us rides for the whole week.” 

May laughed, nodding her head. (Y/N) smiled at the memory of her thumb rubbing over the slightly aged photo, it felt like her heart shook with grief for what they once were. 

“Now this..this is my favorite.” 

May held up a photo of two ghosts. 

One clad in an awkward fitting sports coat and slacks, the other in a deep blue dress and poorly dyed red hair. In Peter’s scratchy handwriting ‘Junior year winter formal’ was written on the back. (Y/N) swallowed harshly, but smiled at the image. 

“You two looked so cute. Your red hair really was something.”

“Mhm, I forgot the last time you saw me I was still a redhead!” (Y/N) hummed softly, sliding the photo back into its slot in the photo album. May hummed, putting her hand against her cheek. 

“When was the last time?” 

“It was ..I dunno, senior year we just got on christmas break, I had come by because I hadn’t heard from Peter in a couple weeks and I was worried. He’d gone upstate with Gwen’s family, and you gave me that knitted scarf and beanie set.” 

“Oh that’s right!” May smiled, grabbing onto (Y/N)’s forearm. “Have you two talked at all?”

(Y/N) laughed awkwardly, her hand coming up to push her hair out of her face. She shook her head rapidly. “No, I'm pretty much on the outskirts of his life now. I think we both go out of the way to avoid one another.” 

May shook her head, her nephew's behavior never failing to amaze her. “Whatever happened, have you two tried to fix it?”

“I dunno May, we just…grew apart. He had Gwen, photography and science club…and his other extra activities.” (Y/N) shrugged her shoulders, her hand patting May’s that rested on her forearm. “We grew up I guess.” 

May looked at her and it felt like she saw right through her, saw her heart and how Peter had smashed it into a million pieces. (Y/N) pulled her arm gently from May grabbing the coffee cup and taking a long sip. “Oh my god! Is this you and Ben?” It was a quick and easy subject change that May would allow. 

The front door opened and May turned her head. “Peter, why don’t you come into the kitchen? I have something I want to show you. I finally pulled those photos down from the attic!” 

(Y/N) looked around the kitchen like an animal being caged in, she looked for a quick escape but she could never move that quietly. So she settled with tucking her face away behind May’s figure and maybe if she willed enough she’d turn invisible. 

Peter's footsteps turned into a quick jog throughout the house. “May why would you..I told you I’d..” Suddenly all sound stopped. Time felt like it’d stopped with it. 

Peter had grown a couple inches since the last time they’d seen one another, she thought he’d looked taller in his birthday post on instagram but maybe she’d just started forgetting what he looked like. He’d finally cut his hair, and started dressing in more fitting clothes. He had become a full adult in the time they’d been apart, it felt like just yesterday they were eighteen year olds hanging out at the skatepark.  

“Hey.” He spoke softly, shock in his voice. 

“I caught her walking home- thought she’d like a trip down memory lane.” 

“Hey Pete.” (Y/N) spoke finally, her eyes following him as he walked to the fridge grabbing out the creamer and making his own cup of coffee. May had opened her mouth to speak before being cut off by the house phone. May grabbed (Y/N)’s shoulder as she stood. 

“I’ll be right back.” 

Silence, that was once comfortable and knowing, filled the room awkwardly. (Y/N)’s eyes locked to Peter’s back watching his movements. 

“Happy belated birthday.” 

Peter turned to look at her after the words left his mouth. She could laugh, at least he remembered one thing. 

“Yeah, yeah you too. We’re twenty, pretty odd huh?’

“Yeah..I feel like I’ve lived six times that.” 

(Y/N) nodded awkwardly, dropping her eyes from him and looking at the winter formal photo in her hands. Her phone vibrating from the counter, both of their eyes immediately looking at it. 

‘Harry - Hey, sorry we got cut short last night’

‘Harry - I’m actually grabbing a flight right now, I should be there tomorrow afternoon.’

She clicked the power button flipping it over. “How’s huh Gwen?” 

Peter nodded and leaned on the counter, his finger tapping a couple of the scattered photos. “Uh..well. Good, I think. We..broke up.” He spoke quickly, rolling his hand in a circle motion as he spoke. He looked up at her, for what felt like the first time in forever. She nodded, a frown on her lips. 

“I’m..really sorry to hear that Pete. I thought for sure you guys would..be together forever.” 

“Yeah me too..” He slumped his shoulders and shook his head. “Sometimes things just don’t work out.” 

“Tell me about it.” She laughs, it came out more bitter than she intended. Peter nodded, his lips pulling down at the notion. Maybe he knew he owed her a slew of apologies, maybe he was oblivious. She’d rather he be the latter. Clearing her throat she slipped out of the bar stool, grabbing her jacket off the back of the chair. 

“I should go. I have an assignment due at six I should get started on.” 

“Oh yeah, yeah.” Peter sniffled, his thumb rubbing against his nose. He pressed his fists into the countertop, his fingers popping as he did so. “Let me walk you home.” He offered up, rushing to get his coat from the living room. (Y/N) panicked, her mind moving at a million miles a second. Her brain refuses to process any type of response other than a small yes that she doesn’t even think he heard.

Taking the couple seconds alone she had she messaged Harry back: ‘So excited to see you! Miss your face :)’ 

“Ready?” Peter asked, he returned with a denim jacket on his shoulders, hands shoved into his pockets. (Y/N) pocketed her phone nodding at him, Peter reached around her holding the back door open for her as they stepped out into the slight chill of the spring weather. The two rounded the side of the house heading down the block. Peter fell into his previous routine, he always took the side of the sidewalk closest to the road, keeping (Y/N) on his inside. She smiled at him, dropping her gaze to her feet.

“I’ve been a terrible friend.” 

It wasn’t what she expected to fill the silence. Her mouth fell open, before closing again quickly trying to think of a response. 

“I like..totally left you hanging and I just..I’m really sorry that was so fucked up. There was just.” Peters fumbling through his words, it’s not an apology, but she’ll take it. 

“Hey Pete, it’s all good. We were kids, and hey what can you do it happened. I played a part in it too. We had a lot going on.” 

“You were always trying to excuse my bad behavior, I was a bad friend. I can admit that now, I should have admitted that two years ago.” 

(Y/N) shakes her head, a laugh falling out of her lips, her hand coming up to wave it off. 

“We were hormonal teenagers Peter, and that got in the way. I’m not mad, I missed you a lot. But maybe it was what we needed to grow.”

“I know but I should have said something. I left you on a fucking rooftop, I..” 

“I love you Peter, and I just need to know if you love me.” She screamed over the flow of the traffic below them. Sirens sounding off in the background felt like she was being laughed at by everyone. Peter’s face was numb, filled with shock as he held his mask in one hand, his bruised eyes searching her face. “I’m so confused. I don’t know what to think.”

“I don’t..I don’t know. I dunno, either.” 

He shook his head, the sound of the city around him felt like an icepick being stabbed into the back of skull. (Y/N) took a step back, wind blowing against her face whipping the dyed red hair around across her face. She turned and looked over the edge, before looking at him. Jumping from the 20th something floor felt like a better option than hearing whatever Peter had to say. 

“I just..is there a chance or is this all for..nothing? Am I holding out for nothing?” 

The sirens got louder, and Peter looked between the red head and the flashing sirens below them. 

“I’m sorry, we can talk later!” Peter swore as he slid the mask on his face, in a flash he’d thrown

himself over the side of the building a flash of red swinging off into the sky. 

The memory crawled into the forefront of her mind and for once it didn’t make her want to claw herself out of her skin. Peter’s hand had creeped out of his jacket pocket and into hers, his hand interlocking with hers. (Y/N)’s lips pulled down in a bittersweet smile, her thumb rubbing across his. For a moment she’s convinced herself nothing changed, for a moment she’s in school sneaking kisses with Peter in the darkroom of the photography club. Waiting for him by his locker ready to trade lunches for the day with silly notes written on the inside. 

“It hasn’t changed a bit.”

 Peter laughed as they reached the front stoop of her home, his hand still in hers. It was comforting, both having a sneaking feeling of home that they hadn’t felt in almost two years. However, the moment died quickly. Peter let go of her hand, stepping in front of her slightly as he looked around. (Y/N) furrowed her brow as she opened her mouth to talk, the scrapping of a chair drew her attention to the corner of the porch, a figure standing up. 

“Mhm that’s what I said. I gotta say though I don’t remember the glass in the window being pink”

The deep voice drew the friend's head towards the sound, (Y/N)’s jaw dropping as she grabbed a tense Peter’s shoulder. 

“Harry!”

They both yelled. The sandy blond started down the steps, (Y/N) took off meeting him half way engulfing him in a hug. Peter stood back in shock, looking at his lost friend as if a ghost had just crawled out of its grave in front of him. A small vibration of alert hanging in the back of his skull as the two embrace.

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