#make a tumblr after procrastinating and being confused and nervous about it for so long..!

[salarymanwaka]

happy new year everyone..!!! ( ^ 0^)/ i was planning to post something a little more impressive, but instead all i found in the house was this pair of strange little rabbits. after reading the mysterious inscriptions on their backs, it seems that the red one promotes good health and helps people to achieve their goals, while the white one bestows wealth and absorbs your bad luck. i hope together they will bless you with a wonderful year ahead!

[koushou]

i love it smmmm omg. the megumi fix is amazing it’s more than i asked for ❤️❤️ bro 6,9k is a blessing you don’t understand how glad it made me it’s so worth the wait. tumblr is so dry when it comes to anime fics and especially w megumi thank you for feeding me something other than the crumbs this website gives me. i don’t want to be too annoying but whenever you’re free if you could do a pt 2 cause that ending omg. i love it sm and i can’t thank you enough ❤️

pairing : megumi x f!reader [fluff]

warnings : slight makeout scene idk HAHA nothing too intense though (also not proofread because i wanted to get this posted as soon as i finished it)

wc : 3.5k

a/n : ur too sweet omg and im FINALLY back from procrastinating your request again anon… (i really apologize i don’t mean to take so long pls forgive me D: ) i hope this is what you wanted!!

pt. 1 (you don’t really have to read pt 1 to understand this part but i do recommend it)

loud chatter echoes through the large modern dining hall located on the second floor of the hotel.

“i’m… so full…” a certain pink haired male burps for the nth time as he still continues to stuff food into his mouth. gojo laughs at itadori’s passion for the hotel food, while doing the same as he takes a large bite of a pancake.

you chuckle, taking a sip of your drink and leaning back in your cushioned chair, already finished with your 3rd plate of breakfast. i mean, who could blame you? hotel breakfast food just hits a different type of way.

“so, spill all the juicy events that happened last night, i wanna know!” nobara nudges you excitedly, her eyes twinkling as she pulls her chair closer to yours.

rolling your eyes, you look away from the ginger female and pretend to not have heard her. accidentally, you were now faced towards megumi, sitting on the opposite side of you. your eyes met for a brief moment before you quickly turned away, breaking the awkward interaction.

“aww— c’mon, y/n! please—“

“nothing happened at all! and don’t think i forgot the way you ignored my knocks on your door yesterday,” you shot her a glare, earning a sheepish laugh in return.

“but... in the same bed..?”

you were about to retort back when gojo stands up and claps his hand over his stomach, which now seemed just… a few sizes bigger.

“alright! have we all finished our food? god, when did hotel food get so good— anyway, it’s time to pack our things and head back home!” your constantly enthusiastic teacher exclaims, as a waiter comes to collect your plates.

after thanking the waiter and paying the bill (poor gojo-sensei’s wallet), you all head back upstairs to drive back home.

a thick silence hangs over your room as you and megumi collect your items, not wanting to bring up any events from last night. finally ready to head out, you walk towards the door to open it until another hand reaches the handle at the same time.

you retract your hand quickly, while the other hand lingers in the air above the knob.

“oh— sorry, you can go first!” you gulp, backing up a bit so megumi can exit first.

he pauses for a second, twisting the knob until the door pulls open. you expected him to walk out, but he makes his way to the other side of you instead, still holding the door open.

you look over at him with a questioning look, receiving a slight shrug and a hint of a smirk.

“ladies first.”

why was his stupid face so handsome?

you shook your head at his teasing expression, making your way out the door to the carpeted hallway, him following close behind.

the others were already at the lobby waiting, their conversation becoming clearer as you reach them.

“what’s taking them both so long? you don’t think they’re too busy… y’know…” nobara’s usual cheerful voice carries her words to your ears, making you roll your eyes and spook her from being.

“boo.”

“i’m just sayin- oh my go—“ she frantically turns around, breathing a sigh of relief upon seeing it was just you.

“you scared me!”

“what were we talking about?”

“nothing important! come on, we should get going!” nobara nudges gojo and itadori ahead, escaping you as she scurries out of the lobby.

you hear a yawn from behind you, a tuft of black hair moving past you as you suppress the urge to laugh at megumi’s already messy hairstyle, amplified by his morning bed hair.

finally, you were all seated back in gojo’s car, ready to drive back to the school so you all can head back to your own homes.

the ride back was full of gojo’s irritating voice singing along to songs playing from the car radio, itadori laughing along, and the rest of you too excited to leave the car.

“alright kids! we’re here, make sure to be safe on the way back home!”

gojo waves to all of you as you hop out of his car one by one, basking in the cool summer air for a few seconds.

“see you guys!”

itadori jogs away, heading in the direction of his own home, followed by megumi, then nobara, and lastly, you.

upon reaching your house, your mother welcomes you, asking about your day, if you had fun, and other typical mother questions.

you were telling her about your day when you suddenly recalled the hotel night events, and scurried away embarrassed upstairs to your room, leaving a very confused mom behind.

you flop down onto the bed, face down, wanting to get a good few minutes of quiet nap time in before your phone dings with a notification.

grunting, you pull your phone out from your pocket, swiping across the screen to check the message.

surprisingly, it was from megumi, eyebrows suspiciously raising as you open the text message from him. you two rarely texted unless it was about school or business-related, so you couldn’t think of anything he would need from you right now.

megumi : Hey.

megumi : I have your hair tie with me. You probably left it in my bag or something.

megumi : I’m coming over in 5 minutes.

you sat up abruptly, rereading his messages to make sure your eyes weren’t playing tricks on you.

you had been so caught up with his prior messages that you failed to register that he said he was going to be at your house in… 5 minutes.

hurriedly, you swiped to see what time he had sent that last message. 12:34 AM.

your eyes moved to the top of your phone screen, reading the current time. 12:37 AM.

almost falling out of bed scrambling to your room mirror, you checked your appearance to make sure you looked fine and your hair wasn’t messy and-

you paused.

“why am i so concerned about how i look? why do i care about this?”

you slapped your face with both hands, bringing yourself back to reality when you were interrupted again, but this time by your doorbell ringing from downstairs.

making your way out of your room, you saw that your mom had already opened the door with a familiar tall figure standing in the doorway.

“oh! megumi, it’s been a while!” your mom lets megumi in with a smile, already going to the kitchen to make him some tea.

he bows politely, sitting down on the couch, now changed into a loose white t-shirt with black shorts.

“uh- theres no need to make me tea, i won’t be here for too long—“

“nonsense! you can even stay for lunch, dear megumi! i just have to prepare the last dish and—“

you finally clear your throat, standing at the middle of the stairs, catching both of their attention.

“oh, y/n! i have to go out to the grocery store for some ingredients, take care of our guest megumi, alright?” she places two cups of tea on the table in front of megumi, grabbing her keys to head out.

“wait, mom—“

she sends you a wink by the door, already outside before you can finish your sentence.

you sigh in defeat, sitting across from megumi on the other couch.

“here.”

megumi pulls out a black hair tie from his pocket, almost identical to the one currently around your wrist.

you raise your eyebrows in suspicion at the hair tie. “but i only have one? and i didn’t bring any extra yesterday..?” you motion to your own arm.

he looks back and forth between your wrist and the one he had in his hand, scratching his head in confusion.

“it was in our hotel room, so i assumed it was yours.” he shrugs, placing it on the table. “but if it isn’t, i can just throw it away.”

you hum, taking a sip of the tea your mom prepared as he does the same, cringing as the still hot tea burns his tongue.

“pfft…”

he glares at you, placing the cup down as his eyes scan around your living room, taking in the decorations.

“i’ll just keep it then, it seems new.” you take the forgotten hair tie on the table, and wear it around your wrist, now decorated with two black hair ties.

he nods, sitting back against the couch, silence falling between you both.

a question suddenly popped up in your mind, your mouth moving faster than your brain.

“you came all the way here… just to give me a hair tie?”

the question seems to set him a little nervous, clearing his throat and avoiding eye contact as he fidgets in his seat.

“well— i figured i’d return it to you before i forgot,” he shrugs, reaching out to take another sip of his tea before pulling back quickly again at the heat.

you nod slowly, still unconvinced with his answer. who goes all the way to someone’s house to return a hair tie?

“okay then, see you on monday?” you get up, ready to send him back off.

his head snaps up, still not moving in his seat as he opens his mouth slowly, as if unsure of how to respond.

“um- i thought your mom said i could stay…for lunch…?”

he averts his eyes, pink dusting his pale cheeks as he looks away. your mouth forms into an ‘o’ shape as you recall your mom’s words and those were - in fact what she had said.

it wasn’t that you were against him staying for lunch, but you two weren’t even friends or remotely close at that. rivals would even suit you both better than friends.

“but if you want i can, uh, leave now,” he starts to stand, looking uncomfortable in his position across from you.

it was then that you remembered megumi’s background, that his mother had left early at birth, plus his father wasn’t exactly present.

you couldn’t imagine living without your parents, and how lonely he must be without true family.

“no! i mean, that’s not what i meant, you can stay.” you sputter out before he gets the wrong idea.

his eyes seem to light up at your words, nodding before sitting back down on his previous spot on the couch.

you glance over at the time on your phone, it had been around 7 minutes after your mom had left.

the tension was thick in the room, and just when you thought you were about to explode from the awkwardness, he finally breaks the silence.

“do you… play that?”

you turn to where his eyes are placed on, seeing your black xbox console laying on top of a cabinet, having been untouched for a while.

“oh that? yeah, occasionally, why?”

you hear a snicker from beside you, snapping your head to find his lips curled into a teasing grin.

“oh, i just didn’t think a nerd like you would play games.”

you raise your eyebrows at his words. “you sure about that? it doesn’t seem like you’re very good at games either, megumi.” you make sure to stretch out each three syllables of his name to tease him further.

he huffs while leaning back, still maintaining intense eye contact with you, almost challenging each other to say something back.

“how about this, whoever wins against the other gets to make them do whatever they want. no matter what it is.” he nods over to the console, tilting his head as he waits for your response.

you chuckle, standing up to take the console, fiddling with it for a moment before turning back to him.

“alright, just don’t cry when you lose too much, okay?”

he shrugs, smirking as he looks around the living room for the other console, making you remember something.

“oh, the other console plus a TV is in my room, wanna just play there?”

he stiffens suddenly, before nodding slowly and following you upstairs to your room.

reaching the door, you suddenly stop, making megumi grunt and come to a stop, almost crashing into you.

“uh - wait here.”

you open the door just enough to slip inside, quickly gathering some of your belongings and cleaning as much as you could, to at least make your room seem presentable.

“okay!” you open the door for megumi, who makes no move to enter at first.

“...”

“you can come in.”

“... is this okay?”

you cock your head, not understanding his question.

“your mom isn’t home.”

“...so?”

“we’re alone.”

“and?”

“i’m… going into your room.”

“what is your point?” you began to grow frustrated at this conversation. then, it hit you all of a sudden.

“ahh, megumi? have you never been in a girl’s room alone before?” you snicker, shaking your head from laughter.

he starts to protest, before quickly closing his mouth and finally entering your room.

you connect the two consoles into your TV in your room, sitting down on the edge of your bed as you load up the games on the screen.

“you can sit here if you want,” you pat the empty spot next to you, to which he carefully sits down on, taking one console from your hand.

“ready?”

he nods, as you start the game.

-- --

“what--?!”

you throw your hands up in frustration, groaning as you flop backwards on the bed.

“i told you, you can’t beat me.” megumi chuckles, dodging a stuffed bear you threw in his direction.

you huffed, sitting back up, determined to beat him at least once.

“one last rematch!”

he lets out a laugh, a rare one that you think you might just never forget, and starts the game again.

after a few minutes of intense clicking, yelling and laughing, you let out a proud shout, the word victory flashing across your screen.

you pick up another stuffed animal from your bed and toss it straight at megumi’s face, celebrating as he lets out an ‘oof’ and glare back at you.

“but i still won around, 7 times, so i get to make you do something- oof-” he stumbles back again from another stuffed animal to the face.

“hmm? i don’t know what you’re talking about--” you pretend to not have heard him before your vision goes momentarily black from a soft object hitting your face, a pink bear landing in your lap.

“hey!”

“what, you keep throwing them at me!”

“fine…”

“hey, why are you getting so close--!”

you tackle megumi backwards onto the bed, throwing your pillows at his face -- not very gently -- as he tries to shield his arms in vain.

“ahh—! okay, okay, i’m sorry, stop it—“ he huffs as you finally stops your attack, his dark blue orbs looking up into yours.

you only now noticed your close proximity, quickly sitting back up to create some distance between the both of you. he clears his throat, fiddling with one of your pillows.

“well, a loss is a loss, what do i have to do?” you sigh, admitting your defeat.

“hmm…” he seems to be lost in deep thought, probably trying to find the worst thing he can make you do.

after a few silent, intense seconds, he finally speaks.

“are you… free tomorrow?”

you turn to him, giving him a questioning look at his strange question. he only stares back at you in response, awaiting your answer.

“um… yeah, i’m free the whole day, why do you as-“

“come watch a movie with me tomorrow.” he blurts out quickly, not even letting you finish your sentence.

you gape at him, still processing his words, unsure if you had heard wrong.

“... sorry?”

his face was reddenning by the second, yet his eyes remained firmly on yours the whole time.

“let’s go watch the new movie in the theater. i heard it’s quite popular already despite releasing only last week.”

“oh… okay, i can ask nobara if she wants to com-“

“don’t!” he says a little too loudly, clearing his throat after as he regains his composure.

“i mean, i- just, you.”

“just.. us?”

he nods.

silence fell again between the two of you, unsure if he was asking you what you thought he was asking you. you decide to test the waters cautiously.

“man.. it’s almost like you’re asking me out on a date, megumi?” you tease lightly, expecting a ‘tch’ or an, ‘as if’.

“so what if i am?”

now that was an answer you weren’t expecting.

“you’re.. joking, right?”

megumi sighs, moving closer until his body was mere centimeters away from yours.

“i’m serious.”

“do you... like me or something?”

he stares at you blankly. “would i ask you on a date if i didn’t have feelings for you, idiot?”

you only just realize how stupid your question sounded, trying to find a response until he reaches up to cup your cheek with one hand.

they felt soft, yet slightly gruff from constant training and fighting, large enough to cover one half of your face. they were warm, slightly trembling probably from nervousness, yet made you wish he’d never take it off.

“it’s okay if you don’t want to. we can forget this ever happened.” his own cheeks turning slightly pink, yours probably even worse as the space between your faces closed in slowly.

“but i don't think i can do this anymore, so just let me be a little selfish this once, okay?”

barely registering his words before he moves in to kiss you, soft lips moving against the other as his hand tightens against the side of your cheek. you barely register your own actions anymore, hands reaching up to tangle themselves in his hair, moving down to his neck, and finally finding home cupped around his face.

he groans against your lips, pressing you down until he was now hovering above you, never breaking the kiss even once in the process. you lost track of how long you both had been making out in your bed before you hear the front door open from downstairs.

frantically, the both of you separated in fear of your mom catching you in the act, catching your breaths while still processing what just happened.

you hear shuffling from downstairs, standing up to escape megumi before you were pulled back into a warm chest.

“wait—“ his arms wrap around you to trap you from leaving his grasp, your eyes looking everywhere but his, and suddenly your wall was the most interesting thing in sight.

“are we… really going to pretend that didn’t happen?” you finally gather the courage to look him in the face, almost melting at the soft pout set on his (now slightly redder than before) lips.

“ilikeyoutoo.” you get out quickly before you lose the chance to say it again.

he stiffens against you, eyes lighting up almost like an excited puppy receiving treats. “you like me? i didn’t hear you, so can you say it again?”

you huff, trying to wriggle your way out of his arms, only resulting in him pulling you closer to sit on his lap. he presses his forehead to yours, chuckling at your futile attempt to escape.

“i said— i like you—!” you ram your head into his, making him groan in pain, loosening his hold on you. the perfect chance for escape.

you saw the opportunity, dashing to the door, twisting the knob, almost getting it open until—

“nope,” megumi’s hand stops the door in time, instead twisting you around until your back was now flat against the wood, both of his palms placed beside your head.

“y/n? megumi?” your mom’s voice calls from downstairs, but all you could hear was your heartbeat thumping loudly in your chest.

“megumi! move, my mom’s home,” you place your hands on his chest, trying to push him away to no avail.

he grabs your pushing hand and places it on the left side of his chest, letting you feel the soft but fast thumping of his heart, almost matching the pace of your own.

“this is all your fault. you’re not gonna take responsibility for it?” he inches closer to your burning face, making you huff and grab his face.

you press your lips to his, feeling him immediately return the kiss, but you pull away after a few seconds, leaving him still trying to kiss you again.

“nope, my mom’s home, and i’m hungry.”

you open the door, seeing your mom begin to set the table with plates of food downstairs. you look back at megumi, who still looked sad after getting his kiss cut short.

sighing, you take his hand in yours, intertwining your fingers together before pulling him down the stairs.

“come on, it’s time for lunch. you’ll get more later.”

you feel him perk up, giving your hand a squeeze as he follows close behind.

you steal a glance at your wrist, still wearing both the hair ties. good thing he hadn’t noticed you stuffing one into his bag this morning.

[winged-sky-otaku100]

Sorry I just need to-

Agshdncjnfjf-

MSM 2017 oc times?? If that's alright with this tiny fandom-

Please click and/or press on it for better quality!

First of all hewo - it's @weirdotaku1000 / @winged-sky100

I tried making an art acc but that didn't work out too well so ig it's this one.

Second of all-

Hewo to the small msm 2017 fandom, I revamped an MCU oc for this cause why the heck not- :D

Am I a little nervous about posting this? Yes-

Am I gonna post this anyways? Also yes-

Without further ado, meet Nyx, my beloved [which is also partially part of an au thing too]:

NO NO NO NO NO WAIT I NEED TO EXPLAIN SOMETHING FIRST HOLD ON HOLD ON HOLD ON HOLD ON-

Because I am dumb and I know more about Greek Mythology rather than Norse Mythology, Nyx is - kinda like a reincarnation/ "Next Nyx" of the Greek Goddess Nyx- but like - her power stuff is also super nerfed + she needs to learn how to use them so y e ah- stuff happened when she was a baby and more will be explained later bc I don't want this to be too long but she ended up on Asgard + was adopted by Odin because I'm unoriginal and this is, again, a revamp on my old MCU OC so y e e-

NOW it's time for the info dump:

She lives with Tony Stark due to the request of Thor - Thor trusts him enough to take care of Nyx.

Instead of Frigga dying because of the Elves when she was 12 in the MCU, Frigga's death was more recent, along with Loki's fake death [but bc this is a different universe Loki is good and he didn't attack Earth bc I said so, and also bc I haven't heard of Loki being bad on Earth-17628 yet]

Nyx's fear response is freeze bc that's what happened when Frigga was killed, she was hiding and she saw it happen.

She can control the fear freeze she instinctively does but only up to a certain point.

She hates questions about what happened with her staying on Asgard.

She does answer questions about Loki and Thor though bc she has some tea on the both of them- 👁🍵👁

She gets into Horizon High right after the Stark Expo - she was there and she met Peter, Miles, Anya, Gwen, Flash and Harry that way. Stark was also at the Stark Expo to check out some schools to see which one would be good for Nyx to go to bc she grew a liking to robotics when she was recovering from everything at Stark's place.

Nyx is very curious about everything and pretty quiet/nervous around new people.

When she gets excited about something she will ramble about it.

She is allergic to most make-up. She asked Gwen to do hers for a dance once and when she got there it was itchy and it felt weird so she asked both her and Anya to help her get it off - she had red blotches on her face so never again for rn-

She is Asexual Demi-Panromantic - she found that out while hanging out at that one smoothie place with Harry and Pete one day.

After she gets used to everyone/friends with the main group she gives a lot of hugs-

She's still trying to find out more about her powers n stuff bc she's the Greek Goddess/next personification of the night in Greek Mythology.

Apparently in Greek Mythology she has prophetic powers so I'm just reducing it to a Heimdall sight + spidey sense kind of thingy-

Also I'm nerfing most powers too bc in Greek Mythology Nyx is more powerful than Zeus-

I'm keeping the "Zeus fears Nyx" part though-

She calls Miles, Peter, and Harry her best guy friends, and she calls Anya and Gwen her best girl friends.

She's still new to Earth + she isn't used to the atmosphere so for the first few months [maybe even the first year] being on Earth she gets sick often

She already knew about Peter being Spiderman before he told her. Living with Tony Stark has it's perks

Coffee Coffee Coffee Coffee Coffee Coffee C-

Norman Osborn gives her bad vibes and she doesn't shut up about it at Tony's place whenever he's brought up

"Everyone here is a t r e e-"

Discovered Tumblr memes once- her humor was never the same again

She asks Harry and Peter for help a lot because she trusts them the most with stuff-

Plans to visit Athens one day

Aunt May became a new mother/aunt figure at some point-

And Tony Stark a new father figure

And that's all I'm willing to share rn-

Also also also-

Drawing that picture and trying to sorta copy the shows style was pain-

33 hours and 42 minutes on IbispaintX [breaks and lack of motivation/burn out time not included]. AGSNDNFJFNFJ-

Pain-

But also fun-

But p a i n-

Anyways I hope yall are good with this- agsjdnfh-

I'm gonna try and post more later so things are less confusing for her character. If I remember to, that is- and if I don't procrastinate/get burned out/lose motivation-

Anyways I hope yall are having a good day/night- uvu

• Ray / Sky •

[otpnessmess]

By this sword

Ao3 - Masterlist

Quick thing I made for @mochegato as a way to get rid of writer's block for my jasonette fic. Everyone here is like 17-18 because I obviously don't know what a canon is and will do whatever I please. Based on this post and not beta-d at all. If there are any mistakes I apologize, I wrote and posted this from my phone and the tumblr app is a bitch about formatting. Enjoy!

-

If Marinette heard Damian and Adrien snicker behind her back once again she would make sure to put salt instead of sugar on their cookies the next day.

The Wayne family had been visiting Paris for a business deal and the two youngest sons had been adamant on having spare time to see the superhero duo of the city.

The year before, the miraculous users had requested help from the Justice League to bring down Hawkmoth, and the Gotham vigilantes were the ones sent to help. Having to work as a team brought the four teenagers together, and they had become very good friends by the time the job was done. Now they kept in contact over calls and video chats and were very good friends… Mostly.

Marinette didn't know why, but Tim didn't seem to like her very much. They had been close while working as heroes but once they started hanging out outside of the masks, his entire demeanor changed.

Due to her usual tardiness, Damian and Adrien had got used to Tim being really talkative with them while they waited. He was always perfectly normal until Marinette finally arrived. He then clammed up for seemingly no reason and, even though he still joined the conversation and laughed along with them, there was tension lodged on his shoulders.

This played out for several outings until Adrien had enough. Even if Mari pretended not to notice it, he knew Tim's behavior was hurting and confusing her, and no matter what she did to try and make amends with him, it seemed like it was never enough. She didn't know what she had done to warrant such a dismissive attitude from the guy who was fighting alongside them just some weeks prior.

His protective instincts kicked in even more when she confessed to him that she had started liking Tim, but was being discouraged by his attitude towards her.

The blonde boy managed to convince Damian to talk to his brother, as he was much more likely to coax something out of him. And it proved to be the right choice.

The youngest Wayne called Adrien in the middle of a laughing fit and it took five minutes to get the information out of him. Tim admitted to being like that because he liked Marinette too, he was just unbelievably shy and accidentally got the wrong message across. Damian couldn't believe his brother could be the greatest detective in the world and the dumbest person in the planet at the same time.

After taking the time to make fun of the black-haired pair, they finally agreed that they had to do something to get those two together because, evidently, they would never be able to do it on their own.

The dynamic duo did try their hardest to help them notice each other's feelings, but they failed so many times they almost called off the mission. The only motivation they had to keep going was the fact that the older Wayne didn't entirely shut off around Mari anymore. They had seen him engage in great conversations with her when she had managed to coax him out of his shell for a bit.

Those moments were short-lived, as Tim took a couple minutes to remember who he was talking to, but worth it in the matchmakers' opinion, so they didn't give up. Which brought them to their latest scheme.

Marinette frowning at them with a rapier in hand was a fairly scary sight, but their plan was foolproof. And even if they didn't manage to get the lovebirds together, at least they would get to laugh for a while.

The idea was simple. Step one: invite the brothers to join their fencing class while they're in Paris and make Marinette lose a bet. Step two: get her to face Tim in a duel and say some carefully chosen words to him as a punishment. Step three: profit.

Damian and Adrien wanted to pat themselves in the back for thinking of this, it was a win-win situation. For them, obviously.

Mari didn't see how this would make Tim want to talk to her more but a bet was a bet, and she was no sore loser. She spotted him standing on one of the mats, watching some of her classmates practicing, and took a deep breath before approaching him.

"Congratulations Tim!"

The boy turned around with a startled expression and accidentally bit his cheek when he saw who it was. "H-huh?"

"We're engaged!"

The bright smile in Marinette's face paired with her words made him pale slightly and almost drop his rapier. "Excuse me- what? I… I-"

"In combat. En garde!" Just like the snickering duo had instructed her she drew her sword from her belt and pointed it at Tim.

She then witnessed the color coming back to his cheeks… And not stopping there. He now resembled a very ripe tomato as he mirrored her stance.

"O-oh, right… That kind of engaged… "

He wasn't expecting her to hear his mumble nor pick up the disappointed undertones in his voice, but it seemed like she had.

Her arm lowered slightly when he said that, and a blush had started to creep up her cheeks as well.

"Uh… Yeah. That kind of engaged. W-why? Did you… Want…?"

What?! Why did she ask that??

In the back you could hear the scheming duo laughing their asses off at their awkward display, which only made them get even more red in the face.

In the meantime, Tim had finally processed her question and immediately panicked. "W-what!? N-no! No way!"

His nervous scoffs weren't very convincing but Mari didn't seem to question them, much likely in an attempt to make the situation fly by as quickly as possible.

Tim seemed to be nervous about what he had said, though, and was looking at her with fear in his eyes. Marinette wished to be able to make it go away so badly, and reassuring him was probably the best way to do it, right?

"Oh good, yeah… Um… Me neither, heh."

She gave a nervous laugh and stole a glance at her friend in front of her, expecting him to appear relieved. Instead, he was barely suppressing a tiny grimace, which made her incredibly confused.

Before she could ponder what she had done wrong, however, Adrien had run out of patience in the back.

"Just kiss already!!"

Oh God, Marinette was going to kill him for sure this time. Why would he even say that? He had just outed her crush in front of the guy she liked!

She gathered every last ounce of strength she had in her before turning to meet eyes with Tim. If she was expecting rejection or disgust in his face, the longing in his eyes caught her off guard.

They crossed gazes for a second, then two, then three.

Searching, questioning.

Then they finally found it.

Understanding transformed their expressions, leaving them to gape at each other.

Oh.

Damien and Adrien were hollering and whistling in the background trying to get their attention, but right now they only had eyes for each other.

-

Two months later, Adrien would take the credit for being the one that got them together by screaming at them. It would earn him a smack on the head from Damien, who was not about to allow him to simply disregard his interventions and discredit him. On the seats in front of them, Tim and Marinette would chuckle and share a kiss, both laughing at their idiotic friends.

-

I promise to stop procrastinating and to start working on the next chapter of my fic soon, but I just thought this was such a great prompt! Hope you liked it <3 - Lis

[nystudies]

hi guys! today i’ll be sharing some tips and things about how to be successful in the IB program. this is kinda long but it’s the HONEST truth that not a lot of people would tell you. i got my results back and i did end up getting my diploma! :) IB classes i took: HL english, HL psychology, HL history, SL mandarin, SL ESS, SL math studies, and of course TOK :) hope this helps ya’ll!

1. procrastination

something i struggled with a lot was procrastination. i especially procrastinated the EE and all of my IAs, and i can tell you guys it was NOT the move. i became super stressed because i was saving big assignments for the last minute, and it was horrible for my mental health. doing assignments last minute might work sometimes, but in the IB program it will really effect your grades. what i would recommend is if you get homework just do it the day you get it, and when having longer assignments, work on it bit by bit everyday. i know getting started can be really hard, so what helped me was thinking about my future goals (it really motivates me to work harder). 

2. cas

yes, i am making a section just for cas. did you know you could get perfect scores on your exams but if your cas isn’t complete you don’t get your diploma? i’ve heard stories... DON’T PROCRASTINATE YOUR CAS! spread out your activities and hours throughout BOTH years. what i would recommend for being successful in cas would be to do activities that you actually like. i know a lot of people who would do ANYTHING for cas hours, and while they got their hours, their journals were in-genuine and they struggled at the end when they had to have the final discussion with the ib coordinator. do something you’re proud of! also, anything can count for hours. i put social media as hours! in addition, you can use the things you do for cas for your college applications!!

3. make friends  

now you’re probably wondering, jordan, what do you mean make friends? i have friends... well, what i mean is make friends in your classes. this is something i LEARNED. in year 1, i was kind of a lone wolf, and i realized that whenever i had questions or needed help, i didn’t have anyone to ask. in year two, i made sure to have at least 1 friend in every class and it helped me SO MUCH. they don’t even have to be your friends, just find people you would feel comfortable talking to and asking questions, it will really come in handy, especially in the ibdp. 

4. learn confidence 

again, you’re probably very confused. let me paint you a picture: you will have to do A LOT of public speaking in this program. a lot. whether it’s speeches, presentations, tok presentations, daily speaking in language class... you will have a lot of public speaking. i guess this is kind of a heads up. i know it sucks, but you WILL have a ton of graded public speaking assignments, and i can tell you from personal experience, if you aren’t confident or able to speak in front of others, it will effect your grade. i know this because i was that girl. like literally in mandarin class if i had to do daily speaking in front of all of my classmates i would CRY. literally cry. so i know where you’re coming from. but, what i learned throughout the years is that NOBODY CARES. and i mean that in the best way possible. you just have to remember that you won’t see these people after high school, they really aren’t paying that much attention, and if you mess up, they truly will not care. everyone is stressing over their own assignments. what i learned to do is fake it till you make it. i would appear SUPER confident with whatever i said, and everyone believed i was confident and speaking well, even though i would mess up sometimes. just close your eyes, take a breath, and fake it till you make it :) 

5. final tips / words

make sure your IAs are good, they matter. 

your citations in your EE is literally more important than the actual writing. if you have ONE wrong citation you could literally fail your EE. 

live your life! you will definitely be consumed in your studies, but trust me you also need some fun :)

you’ll become close with your ib cohort because ya’ll are ALL struggling together. you will most likely make new friends :) 

take classes you know you’ll somewhat enjoy. if you’re not a math person don’t take HL math, if you’re not a science person don’t take HL bio... TRUST ME. 

do your EE on something that ACTUALLY interests you because it’ll be easier to work on and it won’t really feel like a weight on your shoulders.

don’t overthink things. i know a ton of people stress a lot about the tok presentation, but trust me you will be okay. i made my presentation the day before i had to present and got a 9. just PRACTICE presenting. it will help so much 

do your tok presentation on something that interests you and something you actually could talk about, it will make your life a lot easier

helpful website: https://www.ibsurvival.com/

i have a tumblr group for ib students where we help each other, ask to join! 

okay, that’s it :) hopefully this helped some people, it was really raw and honest. while the ib program caused major stress and health issues, it was also an experience. it changed me, made me more open minded and really impacted my life. i was able to do things i wouldn’t think i would do because of cas, and i learned more about myself. and honestly, i loved my cohort and felt like i had a small family of people i could relate to. if you’re nervous, don’t worry. it isn’t that bad, and trust me there are positives. GOOD LUCK EVERYONE! if you want further advice on anything IB related you can comment, send something to my ask box, or just private message me! have an amazing day :))) 

- jordan <3

[et-in-cinerem-reverteris]

Class of 1953 - Chapters 4/4.5 - Louder Than Bombs/Rubber Ring

“Phil, I think you are the strangest person that I have ever had the pleasure of meeting.”

“Hey, you’re equally weird,” he teases. 

“I know. That’s why I think you’re so wonderful.”

I’m back with my 1950s historical Oxford university AU fic-cum-novella-thing. Sorry I haven’t been posting the chapters to Tumblr! Here are chapters 4 and 4.5 - soon I will be posting chapter 5 (possibly the last chapter!)

Click me to read on Ao3! 

Or keep reading under the cut...

Chapter 4 - Louder Than Bombs

The passing of time, and all of its sickening crimes, is making Phil nervous again.

Sitting sideways at the top of his bed with his feet swinging off the edge like a bored schoolboy, he idly fumbles with the pages of an open book as he stares into space, waiting. 

Last Sunday he had promised Dan that he could use his room as a space to get homework done. Tonight, the gravity of the situation has only just begun to dawn on him. He imagines the scene with a quickened heartbeat; Dan sitting only a foot away, using his chair, working at his desk and writing with his pens, Dan pacing around his room, scrutinising his photographs, flicking through his records and reading the titles of his books. Phil doesn’t know how to prepare himself. Meeting up in public is one thing, but a private visit to his room feels like quite another.

He laughs out loud at himself. Private visit? Dan’s only coming to study for Christ’s sake. 

Speaking of studying, he has his own work to attend to. Lying on his lap is a copy of Beowulf, deliberately planted there to create the impression of a student deeply engaged in a spot of serious reading. Unfortunately for Phil Beowulf has been unable to capture his imagination, and so instead he has spent the last ten minutes or so staring at the contents of his hastily tidied room. His desk is decluttered, his bed has been made, and all the odd pairs of socks have been picked off the floor and put away in preparation for Dan’s visit. 

All is silent bar the low hum of his desk lamp. It’s a quiet Friday evening, and the normally raucous quad now only echoes sporadic bursts of hushed chatter. Tonight’s sky is peppered with clouds that pass the moon at random intervals, periodically obscuring a strange halo that encircles the bright rock in a mysterious reddish glow. The curtains lie wide open, and a streak of moonlight falls on the pinboard opposite his bed. Littered with cinema tickets, clippings from environmental magazines, ripped out pages and uncashed cheques, the most recent addition to the board is a cluster of pictures he took of the photography club on an impromptu walk by the River Cherwell. The top photograph shows Bill squinting at the sun while Mary gives Beth a precarious looking piggyback ride, both of them smiling as John holds his palms up to the toppling ensemble and posing as tourists do next to the Leaning Tower of Pisa. Phil remembers how the group of them skimmed stones across the muddy water, competing to see who could get the furthest, until Beth had beat Bill’s expert hand with a fluke stone that skipped so far into the distance that none of them could tell where it had landed. He thinks of that day with a smile. Good times.

*rat-tat-tat*

At last! Springing off his mattress he dashes towards the mirror, spruces up his quiff, takes in a deep breath and opens the door.

“Hallo! Ho-”

Phil is interrupted as Dan comes crashing into the room, stumbling past him and lurching towards the desk as a large pile of books, folders and papers fall from his arms and scatter across the surface in a heap. He releases a long sigh, and then turns around to face his host with a sheepish smile.

“Sorry for bursting in here like that. My arms were starting to get cramped under the weight of all these books, and I had to put them down. Anyway, how are you?” 

“I’m fine but err, quick question,” Phil starts. “Why didn’t you just use a bag?” 

Dan’s smile fades and his eyes glaze over, mouth opening and closing as his brows furrow in confusion. “Now that you mention it, I um, don’t know why on earth I didn’t think of that.” He throws his hands into the air. “God knows what’s up with me.” Embarrassed, he turns around and begins to organise the jumbled papers.

“What’s all this you’ve got here then?” Phil asks, flopping down onto the bed and leaning his back against the wall as he watches Dan.

“It’s mostly some notes about Schubert. We have to study the last few decades of his life, so I bought a few books from home with me that I thought I’d be able to flick through. And um,” he picks up a piece of paper, “I’ve also got to work towards a portfolio of compositions, so really I’ve got a mountain of stuff to do.”

“Sounds daunting.”

“Mmmm.” He sits down in the chair next to Phil’s desk, adjusting the angle of the lamp as he kicks off his shoes. “So,” he continues, turning around, “what are you up to then?”

Phil nonchalantly waves his book in the air. “Just Beowulf.” 

Dan scoffs. “Just Beowulf? Come on, Phil! It’s only one of the most important pieces of English literature of all time!” Shaking his head in disbelief, he turns back around. “‘Just Beowulf’... Jesus.”

After a couple of minutes of silence Phil suddenly realises that Dan has started working. As in actually working. In the past they had both joked about being chronic procrastinators, and so Phil had predicted that the night would end up with them talking about books, politics or musicals instead of doing homework. He’s a bit surprised that Dan was serious about wanting to use his room just to study in, and to be truthful, he’s also a little disappointed. 

To make matters worse, as the other boy works away Phil finds himself unable to concentrate on the book in front of him; no matter how hard he tries to focus, all thoughts invariably trace back to his companion. He examines the back of his neck, the collar of his shirt, the knit of his jumper and how it falls on his lanky build. Dan will occasionally sing or hum a tune to himself, scribble something down and then repeat that same harmony with a few added notes, moving the fingers on his right hand as if he were in front of a piano. It’s a peaceful sight, captivatingly peaceful, and his concentration trickles down the drain. To hell with reading anyway. 

His thoughts meander back to a familiar daydream; Dan’s life in Wokingham. Phil’s imagination frequently returns to a scene of Dan sitting in a lavish study, playing the piano as golden sun leaks through an open window, balmy air wafting inside on a sweet summer evening. In tonight’s incarnation Phil envisions himself there sitting on the wooden floor, pondering over verses of romantic poetry, reading aloud a particularly pleasant stanza to Dan who would glance up from the piano and give him one of those warm, glowing smiles where his dimples make him look utterly angeli-

It’s a silly dream really, very silly indeed, and Phil feels ashamed for ever having dreamt it. With a glum sense of self-restraint, he turns back to his homework and tries extra-hard to concentrate on it. 

An hour or so passes in the little room on staircase nine, and after a while Phil finds himself lulled into the lethargic contentment that only rewards avid readers, and to his amazement he realises that Anglo-Saxon poetry about Danish kings and mythical beasts isn’t as tedious as he had previously dreaded. 

Satisfied with his progress, he bookmarks his page and closes the book with a thump. Dan’s neck twitches at the sound, and, as if abruptly reminded of the existence of the outside world, he drops his pen, massages his hands, and stretches his long, slender arms out into the air behind him. 

“Right, I’m throwing in the towel or else I shall die of a Schu-verload,” he exhales, leaning backwards and cracking his spine on the back of the chair.

“Schu...verload?” 

Dan swivels around to give him a dry scowl. “Schubert-overload, you fool.”

“Oh!” Phil exclaims, and the pair of them erupt into laughter. “Sorry, my brain has just been fried by one-thousand year old poetry. I’m feeling a bit,” he yawns, “a bit sleepy.”

Getting up from his chair and stretching some more, Dan paces over to the window and peers out of it before unhinging the lock and propping it open. Cold air sails through the room, ruffling his curls as he stares out into the dark night.

“Nice view you’ve got from up here.”

“Thanks,” Phil quips, fully aware of the fact that his room faces into a fairly dull courtyard.

“I’m serious. I think it’s grand that you’ve got a view of the chapel. It’s terribly romantic.” He steps away from the window, attention turning to a nearby shelf which houses a small record collection that appears to spark his enthusiasm. “You’ve got some superb albums here. Handel, Tchaikovsky, Chopin…” He looks over to where Phil has propped himself up against his headboard. “I respect those choices.” 

“Thanks, although I mainly put them on for background noise. I’m not a major classical geek or anything.”

The other boy guffaws. “Like me?”

“No, not like you,” Phil tuts, and his pretend frown turns into another yawn.

“Busy day?” Dan grins.

“Busy day, busy week, busy month. Hectic month, in fact.”

Nodding in solidarity Dan sits down at the bottom of Phil’s bed and reclines with his back against the wall, closing his eyes with a faint smile still on his face. As the pair of them sit in silence Phil's own eyelids get heavier, and budding in his chest is a drowsy desire to snuggle up into a cosy cocoon and burrow into the bedcovers, falling deeper and deeper into the comfort of his soft, warm sheets...

When he awakes, Dan is staring straight at him.

“Hmmm, what? Did I fall asleep?”

“Quite possibly. God, I know I’m about to.” Dan’s eyelids flicker downwards as his smile fades. He looks exhausted, really exhausted, and Phil feels like there’s something he should do about it.

“Hey.” 

Dan’s shoots up. Phil shuffles across his narrow bed and moves closer to the wall, patting the small space next to him in invitation. The other boy’s eyes widen for a moment before he melts into a soft, sleepy smile, then gets up slowly and gingerly sits on the bed, lies down next to Phil, then shuffles around so that he’s facing...facing him...and then closes his eyes as if it’s nothing.

Phil blinks in confusion. His more logical side knows that sleeping on the same bed as a friend is something that people do without batting an eyelid, but next to Dan it feels different - symbolic, even. Regardless, or perhaps because of that feeling, he shuffles round to face the other man and observes his sleeping face, his pale skin, his dark freckles, his thick brown eyebrows and long brown eyelashes. 

Suddenly, the eyelashes open.

“Phil?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For letting me use your room to study in, you doofus,” he teases, words coming out slightly sluggish.

“Mmmm, that’s alright. It’s the least I can do considering how you spoiled me last Saturday. I think I should be the one thanking you.”

Dan shifts slightly, and Phil feels their shins are now pressed up against each other. His soul sings. If he were more awake his heart might be racing in an exhilarated panic, but in his tired state all he can do is feel strangely happy. Happy...and cold.

“Why on earth is it so freezing in here?” he asks, confused and a little dazed, and as he props himself up on his elbow he sees that the window has been left open. “Da-an!”

“What?” he whines through the pillow.

“You didn’t close the window!”

“Close it then.”

Phil groans, flopping back down onto the bed. “I can’t be bothered!”

“Well in that case we’ll just have to huddle together like penguins then,” and with his eyes still closed Dan moves across the bed until their faces are centimetres apart. Now Phil’s heart starts to quicken.

“I can’t, it’s too much.”

Dan’s eyes fly open as Phil gets up from the bed and walks over to the window. Worried that he’s made a deadly mistake he buries his head into the pillow and waits for Phil to order him out of his room, out into the cold, out into the darkness for a long, lonely walk back to his own miserable dormitory.

The window clunks shut, and then the bed becomes a lot heavier. Dan removes his face from the pillow to see Phil gazing down at him.

“I thought…I thought you were about to abandon me.”

“What? Abandon you? Where would I go?” He chuckles. “I was cold, that’s all. I wouldn’t leave you here like that.” 

Dan beams up at him with flushed cheeks. “You still cold?”

A smirk lets itself out. “Maybe.”

Dan unfurls his right arm across the width of the bed and lifts his left arm into the air. Phil slowly begins to panic. A hug? Is he pulling him in for a hug? A hug with Dan and his arms wrapped around him holding him lying there together on his bed a-

Okay. 

Enough.

Phil looks back at Dan. His stare is dark and strong, profound and meaningful, and it makes him feel safe. He takes the plunge and lowers himself down. Dan pulls him into a hug, arms wrapping around his back and drawing him close to his chest. Phil can hear the low thump of Dan’s heartbeat and smell the warm, musky scent that lingers on his jumper. He places his arms on Dan’s ribcage, fingers fiddling with the cable knit patterns. The pair adjust themselves slightly, moving shoulders, moving heads, moving their legs and intertwining them together, drifting off to the wide, sleepy sea in a boat built for two.

Chapter 4.5 - Rubber Ring

Phil had been asleep.

Phil had been asleep, until somebody had knocked on his door. 

Phil had been planning on going back to sleep, until through the still of night he had heard a familiar voice whispering his name.

Shaking the sleep from his bones, Phil opens his curtains, stumbles towards the door, turns the key in the lock and prepares himself for whatever lies waiting for him in the hallway.

“Dan?”

“G’d evening”

“W...what are you doing here?”

“Couldn’t sleep. Fancy a stroll?”

“A stroll? Are you insane?” Phil repeats mockingly, shivering from the cool air in the hallway. “Dan, it’s...” He checks his wrist, and frowns when he sees that it’s naked.

“1 a.m. on a Wednesday night? I know. So, what d’you say?”

Really, he should say no. He really should. It’s one in the morning, it’s a weeknight, he’s got lectures tomorrow and the weather outside is probably cold enough to freeze him to his core within five minutes. He should say no, he really should, but there’s something about roaming the shadowy streets at midnight with Dan that’s far too exciting to turn down.

“Give me thirty seconds and I’ll be right with you.”

Diving back into his room to grab the first items of clothing that he sees, Phil can’t help but feel slightly frenzied. When Dan was in his room last it had ended with the pair of them falling asleep entangled in each other’s arms. Phil hadn’t forgotten that. He had far from forgotten that. Memories of that night had floated through the air ever since, landing on him with the delicate wings of a wistful daydream that left him blushing as it flew away. Now, to both his surprise and his delight, this same boy is knocking on his door and asking for his accompaniment on a ridiculous small-hour escapade.

As he wraps his scarf around his collar, he looks across the room to the moonlit part of his pinboard. One particular piece of paper stands out, and he moves in closer to read it - it’s a quote scribbled onto a scrap of blue paper.

“I looked up at the mass of signs and stars in the night sky and laid myself open for the first time to the benign indifference of the world." 

How strange. He’s had that Albert Camus line scribbled onto a piece of paper for years now, and yet never in his life has it seemed so appropriate as it does right this moment. With a peculiar feeling of rebirth he thrusts his feet into the nearest pair of shoes he can find, and opens the door into the corridor. 

Dan is leaning against the wall of the hallway. The pose strikes him as familiar, and with a shock of nostalgia Phil is transported back to the night when the two of them first met. He remembers how Dan stood in the doorway to the photography club - arms folded, ankles crossed, sly smirk plastered to his mischievous face. How things have changed between them since then. 

Phil locks the door, pockets the key, and when he turns around Dan is staring absentmindedly at the floor with his eyes boring holes into nothingness. Suddenly he blinks, looks up, and his eyes instantly meet Phil’s with a vivid, bittersweet gaze that makes everything else in the world feel like it’s falling away.

It feels like the passing touch of a stranger’s hand on the small of his back at a lavish party. It feels like the shock of a cherry liqueur that stuns the taste buds and leaves behind a decadent, sumptuous and moreish aftertaste. It feels like the sight of a full moon from the balcony of his Grecian holiday home, wind rustling through the leaves as the waves whisper beneath him. Phil’s heart melts... and then he realises. 

He just might be in love.

“What are you thinking about?” Dan asks, breaking the silence as his eyelids hang low. Phil looks at those dark, pretty eyelashes on those dark, pretty eyes, rolls his shoulders back, and sighs.

“Mmmm, nothing.” 

He turns to walk down the narrow hallway with Dan following close behind. They push through the heavy wooden door at the end of the hallway and descend onto the staircase, making their way down the steps that lead out of the building.

“So tell me then, how did you manage to get up to my room?” Phil inquires. “Did Rapunzel let her hair down over the Fellow’s Garden wall for you to use as a rope to climb up?”

Dan laughs. “No, not quite.”

“Well go on then, how did you do it? Surely the main college door would have been locked?”

“Not tonight apparently, I pushed it, and lo and behold it was open. There wasn’t a porter there either. Poor sod’s probably raiding the college’s wine cellar,” he adds with a chuckle.

“Dan! The porters aren’t drunkards.”

“I know I know, but it must be bloody boring just sitting there all night. I know I’d raid the stash if I were them.”

“What, and allow unruly boys who can’t settle down to come and break in to the college grounds? You’d make a great porter.”

“That is why I am not a porter, but a devilish, wicked boy who breaks into colleges so he can sneak into other boys’ bedrooms,” he smiles.

Phil’s mind almost shuts down at that latter part. Out of sheer bewilderment his brain decides to respond by bellowing out “you are a saucy boy” in his best Lord Capulet impression, which has the effect of making Dan double over into a fit of laughter, tears streaming down his face as he wheezes the word “saucy” through silent giggles.  

As they exit the building they’re struck by the biting December cold. Careful to tread lightly across the echoing stone slabs, they stealth across the smaller quad that Phil’s bedroom faces into, creep past the chapel, and step through to the larger quad wherein lies a perfectly-maintained square lawn.

“Hey!” Dan whispers.

“What?”

“Shall we walk across the grass?”

“What? Dan! We can’t do that!” Phil hisses. “We’ll get caught and fined and-”

“Oh stop it! We’re already breaking the rules by sneaking out past 10 p.m. Tarnishing an overly-pampered lawn isn’t any worse.”

Before Phil has time to protest, Dan has already set foot on the forbidden pasture.

“Dan stop! For fuc-”

“Catch me if you can!” 

The boy runs around in circles as Phil loiters on the edge, deliberating on whether or not he should join in, until he looks around the quad and, upon seeing nobody, finally decides to indulge in Dan’s game. They race around the turf, skidding and slipping and ripping up the grass. Phil tries to reach Dan, but no matter how hard he struggles he never seems to be able to catch up.

“What’s that Lester? Too slow are we?” Dan taunts, placing a hand on his hip.

That’s it, Phil thinks. 

Time to put Dan in his place. 

With a final burst of energy Phil lunges forward, hurtling himself towards the other man in a push that sends them crashing to the floor, foreheads colliding with a knock that’ll have both of them bruised by the time the sun shines.

“Ow, shit! My head!”

“You alright?”

Phil rolls off onto the cold lawn, swiftly disentangling himself from the mess of limbs as Dan pushes himself off the ground with a grunt of effort.

“Jesus Christ Phil! What are you, some sort of juggernaut?”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry! Sometimes I don’t know my own strength.”

Dan breathes in deeply, eyes flitting over Phil’s body before travelling back up to meet him.

“Evidently not.”

There’s a moment of silence as they recover, and Phil notices that a few blades of grass are stuck to Dan’s face. Without thinking he reaches out a hand to brush them off, fingers briefly skimming across the surface of the boy’s cheek. Dan’s eyes are wide, and his breath is hot against Phil’s hand, lips parted as his eyes lock with Phil’s. There’s a presence in those eyes that Phil has seen before. Inspecting. Asking. Phil wants to trace his thumb across the surface of Dan’s panting mouth with those big, blinking, innocent eyes staring up at him, maybe slip in a finger and feel that soft, wet tongue...but the flare of uncertainty in his chest tells him to remove his hand, stand up from the ground, and say “shall we get going then?” in the steadiest voice he can muster.

After hoisting Dan up from the ground they creep across the quad towards the lodge where the porter sits. Or rather, where the porter normally sits.

“Hmmm. Still nobody here,” Dan confirms, crooking his head around the front desk.

Phil opens the latch of the small door and steps out. “Quickly then. We don’t want to get caught.” Dan hurries across the cobbled entrance, following him through the exit as it shuts behind them with a soft click.

As soon as they’re out the college gates Dan reaches into his coat and pulls out a small bottle of alcohol. Ah. That would explain a lot. He offers it to Phil, who nods in gratitude and takes a sip.

“Eurgh!” 

Dan laughs. “You don’t like whiskey?” Phil screws his eyes shut, shaking his head as if trying to rid himself of the taste. “Ah well - more for me!” 

On second thoughts, if Dan’s already drunk Phil doesn’t want to be the only one who’s sober, and so he reaches for the bottle with grabbing hands as Dan takes a healthy swig. Although he raises his eyebrows at Phil’s unexplained change of opinion, he hands it over regardless. As they amble through the streets Dan takes the drink back, downing it at an alarming rate, and by the time they’ve made their way to the highroad the vessel is as good as gone. 

“Ah, here we are,” Dan cries, “the theatre!” Phil winces - he’s a little on the loud side.

“I saw a fan-tastic production here the other week. The Phantom of the Opera it was. Bloody blil..bloody brilliant,” he slurs, waving the empty bottle around in his hand. “Very fine chap playing Erik, very fine...” He sighs. “I wanted to be an opera singer, y’know. Dunno know what ‘appened to that.”

Phil frowns. “What d’you mean ‘dunno what happened to that’? You can still have a shot at it.”

“You know, that’s very true,” he mutters, “very true...” 

As they walk down the deserted road the only sound to be heard is the clacking of their heeled shoes, until they turn down an ill-lit side-street and Dan begins to hum a tune that sounds familiar. 

“Is that-”

“The Phantom of the Opera? You didn’t say you’d seen it!” 

Before Phil can gush about his love of musicals, Dan unexpectedly bursts into song.

“Beneath the opera house,

I know he’s there,

He’s with me on the stage,

He’s everywhere.”

For a moment, Phil forgets how to think. He hadn’t expected Dan’s voice to be so high pitched, so silky and delicate and feminine.

“And when my song begins,

I always find,

The phantom of the opera is there,

Inside my mind.”

Dan nods his head as if expecting a reaction. Ah. The next part of the song is sung by The Phantom. Hesitant to embarrass himself but too tipsy to care, Phil takes in a deep breath and attempts to remember the lyrics.

“Since once again with me,

A strange duet.

I power over you,

Grow stronger yet.

You give your love to me,

For love is blind.

The phantom of the opera is now,

Your mastermind.”

He looks back at Dan, whose gawk transforms into a grin.

“Those who have seen your face,

Draw back in fear.

I am the mask you wear.”

Another expectant look from Dan. Oh!

“It’s me they hear!”

If he’s correct, they sing the next part together.

“My spirit and my voice,

In one command.

The Phantom of The Opera is there,

Inside your mind.”

Phil could have died on the spot - their voices sound amazing together. He turns around to beam at Dan, but Dan’s too busy acting to notice.

“The Phantom of the Opera,

He’s there.

The Phantom of the Opera.” 

He waltzes out into the road, obviously getting into it. Phil follows, and their voices combine more. 

“Sing once again with me,

A strange duet.”

“My power over you

Grows stronger yet.”

“You give your love to me ,

For love is blind.

The Phantom of The Opera is now,

My mastermind.”

“Sing my angel of music!” Phil cries.

“He’s there,

The Phan-tom of the O-per-aaaaa”

“Sing once again with me,

For a strange duet.”

Dan finishes off the song with the highest note Phil has ever heard come from a man. Bursting into laughter, he bows to a one-man audience as Phil claps and shouts “bravo!”, throwing invisible roses onto an invisible stage before turning to walk down the street.

“Thank you, thank you,” Dan giggles, buzzing with adrenaline as he looks at Phil, who responds with equal spirit. He isn’t quite sure what just happened, but something about their voices combining together like that felt spectacular. It felt special. As their smiles fade, Dan looks as though he wants to speak.

“Phil,” he begins, “can I...can I compliment you?”

“Of course.”

“You have the most incredible voice. Seriously.”

Phil is stupefied. Really? His voice, “incredible”? 

Something wells up inside his chest, something wild and fleeting and frantic that makes him want to sprint and shout and bowl Dan over with a tackle or a hug or just give in to his long-restrained yearning and just grab his charming, boyish face and just kiss it-

Instead, he reaches out a hand, and lightly taps Dan on the nose with his finger.

“Phil, I think you are the strangest person that I have ever had the pleasure of meeting.”

“Hey, you’re equally weird,” he teases. 

“I know. That’s why I think you’re so wonderful.”

It’s his shy smile that tips Phil over the edge. He reaches out and pulls Dan into a hug that’s forceful and rough, throwing his arms around his shoulders and squeezing him tight as Dan instantly wraps his arms around him, gripping with equal vigour until they can’t get any closer.

“Thank you for agreeing to go on this mad walk with me. It’s just that I...I couldn’t sleep. This stupid performance is in two days and I’ve got so much work to do and I-” His voice cracks. Phil says nothing but rubs Dan’s back in consolation. After a while, the other boy pulls away. 

“Sorry,” he mutters, avoiding Phil’s eye.

“Don’t be sorry. You’re stressed, it’s understandable. I don’t mind anyway, it was my pleasure.” They begin walking. “Don’t worry about all this school work, you’ve got enough time to sort it out before the performance. If you don’t finish it, who cares - you can do it over the holidays.”

With a big sniff, Dan nods. “Yeah. Yeah, you’re right.”

“As for Friday, I’m sure it’ll go smoothly. If you fluff a line just get your sword out and start duelling the audience with your fencing skills. They won’t know what hit them. Literally.”

“Let's hope I don’t fluff anything then, because I don’t want to have to kill you in a sword fight.”

“Aha! How bold you are to assume that I would lose! In fact, I, Philip Michael Lester, otherwise known as... Lance Lester, am a master of sword fighting, known throughout the land for my trusty steel and quick foot.” He snatches at the bottle in Dan’s hand, holding it by its neck. “This was my father's poniard, do you see? I'd be loth to see 't look rusty, 'cause 'twas his.”

Dan cackles, high pitched and loud. “Oh Phil, you’re such a geek, you know that right?”

“Oi - that’s Lance Lester to you!”

“Oh yeah? More like Feeble Phil,” he teases, jabbing at the other boy’s stomach. It doesn’t take long before they start to pretend-fight, scuffling in the street and tussling with each other all the way back home, gradually getting louder and more competitive until they circle back to Turl Street.

“Hey, hey, shhh!” Phil hisses. “We’re back at my college.”

Dan unclences Phil from a headlock and looks up. “We are indeed. Let’s hope the door’s still unlocked.” 

Phil gives it a gentle push, and it opens with a creak. Wriggling free from Dan’s grasp he slips into the entrance, standing with one foot it and one foot out, propping the door open with his chest.

“Well, good luck for rehearsals then. I’ll be at the chapel for…”

“For eight o’clock.”

“Eight o’clock. Right.”

Dan’s face falls. 

“My God.”

“What? What’s the matter?”

“I nearly forgot. Oh, what a disaster that would have been.” 

Phil raises an eyebrow. 

“On the night of the performance the chap I share a room with is going out, so I’m inviting a handful of people back to my room for a little party afterwards. I kept meaning to invite you but I never got round to it. Please say you can make it!”

“It’d be my pleasure.” 

Dan beams. “Perfect, I’ll see you there.” 

He turns away and walks up the street, hands thrust into his trouser pockets as he hurries back to his room. Phil stands at the door, watching. When Dan reaches the corner of the road he turns his head to face backwards, and, although he’s too far away to be sure, Phil is certain that he can feel the warmth of a smile shooting through the air and landing on his breast like the golden tip of Cupid’s pointed arrow, spreading through his body with a tender warmth.

[magic-magpie]

Birthday Message

Wow, this has got to be the shortest thing I’ve written in a long time. I said I’d write something short, and I did! Huzzah! I got the idea from @otp-fanfic-ideas​, so check out their blog if you want some cool ideas! I’ll reblog the one I used, shall I?

UsUk fanfic, 2,398 words.

It’s Alfred’s birthday today! Send him a birthday wish to let him know you’re thinking of him! 

Yes, Arthur knew it was Alfred’s birthday. He didn’t need a Facebook notification to tell him that it was his crush’s birthday. 

Furthermore, Arthur was always thinking of Alfred. Well, not always. That would be creepy and obsessive. Just enough times during the day to confirm that he did indeed have a crush on Alfred. 

If he let Alfred know he was thinking of him, Alfred would know he had a huge-ass crush on him. 

But Arthur needed to send him a birthday wish. Alfred was the type of guy who regularly updated his Facebook status, tagged people (mostly Arthur and Matthew) in stuff, posted pictures, the like. He’d consider the lack of a Facebook birthday message an insult. 

So Arthur had to send him a birthday message.

The only thing was, he didn’t know how. Not literally; he knew what he had to do to post it, he just didn’t know what to write. Usually he just wrote a quick ‘Happy birthday, Alfred!’ and accompanied it with a picture of his favourite superhero or something, but he couldn’t do that on Alfred’s sixteenth! The sixteenth was special, and so the message had to be special! 

Plus, there was the fact that Alfred had sent that birthday message that made his heart flutter and made him fall deeper in love.

Happy birthday, Artie! Sixteen now, bro! Just wanted to say that you’re a hella awesome friend and if I didn’t have you in my life it would be duller ‘cause I wouldn’t have your shining sarcasm to brighten it up! Not to mention your intelligence and sharp wit and all that stuff. Also, your writing abilities are mega-awesome and you’ve got the best imagination I’ve ever seen! So, y’know. Have a hella awesome birthday, and I’m really glad you’re my friend!!

Arthur could not send a simple ‘Happy birthday!’.

His fingers hovered over the keyboard, itching to type what he really wanted to say. He really wanted to tell Alfred what a brilliant person he was; tell him just how seeing his dazzling smile made Arthur’s day better; tell him how his laugh was wonderfully infectious, if loud and obnoxious; tell him about how addictive his shining optimism and hyperactivity were; tell him how his outrageous ideas were simply testament to how much of a genius he was; tell him that he was amazing in every sense of the word.

But that would be the same as typing ‘HAPPY BIRTHDAY ALFRED DID YOU KNOW I HAVE A MASSIVE CRUSH ON YOU?’. 

So, no.

Sighing in frustration, he procrastinated by finding a good picture of Captain America that he could edit into a Happy Birthday e-card, and then once he found one he procrastinated even more by editing it. And this involved finding a suitable background, painstakingly cutting out the image of Steve Rogers, choosing the right colours and the right font, laying it out correctly, all of which took him an hour to do in total.

An hour later he had a perfect e-card, but no message.

Look, just write something which sounds like something you’d say!

Yeah, but do I use real me or hiding-a-crush me?

Use hiding-a-crush you, for God’s sake! Unless you want to tell him how you feel, which I REALLY don’t recommend. He’s gay, but not gay for you.

Shut up, I don’t need you to remind me!

Scowling, Arthur went back onto Facebook. Conversations with himself surrounding his crush always ended like that, with himself reminding him that he had no chance with Alfred. The boy was cheery, optimistic, sunny, dazzling. Why on Earth would he ever want to burden himself down with Arthur’s cynicism, pessimism, sarcasm, and bluntness? Being Alfred’s love was only a fantasy. A shining, brilliant fantasy.

After debating for about five minutes on what to write, he finally typed in something, uploaded his e-card, and hit send.

Arthur Kirkland > Alfred Foster Jones Happy birthday, wanker. Now you’re sixteen years closer to death.

Satisfied, he switched off his laptop and began messing around on his phone, listening to music and scrolling through Tumblr and whatnot, his mind on other things. In a few hours he’d be going to Alfred’s and the two would be going to the ice-skating rink for his party, along with a few of their other friends who they’d meet there. He couldn’t wait to go to Alfred’s house, to sit with him on the bus, to skate with him, to have Alfred hold his hands as he taught Arthur how to skate, to fall into Alfred’s arms when he would end up tripping...

His notification tone rang out, effectively snapping him out of his wonderful daydream. Irritated, he checked his messages, and scoffed. Turned out it was Francis who’d texted him. Francis was his best friend, but he still didn’t approve of being texted by him when he was in the middle of imagining how Alfred’s strong arms would feel around him.

-Arthur what kind of birthday message was THAT

Arthur stared in confusion before he remembered that everyone could see his birthday message, not just Alfred.

-A fine one. Why do you ask?

-Arthur that was anything but fine you have a CRUSH on this boy why are you like this

Arthur scowled. A few months ago (on Arthur’s birthday, incidentally), Francis had figured out the object of Arthur’s affections when he’d caught sight of Arthur smiling and blushing uncontrollably in response to Alfred’s birthday message, and now he’d taken it upon himself to be his Romantic Advisor. His ‘advice’, however, always seemed to be along the lines of ‘hint until he figures it out’.

-Well, I’m not exactly going to give him a sappy message, am I? He’ll KNOW I like him if I do that!

-Mon DIEU Arthur! You’ll scare him off at this rate!

-Pfft, Alfred knows I wish him well. If he didn’t, he wouldn’t have stayed my friend all these years, would he? Honestly, I think sending a heartfelt message would scare him more.

-You are hopeless

Another notification tone rang out, and Arthur pulled down the drop-down menu to read it.

Alfred Foster Jones commented on your picture.

His birthday message popped up, and Arthur felt a little nervous as he scrolled to see what Alfred had said. Despite his words to Francis, there was still the small chance Alfred might take offence, especially considering the sweet birthday message he’d given Arthur.

Alfred Foster Jones Haha love ya too british bastard 😂

Arthur let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding, and grinned like an idiot. Alfred hadn’t taken offence, and had even realised that he held him close to his heart.

He’d even said ‘love ya too’.

Arthur hid his face in his hands and did his best to refrain from gleefully jumping up and down, knowing he’d get all four of his brothers coming into his room and being nosy if he did so. So he contented himself with reading the comment over and over again (concentrating especially on the ‘love ya too’ part).

About five minutes later, Arthur’s notification tone rang out again, alerting him to a text that turned out to be from Alfred.

-Dude?

-You there?

Arthur hastened to respond. He didn’t much mind texts from Alfred.

-Yes, why?

The next text made his breath hitch and eyes go wide.

-Francis kinda told me you like me

Arthur felt himself burn with both anger and embarrassment. On the first day Francis had brought up his knowledge of Arthur’s crush Arthur had very explicitly told him not to tell Alfred. And what had the fucker done? God, Alfred probably thought him some sort of weirdo freak now. He wouldn’t want Arthur round at his house anymore, he would probably act awkward and uncomfortable around him now, they’d grow apart instead of closer –

-Wait wait wait dont go and chew francis out!!

Arthur scowled – that was exactly what he’d been planning on doing.

-Why ever should I not? The bastard frog’s embarrassed me.

-Cause youre gonna thank him!

He blinked, and furrowed his eyebrows. Was Alfred saying... What Arthur thought he was saying? Or was Arthur reading too far into it?

-What a ludicrous notion.

-Nah nah nah, its not ludicrous at all!

-Cause, er...

Arthur waited, his heart in his mouth. There was no way – Alfred couldn’t –

-I kinda like you too, Artie.

Alfred could.

Arthur’s eyes widened and a giddy, deliriously happy feeling took hold of him, making his heart beat a million times a minute and making him feel like he was soaring high above the world. He stared at the message until it was ingrained into his memory, not quite believing his luck.

Alfred liked him back.

Alfred liked him back. 

These two years of desperately wanting Alfred to be his wasn’t for nothing, because Alfred liked him back.

-Artie?? You stil there??

-Yes.

The amount of restraint it took to not keyboard-smash an excited response was quite frankly astounding.

-So?

-Whaddaya say?

-*’What do [I] say’ to what?

-Pfft, grammar nerd 😝

-Anyway, WHADDAYA say to me asking you out?

Oh God. 

Was Alfred trying to make him spontaneously combust with joy?

If he’d needed self-restraint before, he needed ten times the amount now. For God’s sake, Alfred had just asked Arthur out! Day after day Arthur had constructed scenarios in which they confessed to each other, but not once had it crossed his mind that it may actually have ended up happening.

Act cool, Arthur. Don’t freak him out.

-I say that’s a wonderful idea, and I’m inclined to respond with a ‘yes’.

Not two seconds later Alfred called him, and Arthur pressed ‘Accept’ only to be met with Alfred’s loud American voice screaming down the phone.

“OHMIGOD WE’RE DATING ARTIE WE’RE DATING HOLY SHIT YOU’RE MY BOYFRIEND OHMIGOD OHMIGOD OHMIGOD!”

Arthur could practically hear the wide smile stretched across Alfred’s face. What he wouldn’t give to see it...

“How long have you liked me?” Alfred asked excitedly. “It’s been ten months for me, ever since we went to Alton Towers together.”

“Tch, amateur,” Arthur said, although Alfred’s words made his heart go aflutter. Ten months. For ten months Alfred had liked him. However small a time that was compared to how long Arthur had been yearning for Alfred, it still made him smile uncontrollably. “Try two years.”

“Two years?!” He exclaimed. “How the heck did you survive?! I was going crazy with ten months!”

“You learn a few tricks, I guess. Namely, just act how you acted before developing the attraction.” God, Arthur didn’t know how he was keeping himself so calm when all he wanted to do was jump around with joy.

“I think it’s a good thing that I couldn’t hide it well, though,” Alfred mused.

“How come?”

“Well, Francis found me out. That’s why he told me that you like me, ‘cause he knew about five months ago that I like you. Oh, he also told me to tell you that the only reason he told me that you like me is because – er, what was it – oh, because you weren’t ever going to get the ball rolling, so he had to... Or something.”

It was surprising that Arthur even understood that.

He laughed, not having the will to be irritated at Francis anymore. The bloke had literally just gotten Arthur and Alfred to date – being annoyed at him would be criminal.

“Thank God you wear your heart on your sleeve, hm? I didn’t know how much longer I could take it,” Arthur said. Then, a thought suddenly struck him. “Oh, and I actually do wish you a happy birthday, by the way! I just... I wanted to give you a special message like you did for me, but I didn’t know how to go about it without revealing anything.”

“Oh yeah, that!” Alfred laughed in his wonderful way on the other side of the phone. “I knew you meant well, dude! And it was kinda cute.”

Arthur knew his face was beet red by this point, and he muttered, “Sh-shut up, it wasn’t cute.”

“Pfft, yeah it was! Anyway,” he said before Arthur could protest, “seeing as how we’re now boyfriend and boyfriend, do – d’ya wanna come round to mine now instead of later? If you’ve got other things to do that’s totally fine of course, I just wondered if-“

“Alfred,” Arthur interrupted, grinning. Alfred was a confident bloke, but it seemed that romantic stuff could turn him into a nervous wreck. Now that’s cute.

“I’d love to, Alfred.”

“C-cool!” He could sense that Alfred was relieved. “So, heh, I guess I’ll see you soon?”

“See you,” Arthur said, then hung up, grinning like a lovesick dork at his phone. And then he finally let it all out – all the excitement and euphoria and giddiness just burst out of him as he rolled off his bed and jumped and squealed all over his room, not caring when his brothers came barging in and saw him bouncing up and down like a hyperactive jack-in-the-box.

Alfred was his boyfriend.

His BOYFRIEND.

“What the hell’s gotten into you?” one of his brothers asked, looking truly confused.

“Alfred’s my boyfriend and I’m off to his house so if you don’t mind please get out I need to change, thanks!” Arthur shoved them out and began getting himself ready to go to Alfred’s, the ecstatic feeling not lessening in the slightest.

Ten minutes later he was zipping up his boots when his phone buzzed with a text from Francis.

-So are you going to change your Facebook relationship status yet?

-Alfie has

Arthur couldn’t scowl at Francis meddling in his love life, not after what he’d done.

-I suppose I’ll do it, then. ...Thanks, by the way.

-Always happy to help the romantically-inept 😘

He just knew that Francis was chuckling behind his phone, and so was Arthur. But Francis was right – he should update his relationship status. Alfred was a social media addict, even if Arthur wasn’t.

Arthur Kirkland went from being single to being in a relationship with Alfred Foster Jones.

Less than a minute later his phone buzzed again, this time with a Facebook notification.

Alfred Foster Jones And I couldn't be happier!! 😆

Arthur smiled.

[nnorsae]

Tagged by @dee-the-witch thank you so much! i rarely do these but eh i’mma do my best ^^

Rules: Answer these 92 statements and tag people

THE LAST:

1. Drink: Milk 2. Phone call: i think it was mom? maybe my dad? 3. Text message: yeah, my friend ^^ 4. Song you listened to: imagine dragons - thunder 5. Time you cried: haaa just a while ago

HAVE YOU:

6. Dated someone twice: i never dated anyone 7. Kissed someone and regretted it: nah i also never kissed someone  8. Been cheated on: no. 9. Lost someone special: dissociated. our relationship got lost in the mist. 10. Been depressed: oh well i’ve been falling in and out of it, but i’m trying really hard to recover. 11. Gotten drunk and thrown up: i never even tho im okay with drinking

LIST 3 FAVORITE COLORS:

12-14. all shades of green, blue and red 

IN THE LAST YEAR HAVE YOU:

15. Made new friends: a lot of them and i love them all!!! 16. Fallen out of love: it all got lost in the mist. 17. Laughed until you cried: oh, long time ago. didn’t had anyone to laugh with. 18. Found out someone was talking about you: haa i mean i hope no one does, because i get really tense or nervous when i hear my name in another ppl conversations (usually i await mocking)    19. Met someone who changed you: i got closer to such person. but did not meet them, i think i knew them for like a year or so? 20. Found out who your friends are: kinda? i mean i like getting to know a person better (even for the worst) 21. Kissed someone on your Facebook list: um no

GENERAL:

22. How many of your Facebook friends do you know in real life: all of them i think 23. Do you have any pets: i do have an smol angry birb, an playful smol angry cat and two dogs who want to eat each other alive 24. Do you want to change your name: i dunno lol i got used to it? like that’s just how ppl call me. i would badly get used to a new name tho. 25. What did you do for your last Birthday: oh i dunno fell deeper into depression? we had a party, it wasn’t the best but i still at least got my apple cake! 26. What time did you wake up: about 5 am and then slept for another hour

27. What were you doing at midnight last night: i was on tumblr still and probably studying or something like that? maybe procrastinating?

28. Name something you can’t wait for: well my trip to Opava w my choir

29. When was the last time you saw your mom: she just went to sleep 30. What is one thing you wish you could change in your life: lol get my life together? i mean everything always goes wrong but thats cuz my laziness and everything so i guess stop being so lazy. 31. What are you listening to right now:  i’m letting phone do it’s own thing but right now? imagine dragons - gold 32. Have you ever talked to a person named Tom: m classmate i don’t talk to him tho he’s kinda weird 33. Something that is getting on your nerves: right now? myself probably. pull yourself together boy  34. Most visited website:well this hellsite, bakaláři cause i don’t know what’s happening and? ?? uhhhh google search 35. Mole/s: i have like quite lot of em but like everywhere on my body 36. Mark/s: i mean my legs still have my cut marks, my both ankles have mark after being stitched n stuff, i have an mark after stitch on my head (sliced it thank to glass table) else just bruises and cat scratches 37. Childhood dream: i. always. wanted. something. fairytailey!!!! i love princess or like kingdoms and empires kind of fantasy plus elves or like with different creatures from the forest? i always played the mage/hunter princess as a kid so yeah? something like that would be nice. 38. Hair color: dirt blonde with like one very blond bang its not that visible unless on direct light   39. Long or short hair: short hairrr  40. Do you have a crush on someone: its occasional. like i try to keep my distance because i almost always fall in love who just slightly shows some care about me? like okay not always but if we’re really good friends i just can’t help it... ts could so something bout this too 41. What do you like about yourself?: the only thing thats i feel is very me. my stubborness. when i am sure of something you can’t change my mind. it happens rarely but i still possess this weird trait and it’s kinda nice to be determined for once in a while? i mean i also want to prove ppl wrong especially when they say something mean and i don’t have my depression episode... like calmly laugh it off and then do what they fucking think you can’t cause fuck em. they didn’t see it doesn’t matter. you did it. you know you’re able to do it and you’ve proven yourself worthy. 42. Piercings: i have ear piercings but i almost never wear earrings so they’re pretty useless. 43. Blood type: B+ i think. 44. Nickname: Kilda (based off my last name? surrname? what the hell is příjmení in english) and Smartie (im smart when im not in school and it sucks) 45. Relationship status: im like very unexperienced and also single. probably forever. 46. Zodiac: im libra but somehow i relate more to taurus  47. Pronouns: nonbinary (but got used to calling she/her. i see myself more masculine but like not that it matters that much it would be kinda confusing) 48. Favorite TV Show(s): I don’t watch TV? But i guess Friends, since it’s the only show i was able to see few episodes off 50. Right or left hand: im right handed but sometimes i suck at right so i use left!!! 51. Surgery: never had one 52. Hair dyed in different color: i wish. i want to bleach my hair. like not completely white but like to make it more blonde i guess. not like yellow blonde but more like platinum blonde? soft blonde. i dunno how to explain it 53. Sport: i like ball sports except for basketball. i swim and snorchel tho 55. Vacation: i always wanted to go to norway and iceland. i have to someday. 56. Pair of trainers: dark blue vans my best friends

MORE GENERAL:

57. Eating: i really like pizza  58. Drinking: coffee, milk or water 59. I’m about to: sleep 61. Waiting for: something to open my eyes 62. Want: just a really good friend? i feel like i need to hug someone 63. Get married: my parents want me to, but honestly? i’ll see how it turns out because i kinda don’t want things to happen as my parents want so yeah i’ll see how things turns out 64. Career: i wanted to be like an illustrator/writer but like not even half sure dude

WHICH IS BETTER

65. Hugs or kisses: i never been kissed but hugs are nice 66. Lips or eyes: eyes 67. Shorter or taller: i have no preference 68. Older or younger: older 70. Nice arms or nice stomach: wtf 71. Sensitive or loud: i kinda like both?? theyre so precious 72. Hook up or relationship: listen i cant get it on with a hook up i literally hate hook ups because i suffer from something called not being attracted to someone unless i know them well?? 73. Troublemaker or hesitant: depends. I’m usually hesitant tho.

HAVE YOU EVER:

74. Kissed a Stranger: never tahnks 75. Drank hard liquor: i though it was a water ok i didnt knew my granny wanted to drink some hard alcohol in a water glass  76. Lost glasses/contact lenses: i broke em? but never lost em 77. Turned someone down: yeah i did. i feel bad but it’s like long time ago.  78. Sex on the first date: wtf ppl 79. Broken someone’s heart: i hope i didn’t    80. Had your heart broken: yeah... 81. Been arrested: broke the law few times but they never caught me 82. Cried when someone died: yeah.... 83. Fallen for a friend: OH BOY I FEEL PERSONALLY ATTACKED RIGHT NOW (yes i did and like i guess they didnt know and still i wouldnt even confess to them so it wouldn’t really matter)

DO YOU BELIEVE IN:

84. Yourself: im trying my best to   85. Miracles: hell yeah 86. Love at first sight: no? 87. Santa Claus: that fat man can go back where he came from 88. Kiss on the first date: i mean if they want to?? it would be really akward tho jesus christ...

OTHER:

90. Current best friend name: I don’t have one, sadly. 91. Eye colour: Light green but people usually say it’s blue or grey 92. Favourite movie: i dunno man i like horror movies but i don’t have my favorite

Everyone who wants to do thsi feel free to do it!! i can’t think of ppl who i would tag @chibipu maybe?? only if you want to tho 

[swanandapirate]

Blue Petals & Broken Glass. Ch. 10

Summary: Emma had the night shift and when a burglary call came in, she had to go and do her job. She ended up at the flowershop of a certain Killian Jones and he clearly knew more about the robbery than he was letting on.

ch.9: tumblr / ff.net

this chapter: ff.net

the whole story: ff.net

Amazing banner by @shady-swan-jones​

A/N: It feels like every time I blink, three months (or four) pass. I’ve been so focused on school and my exams that I couldn’t write at all. Like, I had no time and during the rare moments that I did, there was no inspiration. Now that that stress is out of the way and my results were pretty decent, I hope I’ll be able to update more. Thank you so much for sticking around regardless of my sporadic updates ❤

The short sound of a new message reached Emma. It had to be the seventh time in two days that her phone had made that exact noise and she instantly knew who had sent it. Killian apparently did not understand Emma simply needed some time. He certainly wasn’t helping his case. The content of the incessant texts was always a variation of “I apologize, please come back.”

It sucks not getting an answer to your messages, doesn’t it?

It did make her feel in charge; having Killian begging on his knees for her. A proper revenge for all of those texts she sent which disappeared into the great void, unanswered. It may seem petty and slightly bitter, but she was glad with anything that made her feel alright, that took her thoughts away from that gloomy place filled with questions of love and hate.

Emma tried to make sense of it all, tried to categorize what exactly she felt for him, but it was as if her heart was one labyrinthine mess, a jumble of all the things Killian had said and done and every emotion corresponding to his words and actions. Wariness, lust, nervousness, anger, frustration, gratitude, confusion,… The list went on. Ceaseless.

Of course she couldn’t stay holed up in her apartment forever; there was work to be done and her promise towards Killian withstood, regardless of how much he shook everything around with his attempt to kiss her. Emma’s task was now to hide its effect as masterfully as she could. That was a worry for later, however. There still remained a nine-hour shift between the early morning and the moment she had to go and face Killian again.

Drizzle fell out of the gray sky, lightly and slowly covering the streets. Protecting her head with her raincoat, Emma walked towards her car, her steps a bit faster than usual. She started the engine, turned the windshield wipers on and was on her way. There was something extremely peaceful about an early, rainy morning, something that seemed to calm her, to take away any pressing thoughts and replace them with white noise. It was perfect.

Once she arrived at the station, she brewed a pot of coffee, its aroma spreading through the room like a very present perfume, and started working. It was boring paperwork but the resentment of the task had somehow vanished. It kept her busy and that was all that mattered at that time.

There were footsteps when the clock announced noon and Emma’s gaze abandoned the paper, turning her spinning chair. David smiled, one of his characteristic charming smiles and she felt her lips twitch in return.

He rolled his chair towards her desk and set a bag on it. In slight surprise, Emma’s brow furrowed; she opened the brown bag. Instantly, the smell of food found its way to her nostrils, conveying yet another smile on her face.

“Mary Margaret?” Emma already knew that only she would think of handing David an extra portion of food before heading for the station.

“You know it is.” David shrugged, a trace of pride in the movement.

That was love, true love.

“I’m going to send her a text to thank her.” Emma narrowed her eyes, scanning her desk for her phone and eventually retrieving it from under a sheet of paper.

“Maybe you can stop by the loft tonight,” he carefully suggested, “Mary Margaret misses you and I’m sure your godchild does too.”

The conflict rose inside of Emma. Of course she wanted to see her best friend and godchild, but she also had a standing promise to Killian. And if she didn’t go, he’d get worried and send her even more text messages she would then ignore. It felt bad choosing Killian over her family, the only one she ever had, but she had made this commitment herself.

“I’d love to, but I have somewhere to be tonight.” She sighed while reluctantly replying and confirming that she resented making that choice.

David slightly tilted his head and looked at her with scrutinizing eyes in search of something on her face. It felt as if she was supplying him too much information, so she averted her gaze and stared at her desk.

“Could this have anything to do with that very short and effective conversation I had with Killian some time ago?”

“It could. Possibly,” she added, probably confirming David’s hunch instead of maintaining a feigned casual and uninvested attitude about the whole ordeal.

“But I can assume you are talking again?” In a barely visible movement, his eyebrow rose.

“Yeah, we are.” Emma nodded truthfully, letting her friend see a small corner of the one thousand piece, extremely intricate puzzle. “I’m helping him with something,” she continued, keeping under wraps what the puzzle exactly depicted.

“I take it I’m not allowed to know what that something is.”

“Not yet,” Emma confirmed, the hurt of being so secretive clear in her voice.

David let out a sigh. It was soft, as if it was only meant for himself. A personal complaint about how difficult it was to uphold a friendship with her. The short puff only made her feel more guilty.

“Fine,” he conceded with a shrug. He slightly widened his light blue eyes to emphasize his next statement. “Just know that if you need anything, I’m here.”

Emma blamed her tired self and the emotional roller coaster she had been through, she even considered blaming PMS for the watery blur that had started to form in her eyes. The truth was that she still needed to adjust to having people, people who would be there for her and protect her and love her. Sometimes that realization tended to smother her completely.

“I know that, David. Thanks for always having my back,” she said earnestly before gently squeezing his arm across the desk.

Emma: I’m stopping by after my shift tonight to go through the remaining files.

Well done, Emma. It’s determined, it doesn’t beat around the bush, can’t convey any illusions and, most importantly, it doesn’t need an answer longer than ‘Okay.’

Killian: Okay. Do you think we could talk while you are here?

Obviously, Killian didn’t get the memo.

Emma: I don’t know.

I don’t know must have been the crappiest answer she could give, helping neither Killian nor her any further with determining the boundaries for their meeting, but frankly, Emma did not feel like making an effort. She didn’t feel like overthinking whether or not she was ready for a talk and whether or not talking equated forgiving and forgetting. Although, it wouldn’t take a long to figure out her point of view about that last one

Deferring their not-so-happy-reunion, Emma sat in her Bug and did absolutely nothing except for staring at her wheel and occasionally checking whether or not Killian had noticed her presence on the flower shop’s parking lot.

She could send him a text saying that an emergency intervened and that she couldn’t be able to make it, a text asking to reschedule. But it wouldn’t make a difference, if she procrastinated, they would meet tomorrow or the day after that. It was like a bandage, the quicker she ripped it off, the shorter the pain.

With determined strides, Emma crossed the gravel and in one swift movement, she pushed the door open.

“Swan.” Killian jumped off of the stool he sat on and clumsily made his way to her.

Desperation definitely isn’t a good look on him.

“I know you’re probably sick of hearing me apologize,” he continued, “so I promise this is the last one. I apologize for my behavior last week. It was completely inappropriate and it will not happen again, I promise.”

“Look, Killian, what you did was indeed very inappropriate and it better not happen again,” she threatened. “I also really don’t feel like talking about it right now, we have work to do.” Her eyebrows went up to ask if he had understood without actually saying the words.

“Thank you,” he said suddenly, surprising Emma with both the gratitude and the sincerity imbued in his voice, “For still wanting to help me after all that I’ve put you through.”

Emma’s big eyes stared at his blue ones for a long time, the connection only occasionally broken by quick blinks. The breaths she took seemed inadequate to supply enough oxygen to her brain and her thoughts became hazy while her chest started heaving. Her eyes fell shut as she internally berated herself for getting overwhelmed by him, yet again.

“I’m only here because I made you a promise,” Emma responded, hoping the words came out convincingly, “and I’m not one to break my promises.”

After a few additional seconds of his eyes on Emma, Killian nodded, showing his understanding. She nearly let out a breath in relief.

He turned around and walked to the back room and she followed. The files still lay on the table but they were now stacked in two neat piles instead of the clutter they were in when she hastily left on Friday.

Her arms left her leather jacket and hung it over the back of her chair. Silently, the both of them reached for a bundle of paper and started reading, in search of Gold’s alias R. Stiltskin, of the smallest clue in the records.

Even though they had had a breakthrough, the lead led to absolutely nowhere. Killian got more nervous with each passing day, his movements more frantic and his temper easier lit. And after every evening Emma consecrated to assisting him, her indifference was making way for compassion and fear for what would happen to him if they ended up empty handed.

“This is leading nowhere!” Killian yelled as he threw away his file and it slid over the wooden table, ending up on the floor.

“Killian,” she attempted to placate him. “Don’t give up hope, we’ll find something.”

Her hand hesitantly moved and settled on his arm, softly squeezing in a reassuring gesture.

“Swan, you can’t keep pretending like we’re actually going to achieve anything with this.” Killian pulled his arm away from her touch, from her, as he reclined in his seat, backing away from the table.

Emma let her hand fall back onto the table’s surface. “There’s nothing else we can do.”

“Yes, there is,” Killian claimed but didn’t actually indulge her in the details of his idea

Emma widened her eyes and lifted her brow, prompting him to continue, to include her in his master plan.

“If anyone has tangible evidence of what happened to Milah, it’s Gold himself,” he told her. “We need to find a way to access his personal archives.”

“What?” Emma exclaimed in an aghast question.

She couldn’t contain her bewilderment of Killian’s suggestion. He wanted to break into somewhere, either physically or virtually, to gain information; he wanted consort to illegality despite it being for the greater good.

“No,” she opposed. “Never in a million years, Killian.” The authority drenched her words.

“Swan,” he attempted to convince her, “It’s the only way.”

“I will not.” Her hands curled up into a ball instinctively. She was sheriff, she would not, she could not. She couldn’t do it herself, nor could she be an accomplice. It was against the law that she was expected to uphold.

“You don’t have to do anything, Swan.” Killian’s hand was on her shoulder, turning her to him, forcing her to look at the sparkle of hope his face bore after the blandness of the last few weeks. “I’ll do this on my own,” he reassured her.

“I said no,” she said more quietly, her previous outrage lost by his furor.

The reasons why Killian couldn’t do this were gathered in a list in Emma’s head. A lot of them had to do with crime ,but the most important one, the one that stood at the top one was that she couldn’t lose him. Even if he wasn’t hers to lose. She tried to expose that feeling by keeping her tone soft and pleading. It didn’t help, however.

“Why do you keep disputing with me when we both know I don’t have another option?” He let go of her and pushed himself away from the table. For a moment, he agitatedly paced around the room before returning to her. “Is this because I tried to kiss you?”

The fuck does that have to do with anything?

As soon as the fury had vanished, it reappeared. How dare he suddenly mention that kiss again as if it was the root of their current discussion? Because it was not.

“What?!” she shouted, getting up herself to stand on an equal footing.

“Because I apologized for that, Emma. It happened, I can’t go back in time to change that and you can’t hold a grudge forever.”

“It’s not about that!” Her hands flew in the air.

“Then what is it? Why can’t you admit this is the only way?”

“I’m a sheriff, Killian. That’s is my job,” Emma reminded him. “I can’t lose it because you are being careless. I’m going out of my way to help you, to keep helping you, but we have to do it by the book. If Gold figures out my role in this, my head is on that spike with you, as well as the reputation of the station, and David and- I’m not involving him.”

It silenced Killian, his face pensive as he was thinking of a reply.

“Okay,” he agreed, nodding. “We’ll do it your way.”

“Thank you.” Emma filled her lungs with oxygen to calm down. “I know we only have four days left but we’ll find something. I’m sure of it.”

Who would have expected Emma Swan to be part of the hope squad her two best friends had a lifelong membership of? There was very little option left, except for hope for the best. Emma moved her lips into a small smile that was meant to reassure him.

Killian didn’t look convinced, however; his gaze seemed too troubled for that and the lines between his eyebrows too deep. It was getting late but Emma couldn’t leave him like this; the worry she felt inside was telling her he would try something that she wouldn’t approve of.

Gold was Killian’s anathema. Every fiber of his body wanted to make the villain account for what he had done, but Emma, telling him not to do anything illegal, forced him to stay put, to remain immobile while the bastard could go where he wanted regardless of the fact that he killed someone. It was an unfair world, Emma understood that, but that didn’t mean everyone got a free pass

“Promise me,” she said, dragging Killian’s eyes towards hers.

There was no immediate answer and while she awaited one, the seconds ticked away. It was as if there was a clock embedded somewhere in Emma’s body, the arrows reverberating with every strike and making Emma painfully aware of time.

Finally, after emitting a heavy sigh and using his fingers to comb through his hair, Killian shook his head in acquiescence.

“I promise.” His voice undulated while uttering the words and it did absolutely nothing to console Emma.

She collected her stuff, stalling her departure instead of her entrance, as she kept on worriedly glancing towards Killian. Emma left the premises, walking out into the quiet night, hoping and pleading and praying that he would keep his promise.

[365daysof2017]

50/365

Dear tumblr,

I’m gonna start off my posts like this. Hi it’s me. Ash. I’m back. Sorry I didn’t post much last January but you know me, I get lazy, and I procrastinate. I’m just gonna continue where I left off with my previous blog, 366daysof2016, though, I still can’t process that it’s already 2017. 

So how am I? Great. Honestly, not. Life is really really really complicated. It’s probably really simple, just me making things complicated, I don’t know.

 I actually have been worse. I thought I’ve already moved on from David. You see, I told myself that I already need to forget him and all, and I actually did. I met some guys on kik, some lasted on my chatbox, and some didn’t, but everything seemed okay. Everything seemed okay. Then for some reasons, I started cutting my wrist. I have plans to do it again sometime but, I can still hold it.

Okay back to the “David” topic. Everything keeps coming back and it was really hard for me cause I don’t have any space in my mind to think about him. I’m already thinking about a shit ton of crap in my head, and I don’t want to think about him anymore. I thought I already forgot about him. But everything keeps coming back.

So this one day, last Saturday, we went to an Amusement Park. Nothing connected to him at all. I had so much fun! I got home at around 11PM. Then I had a fucking dream. 

It’s the worst type of dream, cause I was lucid. I’m always lucid when I dream about him, so it makes it  even harder. In my dreame, he went to the Phillipines, he apologized. He did everything. I already kinda forgot, but one thing I remember is that it was fun. I had fun. I was happy.

The morning after, I realized how important he was to me, god I was thinking about him the whole fucking day! How I was so happy with him, how he made me feel special... The whole fucking day.

At around 10PM, I was on kik, just randomly flirting with strangers online. I did something impulsive. I messaged him. 

me: dude me: I fucking hate you so much me: I wasn’t done with you yet and you fucking blocked me. So here’s the time where I was supposed to reply another message cause I was gonna flood him with hate messages, but he fucking replied. Instantly. I didn’t expect that. He never replies fast.

David: Ok. me: You fucking left me hanging David: Yea David: I suppose so me: You even called the night before you blocked me! me: what me: that’s it David: I’m sorry me: no explanation or anything David: I dont know what to say me: right me: just fucking say something please

Oh god I was so annoyed and so pissed and so nervous I felt everything at once. He didn’t even say anything. I wanted to hear something from him. I wanted an explanation. That was the only thing I needed to move on and yet he couldn’t give it to me.

David: I just David: Idk I got caught up with the army David: And I was afraid I’d hurt you David: So I ran from the situation David: Which still hurt you but atleast left room for hate me: and went to her instead me: yup

Ohhh shit put an ice to that burn, bitch.

David: Lol I’m not dating anyone so don’t try that

Uhm excuse me? Don’t you think I know anything you’ve been up to? Man I know everything. I have eyes everywhere. Everywhere. It’s kinda creepy, tbh.

me: lmaooooo me: songia??? David: Go look at my stuff David: Not dating anyone David: In fact we broke up and I slept with someone else and now we don’t talk at all First thing that came up to my mind: He’s not a virgin anymore. LMAOO.

David: So that’s that sticky situation I wasted 2 years on

Ha. Sticky. Cause you slept with someone? LMAO OKAY. me: right me: fuck me: its been months me: and its still you me: fuck you okay David: What do you mean me

Dumb-fucking-ass?? Are you that ignorant? or are you just dumb???

me: I hate you so much me: you’re still the one I remember David: Okay I expect that me: I keep having dreams

(lmao why did I say that?)

David: I’m sorry David: I dont know what to say or do me: and its fucking annoying me: its so hard to forget you me: I keep getting these dreams me: and it just made me remember you even more David: Sorry David: I don’t know what to say

ikr, it’s not like it’s your fault I get the dreams??

me: why did you just block me though me: why didn’t you atleast say something David: Trying to run again David: Realized it’s not the right thing to do David: I don’t have anything to say David: You’re right I shouldn’t have left you hanging David: It was wrong of me David: I thought about it too David: I felt bad David: But I couldn’t face it me: fuck you for leaving me when I already fell for you. me: you even said you’re gonna go here me: ugh David: Fuck me David: Okay I get it David: You hate me David: I’m shit David: Leave me alone if that’s all you want to say

Seriously dude, do you really not sense my purpose here? I want you back.

me: I just wanted an explanation lol me: and I didn’t want you to leave me: those were the words you said and I can’t believe I’m saying it me: I don’t want you to leave me alone

So that’s it that’s the serious part. The next part of our conversation wasn’t as long as this one but we were just bantering around. I don’t think he’s as comfortable with me as he was before but I feel like there’s still something.

I just feel so confused about my feelings for him, confused about what we are, confused about what he feels for me. Last Friday, he sent me a message, and I was in school

9:51 AM David: Hey David: You busy?

So I read it during my lunch time cause we were doing something

11:39 AM me: I’m in school

1:42 PM David: Call me after

2:32 PM me: I can’t I have like 100MB left

9:43 PM David: Ughh David: Noooo David: When do you get more David: You are legit so cute David: In your picture David: And your body looks good lol David: JUST SAYING.

I wasn’t able to reply cause I was watching this Selena Gomez film, Monte Carlo. It was really nice btw, I loved it.

11:00 PM me: LMAOOO me: I’m home now it’s like 11 David: What lol. David: I know, I know David: Why you laugh. me: idk me: whats up David: Laying in bed being lazy David: Hbu Piper

Fuck. Right in the feels. So much nostalgia. Piper’s the daughter of Aphrodite in the series that we love, he used to call me Piper, and I told him if I’m Piper then he’s the Jason to my Piper. (Jason’s the love interest of Piper in the books)

me: I just finished watching a movie me: and it was greatttt I loved it David: What movie? David: *sends a cute selfie* David: Lol look @ me

okay so I totally forgot that he asked a question cause a cute fucking selfie just popped in my screen.

me: you look different David: Do I? David: How so?? David: Bad huh David: Thanks I’m ugly ik me: yeah idk me: you look happy me: no wdym ugly David: I am ugly David: You making fun of me lol David: Thanks me: wtf you’re not ugly shut up me: what time is it there me: and where are you David: I’m in kentucky US David: And it is 0912 there!

Idk that’s probably how they read time in the army

David: Girl you’re obsessed David: Lmao jkjk me: ruuude David: No me: Kentucky though me: KFC David: I like you dw

okay... fuck... that was sudden. I mean, good job! That’s a great way to make me even more confused about what’s happening here!

me: ha David: Yes lmao! David: It’s not that good David: I figured it would be the best here David: But it’s the same as everywhere else me: really? me: that’s sad David: It’s nothing special David: Send me a selfie? me: I dont have a selfie me: jk David: Send me one David: Now David: I order you me: dude me: chill David: Lol nope I wanna seee youuuu me: I’m still looking for something decent David: Send them all David: Right meow me: *sends a selfie* me: tada me: I like that one lmao me: hoe filter me: I got more pimples me: smhhhh me: *sends another selfie* me: and one time my hair became like this hahah David: Fucking cute David: Is that overalls lol me: yes hahah

Then he left me on read. But because I’m a creepy-ass stalker that knows his facebook account, I saw his post that he shared. The post said, “I like clingy. I’d rather have someone who blows up my phone and shows they care than someone who texts back 12 hours later” So I messaged him this morning. I didn’t care if I double texted. 

me: dude me: when are you free David: Not tonight, I don’t think me: aw but when David: Idk I’m with jocelyn rn

Who’s Jocelyn???

me: ohh okay me: tell me when you’re available David: Okay

So that was it. I notice that I keep on using the word ‘dude’. Idk what to call him?? Maybe I’ll refer to him as Jason soon. Back to his facebook though, he also shared a post that said, “I blocked my ex on everything but she somehow managed to message me through direct tv *a pic of that*”.. Well.. Was that me? Lol. I dont know!! Someone commented though, “Man, if she goes through that much trouble to try to talk to you I would have to give her a second chance haha” then he replied, “that’s true hahah” UGH ITS JUST SO CONFUSING. So that’s all I have to say about him.

Now I’m here typing this blog. I don’t know, I just wanna talk to him, on the phone. Maybe that’d clear things up, but for now, I never think about our future. I don’t wanna think about the next step, cause when it doesn’t happen, I’m just gonna be twice disappointed. 

This was really a long first blogpost. See ya next time. 

Love, Ash