#on the verge of even more greatness.. when its felt like YOUR YEAR..... .. so close to being just the fucking 4th maple leaf in history....

[3416]

Leafs vs Rangers | 4.13.23

[jaeyunluvbot]

sad beautiful tragic

genre/tags 𝟅𝟈 angst, lovers to exes, joshua hong x reader, fiance!joshua x reader

word count 𝟅𝟈 4.2k

part two

NOT PROOFREAD

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧��‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

It’s your freshman year of college. You’d taken the risk and moved across the country to go to UCLA. It was your first exam season and you were sorely regretting this choice, wishing you had your family and friends to lean on.

The library is dead silent except for the occasional rustle of pages and the distant hum of the air conditioner. Your head hurts from staring at your statistics textbook for too long, the numbers blurring together like they’re mocking you. You press your palms into your forehead, trying to focus, but it’s useless.

You’re on the verge of packing up and leaving when a voice interrupts your spiral.

“Mind if I sit here?”

You glance up, your eyes landing on a boy holding a tray with two coffees. He’s tall, with a warm smile and a slightly oversized UCLA hoodie that makes him look impossibly soft.

You nod, gesturing to the seat across from you. “Go ahead.”

As he sits down, he slides one of the cups toward you. “You look like you need this more than I do.”

You blink, taken aback. “What—how did you know I needed caffeine?”

He chuckles, the sound light and easy. “You’ve been glaring at that textbook for like ten minutes.”

You laugh despite yourself, the tension in your chest loosening. “Fair point. Thanks... I guess I owe you one now.”

“Nah,” he says, leaning back in his chair. “Think of it as my good deed for the day. I’m Joshua, by the way.”

“Y/N,” you reply, taking a cautious sip of the coffee. It’s just the way you like it—strong but not bitter. “This might actually save my grade.”

“Glad to be of service,” he says with a grin.

For the next hour, you pretend to study, but really, you’re watching him out of the corner of your eye. He’s quiet but not shy, the kind of person who makes you feel at ease without even trying. By the time you pack up your things to leave, you realize you don’t feel so alone anymore.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

Life after college had been better than you'd ever imagined. When you moved to California for college, you’d never expected to find more than just a degree. Joshua had been the anchor in a world that felt so foreign—your solace when homesickness hit you hard. By the time graduation rolled around, the two of you were inseparable.

Your careers had fallen into place perfectly. You landed a job in New York, but when Joshua asked if you’d stay in California with him, you didn’t hesitate. You turned down the offer, found a great position in LA, and never looked back. Being close to him felt worth every sacrifice.

The proposal had been perfect in its simplicity. One quiet evening in your shared apartment, he’d set the table with your favorite takeout, candles flickering between cartons of food. You’d laughed when he nervously fumbled with the ring box but cried when he asked, “Will you marry me?” The answer had been a resounding yes.

At first, Joshua was just as excited as you were. He’d scroll through the boards with you, offering opinions on everything from table settings to wedding bands. “Simple and elegant,” he’d said, his voice laced with warmth as he picked out a gold band that matched yours. He’d even gotten himself a matching engagement ring, claiming he wanted everyone to know he was spoken for.

But then work started picking up for him.

It was little things at first—missing a cake tasting or zoning out during a discussion about the guest list. “Whatever you think is best, babe,” he’d say with a tired smile. At first, you brushed it off. He was busy, and you didn’t want to add to his stress.

Then, he missed your appointment with the wedding planner. It was supposed to be a big one, the meeting where you’d decide on the venue. You’d picked out three options together, but sitting across from the planner with an empty chair beside you made your stomach twist uncomfortably.

You called him after the meeting. He answered on the third ring, his voice apologetic but distant. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. The meeting at work ran over, and I couldn’t get away. Did you pick something?”

You paused, the lump in your throat growing. “Yeah. I went with the vineyard. It felt right.”

“That sounds perfect,” he said quickly, relief evident in his tone. “I trust your judgment.”

You tried to smile, but it felt forced.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

By the time he missed the florist appointment a week later, it wasn’t a surprise. “Sorry, babe. Just go with whatever you like,” he said when you called him, his voice rushed. “I know you’ll make it beautiful.”

You hung up feeling a mix of frustration and sadness. It wasn’t just the missed appointments. It was the way he seemed to disengage completely, like the wedding was your project and not something you were supposed to be building together.

He still wore his ring, still kissed you goodnight and said, “Love you.” But his words felt like a habit, something automatic and unthinking. You told yourself he was just busy, that once the stress of work eased up, things would go back to the way they were.

But deep down, you couldn’t ignore the growing ache in your chest.

The phone feels heavy in your hand as you sit cross-legged on the couch, staring at the blank TV screen. Joshua isn’t home yet—another late night at the office, or so he says. You’ve been scrolling aimlessly through your wedding Pinterest board, but even the dreamy photos of lace gowns and candlelit venues can’t shake the dull ache in your chest.

When the call connects, your mom’s warm voice cuts through the silence. “Sweetheart, how’s my favorite daughter?”

You manage a smile, even though she can’t see it. “Hi, Mom. I’m... okay.”

“Just okay?” she asks, a hint of concern in her voice.

You hesitate, unsure how much to say. “It’s just... I don’t know. I think I’m feeling a little lonely.”

“Lonely? What about Joshua? You two are practically glued together.”

Your throat tightens at the mention of his name. “He’s been so busy with work lately. And I don’t know, Mom, it’s like... I can’t really talk to him about how I’m feeling. I don’t want to add to his stress.”

“Sweetheart, you can always talk to me,” she says gently.

“I know.” You pause, picking at a thread on the couch cushion. “It’s just hard sometimes. All my friends here are his friends, you know? I can’t exactly call them and say, ‘Hey, I think Joshua’s pulling away from me.’”

There’s a soft sigh on the other end of the line. “Oh, honey. I wish I were closer. Are you sure everything’s okay between you two?”

“I don’t know,” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. “He’s... different. He’s not excited about the wedding anymore. He misses every appointment, and when I try to talk about it, he just says to do whatever I want. Like it doesn’t even matter to him.”

Your mom’s voice softens even more. “Sweetheart, planning a wedding is stressful for anyone, but it sounds like you’re taking on all the weight by yourself. That’s not fair.”

Tears sting your eyes as you blink rapidly, trying to keep them from falling. “I just miss you, Mom. I wish you were here.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” she says, her voice thick with emotion. “I’ll come see you next month, okay? We’ll spend some time together, just us girls. Sit tight until then.”

“Okay,” you murmur, even though next month feels like a lifetime away.

After you hang up, the apartment feels even quieter than before. You glance at the dining table, still set with the meal you’d made hours ago, untouched. The ache in your chest feels heavier now, pressing down until it’s hard to breathe.

You wonder, not for the first time, if this is what homesickness feels like—not just for a place, but for a version of your life that feels like it’s slipping away.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

“You really need to decide on your groomsmen soon, Josh,” you say, your voice soft but edged with the faintest hint of impatience. “I can’t finalize the bridesmaids until I know how many you’re having.”

It’s late, and he’s seated at the kitchen counter, scrolling through his phone while you try to bring up yet another wedding detail. His hair is tousled from work, and he looks tired, but you push forward. You’ve been asking him about this for weeks now.

He looks up briefly, his expression unreadable. “I know, Y/N. I’ll get to it, I promise.”

You pause, trying to keep your frustration in check. “It’s been two months, Josh. You haven’t even mentioned it to anyone yet.”

“I’ve just been busy,” he says with a sigh, rubbing the back of his neck. “But I’ll figure it out soon. Don’t worry.”

“Okay,” you say, forcing a smile. “But you really need to. It’s not just about the numbers—it’s about including people who are important to you.”

He nods distractedly, his eyes already back on his phone.

That night, as you lie awake in bed, you replay the conversation over and over. It’s such a small thing—picking groomsmen. It shouldn’t feel like such a big deal, but somehow, it does.

It’s not the first time he���s brushed off something wedding-related. It’s not the first time he’s promised to “get to it.” And it’s certainly not the first time you’ve felt like you’re the only one putting real effort into planning the day that’s supposed to celebrate both of you.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

By the time another week rolls around, you’re still waiting. Another week of him saying, “I’ve been thinking about it,” without any actual decisions. Another week of you wondering if this is what the rest of your life is going to look like—waiting for Joshua to care about something as much as you do.

When you ask him again, gently but firmly, his response is the same. “I’ll get to it.”

But he doesn’t.

And as you sit at the dining table that night, staring at your wedding planner and a half-empty glass of wine, it hits you like a punch to the gut: he’s not avoiding the groomsmen because he’s busy. He’s avoiding it because it doesn’t matter to him.

Because maybe you don’t matter to him—not the way you used to.

The thought sends a chill down your spine. You push the wedding planner aside, get up, and walk to the bathroom. His ring is still on the counter, where it’s been more and more lately. You stare at it, the dull ache in your chest flaring into something sharper.

“Oh,” you whisper to yourself, the word heavy with realization.

You leave the ring where it is and head to bed, the sheets cold and uninviting. For the first time, you don’t wait up for him.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

The next morning feels heavy before it even starts. You wake up to an empty bed again, the sheets on his side rumpled but cold. You find him in the kitchen, sipping coffee and scrolling through emails on his phone, still wearing the same distracted expression you’ve come to know all too well.

“Hey,” you say softly as you pour yourself a cup. “We need to figure out the wedding party today. We’ve been putting it off too long.”

Joshua glances up, his brow furrowing. “I know. Let’s sit down after breakfast and go through it.”

You nod, hopeful for a moment. Maybe today will be different.

But before you can even finish your coffee, his phone buzzes on the counter. He picks it up, and you watch as his expression shifts from tired to tense.

“It’s my secretary,” he mutters, holding up a hand as he answers.

“Mr. Hong,” her voice is clear even from where you sit, “I’m so sorry to bother you on a Saturday, but the investors are furious about the delay. They’re demanding an emergency meeting.”

Joshua runs a hand through his hair, already moving toward the bedroom to grab his bag. “I’ll be there in thirty minutes. Thanks for letting me know.”

When he returns, he’s tucking his phone into his pocket and slipping on his shoes. “I’m so sorry, babe,” he says, leaning down to kiss the top of your head. “I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”

You look up at him, frustration and sadness bubbling beneath the surface. “We were supposed to figure out the wedding party today, Josh.”

“I know,” he says, his voice rushed. “We’ll do it tomorrow. I promise.”

You glance at the counter as he heads for the door, and your stomach sinks. His ring is still there, sitting carelessly next to the fruit bowl.

The door closes behind him, and the apartment falls into silence.

You sit there for a long time, staring at the spot where his ring rests. Then, slowly, you slip your own ring off your finger. The weight of it has felt heavier these past few weeks, more a reminder of what’s slipping away than what’s supposed to be.

You carry it to your bedroom and place it gently in the jewelry box on your dresser, nestled between a pair of earrings your mom gave you and an old bracelet from college. It doesn’t feel right, taking it off—but it doesn’t feel wrong, either.

That night, you go to bed alone again, the silence in the apartment pressing down on you. You wonder, as you lie there staring at the ceiling, how many more nights will feel like this.

And for the first time, you don’t cry. You’re too tired to cry anymore.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

The next evening, Joshua finally comes home. It’s later than usual, but you’re still awake, sitting on the couch with your wedding planner open in front of you. You’re not really reading it, though. Instead, you’ve been staring at the untouched coffee cup you poured for him hours ago, now cold.

“Hey,” he says softly as he steps inside, setting his bag by the door. He glances at you, and his brow furrows slightly. “You’re still up?”

“Yeah,” you say, keeping your voice steady. “We need to talk.”

He hesitates for a moment, then nods. “Okay. Let me just—”

“Now, Josh,” you interrupt, standing and closing the planner with a soft thud.

He blinks at the sharpness in your tone but joins you in the living room. You sit on the edge of the couch, hands clasped tightly together, while he sinks into the armchair across from you.

For a moment, neither of you speaks. The tension in the room is palpable, stretching like a rubber band about to snap.

“Are you having an affair?” The words leave your mouth before you can second-guess them.

His eyes widen in shock, and his posture stiffens. “What? No! Y/N, how could you even think that?”

“Because you’ve been pulling away from me for months,” you say, your voice cracking despite your best efforts to keep it even. “You miss every appointment, you don’t care about the wedding, and you keep leaving your ring on the counter like it doesn’t mean anything to you.”

Joshua’s face falls, and he runs a hand through his hair. “Y/N, I swear, it’s not that. Work has just been—”

“Don’t,” you say, cutting him off. “Don’t blame this on work. Be honest with me, Joshua. Do you even want this anymore?”

His silence is deafening.

“I—” he starts, then stops, his gaze dropping to the floor. “I don’t know.”

You feel like the air has been knocked out of your lungs. “You don’t know?”

“We’re so young, Y/N,” he says finally, his voice quiet but firm. “I love you, I do, but... I don’t know if I’m ready for this. For marriage. For forever.”

You stare at him, the weight of his words sinking in like stones in your chest. “You don’t feel it anymore,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper.

He looks up at you, guilt written all over his face. "I don’t know what I feel anymore."

The tears sting, but you refuse to let them fall. "I stayed here for you, Josh," you say, the words breaking free before you can stop them. "I left everything—my family, my friends, my life—just to be with you. And now you’re telling me you don’t even want this anymore?"

Joshua’s expression falters. He opens his mouth, but no words come out. His silence cuts deeper than any answer could.

“Then let’s break up,” you say firmly, the words tasting bitter on your tongue.

“Y/N, I—”

“No,” you say, standing up. "If you don’t want this, then we’re done. I can’t keep fighting for both of us."

He opens his mouth again to speak, but the words don’t come. He just nods, looking down at his hands.

“I’ll move out,” he says after a long pause.

“We’ll talk about it tomorrow,” you reply, your voice hollow, as if you’re already a stranger to him.

That night, he sleeps on the couch, and you lie in bed alone, staring at the ceiling, feeling the space between you grow wider by the second. The silence in your apartment is suffocating, and for the first time since you moved to California, you feel truly and deeply alone.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

The next morning, Joshua leaves for work as usual. His footsteps fade down the hallway, and the door clicks shut behind him. The apartment feels cold without his presence, but the tension, the weight of everything that’s happened, keeps you from feeling anything else.

You take a deep breath, steadying yourself, and begin packing your things. You leave behind the little things—the pictures, the mementos from your time together that once meant so much. The engagement ring stays on the counter where he left it the night before, untouched. You gather your essentials—clothes, toiletries, a few items that remind you of who you were before all of this. You’re doing this for you.

As you pack, the tears come, and you can’t hold them back. The weight of it all—the loneliness, the heartbreak, the way he’d stopped caring—finally crashes over you. You grab your phone and dial your mom’s number.

“Mom,” you choke out, barely able to speak through the sobs. "I—I can't... I can't do this anymore. I... I’m so lost."

You hear her soothing voice on the other end, muffled but full of warmth and concern. "Sweetheart, what happened? Where are you?"

“I—I'm in California, but I don’t want to be here anymore. I can’t do this alone. I... I left. I left him. I don't know what to do, mom."

Her voice softens, and you hear her take a deep breath. "Don't worry. You don't have to do it alone. I’ll book your tickets, I’ll get you home, okay?"

The relief that floods through you is overwhelming, but it doesn't stop the tears. Your mom insists on getting the earliest flight available, even going the extra mile to make sure you’re on the next plane out.

You hang up with her, still a mess, but knowing that, at least for now, you won’t be alone. You finish packing quickly, making sure to leave everything behind except what’s truly necessary. You wipe your eyes, trying to pull yourself together.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

By the time you finish, it’s still a few hours before Joshua will come home. You take one last look around the apartment—the place that was once filled with shared moments, warmth, and love. It now feels like a shell of something that used to be, cold and unforgiving. You make sure your essentials are packed, then head out the door, locking it behind you.

When Joshua comes home later that evening, he expects to find you resting, taking the nap you often took after a long day at work. He quietly enters the apartment, shedding his coat and bag, and makes his way to your shared bedroom. He pauses at the doorway, frowning as he notices the emptiness of the room.

There’s no sound of you resting, no gentle hum of your music. The bed is neatly made. A sharp unease twists in his stomach.

He turns toward the dresser, his eyes catching something familiar—something that doesn’t belong there.

It’s the love letter he wrote you years ago, the one you’d always kept in your wallet. The edges are frayed now from years of being carried close to your heart. It’s placed on top of the dresser, in the spot where you used to keep it safe, along with the ring he’d given you.

He picks it up, his hands trembling slightly, and unfolds the letter. The words are still familiar, and yet, they now feel like they were written by someone else.

His eyes scan over the message, the sincerity in his writing that once made you feel loved, now leaving him cold. He puts the letter back down slowly, the full weight of the situation settling in.

Joshua’s gaze moves to the counter, where the engagement ring lies, cold and unclaimed. The reality of it all hits him like a brick wall. You’re gone.

The apartment feels like a vacuum now, empty and silent. His throat tightens, but no words come. All the things left unsaid, all the moments missed, hang heavily in the air around him.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

The plane ride feels like an eternity. You’re sitting by the window, watching the clouds drift by, but your mind is a whirlwind of thoughts, doubts, and emotions that you can’t escape. It’s hard to breathe, to focus on anything other than the overwhelming emptiness that seems to have settled inside you.

Your phone buzzes constantly with messages, and you can’t help but check them. It’s Joshua.

Joshua: Where are you? Please, answer me. We need to talk.Joshua: Y/N, I’m sorry. Please come home. I can’t lose you.Joshua: I was wrong. I didn’t mean for it to end like this. Where are you?

Each message hits you like a punch to the stomach, but you know you can’t respond in the way he wants. You’ve made your decision, and no amount of begging can change the way you feel.

You almost find it funny, how little his words mean to you now that you had left.

You tap out a response, slow and deliberate, your hands trembling slightly as you type.

Y/N: I had to go. I’m sorry, Joshua. I wish you well. It's for the best.

You hit send and put the phone down, hoping he’ll respect your silence. The flight attendants come by, offering you a drink, but you don’t take it. You just keep your gaze fixed outside, the horizon blurring as you fight to keep it together.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

By the time you land and step off the plane, you can feel the weight of everything pressing down on you. You’re exhausted, emotionally drained, but there’s one thing you’re certain of: you made the right choice.

Your mom is waiting for you at the airport, her face full of worry and warmth. As soon as she sees you, she pulls you into a tight hug, and you collapse against her, tears streaming down your face. She doesn’t ask any questions. She just holds you, murmuring soft reassurances as she strokes your hair.

“I’m here, sweetheart. You’re home now. I’m here,” she whispers, and somehow, it makes everything feel a little less heavy.

The drive back to the house is quiet, the only sound being the hum of the tires on the road. You try to collect yourself, but the emotions keep rushing back, overwhelming you in waves. You know you’ll have to explain everything, but for now, all you want is to be wrapped in the comfort of your mom’s arms.

Once you’re home, she takes you straight to the living room and sits you down on the couch, making you a cup of tea. “Tell me what happened,” she says gently, her voice soft but insistent. “I’m listening.”

You take a deep breath, recounting everything—from moving to California, to the engagement, the wedding planning, and the slow unraveling of everything. You tell her about how Joshua had been pulling away, about how you tried to wait for him, tried to understand. You tell her about the ring left on the counter, the distance, the fighting, and finally, the breakdown of your relationship.

Your voice cracks as you speak, and she pulls you closer, wrapping an arm around you. “Oh, baby,” she murmurs, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “I’m so sorry. I know this isn’t easy. But you did the right thing. You deserve someone who’s all in, who’s going to love you fully, just like you deserve.”

You nod, wiping your eyes. You’re still so raw, but her words give you the strength to keep going.

As the night wears on, she handles everything for you. She cancels the wedding bookings—everything that had been set up for the wedding is erased. The vendors are contacted, the plans are halted, and you don’t have to worry about any of it. Your mom handles it all, taking the burden from your shoulders as you sit there, just trying to breathe.

When she finally gets off the phone with the last vendor, she sits next to you again, her hand resting on yours. “You’ll heal, sweetheart. And when you’re ready, we’ll figure it all out. But for now, just rest. You’re safe here.”

You close your eyes, resting your head on her shoulder, feeling the weight in your chest finally start to ease, if only a little. The pain is still there, but at least for tonight, you’re home.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

author's note 𝟅𝟈 lowkey wanna start a taylor swift songfic thing. i'm obsessed with this song so yk i had to write a fic based on it!

masterlist.

[nightmarexdove]

Special Specimen

Intro:

(Taking place before the raccoon city outbreak)

You are one of the best scientists working under the great virologist Albert Wesker, your a hard worker and that's something everyone knows. However, what people lack to understand is that you are working yourself into the ground weather it was to be noticed or to get back at your verbally abusive family Your mental health has begun to tumble due to your lack of self preservation and you are on the verge of loosing it, however- you are saved by the last person you would have guessed to come save you from your destructive behaviors.

Note

This is purely fluff! Wholesome (out of character?) Albert Wesker and how I personally depict him reacting to a well respected individual reaching there breaking point, I wanted to write sum' a little more on the softer spectrum of things. Apologies for any inconsistencies/poor writing or phrasing, I will continue to polish this fic before I eventually move onto making another one, all constructive criticism is greatly appreciated!!

TW: mention of poor mental health, past verbal abuse, mentions of alcohol

It wasn't like you to feel such intense waves of emotions, at least not like this. You were good at staying calm under pressure, hell some people would say your a master but it's seems as if the projects as of lately for you have begun to build up an immense pressure weighing on your back.

Your colleagues in the unbrella laboratory you worked at would've been paying close attention when you leased noticed it, your difficulty paying attention, the wandering stares into the void consisting of the white walls infront of you, your stuttering and lack of interest; These were little things that seemed to have been making there ways across the whole facility, making its way to your boss; The well respected and feared Albert Wesker.

You were always ontop of up-coming projects, always pushing yourself and always devoting overtime into the silence of the deep of the hours of night to study your findings and work to improve your ability to understand the things presented to you, even if it costed some hours of rest- To you it didn't matter even if you'd end up sometimes taking a nap at your work station, to say you were obsessed with being the best of the best was a understatement you had a passion- a drive to be just as intelligent as your boss the same man that inspired you to be a virologist in the first place.

You were on a journey not just for your company but you were also on a journey to prove your family wrong; That you could make it that you COULD be something in this life, you wanted to make the years of suffering worth it all that money poured into your golden education WOULD mean something and you gave it your blood, sweat, tears and health to be standing here right now.

But you could feel it, you felt it in your chest beat itself into your core with all the baggage it carried haunting you every night in which you'd spend hopelessly in your bed on the verge of tears wondering why you felt such a need to rip yourself apart like this, to overwork and fatigue yourself till your head sometimes was struck in throbbing pain. You were the best in the company, at least- one of the best why did that not feel enough for you? Why did that cold empty tunnel dug deep in your mind still linger like it had since your younger years?

"You'll never be that good, you lack intelligence."

"You can't even hold a conversation, what makes you think you can become a scientist?"

"Just like your father, you are just like him."

You hated it, the way it made you feel so worthless; "I have to be better"...You repeated in your mind, every minor mistake you'd ever make in the day you'd beat yourself up for it.

"Y/N, c'mon let's get outa here. It's already past-"

"I don't have the time I'm sorry, I know it's the weekend but you know how important this is to Doctor Wesker. Can't just leave these calculations unfinished, I don't want to get bitched at; That's all."

You'd say, hiding the exhaustion in your voice with a room temperature; half cup of burnt black coffee, a result of your lack of attention to the boiling pot earlier that morning.

"Y/N you look like your going to pass out."

They'd announce, there eyes contorted with worry as your figure kept slouched over your work station hair disheveled in a messy bun and somewhat shaky from the four cups of caffiene surging in your system your eyes gave away just how near to passing out you were as your eyelids gave away how heavy they were weighing by how desperate you fought the urge to let them fall and allow yourself to slip into a long long uninterrupted rest.

"Just let me work, I'm almost done anyways."

You'd say in the politest fashion you could muster, but it would role off your tongue in a more passive aggressive mutter. not wishing to speak on your lack of self preservation any further, you wanted to be done with this so you could hopefuly get a well night of rest, you could hear them; The hushed whispers of your colleagues listening to your snappy attitude, some would've laughed while others just turned the other cheek doing there damn best to mind there business.

Your colleague rolled there eyes in reaction to your lack of patience, they'd sway off nonchalantly in a manner that could only be seen as 'carefree' something you lacked.

As one by one your colleagues would disappear from the laboratory, you'd be stuck there once again below the flourescent lighting of the lab that would dim only a hour or so later. You'd stare down at your notebook full of numbers and equations and infront of you sets of testing tubes and a sample of black bile under your microscope sitting aside of your notebook, your mind was a fog a thick fog that clouded your every thought. The only sounds that would keep you company were the tapping of your pencil and the occasional sounds of beeping machinery around you, doubt swallowed you whole your eyebrows knotted together as a wave of distressing sorrow stormed your self control, the inability to think beyond the fog keeping you wrapped in incoherent ideas was tormenting and it infuriated you that a little sleep deprivation was causing you to behave like this.

You couldn't figure out a damn thing, the sample you were provided with was impossible to properly analyze you couldn't make a single conclusion without back tracking, without feeling stupid. You could hear your own voice shaping into the ones of your colleagues, into the one of your idol and family. It angered you- saddened you, you just could never feel adequate enough that you could never find yourself being recognized by the one person that's kept you sane for this long even if he's done little to take notice in you, you were delusional enough to think maybe- he would.

You could feel the cold gusts of air from the vents make your skin rise with goosebumps, your lab coat doing very little to keep you comfortable when your tears poured down on your hard work the pencil markings smudging as you'd whimper silently slumped on your hard, uncomfortable seat.

Slamming your fists harshly on the table in a fit of defeat you felt every emotion pour from your closet of self pity, the closet you'd never share the closet in which you'd spend your recent days glued in because your stubborn nature was the same force causing your downfall, causing you to feel like a piece of common rock amongst the gems untouched by man.

No one was here to hear you, no one to question you or comfort you or god forbid- laugh at you what lingered was just your usual lab equipment and computers.

You craved it, the arms of your boss no- your god caressing your shaking- tired body. You wanted to hear him with his voice in your ear, telling you JUST telling you that YOU were doing enough that YOU weren't the words you stabbed yourself with.

You were so lost in your own thoughts that- You wouldn't notice a hand ever so gently caressing your shoulder, it would make you jump rising from your seat in the slouched state you were quick to clean the stains of salty tears that ran down your cheeks.

Your eyes were a light red, irritated from the crying and lack of sleep.

When your head would peer up to the figure standing next to you, it took you by utter surprise to see wesker beside you staring down at you with those mysterious shades that always sat on his face.

"Crying in my laboratory again, dearheart?" Wesker inquired breaking the heavy silence between you two, his tone was soft and oddly gentle considering he was always such a stern; Serious man when interacting during the day it was a total shift in his personality that made you question his motives, you felt he didn't care about you; Hell you felt that you were just as disposable as all your other colleagues as much as you wanted to deny that. But to you it was worth the risk, Your parents asserted you as 'delusional' and 'childish' for ever thinking you could land a job at unbrella to start with, but you wanted to prove to the world you weren't the pinnacle of these nasty titles everyone in your family painted you with, even if you were delusional at least no one would question your mental superiority now.

"I'm so sorry Dr Wesker, I promise it won't happen again." You were quick to compose yourself, sniffling the build up of snot collecting in your nostrils that made it hard to breathe.

"Is that so?"

He asked after a moment of silence, reading you like the open book you'd been ever since you started here. He knew of your preformance better than anyone else, your work and efforts was something so fascinating to study unfold the ways you mumbled to yourself when you were so deep in thought the way you'd always try to present yourself with so much confidence to him when showing off your latest work you were always one of a kind, a ' special specimen ' to say the very least. Even if he didn't want to admit it he couldn't deny the feelings of admiration he had building for you. When you thought you were alone all those other nights where you'd cry in the isolation of the lab, he'd always be watching through the security cameras always watching how you pleaded shouted and sometimes even pulled at your hair how you'd always refuse your pushy colleagues that wanted to drink with you after work or how you'd always chew pieces of gum instead of taking lunch breaks or isolating yourself from everyone else in order to work better.

Perhaps he found you entertaining because he didn't quite understand your fussy nature, maybe it was because he wanted to see just how far your frustrations would take you, but the more that had became of these occurances the more curious he grew to find out the reasonings for you increasingly wreckless behavior even if it may have made you feel discomfort he WOULD hear from YOUR mouth regardless of what you wanted in the end.

"I'll be going now, I'm so sorry to waste your time like this. I'm sure you must be a very busy man."

You asserted, standing from your little stool chair. Once again, there you were cought totally off gaurd the firm grasp of his leather cladded hand wrapped around your wrist had you take a few glances at him in confusion your mouth gaping just enough to see your teeth and eyes wide like a deer cought in the headlights. His gaze just lingered locked on yours and you could see the dumbfounded expression on your face reflecting back on his shades but no matter how hard you searched his eyes could never be spotted through the pitch black lenses.

"I want an answer, why is it do I find one of my best scientists in such disarray?" He asked, his grip on your wrist not tightening or loosening.

Best...scientist...?

"Sir, with all due respect; I promise it's nothing." You tried your damned best to shrug it off, you've already damaged whatever good your image was. your silly problems wouldn't matter, you thought- "He's too busy to actually care" you'd chant those vicious lines to yourself until you'd find yourself being brought to the reality of the situation his oddly gentle tone wrapping your lonely heart in a metaphorical blanket.

"I won't stop until i get a answer Y/N." He persisted, gently tugging your arm his voice remaining in that calm voice that had you feeling a little unease, it was almost...uncanny. His tone warming you from the inside out.

You didn't have a choice at this point, you knew you'd only wear down his patience with your stubborn words of defiance, something you knew he despised yet here he was taking his sweet time with just another employee of his.

"I just need some time to think sir, I really just need to clear my mind that's all."

You tried to say, surely pushing his buttons when his grip would eventually tighten yanking your body sharply forcing you several steps closer to his body. Eyebrows furrowed and teeth grinding together, you could feel his own strings of self restraint and tolerance snap at your tenacious attitude, it was carefully making him regret coming to initiate any kind of talk with you and the longer you stalled the more time he believed to be squandering.

"If you don't tell me Y/N, I'll insure your time here will come to a swift end."

He threatened, your body was only a few centimeters away from his you could hear his gentle breathing and watch the way his chest effortlessly rised and lowered even through his gritted teeth and the sudden sharpness to his tone the way his threat carried out like a scalpel blade running through your thick skin of stubbornness didn't feel like it carried much real weight at all, but you would be lying if you didn't say it stung like a papercut.

That was enough to bring you to your senses, that crack of patience wearing itself out. The tiniest hint of that smirk ghosting across his cheek now weighing into a gentle scowl, your stomach felt a bit sick just realizing how far you pushed the man made you want to run away and hide forever, run away and just find a new fucking job that wouldn't make you feel such disdain every day. But that couldn't have been an option, you made your bed now you had to make peace and lie in it.

You felt the words pool at your throat, you didn't know where to begin or if you ever could in this moment your voice wanted to elaborate every sensation coursing through you but the only way you could speak is if you lost control of your ability to keep your tears restrained- which in ways you did.

"I just...I just don't feel like...I'm enough...I feel so hollow like...like I just can't...I CAN'T..." your words choked out as you'd hold back the many tears creating rivers of defeat down your cheeks.

You felt so tiny, so lost and disgusted with yourself for breaking down like this infront of your boss, you felt wesker's judgement weigh heavy on you in ways you couldn't describe it hurt in millions of ways letting your words tumble from your lips you felt embarrassed and ashamed and you were so prepared for the lecture of your life when you realized you couldn't stop yourself from blabbering on and on nonsense about your feelings.

After sometime of just listening to you in total silence, eventually wesker would've placed a gentle hand on your cheek cleaning away your endless stream of tears with his gloved fingers.

"I think I've heard enough..."

He said, his other hand gently snaked around your waist pulling you into a much closer embrace till your head was against his chest. For the time being; Watching you stain his expensive clothing didn't seem to bother him like you thought it would've, he didn't pay mind to when you'd sniffle and pant in a desperate attempt to calm down he'd just let you do what you wanted because even if he didn't entirely understand the ways you felt he did his best to pacify your heartache in one of the few ways he knew how.

His hand gently ran through your hair, taking slow steady deep breaths he was trying desperately to be patient doing his damn best to not treat you the same ways he did to everyone else because he truly couldnt bare the thought of pushing you off your limits. At this point you didn't realize the way your arms desperately held onto him like a child seeking validation from there parents your curled fingers wrinkling the back of his lab coat, your nose nuzzling mindlessly into his shirt.

"I'm so sorry sir...I'm so sorry I'm such a fuck up!" You whimpered with quivering lips, you hated this so much- you hated it yet here you stood, practically begging for the validation that was sitting at the back of his throat.

"Shh...it's quite alright, you've done enough. Your work is acceptional in ways I cannot begin to describe, its because of you this division is able to function."

He'd say, slow enough for you to take in every word and also because he was internally scrambling to find the best words to sooth you to begin with.

"Really sir? You think that?" You asked, your eyes hesitantly glazed up to meet his you searched desperately through those damn glasses to see even a minuit detail of his eyes to see through them so you'd know for certain his words weren't just bullshit being tossed at you to keep you quiet.

"I mean it, not many of your generation behave the way you do or work the way you do, It's not your fault so many people cannot reach the levels of success you've obtained. But it's wise for you to know; That you absolutely cannot abuse yourself just to prove a point, to prove your own theories right that you can go for hours working on crumbs of rest and still be the best version of yourself I know you are, because you are just..."

He could have let it slip, he could have said it 'could have simply cheapened your worth to the level of a specimen like he planned to in the beginning, but he'd once again bite his tongue he wouldn't let you hear that word he wouldn't let you become it...not now at least.

"Just a human."

He said, listening to your breathing slow and steady out.

You felt the warmth in his voice fill your empty glass heart, pouring water to keep it full and content. His words repeated in your mind like the record player in your room playing that one favorite song of yours on repeat keeping you company, his presence right here and now was like a light shining down a tunnel full of monsters keeping your fragile self safe keeping you from complete; Irreversible self destruction.

You could hear the hammering of his steady heart beat, it was a sound unlike any other like the bang of a drumbeat or the crackle of furious thunder. Taking in a deep breath the scent of his expensive cologne lingered in your senses while the exhaustion you would have been fighting off for so long would have been taking its course over your aching body and mind.

You couldn't deny his words, if he was telling you this there must've been a truth as for him to even talk to you like this for him to even hold you like this...it must've been something, you didn't have a reason to doubt yourself now not when his fingers gently patted your little head.

"Perhaps you should take your leave my dear, I'll finish where you left off."

He offered, no- he insisted. He wouldn't allow you to keep pushing yourself, to keep going the way you did and pull yourself into your own grave via overworking. He still needed you, he just couldn't let his most valuable asset fall into crumbling bits infront of him and not do a single thing about it.

"Ok..." you'd almost hesitate, it felt like you were letting go of a heavy burden and you almost felt ten pounds lighter just by saying that very simple word. You felt as if you'd regret it, that you'd find a way to overwork yourself again after this, because you had to prove yourself that you could be the best that you were worth this sacrifice of his own rest he was making.

Patting your shoulder, Wesker's lips curled into what seemed to have been a very soft, but present smile of reassurance.

It wasn't long till you'd find yourself in a deep state of rest on your mediocre bed, normally it took a while to get yourself comfortable in that old thing, but not tonight Your own fatigue was what maybe had blessed you, or cursed you because when you'd finally snap out of deep sleep. You'd realize that you had been at least running three hours late. Your hand brushed over to snatch your phone into your hand from the nightstand beside you, pressing the power button the numbers flashed at you reading exactly;

"10:35 AM."

Your stomach felt like it dropped, your small intestines felt as if they were being crocheted and your heart felt like it just exploded from a grenade of panic, your blood felt as if it just drained from every orifice and was replaced with embalming fluid.

You almost forgot about the disaster which was last night, the memories slowly cought up to you whilst you'd fumble with your clothing and hair. You didn't know what to feel, at least not yet you were sure to hear about it from your co workers and boss. I mean...The adult world was no different from your dreaded years of high-school, it didn't matter who was present and who wasn't because these walls had ears. Even if your little mental breakdown was a show for Wesker's eyes and ears only, you could only comprehend the possibilities of your name going around with vicious lies and jealousy, jealousy because it was you that got his attention more than anyone else in that lab.

As your painful heals clicked down the tile flooring to the main center of the lab, you'd use your badge to scan yourself through the doors and as they automatically open you would have been holding in a breath of air. Fear was all you could feel in that particular moment, fear and apprehension to move into the lab but you would've found yourself surprised at the lack of interest they payed to you there busy bodies and minds keeping up with way more important things than noticing your fashionably late presence.

"So you actually got some sleep for once? I don't think I've ever seen you look so well rested in months, jeez...you were starting to look like one of those damn testing subjects for a sec there! I was starting to get worried we would've had to contain ya at some point." Your colleague from yesterday, in a rather disturbingly lighthearted manner announced in his upmost obnoxious tone. Hell, you were surprised no one was talking about HIM or if they were; They were making a damn solid effort not being noticed in doing so.

To compare you to a victim of all those failed test runs took you aback, you weren't sure if maybe he just couldn't hear himself talk or if the alcohol he loved drinking was killing his braincells. You were certain it was, because what mentally sound individual can speak about those weeks of messy trials causing so much havoc so casually? And so jokingly?

All you could do at that moment was let out a very (noticeably) forced chuckle.

"Ya, I was able to catch some hours of sleep. Didn't expect it myself honestly, I'm going to start my work ok? I'm already late." You said with a nervous smile, passing by him in a hurry to get to your work station.

As you'd approach your work station sitting a bit away from the others, you noticed a crimson red bouquet of roses, a box of assorted chocolates and a black little box with a gold symbol ontop of it.

At first, you'd have to take a second glance at the station you hovered over to insure it was the right one, and sure enough it was. Looking at the roses, you had never been so confused before, your eyes investigated the people around you and wondered if there was a secret admirer lurking amongst the large group of fellow scientists. You questioned who in there right mind could possibly ever fall for someone like you? You were a hot mess that needed the hand of your BOSS to finish YOUR work , if that wasn't wreckless to you then you were lost.

Picking up the leather textured box, you'd carefully slip the lid off insuring that everyone could care less at that point to notice probably ignoring you in part because of your little lash-out towards that (well deserving) ignorant 'colleague' if you could call him one at all.

Once the lid slid off, your eyes widened in awe your lips parted as your fingers gently ran over the delicate metal. It was a rose gold bracelet, intricate details danced across the metal appearing as flowers that would have held little crystals in the centers to give the flower accents more appeal and elegance.

You didn't know who could spend this kind of money on some emotionally drained loner like yourself, you didn't deserve these gifts- not a bit. You felt that gifts should only be given, and not received. At least to you this was a philosophy you lived by, internally you felt a tinge of guilt. What if this was really for someone else and you were ruining a surprise never meant for your glassy eyes to begin with? The sender must've gotten mixed up with someone else, that was the only logical explanation.

You probably would've tucked the bracelet away in it's box and hurried in search for its more rightful owner if it wasn't for the black envelope hiding unmistakably under the bouquet of intricately placed roses that were bunched up together by a red bow.

Pulling the envelope to closer inspection, you could see your name written in cursive in what seemed to be a fountain pen.

Yea, this was for you. It wasn't some poor misplacement by any means, your curiosity couldn't have been contained all thoughts of your work was pushed to the side to study this letter and its contents.

Opening the letter, your eyes followed the cursive handwriting staining the light colored beige paper. It would have read;

"Dear Y/N, I have scheduled a private conference between you and I.

You are expected to reach my office at 6:00 PM sharp, I wish to see you in your best attire and wearing this bracelet I've personally chosen for you for this appointment.

Do Not Keep Me Waiting

Signed

A.W"

You weren't sure how to react, you weren't sure weather you should pinch yourself because your whole body became weightless reading those words. You could imagine his velvety tone of voice saying this to you, you were so lost by that letter that you didn't realize the stupid grin growing on your flush red cheeks. Your boss, a conference with you? The vague way of his wording could have meant anything; A promotion, a simple chat, maybe even a date. You wouldn't know until later, way later. But you were willing to wait, you were willing to work the time away until you'd reach the deadline of yet another day.

Wesker could only watch through the cameras, your bright toothy grin, your dreamy eyes and the way you moved with excitement and anticipation in your seat. Even if you didn't work the same way you normally did, Wesker was still cought up in your little antics your attempts at staying focused on your piling tasks was a bizarre delight that he indulged shamelessly in, because to him you were his

special human being.

[jimblejamblewritings]

riddle means misery | part 12.

Summary: Y/N Riddle. Not much more has to be said. Everyone hates her. She’s evil... she has to be.

Warnings for the Series: 18+, this series is dark. Manipulation, dubcon verging on noncon, abuse of power, violence, ed mentions, death, blood

Pairing: Bill Weasley x black!reader 

Word Count: 1.5k

A/N: one more part left because I think there should be a sweet smutty scene to bring closure but as you can tell, the series is coming to its end

Previous Part | (Series Masterlist)

About a month or so later Bill came by with lunch like he always did, a little surprised to see various students in your classroom. Unfortunately that included all of his siblings that still went to Hogwarts. He awkwardly held up the bag. 

“It’s three cup chicken and some brownies for dessert. We’ve officially finished that cookbook, time for another.” 

“Thank you, just set it up and I’ll go wash my hands.” 

“Sounds great.” 

Bill tried to keep his back to your students as much as possible. The two of you hadn’t really told anybody about the new update in your relationship. Not even Molly or Arthur. There wasn’t much to tell. You were very unsure of how you wanted it to go and Bill was very respectful of that. He held your hand whenever he felt like it. And, because you said that you liked it, he gave you hugs all the time. Of course, his siblings didn’t care about any of that. They immediately came up to him and started asking questions. 

The rest of your students left when you ushered them out but the Weasleys, Potters, and Lupins didn’t. They had been working on a very elaborate plan to make all of them family which involved setting Tonks up with Charlie to connect the Weasleys to the Lupins who are already connected to the Potters by way of Sirius having been officially adopted by the Potters all those years ago. If you were with Bill then that added you a lot easier than whatever they were thinking of. Ginny leaned on your desk. 

“Professor, Bill won’t answer our questions. Are you two dating?” 

Your boyfriend looked over at you. Bill had no idea how much you wanted people to know. He was okay with keeping a low profile. A smile involuntary crossed his face when you nodded and his siblings squealed. Confirming your relationship was the first big step for you. The children ran out of the classroom with excitement, definitely going to go tell their parents and potentially all their other friends. Ron came running back. 

“I take back everything I said. You are so not an older me, Harry, and Hermione. I could never date her, that’d be weird.” 

You and Bill chuckled as he left once more. Bill came up behind you, hugging you tightly. You turned so you could bury your face in his chest for a moment. Sometimes it was rough to just let go around Bill. There was still always a little thought that everything would come crashing down at any moment. He had been nothing but good to you. However, you were still worried. Bill felt your head move and looked down to see you staring at him. 

“What’s wrong, love?” 

“Will you please kiss me?” 

Bill gave you a small smile before leaning down. He knew that he was your first kiss ever and was careful to keep it soft and sweet. His lips just barely brushed against yours before he closed the small gap. Bill’s hands slowly moved up your body to hold your face.

“Relax, Y/N. I got you, love, okay?” Bill murmured against your lips. 

You let yourself relax like he said, melting into the way he gently caressed your face. Rather reluctantly, Bill pulled away. He pressed a quick peck to your lips before suggesting that you both eat lunch before it gets cold. The two of you kept inching closer to each other as you ate until you were practically in your boyfriend’s lap. Bill rubbed small circles on your back and thighs. Kissing you was even better than he thought it would be. He was happy that the first kiss you got was a nice one. He leaned over to kiss you again when he noticed how you kept staring at his lips, too afraid to ask him to kiss you again. 

Even before dating, Bill had gotten pretty good at reading your tells. You tried as hard as possible to verbally communicate your needs to the people around you so they didn’t have to play guessing games. But sometimes it was hard. You were still a bit scared to approach people and ask questions. And even if you weren’t capable, you always did stuff by yourself first instead of asking for help. 

No one ever pushed. The progress you had made in only two years of being free— less considering you were taken back to St. Barney’s for a few months before the trials had started— was incredible. The fact that you actually talked to people was good enough for them. 

The Marauders and everyone else had been thinking about it. If they had been tortured since being a first year at Hogwarts an it didn’t stop until their thirties, they weren’t sure they would handle it as well as you seemed to be. Still, some days were better than others. On your worst days, you were barely able to teach and wouldn’t speak outside of a lesson. That was usually when you stayed in your room the entire day. When you would get home, Bill would make tea and get you a blanket and just sit next to you. If you wanted to cuddle then he was more than glad to provide that. If you just sat on the couch until you fell asleep then he would carry you to your bedroom and just hope that the next day was a better one. 

Bill pressed a final kiss to your forehead before leaving to get back to his job. He liked the new addition to your routine and was happy to give forehead and cheek kisses whenever. He still waited for you to ask or for him to notice you looking at his lips before fully kissing you. Sometimes, he’d ask outright but didn’t want to do it often for fear of your feeling pressured. 

Instead of meeting you for lunch in your classroom, Bill came into the Great Hall. He was followed by Lily, Dorcas, and another Ministry employee. With great care, they explained that the Ministry was asking to speak with you. Living history was what the Order of the Phoenix had become. 

Dumbledore had a whole section in the Hogwarts’ Library about him. Mad-Eye had a few thick books himself. As the object of Voldemort’s prophecies, the Potters and Longbottoms also got their own books. Everyone else was mentioned in chapters of textbooks, newspaper articles, several radio and tv interviews. Everyone but you. The actual you. 

Books had been taken out of production and re-edited, newspaper articles were updated to state the information was incorrect, recorded interviews had the parts that mentioned you redacted. Written history had to be changed. It had to show that you were always on their side and paid a terrible price because of everyone’s judgment.  

Dorcas handed you the letter. “It doesn’t have to be a book, it can be whatever you’re comfortable with.” 

“You can always say no, Y/N,” Bill reminded you. “If it’s too much, you don’t have to. They still have your trial recordings they can use. You don’t have to do anything.” 

“I don’t really want to speak with anyone,” you admitted. 

“Okay.” Lily nodded. “Would you like to at least review the book before it goes into print? Confirm everything’s correct.”

You agreed to that bit, not willing to let anyone paint you in a bad light again. Everyone but Bill left. He didn’t have time to stay for lunch because of a curse-breaking mission he had to go on. Your boyfriend set a small gift on the professor’s table. 

“Mum wants to know if we’re coming for Christmas. I said it’s up to you.” 

Naturally, you agreed. Visiting Molly and Arthur was always a good time for you. You loved how warm and cozy the Burrow was. Bill leaned all the way over the table to peck your lips before running out to get to his job. The Marauders watched the small smile appear on your face as you brought the little gift closer to you. A gasp left your mouth and you wanted to go run and hug your boyfriend but he was already gone. It was a pearl necklace. You picked up the little card that came with it. 

I remember you looking at something like this a while ago. Couldn’t afford the whole set right now without dipping into our budget but I wanted to get you something nice. I’ll see you later, love. 

The necklace was a single pearl on a pendant but it was beautiful. You were always excited to see Bill but you were going to be a bit more excited when he finally got home. Your boyfriend was starting to be a really bright spot in your life.

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[casperleghosty]

Daycare SAGAU start idea

(This Idea is now living rent free in my grey mass I call a brain, do what ever u want from this intro fanfic idk might make more, but since its 1AM here i need my sleep, see ya later :P)

  It was a sunny day in Tyvat, the land of the world's largest rpg, which for some reason decided to suck you in so you could live the rest of your now immortal life surrounded by your so-called acolytes, showering you with affection and adoration to no end.

  Not that you mind being a Gen Z teen; just being on the verge of adulthood sounded difficult enough, but now? You get to have tea with Diluc and Zhongli, who are both great company; play pranks with Itto and Venti when you don't want to attend those boring asses meetings all day since they want the so-called blessed knowledge from their grace; eat and cook with Xiangling; and more! 

  At this moment you were attending to one of those meetings at the time, but this one was different because the ones that bore you like a math book where your teacher just keeps repeating the same shite over and over are for the high-ups, let's say, such as leaders, or sometimes, when times are tough, even the archons attend to help you out. 

  But this one?

  It was a public one in which the townsfolk of the nation you are visiting come together so you can help them out, be it with little fights over who did this or that or plans to expand or better the city or village so they could live better and have a more promising next generation, it was a great opportunity for the people to be in the same place as their beloved golden sun, in the most beautiful garden of their great palace, where their god generously let them in to enjoy the scene of the wonderful smell of the vast collection of flowers and calm scenery while they wait for their turn to present their struggles to their grace.

 �� "Next please." One of your ladies in waiting said this while another poured some tea into your cup for you to sip on; it was a hot day, and they didn't want you to go thirsty while attending to your duties outside. 

   "Good morning, dear one blessed by the sky above, I hope you could help this servant of yours in need of thy help," said a woman dressed in a green gown with floral designs. The woman said she clasped her hands together and looked at the foot of your chair, not daring to glance at her creator without consent.

   "Good morning to you too, my child. What can I help you with, dear one?"

   "My liege, please hear mine and my village's sorrows; we've been having crop problems and are afraid we won't be able to feed ourselves; please, dear grace from above, lend us some of your merciful tears above our land, and help these servants grow and prosper in the ground you've given us." She pleaded

   You were about to respond softly when you felt a tug on your slippery robes and saw a child no older than a five-year-old. Said child looked up and said, "Please help us, mama is worried so much, now mama doesn't smile like she used to." 

   Silence

   Everything came to a halt as the mother of said child tried not to shake in so much fear; how could she have been so careless, allowing her child to come so close to you, have the audacity to even touch you, or speak to you so casually? 

   "Please forgive me for abusing your sacred boundaries our grace!" She exclaimed, "I'll take any punishment you see fit to give me for my carelessness!"

   Glancing at the child and at the mother, seeing the adult so scared for no reason made you giggle, confusing the guests and your servers alike. I mean, getting punished for a cute little kid like this, what in the world was in the heads of these people?

   Piking up the child from beneath their arms, you let the little girl sit on your lap, bob your legs up and down, making a rocking motion, the child laughing, which made your heart melt. I mean, how could you not? The kids' cheeks were so fat you just wanted to squish them!

   "So your mama is all worried she can't smile much, huh?" You asked, "We need to make her smile a lot now, don’t we?" You said, making the child's eyes light up with joy, "Can you make mama happy again?" and "Sure you can, here." You said grabbing a bit of the water that had been heated up from the tea your maids were making, making it float and evaporate into a fluffy white cloud, and giving said cloud to the child, "This is a magic cloud; it will make your mama and everyone happy for a very long time, sweetpea," you said, placing the child down and nudging her back to her mother.

   Said child hugged you, saying "thank you" into your body, making it sound a bit muffled before running to her mother's arms. "Look, mama, the cloud is so soft and fluffy!" her child said with a huge smile on her face.

   "Thank you so much, dearly beloved! Oh, thy heavens' grace are so kind!" the woman exclaimed, bowing down with tears in her eyes, and then the mother and child returned, bringing the day of this meeting to an end.

   It was a good day. There wasn't much to solve besides that problem with almost no rain in that woman's village, and after a while of replaying the moment of the child in your arms, it made you think, maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea to have a playground in that garden? If there were any parents that had to take their children with them for those meetings , they are bound to get bored, so why not? 

   And so next morning you told your servants to build a playground for the children, one in each of the palaces you own across all of Teyvat, so that if you were visiting other nations, the kids would have endless fun no matter where they were from!

   Plus, it could be a good distraction from all the formalities because, let's be honest, these people sometimes don’t know how to relax around you.

[bluebunf]

I’m here for you!💚🐀

Dolores finds bruno in the back garden, a trowel in hand

"Hey tio bruno"

He looks up to her he was kneeling down, carefully patting the soil.

"Oh, hey dolores, what's up? Here to ask me about what's gonna happen next in the next episode?" He joked a small playful smile grew and a bit of his sense of pride. He then brings upself up to her level, patting down the dirt and dust He accumulated from caring for isabelas plants. He grew to like them as well.

"No, not today. I uhh.. I have a question for you."

"OH! Okay shoot"

"How do you deal with... knowing everything?" She asks, fingers twiddling.

"What do you mean? I don't know everything..." He said as he chuckled lightly, trying to cover up his rising nervousness

"No, I mean.. like how do you deal with everything when you know things..." she said, her voice more hushed as she looked at the ground guiltily

Brunos expression on his face softens, though a prominent look of worry stays.

His right arm reaches for his left, squeezing it. An act he does when he's really nervous. A moment of silence settled between them. Bruno doesn't know how to answer the question without sounding melancholic. And dolores doesn't know what to do with herself, the awkward atmosphere is making her regret asking the question, but more so she doesn't know what to do with his answer, in fear that it would be the same response, everyone's been giving her for the past 16 years.

"Listen kid, i- I don't know. And I know it sounds like a pathetic excuse, but if you mean every 'thing' as in things we aren't supposed to know, then, I really don't. Each vision I see holds a different sense of weight, especially depending on each situation and per person it's for. And for me at least, I didn't really take majority of the things I see well, and neither did the people who would ask for one..." He whispered the last bit out.

"Throughout my lifetime I've sabotaged every friendship, every relationship, every possibility of happiness formyself because I thought that I didn't deserve it nor would it last long... seeing other people's futures affected how I saw mine." He trails off, his heart beating out of his chest.

Dolores looks intently at him, her doe eyes on the verge of tears, not out of pity, but out of empathy. She knows what it feels like. Being labeled as the towns chismosa, not many people would really approach her because of it, at least not outside of formalities and niceties. Not many friendships or relationships felt genuine to her. As such she hasn't really been in a deep rooted friendship with anyone, outside of her family. She was merely a messanger at most, bringer of both good news and bad.

"For some reason, my brain developed a sense of thinking where I would search for a reason to cut ties with someone. As if it's inevitable and no one is capable of keeping me as their friend... and maybe even a brother or a son..." He sighs

"My room reflected on how I felt so heh... as if each step is my room is a metaphorical step a person needed to take to get close to me and I think it was a way for me to get back at myself too and lo and behold it decided to punish my legs," He slaps jokingly slaps his legs, "well look at these bad boys, great for always running away from everything" He laughs dryly at his own dark joke, still avoiding eye contact.

Dolores tries her hardest to choke back her tears. She never really heard her tios side of the story before, at least the in depth one.

"I-I'm sorry I didn't mean to-"

"Its okay tio, I'm listening."

He sighs. Again, the atmosphere maybe thick and heavy but he's starting to feel lighter inside.

“To really answer your question: I haven't. I haven't learned how to deal with the things I see. Well I have, but not well. And that's why I'm going to help you try and deal with these things now." He huffs and turns to dolores, who's softly sobbing.

His right hand on her shoulder and left bringing her chin up, so they see eye to eye.

"Hey, kiddo, you don't have to cry for me," He softly smiles on his face "I appreciate it, but let's save those tears for happy moments instead. I didn't mean to make you cry with my sad of a life sob story, but I wanted to let you know that you're not alone. Please, keep asking me these questions, no matter how uncomfortable I am, cause that's why I'm here for! To guide you, to help nurture you... something I've missed out on for ten years. For you and your siblings and cousins. So I'm going to try really really hard to be the best uncle I could be... though please lower your expectations cause it's really been a while and I'm still kinda getting used to the whole-" He was cut off with dolores crying on his chest. He gently pats her head.

"I've always told myself to be grateful. To appreciate the fact that I have a gift unlike mirabel, or that I didn't have to worry about being perfect in every single aspect of mylife like Isabela. T-that I should feel blessed that I'm useful to my community and my family. But everytime I try and go out there I freeze up. As If I'm stepping out of the boundaries made for me. That all I am is a messenger. The person who hears everything. EVERYTHING. But must filter through noise and whispers. A burden that I must carry alone considering that im supposed to keep it all in as to not tip the balance of our community, of peoples relationships and to keep me from being ostracized from one. Mama and abuela always told me that I shouldnt eavesdrop on people nor should I tell people what I hear, unless asked, but even then, there are special social rules that has to be met to even tell those who have asked. I can't just tell everyone who asks. It took me so, so long to even trust myself enough to tell others about the things I hear. It hurts to keep things inside all the time. I don't want the weight of the burden of simply knowing something to hang over me. It's so heavy." She puts her hands over her ears, thr floodgates of her thoughts bursts out after years of trying to keep everything at bay. 16 years of confusing thoughts. Ups and downs and uncertainty.

"You've stayed strong, hija" He hugs her tight and pats her head. She continues to cry on brunos chest, small hiccups and heaving chest and all.

After a few minutes she slowly calms down and takes a small step back and looks into her tios eyes.

"After you left, everytime I would come up in a conversation, they would always give this deafening silence, and a look as if to say 'don't end up like your tio bruno'... and-and, " her tears started flowing again

"And they would just tell me to be better, to be a madrigal... that I have to be better for the sake of everyone... and I know that I'm not the only one that feels this way. My brothers and my cousins have been told the same thing, one way or another, and-and the fact that after all that, we find out that you left because you wanted to protect mirabel... I'm so sorry tio"

Brunos eyes start to water, but tries to cough it away, he has to be stronger for neice right now.

"Its okay dolores, thank you. I know it must've been hard to keep me a secret for 10 years too. And I know that you know your mama and abuela didn't mean to put that kind of pressure on you. It took a while, but having everything out and the open... having us become more open... it really helps. We're all healing and we're all processing as a family." He says as he takes her hand, a sign on trust and support.

Dolores smiles, some tears still left in her eyes. She takes a big breath in. And let's it all go.

—————————————————————————————————————————————————————-

I love making hc and scenarios with how bruno would interact with his family post movie. I’ve always loved the idea that bruno and Dolores have specific challenges, due to their sensory gifts and they turn to each other and help each other out. Also!!! I b peeping ppl genuinely villainizing dolores and it just breaks my heart cause she is really just trying. My pretty bby deserves love 🥺. Also I love angst, so pls expect more angst from me hehehe

[clatterbane]

Coming back to this post when I'm less completely done. Yeah, about that weird hormone shit.

I have seen enough discussion and ranting about this among other T1s, but honestly haven't wanted to give that close attention. It hasn't been relevant, and I just really didn't even want to think about it. Seems like that might be enough explanation, right there--and the first day is apparently the craziest for a lot of people.

But yeah, I managed to get my first period since 2020--and noticed this when I popped to the bathroom before the procedure. Extra good thing I came prepared with pads anyway, for the even more offputting reason that the anesthesia isn't great for bladder control. Even peeing right before they take you back for a quick procedure, you can wake up disgustingly (and embarrassingly) damp. But yeah, double reason for precautionary measures this time, as it turned out!

I had several days of suspiciously sore boobs and other related shit that felt entirely too familiar beforehand. But, I was really hoping that wasn't why.

I guess the extended break might well have had more to do with malnutrition after all, though I was really hoping that age might also have something to do with it--and maybe it just wouldn't come back. But yeah, here we are. That would have been too easy.

It should maybe be noted that, judging by my mom and apparently grandmother, the "menopause already plz??!" hope did look at least 10 years premature.

What is actually crap funny in a way is that, as bad as I had dreaded the prospect of it coming back to the point of at least one nightmare about it? So far, it's not looking nearly as bad as I came to expect. (And took grey-market continuous pills for years to try and keep at bay, it was so fucking miserable.)

Only stopped taking them during the Septic Slump ketoacidosis incident, when I couldn't physically get up to take anything, or probably keep any medicine down either. It just never started up again until now, and I really didn't care why. Just hoped it wouldn't come back again.

So far, at least, nothing that ibuprofen hasn't kept tolerable. Not currently on the verge of vomiting or passing out, and no signs of serious flooding yet. I have not been experiencing any suicidal thought loops wanting to get away from what my body is currently doing. Can't help but feel like I'm just here waiting for the other shoe to drop, but I guess we'll see.

But yeah, I am also feeling a little more hopeful (along with a tangled mess of other things), after seeing it come up in some other discussions how out of control sky high blood sugar can seriously fuck you up as bad as thyroid problems in that department.

It would be darkly funny as hell in its own way if the outright negligence/malpractice around the diabetes had indeed been largely responsible for the escalation of Cramp Hell and all the rest too.

[Gonna have to start sending this chart to people when they ask what affects my blood sugars]

[crumbledcastle28]

Chapter 1: a tug

Warnings: PTSD, sadness, depression, panic attack, mentions of violence

Author’s note: this is part one of my series called “Burning Red.” This is kind of boring because it is a set up for the main storyline, but I hope you enjoy it! Any constructive criticism and support is greatly appreciated. And if I missed a warning, please let me know!!

After everything you’ve seen, everything you’ve done, everyone you’ve hurt, it felt good to just lay low.

A mechanic on tatooine was not what you imagined, but it did the trick.

No one saw you for who you truly were, and that made you happy.

Well, except for Peli.

You came to her sick and angry and alone, and she nursed you back to health. You would be rotting in the desert if it wasn’t for her, and you felt you owed her a little something.

So, you used your “uncommon” set of abilities to help her with her mechanics in any way she needed.

This included: cooking, cleaning, repairing, negotiating, and most importantly, defending.

Peli was no dummy. She knew you had more experience in that field than she did. So she recruited you, and paid you back with whatever she had laying around. A new outfit once and a while, a warm bed, a hot dinner, and a couple of credits so you could go shopping and get out of her hair.

You couldn’t blame her. You were a hell of a lot of trouble to be around.

Constant nightmares, paranoia, and regret surrounded your aura like a fog. Any normal person wouldn’t notice, but someone like Peli could. And it pissed her off a good majority of the time.

“Stop moping and help me clean this oil off my droid,” and sentences like this one, were said pretty frequently around your place.

Was it even your place? All you did was survive. Is that enough to say you lived there instead of just survived there?

You really liked Peli. She gave you a base. A “home” of sorts, and for that you were forever indebted.

But something in you always called you back to your real home, and that scared you more than Peli’s tough love. More than you could even describe.

~~*~~

It was a pretty normal day on Tatooine. The wind howled, the sand covered everything in its wake, and the heat. You would never get used to it.

You were eating your breakfast when a ship landed on the landing pad, and you could already tell it was a doosey just by the way the left engine was sputtering.

If this ship explodes, we better get a damn good pay, you think to yourself.

The ramp starts to open and you take that as your queue to start the walk to your makeshift room. It was really a storage room, but you didn’t mind.

When you get there, you squat down to the ground behind your door and grab your apron and set of tools. You knew Peli would need some help with this ship.

You hear the ship’s ramp hit he ground and you feel it.

A tug.

Not even a tug, a lurch. It felt like a rope had been tied to your soul and pulled you back into your old self.

This was a tug you hadn’t felt in so long. So long, it almost knocks you off your feet.

I closed myself off from this, you think. I shouldn’t feel this. I don’t want to feel this.

You already feel a headache coming on from the shock and ache in your bones, so you start walking back to the landing pad to tell Peli you aren’t feeling too well.

If I get recognized, we are both dead.

You’d rather get a scolding from Peli than a scolding hot gun wound in your chest.

“Hey,” you hear Peli shout at the client, and you pick up your pace. Your heart is hammering in your chest and you feel the panic ooz through your body.

It’s been so long since you’ve felt this, but you hate how it makes you feel alive.

You finally make it to Peli and you see her speaking very loudly (she doesn’t like to use the word “yelling”) at what seems to be your client.

But this is no ordinary client. This is a Mandalorian.

A very broad Mandalorian who, no offense to Peli, could knock her out in his sleep.

You had heard legends of their kind. But worst of all, you had fought them. And damn were they good.

You hadn’t seen any since the purge. You had heard rumors of them hiding under ground, but they had always been peaceful people. You hated how they got dragged into a war.

“You damage one of my droids, you’ll pay for it,” Peli says, and you really wish she would use a more peaceful tone.

The last thing you want to do right now is fight a very impressive looking Mandalorian covered entirely in beskar while your entire body is tingling.

Is he the one who is force sensitive?

“Just keep them away from my ship” he says, and you are surprised at how well he is taking Peli’s annoyance.

“Yeah? You think that’s a good idea?” Peli responds in a tone dripping with sarcasm and you take this as your moment to try to sneak away.

This however, was unsuccessful.

“Come on y/n. Let’s take a look at his ship,” she says and the Mandalorian turns his helmet towards you.

You probably look like an absolute mess. Your chest is heaving, you are sweating, and you are not at all prepared to do any sort of repairs. You are basically in your pajamas. The Mandalorian’s gaze has you nervous enough, but this familiar feeling in your stomach has you dizzy and nauseous.

Just hold on......

You start to follow Peli to the ship while still looking at the Mandalorian. You learned very early on in your life to never take your eyes off a predator. He follows your form and you try your best to mask his incredibly strong force connection gripping your chest.

This man isn’t even trying to hide it? It’s almost as if he is reaching for me?

You make it to Peli where you finally take your eyes off of him. You can see why Peli was so mad now.

“Oof! Look at that,” she says as she scans the ship with her eyes. “You’ve got a lot of cabron scoring up top. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were in a shoot out.”

Oh my God, he was in a shoot out.

This is really not good. This man could have been followed and you could be surrounded at this very moment. You were a skilled fighter, but those kinds of odds were almost unbeatable. Especially when you were still trying to hide your identity.

You are so tense you feel like you could snap. You still feel his eyes on you, and you are praying to whatever is out there that you can just stay alive. That’s the only thing you’re good at.

“Name’s Peli Motto. That’s y/n,” she says as she points to you with her wrench.

She did not just tell him your NAME.

“This is my operation. You’re not gonna find a better mechanic on the planet,” she says as she leaned in closer to the engine.

“Yeah, I’m gonna have to rotate that. You’ve got a fuel leak. Look at this, this is a mess. How did you even land?”

All you wanted to do was scream.

He is a MANDALORIAN who was just in a SHOOT OUT. He is probably being FOLLOWED and we could be dead because of ME.

“That’s gonna set you back,” she says.

She is concerned about MONEY right now?

Peli is a smart woman, but she was walking you into a trap. You didn’t want her blood on your hands. You didn’t need any more of that.

All of this is happening while you are still on the verge of a panic attack.

This Mandalorian is strong with the force. It is squeezing your lungs and your feet and your hands and your brain. All rational thinking is out the window. You had to get out of here before he manages to suffocate you.

God you hate this feeling. A few years ago you lived with this constantly. It became a part of you. Something you enjoyed. But now...

“I’ve got five hundred imperial credits,” the Mandalorian says.

Imperial credits. Great. How did he get his hands on those?

“That’s all you got? Well..” she says and looks back at you.

“What do you think,” she asks in a teasing tone.

You try to plead to her with your eyes. You are sweating beyond belief and your brain is about to explode.

She tightens her brows in confusion at your state, but continues to bargain.

“That should at least cover the hanger,” she says and you feel your jaw almost drop to the floor.

How can she not see it?

“I’ll get you your money,” the Mandalorian mumbles and you try to take a deep breath. Passing out in front of one of the fiercest warriors in the galaxy who may be here to kill you would rip off the last bit of pride you had left. If you are going down, you are going down with a fight.

“I’ve heard that before,” Peli responds and looks at you in a joking way. Like she was trying to coax you into laughing with her.

You try to chuckle back, but it just comes out in a low breath.

You sound insane.

“Just remember—,” the Mandalorian starts

“No droids. I heard ya,” Peli finishes.

“Why do you think I keep this girl around,” she says chuckling with a pat on your back.

You muster up the strength to smile and feel holes burning in your head from the Mandalorian’s gaze.

He really knows how to stare.

The Mandalorian leaves the hanger, and it takes everything in you not to pass out right there.

You thought with him leaving it would die down, but it’s only getting worse.

“Are you ok,” Peli asks and helps you lower yourself to the ground.

You are breathing frantically now and your hands are clutched to your chest.

“He has it,” you say and you know Peli knows what you mean.

She looks at you with wide eyes and you see the realization on her face.

“Oh my god.... he was in a shootout,” she says.

“Uh huh,” you breathe out. The desperate force connection is starting to fade and you feel your lungs fill up with air once more.

“He could have been followed! Or he could be here to—“

“Kill us,” you say. Peli hates when you finish her sentences, but there was no point in caring right now.

“Ok. Get inside. If I need you I will call for you,” she says and you nod, slowly getting to your feet.

You start to walk back to your room, with Peli’s arms guiding you, while taking deep breaths, but you freeze when you sense something else coming out of the ship and you snap your head to the ramp.

“What,” Peli says as she follows your gaze.

Your heart flutters. The force is slowly starting to ease its nasty grip on you.

If you didn’t sense the creature, you would miss it.

A little green baby, wrapped in what looked like a potato sack, was strolling down the ramp, looking directly at you.

“It’s him,” you say.

“He has it.”

[whaleofatjme1920]

Coughing in the Bathroom (Eyeless Jack X F!Reader)

🌸 Coughing in the Bathroom

[Eyeless Jack X F!Reader]

[Warnings: Slight blood, slight language, slight alcohol, emotional cheating]

Part 2

        In the world you live in, there’s a terrible thing called ‘Hanahaki Disease,’ and while it is ultimately rare, it is still feared widely throughout the globe. Love is an emotional virtually everyone feels, and it is through that monetary softness that the disease may take root. It affects those whose love is unrequited. 

        Five years ago, you never thought you would be under its spell. 

        The first time you met Eyeless Jack was a mess of combined hot headedness and a ‘my horse is bigger than yours’ type of deal. He was so brash and such a know it all! How could you NOT butt heads with him? The two of you spawned a little rivalry, and that rivalry grew to love. 

        How could you not fall in love with him? He’d been everything you’d ever wanted, and in your line of work, that’s hard to find. You’re what’s known as an ‘independent,’ someone who does not work directly under the Slender Man, but often crosses paths with him due to common goals and your abilities. While there is nothing inherently supernatural or otherworldly about you, you do have the gift of clairvoyance. Your clairvoyance isn’t super special, as you’re only prone to glimpses of the future based on current actions and what might (you are the world’s greatest predictor). 

        Jack IS supernatural. He’s not human, calls himself ‘a demon of some sorts.

         The Slender Man saw potential in the two of you from your rivalry and decided to put the two of you together. It was that proximity that led him to falling helplessly, hopelessly, and ardently in love with you. 

        You never saw that coming. 

        Jack had told you he loved you when the two of you had just finished some of the grossest work you’ve done to date. He didn’t want to go back to the safe house the two of you had been holed up in with various other independents and instead urged you to hang out on the roof with him. 

        “Why are you rummaging through their fridge?” You asked, hands resting on your hips with a smile on your lips. 

        “Beer?” He finally asked as he poked his head out from the door. 

        You suppressed a chuckle and threw caution for the night to the wind. “Yeah, sounds good.” 

        With that, Jack tossed you a bottle, before snatching one for himself. Normally, he doesn’t drink, but he felt as if he needed the liquid courage to face you. He felt like he was being obvious with his intentions, but you’d managed to miss every gesture and hint he threw up to this point. If you’re anything like he is, you’re dense. 

        The two of you walked upwards and opened the door to the roof and were greeted by the lights of the city. The two of you don’t spend much time in people cluttered areas, but when you do, you always spend a moment together. He took a seat next to you on one of the lawn chairs hanging around and cracked the drink open, practically gulping it down. 

        “Are you thirsty?” You chuckled before opening your own. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you down one like that before,” you noted before taking a much smaller sip yourself. 

        Jack shifted uncomfortably for a moment as he took the bottle from his lips. It’s not that he was uncomfortable with you, but he was uncomfortable with the possibility that if you didn’t feel the same way, he could be subjected to the disease that’s claimed the lives of some damn good proxies and independents who fell in love with humans they never had a chance with. He hates getting sick, but he doesn’t think he can handle a broken heart and lungs full of flowers. 

        “No I-,” he took a deep breath. “Reader, I think you’re great.”

        You laughed slightly. “I think you’re great too.”

        Jack shook his head and took another swig before he attempted to speak again. “Not like that, it’s… I’m bad with words,” he sighed, feeling overwhelmed. The man isn’t used to speaking about his feelings. 

        You raised a brow. You know Jack, your Jack, to be someone concise, clear and to the point. He’s not one to fumble over his words. He’s not one to get bashful. You know where this is going, you can see it in your mind’s eye, but you won’t say it because a part of you enjoyed his aversion. “Right now you totally suck at speaking,” you lightly joked, which made him crack the tiniest smile. 

        That’s when he shot you a look. “You already know what I’m trying to say, don’t you?” He deadpanned, eyes narrowed at you slightly in accusation. 

        You let out a laugh and nodded, hand up in submission, “I did,” you giggled. 

        “I swear,” Jack breathed out as he tossed his bottle to the stone floor before he snatched yours and repeated the action. Before you could be surprised, he took you in his arms, his lips pressed to yours in a kiss full of everything he just couldn’t say. 

        Your arms wrapped around him, pleased that he had gotten to the point. 

        Jack has always made your heart flutter. He’s charming, but in his own way. Even though you have future vision to some varying degree, he has never failed to surprise you. For your first anniversary, he had brought you to the most beautiful flower field you’d ever seen. 

        “Have you always known that this was here?” You asked, eyes shining over the field full of lavender, sunflowers, poppies and other wildflowers. The scent rivaled that of the Slender Man’s garden. 

        “I spent the past year cultivating it,” he said as he wrapped his arms around your waist from behind, his head resting on top of yours. “Thought you’d appreciate it.” 

        “And I’m guessing you built the gazebo too?”

        “Had some help from the proxies. Hoodie is surprisingly good at craftsmanship,” he said with a small chuckle. Jack pressed kisses to the crown of your head. 

        You allow him to sway you as you listen to the birds sing from the surrounding trees. “Is this what you were up to?” You asked. 

        Jack breathed out and shrugged. “A magician never reveals his secrets,” he teased.

        You turned around in his grasp and wrapped your arms around his shoulders, hands loosely connected ‘round the back of his neck. “You suck,” you teased, sticking your tongue out before you pressed a kiss to his nose. 

        Jack laughed, his smile rivaling the warmth of the sun. “Thought that was your job,” he mused, making you gasp and smack his chest. He laughed again before you dropped the feigned annoyed attitude and joined him. 

        The rest of your anniversary was held under that gazebo, talking well into the night. 

        When the nights were hard and you were bruised from jobs that were rough, he was always there to pick you back up. You’d come back to the Slender Man’s mansion in need of minor medical attention and had only come to his home because it was close to where you’d gotten banged up. 

        “You can just wait in the waiting room,” a female proxy said as her green eyes scanned you over with little concern. She gestured for you to head down the hall to your left. “You won’t miss it.” It seemed your injuries paled in comparison to the gunshots, knife wounds, musical instruments to the skull and other more hefty injuries. 

        You thanked her with a small smile and then walked down the hall. You’d never really spent extended time in the Slender Man’s mansion; you had no reason to. You didn’t serve directly under him. Still, it was nice to be in something regal looking rather than a dirty field house wondering if the first aid kid was even usable or not. 

        You took a seat once you finally reached the waiting room, displeased to see that there were so many other people - mostly proxies - waiting for service. Some of them looked on the verge of passing out due to blood loss. How had no one attended to them yet? You waited and waited, watching as the more in danger patients were taken in before you finally nodded off. Your dreams were for the most part, empty, but your vision showed you that Jack was here, working. That thought alone was enough to wake you back up. 

        When your eyes reopened, you were overcome with emotions to see Jack in the doorway waiting for you to get up and follow him to the back. You scrambled up from your seat, mindful of not outwardly showing you were in a relationship (the Slender Man detested such bonds) and tried your best to remain cool and level headed. 

        Jack, who wore his mask, showed no signs he had any business with you until he brought you into a secluded room where he could attend to your injuries. The moment the door closed, he took off his mask and looked you over, worry lined on his face. “What’s wrong? Is it serious? O should have seen you sooner. Are you hurt-”

        “Woah, woah,” you tiredly chuckled as you took his rapidly moving hands into yours. “It’s just minor bruises and cuts. Just wanna get them disinfected. I might’ve also sprained my wrist,” you sheepishly admitted. 

        Jack’s face fell again. “Jeeze, I should have seen you earlier,” he muttered to himself, moving around the room to get the supplies he needed. He slapped on his medical gloves again, and then got to work, leaving no part of you untouched. When it stung, he hushed you with words of love. “How did this happen?” He asked quietly. 

        “Alcoholic guy had way more power than I originally expected,” you winced. “I saw the possibility of him throwing me, but not him almost tearing off my wrist by slamming it in a door.” 

        “He what?” Jack growled. 

        “He’s dead now, don’t worry,” you said before you flashed Jack a reassuring look. 

        Jack seemed barely placated by your words and continued working. 

        When he finished working, he pressed a kiss to your forehead and gave you a look that told you he didn’t want you to leave. 

        “I have to,” you said as you allowed him to snake his arms around you. “I’ll be seeing you soon though, right?” 

        “I’m gonna be stuck in this area for a while,” he mumbled into your shoulder. “And you? You’re leaving Alabama right?” 

        You hesitantly nodded and sighed into him before you took in his scent that instantly calmed you. “Yeah, unfortunately. I have some work calling me out east,” you continued as he tensed in your arms. “Besides, I’m getting the vibe that if I stay much longer, the Slender Man is gonna be pissed at us.” 

        If Jack had eyes, he’d roll them. “I don’t care what he wants or likes,” he replied. That’s not entirely true, but love does weird things to people. “Stay a moment longer.” 

        You did. 

        There were times in your five year relationship that the two of you were split up for extended periods of time mostly on the whims and requests of the Slender Man. Those times you were apart were hard. And unfortunately, the two of you couldn’t actually text or call. Phones, electronics in general, were considered liabilities for people like you due to tracking and everything else. It just wasn’t safe, and BEN can only do so much. 

        Instead, the two of you would write letters to each other and enlist the help of Jeffery’s dog, Smile. Of course, the dog doesn’t always enjoy playing mail-dog, but he does enjoy the treats and favors he gets from the two of you. 

        The fifth year of your relationship with him had been a particularly long, hard separation due to distance. The two of you traded letters weekly via Smile. Everything from little anecdotes to how much you missed each other was shared between them until you got a letter that was calm before the storm. 

        ‘Dear Reader, how have you been? I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to write back to you, but Slender has put me on a really weird task. It’s time consuming as all hell and I kinda hate it. I’ve been placed with the proxies for a little while, and they all say ‘hi’ and hope you’re well as much as I do. … I love you, J.’ Of course, interspersed in the letter was a whole treasure trove of everything Jack had been up to. 

        ‘Dear Jack, I’m glad to hear you’re doing alright. I’ve been lighting up the Midwest's farm fields - I don’t know why (I do have my inklings), but the proxies I’m currently with get it. They’re a nice bunch, but the one with a pig mask is kinda mean? Maybe you’ll have to fight him or something. There’s also talk of us converting some people to the proxy side, which is weird because it’s not my territory, but I’ll do what’s asked of me. What’s the task you’re currently up to? I love you, R.’ 

        It had been a few weeks since you got the next letter, and that letter was the beginning of your end. You just didn’t know it yet, and you purposely blinded your future vision to it. 

        ‘Dear Reader, I’m so sorry it took so long to get this letter back to you! I hope I didn’t worry you, but things have once again been really, really busy. In truth, I’m not supposed to tell you about this, but as long as he doesn’t find out… I can trust you with this, but you need to promise you won’t tell anyone else? I suppose it doesn’t matter because the whole of our society is going to be talking about it regardless. We’ve never seen something like this before. Zalgo (may his name burn for all eternity) had a kid, right? They call her Leia and she’s been causing a storm of issues for the tall man. We got a hold of her and she’s been under our watch since. She’s powerful, I’ll give her that. In a way, it’s admirable, but she’s also Slender’s biggest threat. The weirdest thing? She willingly gave herself up to us because she’s got daddy issues. Can you believe that? Zalgo’s favorite kid has daddy issues. She’s naturally murderous towards proxies so Masky, Toby, Hoodie and Kate have to be extra mindful of her. For the most part, she’s with me. We talk a lot, but I have no idea if I can trust her. She’s a great conversationalist though - nothing like her father. She doesn’t look anything like him either (you have seen his human form, right?) In fact, nothing about her screams spawn of Zalgo. She looks… normal, if that’s the right word. Other than that, her attitude reminds me of you. Funny, right? She asks about you every now and then, which is odd because I try not to mention you unless it’s with Hoodie. Hoodie says hi, by extension. She seems to not like you despite having never met you, which is also incredibly strange as she’s been nothing but kind to me and the proxies (despite her trying to kill them when her instincts take over). I digress, and I miss you. I love you, J.’ 

        You’d read that letter over so many times poking and prodding it. The energy didn’t feel right, and your mind had shown you glimpses of what was to come. But of course, still in love with him, you acted like nothing was wrong and the future you had seen wasn’t absolute. 

        The first time you met Leia was largely an accident. A short while after you’d gotten that letter from Jack, you ‘swung by’ the area he was in and decided on a surprise visit. You knew Masky well enough, and the proxy had never been angry with you for visiting prior to. What difference would this one have been?

        You knocked on the door in a way that only Masky would recognize to be greeted by the unmasked proxy. 

        “You’re here for him, aren’t you?” He asked, a tired smile coming onto his lips. 

        You nodded excitedly. “Where is he?” 

        “Back room, with uh-”

        “She already knows,” both Hoodie and Kate said in unison as they barely spared a glance over their shoulders from the terrible movie playing on Lifetime. 

        Masky shot a slight glare towards his teammates but relented and moved aside in the doorway. “Have fun,” he said as you stepped inside. “Don’t do anything stupid and if you do, do so quietly?” 

        You slapped Masky’s shoulder and walked down the hall. You took a brief moment to wave to Toby who was reading something in one of the rooms before you reached the end where you heard laughter. To be polite, you knocked on the door, and to your surprise, it was not Jack who answered the door. 

        There she stood with long silver hair and the most alluring blue eyes you’d ever seen, her skin as warm as the cinnamon that floated on top of hot chocolate in the winter. She gave you a sickly saccharine smile before she turned her head over her shoulder to address Jack, “Reader is here,” she giggled. 

        You bit back a grimace but smiled when Jack got up and gently moved Leia aside in the doorframe to greet you. 

        “It’s so good to see you,” he said as he took you into his arms before he crushed you in his grip. “How have you been?” He whispered in your ear before he peppered your face with kisses. 

        You wished you could have enjoyed the moment as you laughed in his arms, but your eyes fluttered open for just a moment to see Leia’s unamused expression. “I’m okay,” you replied in a tone lacking the enthusiasm Jack expected to hear. 

        “Are you sure?” He asked as he checked you over to ensure you physical self was safe. His hands cupped your cheeks as you were forced to look up at him. 

        “Of course,” you replied in an attempt to play it cool. 

        “If you say so,” he trailed off before taking your hand in his and leading you to sit next to him on the bed. 

        From there, the world’s most awkward conversation took place between Jack and Leia with you attempting to cut in every once and a while. You saw it in little glimpses. 

        Her eyes never left his sockets, and he allowed it. 

        When her hand touched his knee, he made no motion to move it. 

        When she laughed, he smiled in a way that only you had been used to seeing. 

        He talked with her with so many inside jokes, you felt as if you were just peeking in on someone else’s conversation, not one you were invited to.

        Gradually, through the hour, he’d moved closer to her than he had you. While his arm remained loosely wrapped around your waist, he’d leaned forward to hear her better. He watched her interaction first after he shared a story. His focus was on her. You’d left his field of vision. 

        A few weeks into your fifth year was all it took. 

        Things did not get any easier from there. Eventually, you were moved to helping the group in regards to Leia. According to Slender, it was to ‘protect her’ from her father and her now murderous siblings. That’s when the rift grew wider, and the roots took hold. 

        See, after that first in person interaction with Leia, you’d felt a scratchiness in your lungs. At first, you chalked it up to being under the weather, but after being moved to Masky’s group, you knew nothing would ever be the same. Your worst fear had come true, and all it took was a pair of blue eyes. 

        Physically, Jack was still yours. He’d hold you, kiss you and touch you like you were still his. He never physically left your side, nor did his flesh betray your relationship. No, it was something much deeper than that that brought about the sprouts that took hold in your lungs. 

        Emotionally, he’d left you the moment he laid sockets on her. Why did he give in so easily? Who knows - boredom? A premature seven year itch? You’re not sure. But you saw it - you saw his heart leave the space it once shared with you and take up residence with hers, and it was painful. So, so painful. 

        He looked at her like she owned the moon and commanded the tides. 

        He smiled at her in a way he used to smile with you. 

        He spoke to her in a tone so gentle, you assumed he’d only used it for you. 

        He spoke with you less frequently, and when he did, it was much shorter and to the point. Whenever you prodded him, he had chalked it up to being stressed and that of course, he still loved you. 

        “You’re just being paranoid.” 

        He told her things you’d never even scratched the surface of. 

        She viewed him as hers. 

        And he allowed it without leaving the safety net that was you. 

        Of course, this did not go unnoticed by the proxies. None of them wanted to get directly involved though. 

        Hoodie was amongst the most disturbed as he was usually the first to call out Jack’s bullshit and the first proxy to inquire about you and your wellbeing. Despite not spending any time with you, Hoodie viewed you as a good friend. 

        "You realize what you're doing isn't cool, right?" Hoodie said as he walked back to the temp house with Jack. 

        "I'm not doing anything," Jack replied. "This about Leia?"

        "No, it's about Pennywise we met last year - of course it's about Leia," Hoodie hissed as he rolled his eyes. "You're digging a hole you won't be able to get back out of. You know that, right?"

        Jack lightly shoved Hoodie's shoulder in response. He was uncomfortable with what Hoodie had insinuated, mostly because Hoodie's BS meter is never far off the mark and normally strikes true. But when he entered that house and saw Leia sitting at the table, he couldn't help but take his place at her side. 

        Perhaps Kate just believes in girl code, but as a fellow being under the Slender Man’s control, she’s got her eye out for you. She believed wholeheartedly that what Jack was doing was scummy, but of course, her focus is on you. It came in mugs of hot chocolate and late night living room talks. She cares, just quietly. 

        "Don't overwork yourself, okay?" She said softly as she draped a blanket around your shoulders. 

        You'd been nodding off much more in the living room than in the room you shared with Jack. "What?" You said sleepily. 

        Kate chuckled softly and let you rest your head on her lap. "Turn your brain off for a while with me and let's watch this gods awful movie." Anything to get your mind off of what's going on and if this movie does it for you, that's good enough for the moment. 

        "Yes, ma'am," you tiredly rib, a smile on your lips. 

        Toby is inexperienced when it comes to these things. He was the first person to find you hacking up forget-me-nots. That was a scary experience as he’s never seen the Hanahaki before. He’s too young and too inexperienced, where would he have seen it? 

        He can distinctly remember walking with you, patrolling the area for threats when you suddenly stopped. It’d been a few months of you in his group's care, and he’d seen you retreat into yourself the longer Jack spent time with Leia. He knew it, just didn’t know how to go about it. 

        “What’s w-w-wrong?” He asked. 

        You waved for him to go on. “I’m fine-” you tried to wheeze out before you began violently coughing. 

        Toby initially thought you were going through what Masky did. He’s handled that before and naively thought he could help you until he rushed to your side to see the small forming pile of blue flowers covered sparsely in drops of blood. “Oh n-n-no,” he whispered as he knelt at your side. He held you like you were glass. “R-Reader-”

        “I said I’m fine!” You tried to reason before coughing once more, this time more blood than cursed flower. 

        “Does t-t-this look f-f-fine to you?” He asked in stress and worry. “We n-need to t-t-tell M-Masky or J-Ja-”

        “No,” you coldly cut off as you wiped your mouth of the blood that dribbled down your chin. 

        Toby wanted to fight that notion badly, but instead focused on getting you back safe. “I-I’ll tell M-Masky we s-saw some n-n-not deer on t-the p-property,” he murmured as he carefully picked you back up. 

        You allowed him. 

        Masky knew the moment you walked back into the temp house with Toby holding you as inconspicuous as he could. It’s unfortunate, he thinks, because he knows what that’s like - to love someone and physically suffer because of it. 

        One day, he’d sent everyone out of the house except for you and urged you to sit down and have some apple cider with him to ‘celebrate’ his favorite season, fall. 

        “Let’s not beat around the bush,” he began. “You’ve got it.”

        You shifted uncomfortably and averted your gaze from his and chose to look into your apple cider than his eyes. “What?”

        “Reader,” Masky sighed as he sat up in his seat. “Please…”

        “It’s not that serious,” you attempted to retort. “It’s not… It’s not that bad.”

        “You’re delusional,” Masky said. “I saw the flowers in the trash bin.”

        You rolled your eyes but crossed your arms over your chest anyways in an attempt to soothe yourself. 

        “You know what happens, right?” He continued, leaning forward. “It either takes you or you get the surgery done.” 

        A pregnant pause passes before you reluctantly speak. 

        “Is… Is it really that bad?” 

        Masky nodded, “From experience? Yeah,” he mumbled. 

        You gave him a look of both sympathy and intrigue. 

        “The Operator forced me to get the surgery,” he admitted. 

        You look into his eyes and see for the first time that he’s empty. His dark brown eyes, that are full of amiability, protective nature, it’s all a front. He doesn’t actually feel that way - it is what is expected of him, but he is hollow. 

        “What happened?” You asked shyly, unsure if that’s too sensitive or not. 

        “I don’t quite remember as that’s an outcome of having the surgery,” Masky hummed. “But I remember that I loved him- I don’t feel it, obviously - but I remember that I loved him more than anything, would’ve moved mountains for him, and then he died,” he sounded vaguely perturbed by the words, but they did not reach his heart. “I think his name was Jay.” 

        You felt something pierce your heart, but it was interrupted by the flowers in your lungs blooming through your mouth. 

        Masky held you as you coughed petals and blood in the bathtub. 

        You promised Masky you were going to speak things over with Jack. You promised you were going to solve this. But when he spoke to you with his empty words coated in honey, the pain became too much to bear. It hurt. Seeing him hurt. Hearing him hurt.

        “Jack?” You ask quietly, slowly sitting up in the bed you shared with him, much too used to his arms not being slinked around your form by this point. 

        He roused slightly in the bed before he opened his eyes. “Yeah? What’s up?” He asks, a slight bite in his voice from being woken up. 

        “Can we talk about something?” 

        “Can’t it wait?” He sighs in a slightly exasperated tone. 

        You shake your head, and through the darkness, Jack’s form sloughs in defeat. 

        “What is it?” He asks. 

        “Are we okay?”

        “Of course we’re okay.”

        “Are you sure?”

        “Yes.”

        “Do you love me?” 

        “I love you more than anything,” he replies, hand gripping yours. 

        He feels like ice. 

        “And what about Leia?”

        “She’s a really good friend of mine.”

        He suddenly feels warm. 

        “I’m sorry for waking you.” 

        “It’s nothing, now go to sleep, baby. We can talk about this in the morning,” he says with a small yawn before falling back into the comfort of slumber. 

        Your other hand at this point, has wrapped over your mouth to stifle the sounds of silence and the threat of flowers crawling up from your esophagus. You suffer in silence for a few minutes until you’re certain he’s asleep, then quietly excuse yourself to the bathroom. 

        You begin to cough as softly as you can, not wanting to be a burden to anyone in the house as forget-me-nots begin to fill up the sink. Blood splatters on the porcelain as well as the mirror. Your eyes are full of tears. You feel cold, much too cold. 

        As you continue to empty your lungs in vain, the light flicks on. You’re in too much pain and absorbed in velvety petals to realize it at first. 

        “I thought I told you to handle this,” Masky’s exhausted voice chides gently, his eyes dipping to the mess you’ve left in the basin of the sink. 

        You grip the edge of the sink before hacking up the rest of what the garden in your lungs has to offer before slinking down to the tile floor, utterly exhausted. “Turn the light off,” you whisper. Your back rests against the tub. 

        Masky does as you ask, allowing the moonlight to overtake as the main source of light in the small bathroom. His shoulders sag slightly as he joins you on this floor, his arm around your shoulders. “Get some sleep,” he says softly, allowing you to rest your head on his shoulder. 

        You smile softly as the flowers continue to clog up your lungs. It looks like another fit is coming. 

        “Just let it pass,” he murmurs softly into your ear, his head resting loosely on top of yours as you attempt to suppress the flowers from reemerging. “It’ll be over soon.” 

        You move your eyes to look at his profile before you take in the scent of cigarettes. You continue to feel your lungs grow heavy with blossoms when you hear Leia’s door open. Her steps pad quietly along the wooden floor as she crosses the hall to the room you used to share with Jack. “You promise?” You manage to choke out before stifling your coughs as quietly as you can. Your eyelids are growing heavier. You can hear your heartbeat through your chest to the hallways of your ears. Leia has slipped into bed with Jack. You hear him shift. He’s holding her now. 

        “I promise,” he says gently, holding you just a little tighter. 

        You close your eyes and listen to Masky hum, hoping sleep washes over you soon.

[jimlingss]

I really enjoyed reading your fic fall in hatred with jin and liked the concept of a couple on the verge of a divorce. I thought I’d make a request for an angsty marriage/divorce au with another member like jk but it ends fluffy🥺

Whether you take this request or not, I wanted to say that you’re a great writer and I always love reading your stories 💜

↳ Honeymoon Horrors

3.7k || 55% Angst, 45% Fluff || Min Yoongi || Divorce!AU

It was great when it started.   Cloud nine had descended down and made its home above both your heads. You were practically floating, swooning, living a romance that Nicholas Sparks would’ve envied. You felt like you were on a permanent high as if weed and cocaine was permanently stuck in your system. You had reached enlightenment and you were permanently euphoric. How could you not be?   You had met your soulmate after all.   But as the years passed, it came tumbling down. Cloud nine started to rain. You swooned so hard that you struck your head against the edge of the kitchen counter. Instead of floating, you were getting dragged down to hell and the high you felt turned into a crash. Most importantly, you became enraged.   And you’re still mad now.   When you watch your wedding videos, all you can do is throw popcorn at the screen and scream at the grinning bitch that she’s making the worst mistake of her life.    Life’s full of plot twists, isn’t it?   And you can only chuckle at that realization now. Because what was meant to be the honeymoon you never had, a replacement honeymoon of sorts, is turning out to be a nightmare.   “Hey. Can you move?”   You rip off your headphones. “Excuse me?”   “You’re taking up all of the space.” Yoongi stares at you lazily. “This is supposed to be my armrest.”   “No. This is mine. That’s yours.”   “No. Yours is next to the window. This one is supposed to be mine. If you’re that uncomfortable, you should’ve just given me the window seat.”   You scoff and shove his arm off the armrest with your own. The half-offended, half-amused expression on Yoongi’s face is utterly stupid. It’s as if he’s judging you for being childish when he was the one who started this. You wish you could punch him square in the nose. “If you want me to move, then why don’t you move your legs? You’re taking up all the leg room!”   “You’re only out of space because you had to put your purse under the seat.”   “Where else am I supposed to put my purse?!”   “Do you see me carrying a purse?”   Suddenly, there’s a clearing of the throat. A female flight attendant is standing at the aisle and leaning over while wearing a perfectly, cordial smile. “Is there a problem over here?”   Your eyes narrow into the nosy bitch sitting across the aisle who probably tattled. You saw her looking in the corner of her eye from the very start.    “No. Not at all.”   Yoongi smiles easily. “We’re fine.”   There’s an urge to roll your eyes.    In all honesty, you underestimated Yoongi. While your divorce was well on its way and heading off like a bullet train, you had forgotten how petty he was. Exactly like you. Maybe that’s why for a period of time, you suited one another so well.   With the deposit already given on what was supposed to be the honeymoon extravaganza you never had and the plans already made long ago, you were set on going no matter what. Except he was also set on going. The asshole couldn’t give up and neither were you willing to give in.   So here you were. With your worst nemesis.    “Can you repeat that?”   “I’m sorry, ma’am. There’s no possible way we can get you two rooms.” The receptionist looks up from her computer screen. “You originally booked the presidential suite, correct?”   “Yes, but we changed it into two regular rooms a while ago,” Yoongi says. His brows are cinched together and he’s gripping onto the itinerary tightly.   The girl behind the front desk looks at her computer again and clicks twice but probably at nothing. “I’m so sorry. It looks like it didn’t register into our system. Is there anything else I can do for you?”   This is dreadful. As if things couldn’t get worse, they got much much worse.   “Great.” You haul in your luggage, no thanks to him. “This is just great.”   “Yeah, keep complaining,” Yoongi grumbles, “See how much that helps.”   “Shut up.”   On the top floor, the room is quiet and open. There’s a love seat in front of a flat screen television, a dining room and an open kitchen and bar. The large glass windows fully face the sandy, blue beach and allows light to pour into the enormous space. There are two chairs outside the private terrace and a jacuzzi too. But as beautiful as the place is, you feel bitter.    It should’ve been great.    It would’ve been great if you were alone.   And to make matters worse, it seems like the resort hadn’t gotten the news that your relationship with Yoongi was essentially decimated. Not when there was a scattered rose petal path leading up to the king-sized bed which also had two folded doves on it with the word ‘congratulations’ spelled out in more petals. There’s also a note: I hope you enjoy yourselves, Mr. and Mrs. Min. And neither of you miss the mountainous stack of condoms on the nightstand.   Yoongi’s pale. “Christ.”   The knock on the door breaks the thick tension.   Yoongi opens the door, and he immediately steps back as two enthusiastic employees enter while wheeling in a silver cart. “Aloha, welcome to Hawaii! Are you the newlyweds?”   “Umm…”    The two of you are well past that period. To be exact, you married nearly two years ago, but you don’t know how to break it to them. Yoongi’s never been good with words either.   “Enjoying your honeymoon, aren’t you? Congratulations!” The older man is excited as if he was the one who got married. “We bought you a bottle of our best champagne to celebrate and hope you have an everlasting marriage!”   The girl beside the man pops the cork and pours the champagne, and you realize it would be more painless to go along with it.   “Thanks,” you mumble, taking your flute of champagne and nearly downing the entire thing in one go. Yoongi holds his and raises a brow at you.   “We also have a red velvet cake.” He shows you on the busy cart. “And our freshest chocolate strawberries just made earlier by our finest chef. I think you’ll enjoy this chocolate as well.”   “Thank you.” Yoongi offers a faint smile. “This is really nice.”   “Of course, of course! Anything for our newlyweds!” There’s a small bowl of almonds next to the chocolates and two raw oysters served on a plate. It’s odd with the ensemble, but then the man leans closer as if revealing a secret and puts a hand by his mouth. “It is said almonds, chocolate and oysters are aphrodisiacs.”   You choke on your champagne, sputtering.   The girl grins. Yoongi’s wide-eyed.   He collects himself quicker than you do. “Thank you.”   Luckily the friendly, borderline-overbearing staff leave the both of you to it and you’re put out of your misery. For only a moment.   “Are you going to finish that bottle of champagne by yourself?” Yoongi asks across the room and you turn your head to see his cocked brow. Of course, he’s unpacking. The asshole doesn’t know how to relax and always has to make you look bad.   You scoff. “I’m about to open the red wine too.”   “Never thought I’d see you be reduced to a drunk so quickly.”   “Why can’t you just leave me alone? You’re always judging and nitpicking me.”   “I was making a comment.”   “Yeah and no one asked you to,” you mumble into the glass.   Yoongi eyes you. “You don’t have to get so upset, Y/N.”   “Are you serious?” Your posture straightens, legs lifted off the chair you propped them on and feet shifted onto the ground. “I was sitting here minding my own business. Why don’t you mind your own business.”   “I just thought you didn’t want to be sloppy when dinner hasn’t even started yet.”   “I know how to control my pacing.”   Yoongi snorts.   Your tongue rolls inside your cheek. “Excuse me?”   “What?”   “You look like you want to say something.”   “No. Not at all.”   You place the flute down onto the table. “Say it, Yoongi.”    “I thought you said I should mind my own business.”   “You’re such a condescending asshole, you know that?”   Yoongi stops folding his shirt and shuts the drawer. His expression is impassive and it irritates you more. “Pot meets kettle.”   “For someone who’s supposedly quiet, you fucking never know how to shut up.”   “Can’t you just calm down, Y/N? Unlike what you think, I’m not trying to get on your nerves. I’m trying to enjoy this trip.”   “Why are you acting like I’m the only one getting upset and that I’m the crazy one,” you spit, and he opens his mouth as if to say you are being crazy. But you don’t let him— “Don’t you dare say it. Fuck you, Yoongi. You don’t think I’m trying to enjoy this too? You think I wanted it to be like this?!”   “Maybe if you weren’t trying to pick a fight with me every goddamn second, you would have a good time, woman.”   “You’re the one who’s always trying to pick a fight with me!”   He sighs, body language dismissive to what you’re saying. “Stop being so upset—”   “Well too bad, I am upset! So just let me be!” You stand on your feet, teeth gritted and fist clenched. You’re practically screaming across the suite but there aren’t any close enough neighbours to complain. “You’re always telling me what I should and shouldn’t feel! This is exactly why we’re getting a divorce!”   With the last word said, you stomp away and the bathroom door slams shut. It’s the only place you can be alone, but even then, the four walls are frosted glass.   …   You’re not sure who brought up divorce first. It’s not like it matters. But one thing you do know is that it came up in an argument. A jab where someone’s sole intention was to hurt. And the other person stubbornly retaliated with ‘fine, have it your way’.   You remember calling your lawyer and him calling his. The process continued and continued and as it did, so did your arguments as the two of you realized no one was going to stop it. It became more painful the more time that went on. Clearly, it meant he was serious about it. Clearly, he didn’t care if he was happy to sign divorce papers. So you made yourself not care too.   And it continued to snowball like that.   Before you knew it, you were telling your families that the divorce was happening, much to their distress. Before you knew it, here you were.   By the time you get out of the bathroom, Yoongi’s gone.   He probably left for some peace and quiet. After all, it’s volatile when you’re together. It’s not like you want it to be that way, it just became that way. What sucks the most is that you know he’s right. You’re part to blame for the recent argument. You got too worked up unnecessarily. You’re constantly on the defensive as if he’s out to attack you. And once it’s quiet, you hate that you shouted.   But he has his own part to blame too. Yoongi knows how to get under your skin. He knew he was egging you on and he didn’t stop. So it escalated and escalated.   You end up wandering the resort by yourself. You enjoy the sunset on the beach and when the dinner buffet is open, you sit alone with your plate, staring out into the empty abyss of the ocean shrouded in darkness. All around you, there are families and lovers, jovial music that’s inviting.   Yet you feel isolated in the crowd.   You try to move around, preoccupy yourself.    But the last thing you expect is to see Yoongi. Across the bar. With a pretty, young girl on his arm. A sun-kissed blonde, to be specific. Wearing a crop top with booty shorts.    Yoongi’s nursing a whisky on the rocks, his usual drink, as she grasps onto his bicep. The swell of her breasts are practically pushed onto him. She says something and he smiles.   At the same time, something boils in the pit of your stomach. It’s pure, unadulterated rage.   Before you know it, you’ve turned on your heel and beelined to the hotel lobby bar. You call yourself hard liquor and down the drink as you seethe. The image of him and that Barbie doll is seared into your mind, flashing beneath your eyelids each time you blink.   The liquid burns and tears pool into your eyes, but you hold them back.   The bar is busy, filled of guests constantly ordering, so no one notices that you keep downing bitter drinks until there’s a tap on your shoulder—   “Aloha.” A concerned employee looms over you. “Is everything alright?”   That’s when you realize you’ve been drinking by yourself for three full hours. The table’s crowded with glasses and the ones on the edge are a centimeter away from falling over.   You end up waving him away and stumbling back to the room.   The world is teetering and you try to lean onto the wall for balance. It’s a miracle that you pressed the right number on the elevator when everything was swirling together. Or at least, you’re pretty sure this is the right floor.   You pound on the door. “Yoongiiiiii! Yoongiii! Open up!”   When there’s no response, you mutter ‘asshole’. Then your eye peels open and you realize you’ve been knocking against the door of the ice and vending machine room. You turn on your heel and careen to the next door.   “Yooongiiii!” you whine his name in exasperation, cheek pressed against the smooth surface.   You only have to call out twice before the door’s suddenly swinging open and you’re falling into the arms of your (soon-to-be ex-) husband. “‘Bout time. Was waiting foreverrr!”   “Fuck.” Yoongi’s nose scrunches at the smell of alcohol and he grabs a hold of your shoulders, pulling you away from him, nose scrunched at your smell. He keeps you at a safe distance as if you were nervous middle-schoolers at your first dance. You hate it. Why can’t he just hug you? “God, how much did you drink, Y/N?”   “Dunno. Lost my key card.”   “What?”   The door swings shut.   “Are you banging a chick in our room?” you slur, trying to keep your eyes open to look at him. He was already changed into his soft pajamas, a blue checkered print that made him look so much cuter. It’s unfair. “Am I interrupting?”   His brows cinch together, lips turning down. Yoongi’s visibly confused. “Ban—”   “Saw you talkin’ to that pretty girl at the bar,” you huff, wobbling back and forth.   He’s dumbfounded. “Who?”   “Don’t play stupid!” You poke his chest with your finger. “That lil girl who looks like a model!”   Yoongi winces at the volume of your voice and you add in frustration, “I’ll leave if you are, so just tell me already.”   “No, I’m not sleeping with anyone, Y/N.” Yoongi fixes his arm around your waist to keep you balanced and he sighs, reaching down to help you take off your shoes. “So much for knowing how to pace yourself, Y/N,” he mumbles with a faint smile on his lips instead of the annoyance you’re used to.   Yoongi loops your arm around his neck and begins to guide you towards the bed. But you stop, making your legs deadweight and you turn to him, staring into his eyes so deep, it’s like you’re looking into his soul. It’s pretty.   “What?” he asks, almost uncomfortable by your intense gawking.    “Do you not love me anymore?”   “What?”   “Just tell me, goddammit. Do you have no feelings towards me no more?” You pound your chest with your free hand. Yoongi plops you onto the love seat when he sees that you have no plans of making it to the bed. “Did everything mean nothin’ to you?”   He remains silent.   You angrily shout— “Answer me!”   Yoongi flinches. “God, Y/N. You don’t need to scream, I’m right next to you.” He sighs and drags a hand over his face. “If it meant nothing to me, do you think I’d be taking care of you right now? Now sit here and wait.”   With his dictatorial command wielded with his low voice, you pout but obey.    Yoongi returns a minute later with your pajamas in one hand and a cool glass of water in the other. “Drink this. And all of it.”   You nurse the glass of water with two hands and get a sip in. But your pout persists and before you know it, you’re bursting into tears. Yoongi all but freezes.   “’m sorry,” you sob, “I didn’t wanna fight.”   “Y/N.”   “I don’t mean to be so mad! I’m sorry.”   Yoongi kneels in front of you with a long sigh. “It’s okay, Y/N,” he coaxes and tugs the sleeve of his shirt to wipe the beads of teardrops trekking down your cheeks. “I know you didn’t mean it.”   “Really?”   “Yes. If anything….I’m sorry too,” Yoongi mumbles solemnly and before you can react, he’s already moved on. “Now drink your water.”   You cry into your glass, but you down the entire thing like he said and your crying stops by the end.   “Arms up,” Yoongi commands and you listen to him. He peels off your shirt in one single swoop and tosses it aside. He helps you put on your pajama top without blinking an eye and pulls the hem of your leggings to replace those as well. Yoongi even takes a damp washcloth to wipe your face and you watch him the entire time. His lashes are long, and Yoongi’s so nice and reliable. “Let's get you to bed, alright?”   You nod, and he guides you to it, having cleared the rose petals earlier. “So you didn’t sleep with her?”   “No.”   “Why not? She was hot!”   “I wasn’t interested.”   “Really?”   “Really,” Yoongi assures as he sets you to sit on the edge of the mattress. He moves to pull the sheets and struggles with how tucked in they are. In the meanwhile, you get the greatest idea you’ve ever had—   “Then fuck me instead before you fuck her.”   “What?”   Yoongi’s entire body goes rigid and he whips his head towards you with eyes that nearly bulge out of their sockets. You pout at him. “I wanna suck your dick and feel it in me, Yoongi. I miss it. When we used to have sex. It was so good.”   “Oh, you are so drunk.” He chuckles, a sound that sounds so nice you wish you can hear it forever and ever. “You’re going to be so embarrassed when you wake up tomorrow, Y/N.”   Yoongi pulls the sheet and is about to get you tucked in. But you steal the opportunity when he gets close and you loop your arms around his neck. “No, I’m not.” Your voice drops into a whisper. “Remember when you used to spit in my mouth? And you liked it sooo much.” You giggle when you notice his ears becoming hot and red. “You still like it now, don’t you, you nasty freak!”   You smack him on the shoulder in the midst of your bubbling laughter and he winces.    “Ow!”   “Imagine if I got pregnant from it too!” you add in your hysterics.   “Let’s not.”   “I always thought our kids would be so cute. Especially if they got your cheeks.” You reach and tug on Yoongi’s cheeks while giggling. He lets you have your fun, staying still and letting you squish his face together. And in your drunken state, you don’t realize how tender his eyes become.   “We’re getting a divorce, Y/N.”   You frown. “Why on earth would we do that?”   “Because,” he murmurs.   “Let’s not,” you slur. “Can’t we cancel it?”   It goes quiet with Yoongi gazing into your eyes. “Do you even know what you’re saying?”   “Yeah.” You grow sheepish. “Aren’t you supposed to get a divorce if you hate each other?”   “That’s how it works generally.” Yoongi stands and gently presses on your shoulder to lay you down. The pillows feel soft underneath your head and he starts to tug the covers up to your chin.   “But I don’t hate you. I care a loooooot about you.” You sulk. “Otherwise, why’d I get jealous when I saw you at the bar?”   The corner of his mouth tugs. “So you’re admitting you were jealous?”   “Wouldn’t you get jealous if you saw me with someone else?”   Yoongi thinks about it. “Maybe.”   “Maybe?”   He finally admits, “Yeah, I’d be pretty pissed.”   You hum contently, lids becoming uncontrollably heavier. You want to stay up. It’s so much fun talking to Yoongi. It feels like forever since you talked to him like this. But you’re so tired. And comfortable. You want him to cuddle and spoon you to sleep. Yoongi cuddles are the best.   “Yooongiiii.”   You call out to him with your eyes closed.   “Yeah?”   “I think—” You go dead quiet and after three seconds, he thinks you’ve fallen asleep, but then your mouth moves again. “—I loooove you.” A beat later, your two arms suddenly raises up into the air. Hands measuring about a ruler stick length. “This much.”   He snorts and turns off the lamp. “Go to sleep, Y/N.”   …   When you wake up the next morning, your head is absolutely pounding.   For the first time, you detest how much light the damn room lets in. You also curse aging and having to suffer hangovers when five years ago, you were perfectly unscathed the next day after drinking.   Luckily, there’s advil on the bedside with a tall glass of water and you down the entire thing after taking a pill. You’re not so sure where these came from, but your answer is across the room.   Yoongi, realizing you’re awake, has an amused smile on his face and his brow cocked. More importantly, his eyes have somehow softened.   You groan, remembering last night. Every detail. Every word. Like a film that could be played back. It’s mortifying and even without your obvious reaction, Yoongi’s been with you long enough to know how superb your memory is even after being wasted. He knows you know.   And the worst part?    You meant it all.

[yuyuntianyu]

[2HA analysis blog] To love you is torment but leave you I cannot

I wanted to write this (hopefully not-too-long) blog to give 2HA fandom a different perspective of the events in the past timeline. I noticed that there are many little things that could not be carried over to the English language. These little things can give more explanations to our characters’ actions so I hope sharing this would help the novel make more sense. This blog focuses on Taxian-jun and Chu Fei.

Warning: Spoilers ! ! ! Taxian-jun and Chu Fei are their own trigger warnings ! ! !

Despite the novel having 350 chapters, we really know little about what happened between Taxian-jun and Chu Fei besides the abuse and mistreatment and that little is relayed to us by the Most Unreliable Narrator of the Cultivation World - Mo Ran Mo Weiyu. If we only take Mo Ran for his words then a lot of his and Chu Wanning’s decisions told later on would seem irrational and almost silly. So let’s dive deep in the past so we can understand how the great cultivator Beidou Xian-zun could raise such a dumb husky since the events in the past would explain the more irrational decisions made by both main characters.

Given Mo Ran’s narrator is about as reliable as his character in the first 120 chapters, we have to look at other more subtle clues and some of them are due to cultural and linguistic differences.

1. I used to like you a lot

At his coronation day, Taxian-jun stated that he once greatly looked up to Chu Wanning and that he used to love and respect him dearly. Maybe I am reading into this too much but this is my theory: The flower could erase the memory itself but cannot erase the feelings associated with the memory. He had his memories of the good deeds Chu Wanning did for him erased but still remembered that he used to love and respect him. It doesn’t make sense unless it is indeed that the flower could not erase its host’s feelings. So throughout the novel, Mo Ran’s complicated emotions are complicated possibly because he could not remember how he came to have these feelings. Similarly, Hua Binan could mess with the undead Taxian-jun’s memory to a great extent but could not erase his obsession with Chu Wanning.

2. I gave you a new title

Chu Fei. 楚妃. In the Imperial Chinese harem hierarchy, “Fei” means consort and not concubine (嬪 “Pín"). Consorts were highly respected positions in the palace weidling much political power and were only seconds to the Empress Consort. Another major difference is a consort would be married to the emperor while a concubine would not. So if Taxian-jun had truly wanted to only humiliate Chu Wanning and keep him for the carnal pleasures (I am intentionally ignoring his breeding kink completely), he would keep him as a concubine but he gave Chu Wanning the Consort title and hid him from the world. At this point, Taxian-jun had almost lost Chu Wanning once and had spent a lot of effort to bring him back from the verge of death after hearing Chu Wanning’s apology so his anger might have softened a bit. Also, given that Chu Wanning is a man, having a legitimate offspring ( (I am still intentionally ignoring Mo Ran's breeding kink completely) is not an issue so although this is not clearly stated, I believe Taxian-jun wanted to force a relationship and somewhat proper marriage on Chu Wanning. Another hint of this is in an Extra chapter where Taxian-jun tried to get Chu Wanning a birthday gift. He recalled that in his past timeline, he had wanted Chu Wanning to give him something on his birthday as well and that he had wanted Chu Wanning’s heart.

3. Shizun likes to write letters and poems

On Book 3 Chapter 247, Chu Wanning sat down and wrote a few unsent letters to the people he used to know. He also wrote a few lines of poetry. In the first few lines taken from different literature works, he expressed his sense of helplessness and his wish to remain untainted despite the circumstances. The more important two lines are from a poem written by a real poet named Fàn Chéngdà ( 范成大) who lived in the 12th century Southern-Song dynasty. The two lines read:

“May I be like the stars, may you* be as the moon. Night after night, may we shine together side by side.” **

*In the original work, the character used instead of you is “jun” 君 (as in 踏仙君 Taxian-jun). 君 could mean king, emperor, lord, or gentleman ** This is my rough translation - I haven’t found an English version of this poem

These two lines are commonly used in romantic novels as a way to express one’s unchanging love and loyalty to another person despite the circumstances. He compared himself as the stars and wanted to remain by Taxian-jun whom he viewed as the moon. Chu Wanning wrote this to express his willingness to stay but he would never voice this out loud. In the next timeline, he did the same thing by quietly loving and caring for Mo Ran 1.0 despite the mistreatment and was content with never expressing his feelings vocally. Mo Ran was rather uneducated and thus could not fully comprehend these two lines and misunderstood that Chu Wanning was missing Xue Meng.

4. You are all I have left

In chapter 252, after Chu Wanning returned to The Red Lotus Pavilion, he found Taxian-jun already waiting for him. Taxian-jun told Chu Wanning about a dream he had and said:

“I am afraid I don’t resent you… I want to resent you… Otherwise, I…” “In the end, it’s just you and I”.

This is not the first time he expressed that Chu Wanning was all he had left or they only had each other. I believe that at this point, Taxian-jun might have somewhat believed Chu Wanning and recognized that his memories were missing. His words and behaviors seemed a lot more gentle and he mentioned they did have periods of time where their marriage was easier. I believe it was after this point. He told us about the numerous times he attempted to spoil his consort or expressed his affection through gifts, a trip outside the palace, goods, jewels, and even teaching Chu Wanning how to cook or personally taking care of Chu Wanning when he was sick. At one point, Taxian-jun expressed his wish for a more peaceful marriage with Chu Wanning through his breeding kink by saying that if they had children, perhaps they would be more civil towards each other.

Edit: I really wanted to go about this blog without having to refer to their particular taste in bed

5. Are you still mad?

This is a smaller detail but in the original text and the Vietnamese official translation, the way they talked to each other had a bit more of the “husband-wife” dynamic. Especially Chu Wanning ( l┐(︶▽︶)┌ ), the comment section said he sounded like when your wife is mad that you didn’t take out the trash but still says: “I’m not mad” and Taxian-jun, the husband, would come around and ask “Are you still mad at me?” after every fight.

6. I did not think you would really leave me.

On Chapter 99, Mo Ran recalled the fight between him and Chu Wanning after an assassination attempt. In order to convince Mo Ran to not go to Taxue Palace, Chu Wanning said:

“If you destroy Taxue palace, if you kill Xue Meng, I will die before you”.

Now the line “I will die before you” in my language is less of a suicidal ideation but more of a threat. It's used when a person already knows that they are important to the other person and is using their own death as a threat to make the other person do something. This line is thrown around a lot during heated arguments between people close to each other but they almost never mean it. (Even my mom said it numerous times before T_T . I personally think it’s manipulative). Therefore, it is understandable Taxian-jun did not take this line seriously and replied almost mockingly. After all, they had been married for almost a decade at that point, Taxian-jun probably felt somewhat comfortable that Chu Wanning would not do anything reckless. He could not foresee that Chu Wanning meant what he said and actually followed through with his words. I believe that if Taxian-jun had known that Chu Wanning was serious, Taxian-jun would not have gone to Taxue Palace. 7. Don't leave me, ok?

Then Chu Wanning died and Mo Ran spent two years alone. In those two years, we know he basically went insane because of grief, talked to a corpse everyday, and deep fried his Empress Consort. But strangely enough, Mo Ran 1.0 did not immediately mention this after being reborn although it was the main reason he committed suicide. And at that point, it had been well over a decade since Shi Mei faked his death in the past timeline, yet Mo Ran 1.0 seemed to still hold a lot of resentment towards Chu Wanning. Also, he said he could accept Shi Mei’s death but would never accept Chu Wanning’s. So honestly, it did not make sense to me the first time I read the novel and I believed Mo Ran resented Chu Wanning for a different reason.

The answer was first hinted at in chapter 9 when Mo Ran scolded the sleeping Chu Wanning. He called Chu Wanning a donkey hoof (lol) and this is actually an idiom to scold someone who is disloyal and unfaithful in love. The puzzles came together when the undead Taxian-jun showed up and immediately went after Chu Wanning (and not Shi Mei). He believed Chu Wanning used his death to hurt him and was angry at Chu Wanning for leaving him. This is the resentment Mo Ran 1.0 carried over to the next timeline. He hated Chu Wanning for abandoning him. This is solidified in chapter 262 by the undead Taxian-jun pleading to Chu Wanning:

“Don’t betray me” “Don’t leave me the second time. The first time you left, I could choose death as a relief. This time, even death is not an option any more… I won’t be able to bear it…”

So there it is! I hope this blog brings some new information and feel free to discuss! Let me know if you have any questions for me ＼(￣▽￣)／

Disclaimer: Plenty of this is my conclusion drawn from the already ambiguous original text and various translations. Unless Meatbun says it, it’s not canon. I am looking at the novel in three different languages so I might have made some mistakes. Pls forgive. Also, I am not making excuses for Mo Ran 0.5’s actions nor am I justifying the abuse in any way. Chu Wanning never said Mo Ran 0.5 was innocent of these crimes nor will I.

[siriusmydeer]

ooo okay so a James Potter x reader soulmate au where they feel each others pain, and she has a suspicion he's her soulmate but it's confirmed when he falls off his broom, and she hates him being her soulmate because he's in love with lily, but he says that lily doesn't matter anymore blah blah, and she says she first thought it was him when he fell of a bench in the great hall or something after confessing his love for lily in front of the entire school (1)

‘all along that they were soulmates but she tells him its really inconsiderate for being so obvious about his love for lily when he knew he had a soulmate and he feels really guilty and tries to make it up for her and yeah fluff ending please :)’

the painful soulmate

james potter x fem!reader

summary: in a world where you can feel your soulmates pain; your soulmate happens to think someone else is his soulmate

word count: 2.2k

warning: swearing, mentions of verbally abusing someone, mentions of beating people up, injuries; falling in the air, cracked ribs, tripping, face planting. joking name calling, kissing, angst, soulmate au, insinuation of unrequited love, fluff ending

by the age of 16 you and every other witch along with wizard were given a particular... gift. you wouldn’t consider it a gift, more like your worse fucking nightmare but you could squeal and pretend to be all dainty and excited about meeting your soulmate.

i mean why not give someone a choice on who they wanted to love? this wasn’t a game of spin the bottle this was forever.

being the only female in your friend group, made all the boys amongst you ridiculously pry into your privacy. wanting to know who they had to verbally torture considering they would scoop up the ‘precious little baby-girl’ of the group.

coming directly from the drama queen himself; sirius black. it’s not like they could beat up your partner because you would be able to feel his or her pain as-well.

you were sat in the marauders dorm absently playing with your fingers while looking at each of your mates, sirius and remus attempted to finish their plans on a new prank for the newest defence against the dark arts teacher, james sat at his desk table writing up ways to ask lily more dramatically than the last and peter had been figuring out his transfiguration homework from a few days prior.

“prongs, if you know she’s gonna say no, then why ask?” remus questioned not even looked at the sapphire-eyed boy. his only logic being, ‘well ill turn her no into a yes.’ as if coercion was the way to go.

the brunette sat at the table swiftly turning his head in the lyncanthropes direction, his spectacles almost falling down his nose from the quick snap of his head. “well, lily-pad has always said, ‘not in a million years!’ but that means after a million years she’d go out with me.” finishing his speech with a small grin.

the rest of the group on the other hand looked at him dumbfounded. eyebrows either scrunched or furrowed, “james m’afraid that’s not how it works.” you spoke, trying to ease his feelings as if your words could stop his incessant pining.

“well, i’ll just make it work!” turning around and continuing his list, speaking as if he was godric gryffindor coming up with the best idea of the century. “ten galleons she says no again.” sirius quickly whispers in peters direction, the dirty blonde haired boy doing a quick nod then looking back at his parchment.

“i heard that!”

the next time there was a ramble of soulmate talk, which by the way you were getting exhausted from. why did everyone have to have a soulmate? why couldn’t you pick from your own free will? it’s not even like you could have a bloody crush because there was already someone supposedly out there for you!

one free period, ONE! and it’s spent over peter narrowing down his options on all the gryffindor girls he might be paired with. “it’s definitely not marls, peter.” sirius’ pearl irises glanced at peter than over to remus who was trying to teach you how to play wizards chess.

“moony, not to be offensive, but this game sucks arse.” you shrugged, glaring at your queen piece that looked like it wanted to yell at you. as you were twisting around the wood of your pieces, james got up from the bench catching a glimpse of red among the ravenclaw students. instead tripping on the stone of the bench and face planting into the freshly cut grass.

you felt a soreness at the fronts of your calves and an immense discomfort on your face. you grimaced while rubbing your knees trying to soothe the random shoot of exertion through your veins to the point where you almost had the urge to groan.

james quickly scrambled to his feet trying to brush out his hair that had sprinkles of green all over the front, you completely ignored the fact that james’ fall broken by the stone of the bench had caused you to have a twinge of pain into your system.

“none of you saw that.” he panted with slight embarrassment, directing his message to sirius who had his hand clenched into a fist over his lips attempting to cover up the small chortles that were threatening to escape his lips.

“don’t worry, we saw nothing.” you confirmed with an amused grin, putting your two fingers over your lips like a seal.

he grinned back at you twice as hard, your heart starting more of an upbeat frequency that you started to notice as he sat beside you moving a piece that could ruin remus’ chance at winning.

“you slimy git! you’re helping her cheat, you little slag!” remus whined, trying to analyze the board again.

after your recovery, from absolutely nothing. you were sprawled on the scarlet-couch waiting for the rest of your friends to come back from detention. you dazed into a book remus had recently given to you, an icepack laying on your foot as you were almost hypnotized by the pride and prejudice book in your hands.

“oi, m’lady!” sirius abruptly shouted while returning to his common room. you jumped from the stentorian voice, that sunk into the now not-solemn and peaceful common room.

you turned your head seeing the bespectacled boy limp onto the other vermillion couch and rest his leg onto the plush of the pillow, meanwhile, the fawn and dirty blonde haired boys sat in the gryffindor-red love seats tired from their detention.

“what’s wrong with him?” you asked, referring to james’ leg that was propped under the pillow.

“we don’t know, we were walking and he just picked up his foot in agony. who knows maybe lily stubbed her toe.” sirius amused to the rest of the group. but your eyes widened in concern, but you had— there’s absolutely and completely no way. more than one person can stub their toe in one day, not just— just one person.

almost like you were in a daze or hypnotized, as stealth as possible you grabbed the maroon coloured blanket that was rested on the arm rest of the couch you spread it over your legs covering the foot; that you had injured previously that day.

what the fuck. no seriously, what the fuck. there wasn’t— there couldn’t even be— that wouldn’t work. it’s not possible. the butterflies, the flushed face, the nervous ticks— fuck.

over the course of the next few days, you were very careful. you could’ve been mary friggin’ poppins i mean you didn’t want him to get suspicious if you were both injured at the same time. you also did not want to know if he— the boy pining over lily fucking evans since first year was possibly— no there’s no way.

the following week there was a slytherin and gryffindor quidditch game. which also happened to be incredibly nerve wracking not only for you but between both houses, as much as slytherin wanted to seem nonchalant there act was simply not going to work. this determined who would be playing in the quidditch house cup, slytherins also happened to not play the fairest in quidditch so extra gryffindor training was keen.

well now that following week, was today. the game was fine, great even. gryffindor was in the lead and james was about to score a quaffle in the hoop, that was until slytherin beater decided to bat a bludger right into james torso causing him to collapse off his broom twenty five feet into the air with nothing to break his fall. at the reflect of the bludger on james ribs you already groaned hunched over into your seat catches the attention of both peter and sirius.

dumbledore did all the spells he could in such a swiftly manner before james skidded on the muddy grass of the pitch. by then you couldn’t even hold in the moans and groans from his affliction with the hard iron bludger and the fall from the air.

both peter and sirius’ eyes widened and shared a look before taking concern to your arching figure. “m’god i didn’t think it hurt that bad!” you groaned into your hands that could almost be seen as trembling from the agony that you were in as james’ team mates brought him down to the infirmary to check for injuries which he did in-fact have.

after sirius had brought you to your dorm, attempting to do a spell to rid you of most-but not all of your pain he raced to healers wing, seeing james on the verge of unconsciousness as madam pomfrey tried to whip up a potion in a fast manner to heal the boy.

i guess it was true— james was your soulmate. your soulmate in love with another woman that is.

a few hours later james was ordered to stay the night for observation, while both sirius and peter decided to catch up remus along with james up on the other ‘things’ more, or less, that occurred during the quidditch match.

him, and lily.... weren’t soulmates? he thought maybe one day they would’ve ended up together, at some point. not his very best friend being the one he’s ‘destined’ with. but he was desperate to speak with you, how did you know? did you even know? how bad did it hurt? he had so many questions scattered around his brain, until he saw your face that was close to a grimace from pain.

“hi.” you whispered, catching his attention.

“hey.” he whispered back hoarsely, gulping at the sudden tension in the room.

“so we’re—“ “you’re my—“ you both spoke at the same time, following an humourless more-so nervous chuckle, from the both of you.

“how long— did you even know?” james started, looking at your figure as if you didn’t know what to do with yourself.

you sat down nervously, cracking your knuckles as you were unsure where to start. “i thought— i started wondering, that day me and rem were playing chess and you fell.” you cleared your throat while speaking, avoiding eye contact entirely. “my knees started to hurt, but i didn’t even notice it. the day that you came into the common room limping, was when i suspected it.” you wrung your fingers together nervously, then looking into his irises.

“you knew? why didn’t you—“ his anger already starting to get the best of him, you knew that you were his soulmate. you were right in-front of him, but you never told him; he almost felt betrayed.

“i didn’t know! only suspected. but you have to understand, james. you were incessantly pinning after lily, you claimed you were ‘in love with her’. you’re making it seem like it was gonna be so easy for me to tell you that ‘guess what, james! the girl you love actually isn’t your soulmate and it’s your best friend you have no interest in!’ prongs, m’fraud s’not that easy.” you mocked, proving your correct argument to him based on his actions.

he took a shaky breath, analyzing basically his whole life in-front of him. even though he might’ve ‘loved’ lily, you were still more important to him. soulmate or not, he would always go to you first. he could barely stand to fight with you, he couldn’t loose you over some silly crush that he had.

“it doesn’t matter— lily— she doesn’t matter. y/n it’s you, soulmate, not soulmate, who cares! lily or not lily, you’ve always been my go-to, my number one, i mean you’ve always been the most important!” he said drastically while punctuating his words, and flailing his arms in the air to prove his point to you.

you sighed looking at him, almost unsure of his words. he looked at you expectantly before speaking again, “i’ll get on my knees right now and beg to you. with broken— well now bruised but priory broken ribs. not to mention my stubbed toe.” he chuckled at last second trying to humour you.

“oh my g— get up!” you snickered at him, james potter was on his knees fighting all the pride in his system right in-front of you where you were sat. his hands grasped both sides of your thighs trying to soothe you into you forgiving him.

at the sight of him right infront of you, with the best sirius black puppy dog eyes he could muster with a pouted lip you immediately gave in. “fine.” you sighed, “fine, fine, fine.” you giggled.

both of his hands encasing your cheeks, a small pout on your lips. “can i kiss you?” he asked, his elbows resting on your thighs. you looked at him pretending to ponder off in thought; shrugging while you spoke, “hmmm, maybe. i gues—“ he quickly cut you off, kissing your pouted lips in the middle of a sentence.

you kissed back, holding his face between your agile fingers. your right hand resting on his squared jaw and the other in his fluffy and borderline-sweaty hair. your lips slotting together, he could feel the mint taste from the gum you have chewed earlier bleed onto his tastebuds; you on the other hand, not such a memorable taste.

you quickly pulled away, a dramatic whine escaping from his throat. “you remember when you face planted into the dirt earlier?” you giggled while asking him. he looked at you confused; why would... you... be asking if he remembered himself falling?

“erm, yeah i can recall.”

“yeah your mouth tastes like dirt.”

taglist: @fathermarty @kittykylax @ronweasleyluvr @aspiringsloth20 @dear-luna @famdomhideout @hufflepogue

if your username is crossed out that means you gave me the wrong username or your settings for public display tags are off!

[tth-pdf]

Burning for love; JJK [02]

Contents: Smut, like a little heavy, but just a little, this just started, dirty talk, supernatural, romance, fluff and another painfully unedited chapter.

Pairing: Werewolf!alpha!jungkook x Omega!reader

Summary: A handsome man is hunting you in the dreams world, making every day more difficult to repress the need to come and find him in the middle of the night to submit yourself to his every wish.

Requests: ON

A/N: Hello little ones, I’m really sorry about this chapter because don’t know if this is what you were waiting for but mainly for the time that I promised before but it actually took me more than I thought and this is a tiny bit longer than what I was used to, so hope this makes something for you, thank you for reading! 😭😭😔😔🥺🥺💖💖

Jungkook wasn’t feeling himself that day and the fact that he did’t really knew what was happening with his mind was not really great, all that plus that attitude of yours adopted after knowing the truth behind the bond between your (by that time) unknown mate, so after that one and only night that you let him have you for himself and just himself he knew that he would never had enough of you. Ever since he was just a little pup learning how to shift, watching you so timid, behind your mom’s legs, smaller in size than him and afraid that you wouldn’t be able to have friends, but in fact every single one of the pups around you wanted to be your friend, your glow was just like that, so attracting even as a kid but sometimes you were a little overwhelmed with the attention, almost on the verge of tears, even at that time, being so little old he would feel the need to drop everything he was doing and just held you, maybe a little kiss on the cheek, but just with you, he would cringe if he had to kiss other girls cheek, he wanted to protect you. So his mother knew before himself, and she would just watch with heart eyes, eventually she would explain to him the paths that the moon weaves on her own to reunite two souls destined to be one, and he thought he was dreaming, but he had to wait, until you were ready. You were always good friends, not too close since you were still too shy, just enough to let him scent you every now and then, let him walk you home and even held your hand in the way to end with just a tiny hug but he started to grow up and since he was two years older than you he presented as an alpha first, he had to learn what a heat was, the pain of being incapable of touching you and showing you how much he wanted to spend his life with you, the pain that caused by having you so close but so far away. His mother and father were watching with concern and living the difficulties with him, everything was tolerable until Jungkook turned eighteen, his wolf becoming stronger and more demanding, clawing at him to come and get you but a little part of his brain reminded him that you were only sixteen and not prepared yet, so his parents, with the intention of distracting his mind sent him away to a camp were other future pack leaders trained to make the best of their abilities and it actually worked, but when he was back, a year and a half later, you being a young lady with new fucking aromas, it felt like you were a damn drug, your hormones changed and you were almost ready, but he couldn’t do anything about his desire so he walked away from you and you thought that he hated you, that somehow he changed his mind about you all this time by himself but boy, you couldn’t be more wrong. You tried, you really tried, tried to forget about how he scented you, kept an eye on you in case you would need help, little gazes around, expressing something without the need of words, tried to forget his puppy eyes and that pretty smile of his, not even mentioning the protective bubble that somehow he manages to create for you, but when you thought that every little detail was finally out of your mind your omega blood kicked you in the ribs and the dreams started to come and go, your mind understanding all the feelings that you had with him, but you didn’t wanted it that way, you wanted to be paired with someone simple, just like you, not really wanting to be the center of attention and being with Jungkook just meant getting hateful glances from the pretty omegas around, Jungkook was wanted in more that one way and transporting both of your thoughts to right now, this moment, you wrapped around his hard body as if your life depended on it, reminded you that after all you would be the one he held at the end of the day, always.

It’s to this point that you don’t have idea how both of you ended in what you supposed is his room or at least a place where he spends a lot of time, judging only by the incredible and strong scent of him everywhere.

“Don’t worry my pretty angel, I built this place just for you. I knew since the very first moment I laid eyes on you that you will be mine and a good alpha is the one who takes good care of his omega, right?”

If your mind was gone before now you feel like floating, but at the same time all that’s in your mind is him, him, him and him alone.

He’s caressing your cheek while he’s talking, the timbre of his voice like silk hugging your sense of hearing, your sense of touch screaming for you to past your fingertips between his silky hair strands and to trace his lips, your sense of taste aching to know every single one of his flavors and your sense of smell… Oh hell, that blessing of a powerful sense of smell, sometimes a blessing and sometimes a curse, but right now there’s nothing more pleasant for the omega blood running through your veins than that, you wish you could melt with him, right now you feel like its not enough, even with you straddling him, nose buried deep in his scent gland and rubbing yourself on him.

“Pretty girl is having a hard time, isn’t she, where do you want me to touch, huh, honey?”

You couldn’t wait any longer so instantly after he finished that words your hand took his to tease yourself a little, closed eyes while you traveled his hand in the middle of your chest, down your tummy and finally over your hot and aching center.

“Gods above, I swear I can smell every little detail, have I triggered your rut sweet baby?”

You felt like simple jello between the fingers of your seductive lover.

“You want me to rub you over all this layers of clothes, don’t you want me to use my mouth on this glorious cunt of yours, knock you up with a healthy litter of pups, with this amazing tits to drink from, gods, such a dream for your alpha”

There wasn’t any rational thoughts in your mind right now, everything was kind of too much, the roughness of the sheets under both of you, the roughness of his fingers, everything was too hot.

“You made me wait so long for you. My little omega does not have idea of the pain I used to feel just by seeing you smile and blush, felt like a sin to me, smelling like one too”

By the time he’s saying that he was changing positions kneeling you right in front of his pretty thighs.

“I’m really sorry for you puppy, but you will have to wait just like me back then”

You were slightly confused, since your mind was all over your man and suddenly losing his warm touch when he kneel you before him.

“Touch me now little one, touch me with that silky hands, put that pretty mouth of yours on me”

You were gone again, you have never sucked someone off but you were entirely being guided by the heat of the moment and natural instincts.

“Pull me out of the pants angel”

You did as you were commanded, a pretty long length was released in front of your eyes, making you salivate just at the mere view, flushed and veiny, definitely pretty.

“What should I…”

Jungkook could only smile at you with that beautiful glint in the eyes, possessiveness.

“Lick me sweet angel, as if I was your favorite sweet”

Once again you obeyed the orders of your alpha, licking a stripe up his pretty cock just to add a little suck to the dripping head, making him release a loud moan, hands instantly grabbing your hair and guiding your head up and down.

“So good baby, such a good girl, little obedient bitch for the one who owns you, suck a little harder baby, not gonna break”

You did it and he let his head fall back, letting you see his neck, his Adam’s apple bob, more veins appearing in his perfect skin but what caught your eye was a single and simple little place, where you knew he had his scent glands, your little heaven in other words, guided just by the thought of it your canines started to grow in size, wanted to mark what was by the law of the moon yours, but snapped back to reality when you heard him hiss in pain, making him met you worry eyes.

“Hey little one, careful there, it hurst a little bad if you use that fierce canines, you will get what you want if I think you deserve that, so work hard”

His eyes were telling you to behave and to keep going so you attached your lips once more to the head of his length licking and sucking what he had to offer for you, taking little breaks to just breathe a little deeper, only for him to grab again your head and stuffed your mouth full, rough and encouraging him to just go deeper, choking you.

“That’s right sweet angel, choke on that cock, hurt a little that throat of yours just for tomorrow to remember that your big bad aloha did it”

He was loosing himself a little too quickly without giving you nothing, so he separated you from his core, watching with love and lustful eyes the way his cock was connected to your lips by a mixture of his precum and your saliva.

“Bring yourself over here precious thing and let me have a taste of you”

Legs guided purely by the desire burning inside your body, not even thinking twice and throwing yourself in the mattress , imagining already the worship of your beloved mate, shyness suddenly hitting you hard and attempting to close your legs and hide your burning core from hungry eyes.

“Come on sweet girl, don’t be so shy when seconds ago you were all over my cock, I will show you exactly how perfect I am for you so you don’t have that stupid ideas again, of giving yourself to another wolf, even knowing that you will always end up in my arms.”

You frown, taken aback by the little sentence at the end.

“How did you…?”

You were a little surprised that he somehow found out that little comment you have made to one of your closest friends, you had made it without thinking, full of anger after you found out who was you alpha.

“You thought that I would never now?, that little comment that made want to rip every throat in my way, especially the one of that little weak alpha you compared me with…He would never have a female like you, only because you are mine, mine and mine alone, remember that we are connected honey, anywhere you go my senses will be right behind you, that’s a little of how much you drive me crazy and you have to always remember that the moon never makes mistakes”

After that sentence he buried his head deep between your legs, licking a long stripe in that delicate and most intimate part of your body making you look up at the ceiling and letting out the most lustful moan in your short life but the fact that you wasn’t looking right at him while he ate you out with all the love and the possessiveness in the world made him mad enough to suck harder and harder on the sensitive bundle of nerves situated right in the center of your core, taking out of you a little groan of pain, not being prepared for his rough teeth and tongue.

“Look at me my sweet angel, why don’t you want to see your alpha praised your body, watch me prepare you to be the mother of my pups, oh yes honey I know you would raise them well, gods above, our pack will see you so pretty with a big baby bump and smelling of me everywhere”

And at this point you wanted everything he wanted, he was yours and you were his, his desires and dreams were also yours, wherever he went you would be right by his side, expecting to fill any need that he might have, as soon as he bruised your skin with that fangs of his, marking you for life, there will be no return.

Tag list: @min-nicoleee, @in-a-way-that-i-should-not, @imluckybitches, @teresaisla.

Next update: ?

All rights reserved.

[vickyvicarious]

A short late-night ficlet based off an ask sent to @captainkirkk that I saw reblogged by @muffinlance .

Now on AO3: the place you need to reach

What if Azula had been the one to burn Zuko?

.

Zuko thought - he'd thought it would be General Bujing. It made sense, that was who he'd disrespected, that was what he had done that was wrong, speaking out of turn when he should've known better -

When he said he wasn't afraid to fight, he had thought it would be against someone who had done wrong. Someone who would hurt the very people that he was supposed to protect. Someone who the Fire Lord felt it his duty to support, but - but not a person who mattered. No one who would propose such a plan could really matter.

He took a deep breath and stood, turning to face his opponent. Ready to strike them down.

And Azula smiled at him, from what suddenly seemed very far away.

"Father," Zuko said. He wanted to yank his head away, to stare at the seat of honor where Ozai sat watching, but his sister's smile was so very sharp. "Father, I thought - I don't -"

"You will fight for your honor," his father said. Azula began walking forward, each step measured and slow. "Show that you are not weaker than a mere child. Learn respect from the princess who has always shown it."

Zuko watched Azula approach, steady and smiling. Her hair pulled up and back, her hands relaxed at her sides. She was too young to fight an Agni Kai. Truthfully, Zuko was on the verge of being too young, himself - but it wasn't right for her, barely past her tenth year. It had never been done, not that he knew of.

He hadn't disrespected her. He hadn't spoken a word to her.

"Fight me, Prince Zuko," Azula said, close enough now to touch. Her smile was a poison thing. She looked happy to be here. Proud of herself.

Of course she felt proud, she was about to defeat him in front of all the world. To dishonor him, to demonstrate that the prince was not only a fool but a weakling at that, unable to match his own younger sibling. Zuko felt such a rage flare up in him suddenly, such a hatred that fire was sparking off his hands before they were even fully raised.

"I spoke with the Fire Nation's best interest at heart," he said, shifting his stance into a ready position. "I meant no disrespect!"

His voice rose to a shout against his will. His fingers were trembling. He wanted to turn, to face his father and ask openly for forgiveness. Azula shouldn't be here. She was too young, she hadn't been in the room. She would not be here unless Ozai was very angry.

Zuko had not fought his sister in years, since she had moved on to more advanced sets and a new firebending tutor more skilled than his own. Even so long ago, she had always won. Everyone in the Inner Palace knew the young princess was a prodigy, far outstripping her talentless brother.

Azula's regal smile slid wider, showed her teeth. She finally lifted her hands.

"It's alright, brother," she said. Kept her eyes locked on his: "I will teach you respect."

Zuko moved first, feeling something like a sob building in his chest. He already knew he would lose. He knew he would never win against her.

.

She didn't tire. Didn't err. Moved deadly, quick and precise and her fire bled blue through the center of his own, again and again.

Zuko did his best. He didn't hesitate, didn't falter even when his techniques were shown to be lacking, again and again and brutally still more. She knocked him to the floor each time, and then stepped back.

Waited for him to get back up, every time.

Zuko did. He was sweating hard, his muscles aching, his heart racing. Small burns dotted his torso, souvenirs of a hundred successful hits. His hair was falling into his eyes.

For her part, Azula still looked perfect. The picture of an honorable warrior. Her breathing remained steady, her eyes shining bright. She grinned at Zuko as though they were playing a game, as though Mom would be along soon and scold them for playing too rough.

Zuko's breath came harder and harder. It was so loud in the quiet of the hall. He knew he was scowling, knew he looked a mess. He knew they could all see how this would end. He knew, knew without ever looking once, that Ozai would be frowning, ashamed of his heir's shameful display.

It wasn't fair. Azula shouldn't be here. She was too young, he hadn't wronged her, she was too strong for him and Father knew that, everyone knew he couldn't defeat her -

She wouldn't have fought to enter the meeting. She wouldn't have spoken out of turn. She wouldn't ever show such a disgraceful performance as this, skidding down to her knees yet again, sobbing on a harsh breath out, shaking all over. Getting back up.

Azula knew respect. Zuko knew only that he couldn't give up.

He hated her for letting him rise every time. For never dealing the final blow. It was nothing but cruelty, but she kept smiling, she looked so so very proud -

.

This was no Agni Kai anymore.

Zuko could barely produce a single flame. He couldn't think, couldn't remember even the most basic forms. He even tried to tackle her, graceless and inelegant and no honor to anyone involved. Of course he failed.

The deathly silence of the crowd had vanished, a low murmur filling the hall instead. It wasn't proper, an Agni Kai deserved a respectful hush, but Zuko wasn't fighting an Agni Kai anymore. He didn't know what he was fighting. He only knew that he couldn't stop, couldn't give in, couldn't let himself fall and stay fallen because if he did -

If he did, Father -

He had been crying for a while now. Azula wasn't smiling anymore.

Her form was still perfect, but her face had grown pale. She didn't wait as long for him to rise from each new blow; dove back in the instant he staggered upright, hit harder each time. Her fire was so hot against his bare skin, new burns on his chest pulling with each gasping breath. He could tell she was growing frustrated. Knew she wanted him to just give up.

He didn't know if she understood why he couldn't. If his opponent had been anyone else, any other person, he would. He'd let himself slide to the floor and accept his defeat with grace. He'd still lose his honor, still fall far in the eyes of his people, but he would be seen as a prince who'd made a mistake and could learn from it. The consequences wouldn't last forever.

If he allowed his sister to defeat him like this, in front of everyone like this, with his honor on the line - if Zuko surrendered here, Ozai would never look his way again. He couldn't explain how he knew this; he'd simply understood, from the moment he saw Azula. His father had chosen this test for him, had ordered him to learn respect, and if he lost here he would lose everything.

Azula hit harder and harder and hotter, her eyes panicked now. She was so smart, had been a genius from the cradle. She'd always been better than Zuko, had always been the clever one who thought things through to their conclusions. How was it she hadn't seen the ramifications of this from the start?

Everyone knew an Agni Kai could only end in surrender or death.

Azula sent him tumbling again, rolling to a painful halt on the edge of the raised platform. Zuko gasped, choked down bile. When he lifted his head he saw the Fire Lord, seated directly across from him. His face was shadowed, beyond the reach of the torches, but he sat tall and strong.

Zuko stared into those shadows as he dragged himself to his knees once again, thought a tiny formless prayer, just please. He didn't know who he was asking, or for what.

"Azula," the Fire Lord said, voice firm and clear. "Teach him."

Zuko didn't have any time to move. She stepped in front of him, blocking his view of his father. He had no time, no strength to rise anymore regardless, could only look up at her and -

And she looked so scared -

But her fist was drawn back and burning the brightest blue. It shot forward and Zuko was too tired to dodge. He'd known all along it would end like this.

He forgot not to scream.

.

The Fire Lord pronounced that Prince Zuko had shown great dishonor during his Agni Kai. He had refused to stop fighting; his inability to acknowledge the superior strength of his opponent was a shameful display that only highlighted his own weakness. As punishment, he was banished. Only when he captured the Avatar would he regain his honor and be allowed to return home.

All agreed that Princess Azula had shown great skill and wisdom. Though only a child, she had completely outmatched her older opponent, and her future clearly held great promise. Her only error was small, hardly worth mentioning, a perfectly understandable fatigue after such a drawn-out battle: the final blow losing its distinctive blue heat, fading to a cooler orange just before it hit.

[imasimpforshanks]

Hi there!

I hope you're doing great. Ehm... May I requests Law for either the romantic or the Angst alphabet? I just can't decide that and would like you to choose from it.

I'm really looking forward to your work. Other than that have a nice day/eve. ♡

Fluff Alphabet - Trafalgar Law

a/n: hi there!!! thank you for requesting and for your kind words 💓 I chose the fluff alphabet because our man has suffered enough and I couldn’t handle writing out angst for him 🙃 ANWAYSSSS pls enjoy x

A-Activities (what do they like to do with their s/o? How do they spend their free time with them?)

During the little free time he has, Law loves to spend it with you doing anything lowkey. He’s usually pretty exhausted from everything going on, so taking some time to wind down and read a good book with you tucked him next to him reading you’re a book of your own is his ideal way to spend time with you.

That being said, if you are a person who prefers to do something active, Law won’t say no to that (so long as it’s not Luffy level active).

B-Beauty (what do they admire about their s/o? what do they think is beautiful about them?)

Law admires your way of thinking. You always seem to bring a fresh, unique perspective and now he can’t help but ask for your input on everything. This is also what he finds the most beautiful about you. He’s never been one to care that much about what is on the outside. To Law, it’s what is on the inside that counts (who knew law was so cliché;)). Your mind and the way it works is a wonder to behold and Law counts himself very lucky that he is the one that gets to see you in action the most.

C-Comfort (how would they help their s/o when they feel down/have a panic attack etc.?)

Law takes a very pragmatic approach when it comes to comforting his s/o. He’s a doctor, so its only natural for him to think in this way. He asks you directly what’s wrong and how he could help – it’s the most logical thing to do and the quickest way to ensure you are feeling comforted.

D-Dreams (how do they picture the future with their s/o?)

In the future Law wants to live a simple, quiet life with you. Somewhere secluded and far away from all the noise and chaos of the world. You’ll live in a nice house (nothing too fancy), with a child or two running around acting out their parents’ infamous pirate adventures.

E-Equal (are they the dominant one in the relationship or rather passive?)

He tends to take the more dominant role in the relationship. For the sake of your safety and his sanity, he prefers to be the one to take charge with you following his lead. But, he does still value your input in almost all decisions.

F-Fight (would they be easy to forgive their s/o? How are they fighting?)

Your fights tend to be pretty short lived resulting in forgiveness and apologies from both sides relatively quickly. He really doesn’t like to stay mad at you for too long – he’d much rather have you two on the same page.

Most fights are caused by stress and concerns of health and safety, so Law does a lot of eye rolling and using his title as a ‘doctor’ as justification that he knows what he’s doing so you just need to chill – but like I said these fights are very short lived.

G-Gratitude (how grateful are they in general? Are they aware of what their s/o is doing for them?)

Before he met you, Law’s life was very dull. Yes, he has his fair share of adventures and fun with his crew, but there was something missing from his life. But then you came along, bringing a little more colour into his life. Instead of being exhausted and tense from dealing with everything alone, you forced your way in and pried him open, allowing him to share his burdens. For that, Law is eternally grateful.

H-Honesty (do they have secrets they hide from their s/o? Or do they share everything?)

Initially, Law tried to hide quite a lot. He was very selective about the information he shared with you. It’s not that he didn’t trust you, he just struggled to share things with others – his past has made him very closed off. But, before he knew it you managed to weasel your way in, and soon he found himself confiding in you about everything. The only time he ever keeps a secret is if knowing it will jeopardize your safety.

I-Inspiration (did their s/o change them somehow, or the other way around? Like trying out new things or helped them overcome personal problems?)

I touched on this a little bit before, but you were able to teach Law the relief and comfort that comes with trusting and relying on others. Because of you, he was able to learn that its important to not deal with everything on your own.

J-Jealousy (do they get jealous easily? How do they deal with it?).

It’s not often that Law gets jealous. It’s an ugly emotion, plus he feels no need to be jealous since he trust you with his whole heart. However, if he was to get jealous, he is definitely the quiet jealous type. His fists clench a little tighter, his frown deepens ever so slightly, and he just doesn’t speak. He doesn’t ignore you though, rather he chooses to curt replies until he eventually gets over it or if it’s really bothering him he may bring it up with you.

K-Kisses (are they a good kisser? What was the first kiss like?).

He is a very inexperienced kisser, not having (or wanting) many romantic relationships in his past. Even so, he’s surprisingly not horrible (but not great either) at kissing. Maybe it has something to do with his deep knowledge and understanding of the way the human body works. Unfortunately, during your first kiss he tried to rely a little too much on his ‘knowledge’ rather than melting in to it. It wasn’t a horrible first kiss, it just felt a little stiff. The desire was there, but it was as if he were afraid to give in to the emotions he was feeling and reading your signals. However, after a little communication and guidance he’s now an expert.

L-Love confession (how would they confess to their s/o?)

It was in the heat of the moment after you had done something completely and utterly stupid, that almost cost you your life. He wasn’t intending on doing it right then and there, in fact he actually had a whole plan of how and when he was going to tell you how he felt. But seeing you lying in the infirmary after having to operate on you was more than he could handle and before he knew it the words just slipped out.

M-Marriage (do they want to get married? How do they propose? What would the marriage be like?)

Marriage is indeed something Law wants. You wouldn’t expect it but after you two officially got together, it wasn’t more than a month before Law started thinking about marriage. He knows now isn’t the time for marriage, but it’s definitely in his plans for the next few years or so.

His proposal is going to be low key. The two of you would have to be alone with no other people around – maybe while you two are lying in bed one night, he just pops the question. And as with the proposal, your wedding would also be low key. No big party or ceremony, just you two and the people closest to you (bepo definitely officiates).

N-Nicknames (what do they call their s/o?)

‘Babe’ or your name are his usual choices for when you are around other people. But occasionally when he’s on the verge of falling asleep he’ll let out a yawn followed by a sleepy “babyyyy”.

O-On cloud nine (what are they like when they are in love? Is it obvious for others? How do they express their feelings?)

When Law is in love he tends to keep his cool and collected façade. But on the inside he’s a babbling, nervous mess. He doesn’t do anything particularly out of the ordinary other than making a bit more of an attempt at conversing with you. He loves hearing you talk and rambling on about things you’re passionate about so he does try to find any excuse to talk to you.

P-PDA (are they upfront about their relationship? Do they brag with their s/o in front of others? Or are they rather shy to kiss etc. when others are watching?)

PDA is something Law isn’t the biggest fan of. He’ll stand next to you and be in close proximity while sharing a few glances, but other than that he won’t engage in PDA. Law considers that sort of thing to be private and intimate so he likes to keep it between the two of you. Occasionally, if you are feeling a little extra needy he may give in to a quick hug or forehead kiss.

Q-Quirk (some random ability they have that is beneficial in a relationship?)

It may not come as that much of a surprise but, Law can make one hell of a cup of coffee (actually any hot drink really). His perfect brew definitely comes in handy.

R-Romance (how romantic are they? What would they do to make their s/o happy? Cliché or rather creative?)

Oh boy, he is way more romantic than anyone would ever realize. He loves doing little things for you just to see that sweet smile on your face. It makes his heart swell with happiness.

S-Support (are they helping their s/o achieve their goals do they believe in them?)

Rather than being the consistently positive support, Law provides you with constructive criticism and things that can actively help you achieve your goals. He’s a realist, so doesn’t think only saying “you can do it” or “it’s only a minor setback” is the way to go. He still says those things because they are true – Law honestly believes you can do whatever you set your mind to, however, constructive criticism is needed in addition to this.

The key take away here is: YES. Law believes you can achieve all your hopes and dreams.

T-Thrill (do they need to try out new things to spice out your relationship or do they prefer certain routine?)

Law needs routine, especially in your relationship. You have continued doing the same things in your relationship since you first got together because it works. Why would he want to change what works? It’s safe, it’s familiar, and it’s comfortable.

That being said, he’s not opposed to the idea of spicing things up. If you ever felt like trying something new (or even if he starts to feel bored about something), he would be open to the idea. Who knows, maybe the new thing you try could even become a part of your routine.

U-Understanding (how good do they know their partner? Are they empathetic?)

It’s no surprise that he is very adept at reading people, he’s on to it and has exceptional observation skills. He uses these skills with you as well.

He knows what it’s like to be consumed by emotions (in fact he knows that too well), and while with most, he’s the type to keep his emotions hidden, when it comes to you he shares his emotions to help you realize that he also knows how it feels and that you are not alone.

V-Value (how important is the relationship to them? What is its worth in comparison to other things in their life?).

Your relationship is a top priority in his life. He’s lost everyone he ever cares about (other than his crew) and there is no way he is going to lose you too. The only thing that may potentially rival your relationship is his goal of taking revenge on Doflamingo.

W-Wild card (a random fluff headcanon?)

There’s nothing he loves more than you running your hands through his hair while his head is on your chest or stomach. He automatically leans into your hand every time. He feels the safest in this position.

X-XOXO (Are they very affectionate? Do they love to kiss and cuddle?)

Like I said before, he is affectionate but it’s mainly when the two of you are alone. Those displays of affection are for the two of you and no one else. But, when the two of you are alone he absolutely loves cuddles (especially lying with his head on your lap or chest).

Y- Yearning (how will they cope when they are missing their partner?)

He gets stressed when you’re not around for more than one reason. Firstly, you can’t help to calm him down and force him to take a breather. Secondly, he’s constantly worried about your safety and wellbeing.

Honestly, the only way he copes with it is by stressing (I know it’s not coping at all but I mean that’s Law for you LMAO).

Z-Zeal (are they willing to go to great lengths for the relationship? If so, what kind?)

Law would put his life on the line for your relationship. He doesn’t want to lose someone he cares about – not again. He can’t handle that sort of pain, so if it was required of him, he would gladly give his life.

[uglypastels]

Slide In // Frat!Tom

(a/n) I’ve never written this au before, in like a full fic i think, so i have no idea if this is good, but i had this idea in the middle of the night and yeah. I hope you guys enjoy. this may or may not have been inspired by a certain post @duskholland made about Tom and his mirror selfies <3 how amazing that he literally just posted one today lol

word count: 16.7k

warning: drinking, mention of drug use (weed), school, social anxiety, some smexy innuendos. i made some big last minute changes, so i hope its all coherent. 

DEEPFAVE: Liking a photo (or any post) from over a year ago.

It was a cloudy morning, and it was early. Really really early. Not even the birds felt up to it, it felt like. The campus was slowly awakening or going to sleep (depending on if you had been to last night’s Delta Kappa party, of course). 

It was cold, and the leaves fell off the branches with each huff of the morning breeze. The grass was wet from the previous night’s rain, and it soaked your ankles as you ran through the small grass field, in hopes to cut a bit off the distance to your lecture hall. 

It had not been your fault that you overslept. You had gone to bed early; your backpack was already packed for the next morning. It was supposed to be a relaxing morning, perfect for easing back into it after a week of sleeping in and celebrating the holidays. How could you have expected that your roommate would barge into your dorm at 2 am, still whoo-ing her drunk ass in the corridor with other wasted idiots? 

And it wasn’t like you were against all that partying and drinking. You would have gone yourself to the frat party, but it just didn’t sit right with you. A giant house full of intoxicated strangers- the anxiety running through you just thinking about it was making you shake. 

So, instead of “living a little”, as your older brother called it, you preferred to stay in bed most evenings, either watching Netflix or reading a book. Yet, still, you had been kept awake for so long last night that you slept through your alarm. What was supposed to be a calm morning turned out to be ten minutes of rushed panic. Eventually, you had decided to skip most of your morning routine, including breakfast, brushing your hair or even putting on a decent outfit. You ran out of your dorm, clutching on to your bag, phone and keys.

Your hair was reasonably alright. It was still in the braid you had made before going to bed, but a lot of hair had fallen out during your slumber. When you looked in the mirror though, you saw that it looked decent so you let it be. Not so much could have been said for your outfit. You kept on the same shirt in which you slept in, which was a slightly oversized grey graphic tee from a random indie concert you had been to ages ago. Unfortunately, it was so cold that you couldn’t just go outside in your shorts, so had to spend a precious minute slipping into a pair of sweatpants that were actually not as bum-looking as you had feared.

Luckily, the walk (or in this situation, run) to the lecture hall was short. So, you survived with only a thick sweater over your arms. 

And so, just like that, you were running through campus. The cold air was piercing your lungs as you inhaled deeply. Each breath started with this whistling sound, as you tried to ignore that pain, and ended in an exhale of a cloud of condensation. Maybe you weren’t in the best shape, but even this horrible experience would not make you sign up for the campus gym. No way. 

You could see the lecture hall doors, the wide wooden panelling already towering over you, and you slowed down. You were trying to catch your breath and composure. As always, the doors were heavy and to add to it, the wood could not handle the temperature, so it was even harder to open them. 

“Oh, let me,” you suddenly heard behind you, almost making you jump. The voice sounded familiar, but it wouldn’t click to a particular face just yet. 

“Thanks,” you breathed out as an arm extended from behind you, clad in a leather jacket, and pushed the door open with ease. You followed the arm up with your eyes and saw how it connected to an actual person. Yes, you definitely recognised him. But what was his name again? 

T- something starting with a T. 

He smiled at you politely, nodding the gesture for you to go inside. 

“Thanks,” you said again, before finally moving. 

“No problem,” he was walking behind you but quickly caught up to your side. You saw in his hand a Starbucks coffee, which almost made your mouth water. 

“Professor Dowling’s lecture, right?” he asked, before taking a sip. Your eyes unconsciously followed the movement as the need for caffeine was growing. 

“Uh, yeah. Yeah,” you shook your head, focusing on anything but the delicious rich smell that you could sense coming from the cup—dark roast. 

“Well, good to know I won’t be the only one late,” he chuckled. Troy? Was that his name? No. He didn’t look like a Troy. 

“We’re not that late,” you checked your phone and cursed internally, “only… nine minutes.” 

“Dowling doesn’t care if it’s nine minutes or nine hours. Late is late.” He took another sip. You had to look away before your stomach realised how empty it really was. 

“True, I guess. Well, it was nice knowing you.” You sighed as you had reached the second door leading to the lecture room. Ty raised an eyebrow. No, his name was definitely not Ty. What was it?!

“What do you mean?” 

“Well, Dowling is gonna kill us, isn’t he?” You explained, and he nodded in agreement. 

He was again the one to slowly and quietly opened the door, giving you insight into the room. You almost yelled out in excitement when you saw that the lights had been somewhat dimmed for a slideshow that the professor was giving. You have Tim (nope, not Tim) a knowing look and smile. You had been saved. Then, the two of you slipped into the room, letting the doors close themself. You saw a few people turn their heads as you walked by together, searching for a seat, but you didn’t think much of it. You would have looked too if someone dared to be late for one of Dowling’s lectures. 

Finally, you found an empty seat. Two, actually. It was in the back of the class, so you hoped that once the lights would go back on, Dowling wouldn’t immediately notice the addition of two more faces. The mystery guy, as you were too tired to think of more names and decided to give up, sat down next to you. He pulled out his laptop and turned it on, quickly putting it on the lowest setting of brightness. Just before he had opened it up, you noticed a few stickers. Between a few references from tv shows and movies, you saw the logo of Delta Kappa. You only recognised it because you had been seeing the logo on almost every notice board the last few days together with the campus-wide invitation for last night’s party. 

So he was a frat boy. 

You looked up to the side at him as you pulled out your laptop and notebook. The notebook was more for doodling than anything. But also to write down some more of the essential or just entertaining parts of the lecture, since you had come to realise that writing things down by hand helped you remember better. 

Your heart stopped beating for a second as you opened your laptop, praying that no embarrassing tabs were open or, even worse, you still had Spotify playing on full blast. But you could let yourself relax when the laptop just showed you your desktop. 

Right then, you could hear your stomach growl of hunger. 

“Here,” suddenly T, as you decided to call him for the time being, slid over his coffee to your small desk. You looked up at him in confusion. He had a cap on, so there was not much you could see in the dark shadow, but you saw his sincere smile. 

You thanked him before grabbing the cup. Since it was Starbucks, you hoped to learn his name finally. But instead, in black marker, was written “Holland”. Last name. Well, that was something.

_________________________________

“Thank you,” y/n said before grabbing the drink, taking a look at the name written on it, and taking a big sip of it, although she quickly pulled it away from her lips, her face distorted in a sour expression. 

“Sorry,” Tom apologised, “my hand had slipped when I was pouring in the sugar.” 

“Yeah, I can tell,” she whispered, still a bit disgusted, but it didn’t stop her from taking another large sip. “How can you drink this stuff?” 

“Desperate times call for desperate measures.” Tom grinned. 

Times weren’t exactly desperate, in his case. 

The party had been a massive success. Everyone seemed to have had a great time, and this time, not even at the cost of any of the frat house furniture. Sure, some people might have thrown up in the cooking pans, but that could be easily cleaned up by one of the pledges. 

It all ended around 2 am, which was fairly early, but it was, of course, a school night. Tom remembered to drink water before going to sleep and woke up with only a mild headache. A few painkillers solved that pretty quickly. He got up, stumbled a bit over the mess around the house and was on his way to class. 

He was sure he would have made it on time if it wasn’t for his usual appetite and need for coffee. Yes, he could have made it at home, but for some reason, the coffee from that machine always tasted like piss. And Tom did not want to find out why. So, it had almost become routine for him to stop by the Starbucks that was on the way from the house to the lecture halls. 

What he had not expected was the giant line of customers inside. More people had felt the need for coffee after a wild night of partying. He recognised some girls, still wearing the same dresses they wore to the party. A few guys who looked like they were on the verge of death were sipping their drinks in the corner of the room. The two baristas were running around behind the counter, trying to make the drinks as fast as possible. As fellow students, they knew that there were a lot of people rushing to get to class, at least. 

Tom had even looked at his phone, checking the time before he decided to step into the queue. He had majorly misjudged the time it would take the baristas to make the few drinks before it was his turn to order. In the meantime, people would walk up to him, also recognising him from the party, to tell Tom what a great time they had last night. 

Finally, he got his drink and made his way over to the second station and poured in some sugar. For that extra kick of energy, but also, secretly, because he could not stand the bitterness of coffee. Then, it was really time to leave the crowd. Tom never really minded people and was definitely what you call a “social butterfly”, but there was always a limit. And the limit on a Monday morning was minimal. Even smaller, if you are still trying to get rid of a hangover. 

He had just reached the main square of campus when he saw the big clock. He was already late, so it wouldn’t do much to run. Professor Dowling did not care for excuses or how late you were, even if it was a second. So he could as well just take his time. 

Others had different ideas apparently.

Tom watched as someone ran across the grass, clutching on to their backpack. She stopped at the same door that he was heading for, so he got to have a good look first. The first thing he saw was the back of her head. Hair made up in a braid that was falling apart. A large black sweater, probably her boyfriend’s, was covering most of her frame. 

She was trying to pull open the door that had the word PUSH on them, but Tom didn’t say anything. It was early, and by the looks of her, not that he was judging, she didn’t have a great morning. 

When they had made eye contact, he recognised her from the lectures but did not think he had ever heard her name being mentioned. Professor Dowling loved interacting with the class, no matter how large, and often called out people to answer his absurd questions. She had never put her hand up to answer. Tom was sure of it; he would have remembered her name. 

It interested him to see her pull out, not only a laptop but also a notebook. Did people even use those anymore? Even the dim light he could see the words scribbled on the cover. The decorative style did kind of make it hard to miss it. 

Property of y/f/n.

So that was her name. Tom couldn’t help but smile to himself. 

Having already missed the first ten minutes, he tried his best to focus on the words of the professor, but some things just couldn’t go unnoticed. 

By the look y/n was giving his coffee cup, he could tell that she had not had any herself and the sound of her empty stomach as they sat next to each other only confirmed his suspicion. So, it only felt like the right thing to do to give her some. And the smile he got in return definitely made it worth it. 

His attention was entirely gone by that point, as he watched her open her notebook. It was filled with little drawings. Some were more distinct than others. There were the classic five-petal flowers and the single mysterious eye with no other entity attached to it—also a few little scratchy tornadoes and random filigree. Patches of just lines and different patterns filled up the corners and extended out to the middle of the pages. Tom also definitely recognised a few attempts at bringing back the Super S in there. 

But what also filled up the page were little characters. She must have drawn them during the lectures around Halloween because he recognised a little witch, stylised to the perfect amount of cuteness. There was also a cauldron of bats flying off to the side. 

Tom could have looked at it for much longer and still find some more doodles in there, but unfortunately, she flipped the page. This one was blank. She took out a pen and started to doodle mindlessly.

First, a straight line, to which she attached little ovals. Lightly, but the lines got darker, the more she went over it. Then she made some more lighter lines across it. It made him chuckle when he recognised what it finally was—a piece of wheat. The way she stopped drawing for a second, Tom thought that she had not realised what she was drawing either. It was just a random coincidence where a few lines suddenly could make up an existing object. Then she continued. 

From time to time she’d stop to make a note somewhere in the middle of the page, something that professor Dowling said that made her giggle. It was adorable to hear. 

“Now, this,” Tom could hear the professor say from his little podium, the two little words shook everybody in the room awake because those they were code for IMPORTANT. As Dowling kept on talking, y/n closed her notebook and pulled her laptop closer to type. Tom had to pull himself together to focus on the actual lecture.

Then the sound of her stomach pulled him out of that. That was followed by the whisper of an angry “fuck”. Tom looked over to y/n again. She was trying to type something out, but her shaking fingers kept pressing the wrong buttons. She was crumbling apart from hunger. 

Crumbling… 

Suddenly, Tom remembered. He leaned down to look in his bag, hoping it was still there. It was.

“Hey,” he nudged her side, making her look up at him once more, with caution. He grabbed the small pack of Oreos and slid them over to her desk. She looked perplexed. Then she pushed the, slightly flat-looking, cookies back to Tom. He frowned. 

“I thought I’m not supposed to be taking candy from strangers.” She whispered. Tom chuckled and pushed the pack of four cookies back to her. 

“Well, good it’s not candy then. Eat. I can tell you’re starving.”

Y/n looked at the Oreos, not sure whether to take them or not, but her stomach answered for her.  She opened her mouth, but then she closed it again and turned away. Tom understood it. It would have been the fourth time she would have said: “thank you”. By now, he got the message. As she opened the packet of cookies, Tom went back to listening to the lecture. 

_________________________________

You hesitated before taking the cookies. Were they some kind of prank? You knew how frat guys loved to pull jokes on everyone, even if they were no better than middle school hijinks or cheesy April fools clichés. But the silver packet, except that it looked a bit flat, seemed to be untouched. Most likely because of getting squashed by something in his backpack. 

You opened it and were immediately hit with the delicious whiff of chocolate. You took out one cookie and didn’t bother with the usual way of splitting it open to eat the filling first. You needed food. Now. Even if it were just four broken Oreo cookies. It was better than nothing.

Obviously, you were still hungry and in need of a proper breakfast, but the small snack helped you hold out for the rest of the lecture. 

But now that your stomach was sorted for, you had another problem concentrating. Your new, still unnamed, friend tended to type very loudly. At first, you looked over in a bit of annoyance, which made you actually notice his hands. There was nothing special about them. They were naturally just hands, but the way he moved his fingers across the keyboard… it made you look back in that general direction a few times more.

Probably because of all these distractions, the usual hour and 45 minutes felt much shorter. Before you knew it, professor Dowling was saying his goodbyes and everyone around you started packing up their things.

Needing to get some food ASAP, you packed up your things and practically ran out of the room. Only as you were nearing the cafeteria did you realise that you had never said goodbye to your snack provider. 

Shit.

_________________________________

“Hey, so I was thinking-” Tom was going to suggest grabbing a bite for breakfast together, being somewhat hungry himself, but when he looked up y/n had already packed her things and was on her way to the stairs, following the other students out the door. 

Tom sank back down into his seat. 

“Any problems, Mr Holland?” Tom’s head shot forward to see professor Dowling looking up at him. When he looked around, he saw he was the only one who had not started packing up. 

“No, everything’s alright, sir,” Tom said before getting up with his laptop. “Great lecture. Learned a lot... and stuff.” 

“Good, good,” Dowling said. His glasses were slipping off his nose slightly, so he pushed them back up with his middle finger. “I did not expect you to have heard anything, by the way you and miss y/n were chatting.”

The professor’s words made Tom’s cheek burn up as he pushed the laptop back into its place in his bag. That man saw everything.Suddenly he felt as if he was in middle school again.

“Try to not make it a habit.” 

“No, sir,” Tom said.

Dowling just nodded, meaning the conversation had ended and giving Tom permission to sprint out of the room. 

He wasn’t sure why he was in such a hurry. Maybe he was hoping to find y/n waiting outside the doors. He didn’t even know why he wanted to see her there. He just did. He had this urge just to watch her doodle in that notebook of hers. There was something so endearing about it. 

Alas, no one was waiting for him outside that door. Or even in the proximity of it. There was no one but groups of students making their way from and to class. 

Then, Tom realised that she must have run off to the cafeteria. Still, he decided against going there. As much as he wanted to talk to y/n again, he didn’t want to come off stalkerish. Besides, they’d have another class tomorrow. He could speak to her then. 

“Ayo! Holland!” Tom looked over to a group of people he recognised to be his friends. They were gathered around one of the large windows that was open in the hallway. He waved to them before making his way over. 

“What’s up, man? You looked like a lost puppy.” Jacob said. 

“No nothing, I just zoned out a little, I guess.” Tom shook his head, clearing it off thoughts of y/n. 

“Well, we were thinking,” his best friend and fellow Delta Kappa resident, Harrison joined in on the conversation, “There is this new bar opening next week. The… something- shit, what’s it called again?” He looked over at the rest of the group. 

“The Sterling,” it was Zendaya that answered. She was sitting on the window sill with both legs in front of her, not living much space for anyone else to sit. She had something between her fingers, and Tom could not make out if it were a regular cigarette or a joint. (The smell insinuated at nicotine, so that answered for itself.) The fact that they were on campus did not make much difference to them. She took a drag and blew the smoke out, before handing it to Harrison. 

“So, Holland, you’re in?” 

“Yeah of course.” There’s nothing like the hysteria of drinking yourself sick in some new dingy place across campus. A new one would open up every few months because its predecessor would get shut down after too many accounts of selling alcohol to minors. It had almost become a game for younger students to see how quickly they can destroy a business. Tom and Harrison had been record holders for a while. Five weeks. Tom wasn’t exactly sure how anyone could tell they were the reason for The Six-Ball to close, but it didn’t matter. (“With a name like that, they deserve to shut down,” Harrison had joked before ordering two Long Island Iced Teas.)

Now that they were of the legal drinking age, of course, maybe it wasn’t as fun to go to those shitty holes in the wall, but with the right people, they made it a party every time. 

“Nice! So-” Jacob started talking about how he thought the night had to go, but Tom was already zoned out again. Between Zendaya and Harrison, he had the perfect view of the small grass field. Some people had sat down there with their friends to enjoy the midday, but most people still considered it too cold to sit outside. But what Tom was looking at was behind the grass field. It was the cafeteria doors. He saw that large sweater again. y/n walked out, holding something that looked like a sandwich. Tom smiled to himself. 

“What are you smiling about?” He got nudged in the ribs by someone. 

“Oh, you know, the uhm-” he had no idea what the rest of his friends had been talking about to include in his lie.

“I know,” Harrison said, lounging his arm across Tom’s shoulder to point in the same direction that Tom had been looking at. Tom froze up when he pointed straight at y/n with his finger. 

“Angela Pikowski.” 

“What?” It took Tom a second, but indeed, right in front of y/n, stood Angela with her own group of friends. She laughed at something, whipping her bottle bleached blonde hair across her shoulder. He understood too, how Harrison had caught her so quickly in his vision, for she had her jacket open and her shirt was pretty tight and low cut. How did that girl not catch pneumonia or some shit? 

“You ain't slick, bro.” Harrison patted him on the back. Tom, not wanting to get into it more than he needed, just grinned awkwardly. When he looked out into the square, Angela still stood there, but y/n was gone. 

_________________________________

The campus food was never that good, but it didn’t matter. The feelings of having actual food in your body felt so good that it might as well have been a five-course meal from a three-star Michelin restaurant. While, in reality, it was just a little bacon, egg and salad sub on stale bread. 

It did not matter. 

You enjoyed your breakfast as you walked down the path, back to your dorm. After that horrendous morning, and the pretty… interesting lecture, you were ready to lock yourself up in a room and do nothing but watch Netflix. And thankfully, due to having only one morning class, you could actually do it too.  

You said your polite “Hi”s and “Hello”s as you passed some other people you recognised from other classes. A bit hopefully, you were on the lookout for your (still nameless!) friend from the lecture. You really had to figure out what his name was. 

By the time you had reached your dorm building, your sandwich was gone. A part of you was still hungry, but you ignored that. You were probably just bored anyway. 

The dorm hall was basic in every way, from the carpeted grey floor to the plainly painted walls. But the inhabitants, of course, did try to give it some life. They hung up posters and banners, flags and lights. You reached the door that was decorated with a collage of different 80s glam rock artists and walked into your room. That college had been a little bonding experience with your roommate, Marie, during the very first week of Freshman year.

When you walked in, your eyes were immediately drawn to the lump on one of the beds. A groan erupted from underneath it when you switched on the light. 

“Ruuuude,” Marie yelled out. She came out from beneath the sheets. Her hair was bigger than ever, and you could see the mascara and eyeshadow stains under her eyes, and there was still some glitter on her. 

“You know, you should take off your make-up before going to sleep,” You said as you took off your sweater. 

“You know, you should put some on before leaving the house,” she said before diving back underneath her sheets. 

“Ouch,” you both laughed. But you couldn’t help but take a look in the mirror as you passed it. Maybe you could have used some concealer under your eyes, but it wasn’t that bad. Right? 

The room the two of you lived in maybe wasn’t big, but it wasn’t small either. You were definitely one of the luckier people in the building. Your room, after all, had just enough space for the two beds, desks and closets to mirror each other on each side of the room. You also went the extra way to put up some extra shelving on your side above the bed, since one closet was not enough. 

“Didn’t you have class this morning as well?” you asked as you sat down on. You could hear something coming from Marie that resembled an “Mhm”. Not in the talking mood, got it. 

So, in quiet, you pulled out your laptop and searched for something that did not look mind-numbingly dumb to watch, eventually settling for a show you had probably watched five times out of pure overwhelming of choice. After a while of moving around in your bed, you found a comfortable position at last and turned the show on, ready for a day of uninterrupted laziness. 

_________________________________

Tom got home a bit later than he had hoped. After making plans for the next night, his friends were determined to go out for lunch as well. What he thought would be just a quick grab-and-go, turned out to be a full two-hour lunch where they talked about anything and nothing. 

He loved the company of people, but not on Mondays. Mondays were his day to do nothing except for going to class, and Tom felt like he had already done too much. 

When he did get back, people were still busy cleaning the aftermath of the party. It had gone a bit wilder than Tom remembered. Some jackass had decided to spray paint one of the upstairs hallways, and the colour was not easy to get off. Luckily, it had become almost a custom for all the house members to lock their doors during a party. For privacy sake firstly, but like anything at Delta Kappa, it turned a bit into a game. 

The first two unlock their door, either if the person was too tired to stay at the party or wanted to bring a guest into their room, was obliged to do something horrible. It was up to the rest of the house to decide what. Fortunately for Tom, he had not been the first to unlock his door that night. That luck fell on poor Billy.

Even if it came to be so, the rule didn’t make sense because no one could check who the first one was to open their door and even if- it was not an official Delta Kappa rule. That meant that, even if the person got caught to be the first, they could simply deny the dare. They would be known as Head Chicken, of course, but there were worse things in life. 

Tom moved up the stairs, saying hi to a few of his roommates, feeling very lucky as one of the senior members of the house, he did not have cleaning duty. Most of that was up to the pledges anyway. 

He remembered when he had to do all those tasks and shit to get into the house. It was so stupid; he didn’t even understand why he chose to be in a fraternity, in the first place. 

He did think the other guys had gone a bit softer on himself and Harrison since at the beginning of it all, they had been chosen by the sorority of Alpha Zeta Zeta as the favourites. Still, some unspeakable things had been done that year. 

But now that he lived in a giant house with some of his best friends, it all felt like it was a bit worth it. He had a great time at Delta Kappa. 

One of the best pros, by far, was that he had his own bedroom. Spacious for everything he needed plus a bit more. A large, unmade, bed waited for him when he opened the door. That, and the happy barks of Tessa. 

“Hello, darling,” he bent down to pet her as she jumped to his knees. Tessa was the official mascot of the fraternity, but she had very early on found a great liking to Tom. It only took her a few days to get settled in his room, and from then on, she wouldn’t sleep anywhere else. 

Tom moved up to his bed, and Tessa gladly joined him. She patted down a circle before lying down with her head on his chest, letting out a satisfied huff of air. Even if he wasn’t comfortable, Tom had no way out anymore. He was stuck. With nothing else to do, he took out his phone and went through his notifications.

Some texts from Harrison and Jacob, a missed call from that girl he made the mistake of giving her his number. People were getting Wi-fi again because he got at least twenty different Snapchat pictures and videos from the party. 

What else there was plenty of, were Instagram mentions and tags. He went through the photos, smiling. It really had been a great party. Then, something popped up in his mind. 

Property of: y/f/n 

y/f/n

Could it be that easy? He could just search for her and hope to find her account. He typed it in. Her first name was already enough to get plenty of results. As always the profile pictures were too small to really make out a true identity, so he made his way through the accounts. 

He only needed three tries, though. The picture already resembled her, so with hope, he clicked on the account. 

This account is private. Follow this account to see their photos and videos. 

Tom sighed. Not so easy after all. Then he saw the bio. It was a bit vague, just a few random emojis. But what interested him was the Followed by and the fifteen mutual followers that she had. It couldn’t be anyone else. 

For some unknown reason, his heart was beating in his throat as he clicked on the blue Follow button and watched it turn grey. Now it was just a matter of waiting until his request got accepted. Or maybe denied. Who knows. 

_________________________________

Watching a show for the fifth time got a bit boring. You could still laugh at the jokes, but at the same time, you could also almost flawlessly quote it as the scene went along. So, a few episodes in you took out your phone and started scrolling through various app feeds.

Marie had fallen back to sleep since you could hear her snore in her bed. And you were falling asleep slowly too. It was so warm in your room, and your bed was so soft and comfortable. Your eyes were getting heavier by the second. 

Then a notification popped up, brightening up the screen in your hand. Half-awake, you tried to read it. 

(your account): Tom Holland (@tomholland2013) has requested to follow you. 

Tom? Your mind took a moment to process. Then the face finally clicked to the name. Tom! His name was Tom! 

Without much further thought you accepted the request and before you even put your phone down, you fell asleep. 

_________________________________

Not to sound desperate, Tom waited for a good half hour before rechecking his phone. He clicked on the Instagram app and the search icon. Her account was still the last one from the recent searches he made. Tom clicked on the account and, to his unexplained surprise, he was greeted with a gallery of pictures. 

He had noticed earlier that the count on top of the page said 53 Posts. Interested, he clicked on the first one. It was a picture of a coffee cup. It wasn’t tagged, but Tom recognised it to be from that café Le Moulin. He saw the distinctive black windmill on the napkin that could not be missed. 

He scrolled down. 

It was a selfie from last summer. The filter slightly enhanced her bright smile on the picture, but Tom could tell it was more to show off the warm atmosphere of her holiday destination. The next photo was from the same holiday, he assumed, of her and a group of friends. He recognised the girls from campus. When he tapped the picture for the tags, he saw their names. @tiffani.btx @bonne_marie @lucywithnodiamonds 

He thought to have spotted that Marie chick at the party. She was French if he remembered correctly. She was definitely a wild one. Might have even grinded up against him during one of the better songs that were played. 

There were some more selfies, solo and with friends, sunsets and landscapes. The picture quality got worse as he scrolled down. It matched with the timeline. People should not be keeping up their pictures from seven years ago, especially not with all those fucked up filters they used back then. Tom was, of course, one of those people. 

He scrolled to the last picture; it was of a dog—one of the cutest little labrador puppies. 

Out of nowhere, Tessa barked in her sleep, making Tom jump up. This sudden movement, in its turn, woke the dog up completely. Tessa kept barking. 

“Right, I think it’s time for a walk, what do you think?” He patted Tessa on the head as she tried to lick his arm. Tom got up and was about to leave his room when he realised he almost forgot his phone. The screen hadn’t turned off yet, so he looked at the puppy again. But something was off this time. Something had changed. 

The little blank heart under the image- it was now pink. 

He accidentally liked her oldest picture. 

_________________________________

There were two types of naps. Those that made you feel amazing and refreshed by the time you got up. And those that made you feel like you had fallen asleep on a bed of rocks. You felt even worse than before when you woke up. Your head was throbbing, and your bra had pushed itself into every possible part of your chest, making it that much more uncomfortable. 

“What time is it?” you asked Marie, but she was still asleep. 

The light of your phone almost blinded you, so you quickly put down the brightness. It was around four o’clock. Meaning you had slept for a good three hours. 

Besides the time, you checked your notifications. There were not a lot of them. A few spam emails, a few texts in a group chat you never responded too and… a like on Instagram? 

tomholland2013 liked your photo. 1 h 

You had to think back to the moment before your nap to remember that he had in fact requested to follow you. And you had accepted it. 

You clicked on the notification, and it sent you to the liked picture. To your surprise, it was the picture of your family dog, Spot. Your family had picked the name even though he was a completely yellow labrador, loving the irony. 

It was your first-ever picture, from over seven years ago. Had he been stalking your account? Why the fuck would he do that? 

Well, you thought, it was only fair if I do it too. So, through the like, you made your way over to his account. 

First thing you noticed was the number of followers he had. 15.7k How the fuck do people even get those numbers? Well, it’s easier if you’re a hot frat guy, of course. 

His profile picture was a mirror selfie, and clearly, it was his favourite composition, for at least five out of the first nine pictures in the gallery were the same style. All full-body reflections, with him holding the phone in his right hand, leaning his head a bit to look at the screen as he took the picture. His lips weren’t exactly in a smirk, but there was that cockiness in there. He really was feeling it, that was obvious. 

The first picture was a classic mirror pose- A black jacket and a black hat: the same outfit he had been wearing in class. You looked at the timestamp and saw that he only posted it an hour ago. Already it had dozens of comments and a low thousand amount of likes.

You scrolled down. A denim jacket and beanie in the mirror; a grey t-shirt and sweats in the mirror; a black suit in the mirror, the list could go on. There were other pictures, mostly from the frat house parties and other events where alcohol played a significant role. There were also the occasional front camera selfies. 

You couldn’t help but look at those a little bit longer. There was something about that small tight smile that he made that was so cute. In one of the more saturated pictures, with a deeper shadow, you noticed that his nose actually had a little bump in it, most likely from breaking it in the past. 

But just from likes alone, you could tell that the mirror was a public favourite. 

There was something about the confidence that the pictures portrayed that spoke to you.. He knew he looked good, and no one could deny it. Except, he looked so much better than good. 

It was interesting to be scrolling down his posts because it was like a trip back in time. At first, it didn’t wasn’t that obvious, just maybe a change in temperature during the year that was referenced through his clothing. Then it showed a bit more as his hair started to get shorter by each picture taken. It got shorter and shorter until his hair was not much more than a buzz. The reason for the drastic hair change was explained in the next picture. 

You had already scrolled down four years worth of pictures, and this one was of him (taken by someone else). Tom was standing in a victory stance on a grass field, which you recognised to be the campus square. He was only wearing boxer shorts and on his chest was painted, in bright blue paint, 𝜟K. Underneath the post, read the caption: Delta Kappa babyyy! with a bunch of other hashtags. One that was included was #deltakappapledge #initiated. Of course, it was during his pledge period. 

You kind of hoped that he had to do more than just shave off his hair because he didn’t even look half that bad. It even suited him actually. Hoping to find some more evidence of that embarrassing period, you scrolled on. 

The sound that came out of your mouth as you scrolled to the next picture was inhumane. Keeping to tradition, it was a mirror selfie. Behind him seemed to be some workout equipment, possibly from the campus gym, but no one would look at that. Everyone would be too focused on what was in the foreground. 

It was Tom standing in front of a mirror, chest glistening with sweat as his hair draped in front of his eyes. Instead of the usual pose, he stood sideways, showing off not only his flexed bicep as he took the picture, but also the outline of all his other muscles.

Completely forgetting what you were doing, you double-tapped the post. How could you not? Only a second later, did your monkey brain realise what you had done. You had made that exact same mistake as Tom. Except while he had liked a picture of a cute dog, you had made your mark on a shirtless selfie.

As the pure humiliation flooded over you, you threw your phone to the other end of the bed with a squeak. 

What’s done was done. 

_________________________________

Tom came back from the walk with Tessa after an hour. They both enjoyed a long walk around the park neighbouring the campus, just to then pretend like they were too exhausted and lay in bed the rest of the day. Well, Tom pretended. Tessa seemed legitimately tired. 

They went back to their position on the bed. Not sure what else to do, Tom got back to Instagram. There was no reaction to his accidental like yet. Not even a follow back from y/n. A bit rude but okay, maybe she hadn’t seen it yet? 

He shook his head. He didn’t like this weird side of him. Where had it even come from? Since when did he wait for anyone to respond to him? And they weren’t even having a conversation! 

Having nothing else to do, he searched through his phone gallery for a good picture to post. He chose one he had taken during lunch, on his way from the bathroom. It was still crazy that his friends wanted to go to a place where you needed to take an elevator to go to the toilet. 

He didn’t care for editing, so he went through the usual Instagram process of making a post, thought of some dumb caption and send it out into the internet. Soon enough, as if they had a notification on for his activities, the likes streamed in.  For the first few minutes, he tried to look through them, again hoping that y/n would be one of the likes or the heart eyes emojis in the comments, but quickly it became too much, and Tom couldn’t keep up. He still enjoyed reading the comments.

Of course, it was all one big ego boost. The praise and compliments, even if it was for something as shallow as his looks, definitely gave him a good kick of dopamine and all those other happy chemicals during the day. 

Tessa was snoring and drooling on his belly as Tom went through his timeline and explore page. There was not much exciting happening in peoples’ lives, but it made the time flow by faster. An hour had gone by probably when he decided to recheck his activities. His new picture already had a few thousand likes and was close to reaching a hundred comments.  He went through some of them and either liked them or responded with a matching emoji. 

But as he scrolled through the activity, he saw a like that was to a different picture. A rather old one too, just from the beginning of college. And who might have liked this picture? y/n 

She liked a workout selfie, huh?

With the confidence that the like gave him, Tom clicked on her account and the message button. He thought about what to send for a moment but decided against overthinking it and went with a simple- 

_________________________________

(tomholland2013): Tom Holland: Hi 

You looked at the notification for a while. He definitely saw you had liked his old picture. Was he going to make fun of you? Tease you how you had outed yourself for thirsting over him? 

But maybe he just wants to talk? You tried to sound optimistic to yourself. After all, he did like an old picture of yours too. You were kind of in the same boat.   

Putting all worries aside, you clicked on that damn nerve-wracking notification, and without much more thought send out the reply. 

(y/n)

Hey :) 

Before you could even send out the smiley, the message rose to reveal “SEEN” beneath it. Was this happening? Was it? You could see he was typing. 

(tomholland2013)

After stalking me you could have at least followed me back lol 

(y/n)

Right sorry just a lot of mirror selfies. Thought i’d seen everything there is to see 😂

(tomholland2013)

Rude Seen anything you like though? ;)

Uhhh, of course, you have. You liked it. A lot. But you weren’t going to give him that satisfaction. 

(y/n) 

No not really 

Quickly change the subject. 

So what are you up to? 

Good enough subject? 

(tomholland2013) 

Just lying in bed with Tess

Tess? Who was Tess? Did he have a girlfriend? If he did, he would have posted something on his Instagram, right? That’s what couples did? Unless it was just a one time fling. You couldn’t even call it a one-night stand since it wasn’t even night. 

Wait, why did you even care about that? You had literally only said hello to each other and shared a coffee during class. 

But the curiosity was gnawing at you.

(y/n) 

Tess? 

(tomholland2013)

Yeah, she’s falling asleep on my chest. Kinda tired her out lol

You looked at the text, unsure how to respond, or even if to do it. Was he telling you about his hookup?  It didn’t sound like the nice guy you had met in front of the lecture hall, and that gave you his leftover coffee and Oreos. Your face wrenched into a grimace, not sure anymore what to make of this conversation or of what had happened during class.

He was typing again. 

Wanna see? 

Jesus Christ, this was a mistake. You didn’t respond, but he still sent you a picture anyway. It was a timer, unfortunately, meaning you had to click on it to see what he had sent. But he could see you got the message and that you were online. The longer you took, the more prominent you would make it that something was wrong, and you didn’t want to hurt his feelings. He had given you his coffee. 

The curiosity got the better of you once again, though, and you clicked on the little bomb. What popped up was almost what you expected- but at the same time, so not. Before your brain properly processed what you were looking at, you were scared that he had sent you an unsolicited dick pic, but it was the furthest thing from that. 

What you saw was a POV shot of his chest and legs. He was indeed lying on his bed. On his chest, however, was the head of a grey silver dog. “Tess” had her eyes closed peacefully as she slept on. 

Of course, it was a dog. 

You decided to be honest. For the benefit of the conversation, if anything. 

(y/n) 

Omg 💀 

(tomholland2013)

We just came back from a long walk, so she’s pretty knackered  What?  Did you think I meant something else? 

Embarrassment kicked in anyway. 

(y/n) 

No... lol 

(tomholland2013)

You sooo did lmao Jealous much ;)

(y/n) 

Of the dog maybe

(tomholland2013) 

Cause she gets to be here with me? 

(y/n)

No I meant it like  She’s so cute  I want one

(tomholland2013)

Relax  I was just messing with you  But if you ever wanna come over

(y/n) 

Maybe another time 

The response came out in a panic. Had he invited you for what you thought he did? No, there was no way he did. Besides, you couldn’t go to his house. You barely knew the guy- your mind kept on whirring about it. But the conversation continued.

Soon the sun had gone down, and it got dark outside, but the messages kept coming in. At one point Marie finally woke up from her hangover slumber. Drowsily she got up and headed for the shower with a towel and toiletries bag in her hand. Before she left, though. She asked you if you could prepare something to eat for dinner since she was starving. You being you, agreed.

(y/n)

Hey, I think I gotta go for a bit. Gotta make dinner for my roommate

(tomholland2013) 

What’s on the menu? 

(y/n) 

Probably spicy ramen? 

(tomholland2013) 

Damn. sounds good But can’t she make it herself? 

_________________________________

A part of Tom wanted to send another message. I want to keep talking to you. But that felt like a bit much. She was typing again anyway. 

(y/n) 

Because she’s still hungover from your party lol Thank for that btw 

(tomholland2013) 

You make it sound like i am personally responsible 

(y/n) 

Well your the only guy from DK i know so  you’re**  💀fml. There go my chances of an english degree 

(tomholland2013) 

Nah babe YOU’RE good ;)

 _________________________________

Your heart fluttered at the little word, for no reason. It was just a text message. He probably called every girl he texted that. Still, the sentiment was there. Also that winky face of his. Could he stop? 

He started to type again. 

(tomholland2013) 

But if you ever wanna meet the other guys, you really are welcome to come over. 

(y/n) 

I’m good thanks. 

Going to a frat house alone? You felt like that could easily be the start of your personal horror movie. It would absolutely crash at the box office, but that didn’t matter. And it was the second time he invited you to come over. If it was a hint, it wasn’t a subtle one. It didn’t stop you from doubting it.

(tomholland2013)

No need to be scared. They’re pretty chill dudes. 

It was cute how he could read your mind because you were undoubtedly scared, but what he probably did not think was that you weren’t interested in meeting any other frat guy because there was only one on your mind at the moment. 

(y/n) 

Maybe another time  ttyl? 

You had sent the last message in the hopes that he had as much fun talking to you as you did with him. You watched eagerly as the three dots danced around on the screen while he typed out his answer. 

(tomholland2013)

 Absolutely

_________________________________

Tom turned his phone off with a smile covering his face. He had just spent talking a good two hours to y/n, and he had to admit, he hadn’t had that pleasant of a conversation with anyone in a long time. It was just so easy to talk to her. It might be partly because it was only texts. But still, she was funny, sweet, and so pretty...

Unbeknown to himself, he was falling a little bit for y/n. Although, maybe he did feel it coming. The idea of getting another text from her made his face heat up. The idea of seeing her in class the next day almost made him… giddy. And it’s only been a day. 

“Hey, man,” there came a knock on his door. “Better hide anything that would make it awkward between us cause I’m coming inside in 3-2-1-” 

“‘S all good,” Tom said right as Harrison walked through the door. 

“We’re gonna order pizza, what do you want?”

“Just the usual, I guess,’ Tom shrugged. Honestly, he didn’t really feel like eating pizza but to be the only one that wasn’t having any wasn’t a good strategy either. 

“Alright, then.” As quickly as he walked in, Harrison was also leaving the room. But he peeked his head through the door once more before actually walking away. 

“Hey, are you sure you’re good?” Harrison looked at him through narrow eyes.

“Yeah,” Tom answered as he prodded himself to sit up. “Why?” 

“I don’t know… Nevermind.” And with that, Harrison left to share Tom’s order. 

It was a rare occasion that all the house members would be at home on a night that wasn’t reserved for a party. That night, when it came to dinner, it was around 8 of them. Everyone was already sitting on the couches when Tom came downstairs to grab his pizza. He grabbed a chair and his box and sat down. A football game was playing on tv, and it made Tom roll his eyes. He still had no real idea of how football was supposed to work. He always preferred golf or basketball, or even baseball. 

The guys cheered at a touchdown or whatever but all Tom could focus on was his phone. He kept checking if there were any notifications from y/n. So far, there was nothing. She was probably busy, he told himself, not wanting to feel too disappointed. 

 _________________________________

“So who were you texting back then?” Marie said as she slurped on her noodles. You were playing around with your own portion a bit, not really in the eating mindset.

“Huh? No one.” you shook your head.  

“So it is someone. C’mon. Who is it?” She extended her leg to poke yours. She kept going until you finally gave in. 

“Just this guy from Dowling’s class.” you finally took a bite of ramen. 

“Aaand does this guy have a name?” Marie kept on asking. 

You looked up from your cup of noodles. “Tom… Holland.” 

Marie gasped, almost dropping her food onto her lap. “Tom Holland? As in Delta Kappa Tom Holland?’ you nodded your head yes. “No fucking way.” 

“What?” Not the most nuanced reaction, but it would do. 

“No way you have a crush on Tom fucking Holland.” You always noticed that when Marie cursed her French accent would show up again. Just the slightest bit. This time, however, what you stayed on was her statement. 

“I do not!” you said as your cheeks were heating up. 

“Ohhh, you do. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have said ‘nobody’. Everybody knows that ‘nobody’ is code for either crush, boyfriend, or drug dealer. And I think we can exclude the last option.” you were going to protest, but you would have only been fooling yourself. 

“So, hypothetically, let’s say I do have a crush on him. Why did you scream out ‘No way’?” You bit your lip, a bit scared for an answer. 

“No, no, no. I didn’t mean it like that.” Marie put down her ramen on her desk and came to sit down next to you on your bed. “I didn’t mean that you, like, don’t have a chance with him. Please, if anything, you’re too good for him.’ you both chuckled. “I just didn’t think he’d be your type.” 

“What, hot?” You raised an eyebrow to which she slapped your shoulder. 

“You’re being difficult. I mean, so… out there. You know, he’s basically the leader of that frat house, he always parties, always has stuff to go to. And you’re… well, pretty much the exact opposite. Not that there is anything wrong with that. Completely not. I just don’t want you to put yourself in any positions that you’re uncomfortable with to impress him or anything. Remember, you are too good for him.” 

“Thanks.” you hugged her from the side. “But don’t you think that it would be good for me to go out once in a while? Out of my comfort zone?”

“Sure, if you’re actually doing it for you. Not some guy.” 

“He is really nice, you know.” you smiled, remembering what had happened that morning. You went on telling Marie about it. 

“Oh, so he’s got a crush on you too, huh? That works out perfectly. ” She finally said when you were done telling your story. You looked at her with wide eyes. 

“What? Noooo,” you said, letting an awkward laugh escape through the no. 

“Fine, whatever,” Marie moved back to her own bed and grabbed her cup of ramen. “But I bet you that if you check your phone now, you’ll have at least one message from him.” 

You rolled your eyes again but grabbed your phone either way. And, fair enough, you had two notifications from ten minutes ago. 

(tomholland2013): Tom Holland: Heyy

(tomholland2013): Tom Holland: I hope the ramens good

Holding in your smile, and ignoring the smart ass comments of Marie, you replied quickly. 

(y/n)

It was :)

_________________________________ 

The speed at which Tom checked his phone when he felt the vibration in his pocket could have caused someone severe whiplash. He responded to the text and got up. Ultimately, he had hoped that he could slip out the room unnoticed, but he never got what he wanted, did he? 

“Where are you going?” It was Dave that saw him get up. Tom stopped in his tracks like a little kid that got caught with his hand in the cookie jar. 

“Just up to my room. Feelin’ a bit tired.’ He explained. This answer received several strange and confused looks, but Tom ignored those and just walked upstairs without saying another word. He plopped down onto his bed. Tessa was still downstairs under the table chewing on some pizza crusts, so he was finally alone. 

The texting continued through the whole night, and Tom had wholly lost the sense of time. He didn’t even feel tired. If it wasn’t for y/n saying that she was about to fall asleep, he wouldn’t at least. Like that, the windshield crashed, and he felt the fatigue from the hours of messaging and staring at a screen overwhelm him. He just about managed to send out goodnight before his eyelids were too heavy to open up again. 

_________________________________

The next morning you woke up feeling much better than either time the day before. Fresh and energised, with plenty of time to get ready before class started. Not that you really put much effort into how you looked for the morning lectures. It was more mental preparation. With enough time to eat breakfast, shower and brush your teeth, you felt excellent walking out the door. Dressed in a sweater that was warmer than two jackets and some loose jeans. With your bag over your shoulder. 

You always thought the walk from your dorm to the lecture halls was delightful. The path leading toward it was enveloped in a tunnel of trees, and during the end of the year, when the leaves were turning into their auburn and golden shades, it almost felt warmer than in summer. Because the harsh wind still kept up with its schedule. It blew in your face as you walked, rubbing against your cheeks. 

When you got there, the lecture hall was still relatively empty. Only a few other people had taken their seats. This was the crucial moment of choosing your seat. Against all your own instincts, you walked down to the bottom of the auditorium, into the fourth row. You had never sat that closer to professor Dowling’s podium, too scared you would be too easy to notice and called to answer a question. But something in you told you to be brave. 

Besides, you had the idea that Tom wasn’t eager to sit there either.

As much as those butterflies in your stomach fluttered at his mention, you didn’t want to talk to him now, not during class. You needed to pass this class badly and to do that, you needed to focus. Something you could not do with him sitting next to you. 

That’s what you told yourself. It was, of course, true, but the bigger problem was that you were scared. Tom sounded like a nice guy, a very good looking nice guy, but Marie’s words played in your head. He was from a completely different world. And it was a scary one. Why not keep a bit of a safe distance at first?

So, you kept your head buried in your notebook as people started to stream into the room. One by one, the seats around you were getting occupied—none of them by Tom, for better or for worse. 

_________________________________

It had taken Tom a while to find y/n. He walked into the room, thinking he had come in with plenty of time to spare, but as he was making his way down the steps, the professor was already making his way to the podium. Tom tried to look around the room as quickly as he could, but he could not see her. Where was she? 

Professor Dowling coughed loudly, indicating for everyone to shut up and sit down, so he could start the lecture. Tom took the first empty seat he saw. An aisle seat somewhere around the 8th row. The course started, but Tom’s eyes stayed on the seats, looking for that braid. 

It wasn’t a brilliant plan, because he had no idea if she had actually kept that braid in for another day. And she had not, in fact. He noticed her, sitting somewhere at the bottom of the class, as she grabbed her hair and was pulling it up into a bun. She did it so quickly, so smoothly, without ever letting her attention get away from her. Focused on the class. He could really learn something from her. 

And he tried to take a page from her book as he finally looked ahead of him to see Dowling write an entire essay on the blackboard. He cursed himself and quickly started to type everything over. His fingers went in fully automatic mode, and he had no more idea what the words he was typing actually meant. 

His mind had wandered off once again. He couldn’t stop feeling that disappointing pull at his heartstrings. He had hoped they could have had a repeat of yesterday. She apparently thought differently. Or maybe she had hoped he would sit next to her, but he was just too slow? 

The lecture went on forever, felt like. Tom’s fingers were cramping up from typing so much, and he could feel his back beginning to hurt in the uncomfortable chair. He kept stealing quick glances at y/n, hoping to catch her in doing the same, but she had not moved once. 

He had to get a grip. They had known each other for one day, spoken maybe ten sentences to each other in person. The rest was all through text. And nothing was the same via messages. Maybe all his feelings were coming from the entirely wrong place? Perhaps she was just polite, and he had misinterpreted it for casual flirting? Besides, there was that sweater of hers yesterday- what if she had a boyfriend? 

But a part of him still wanted to ignore all those signs and go for it. So, when the bell rang, and professor Dowling finally dismissed the class, Tom made sure he was one of the first ones outside. The large hall had two exits, so he stood against a wall, somewhere in the middle between both doors, hoping to catch y/n as she was walking out. 

The loud rumbling of thunder caught his attention momentarily. 

It was just a second, he swore to himself. But the second was enough to miss her. Somehow she had escaped him, nowhere to be found.

_________________________________

You had seen Tom waiting out in front of the room, and you felt horrible for walking the exact opposite direction. For the sake of your own feelings, you didn’t look back at any point on your way to your second lecture. 

As Professor Phillips spoke, you felt your phone vibrate. 

(tomholland2013): Tom Holland: where are you? :) 

The little smiley made heat up in the cheeks, but you tried to ignore that as you typed out a response. You didn’t even click the notification to go to the app, just responded through the shortcut. 

(y/n): had another class

Another notification popped up not long after. 

(tomholland2013): Tom Holland: wanna meet up later? 

(y/n): ngl I don’t feel well, will probably head back home right after

(y/n): but i’d love to chat

You shut off your phone, too scared to see the reply. Maybe it wasn’t the best move since you could not think about anything else for the remainder of the class. When you checked your phone again on your way back to the dorms your heart was lifted. 

(tomholland2013): Tom Holland: of course. hope you feel better <3

_________________________________

Tom tried to think that she wasn’t avoiding him. After all, they texted almost every possible second that they had the time for the past week

They had talked about pretty much anything and everything. And it felt great. The way they spoke to each other, or at least Tom to her, was as if they had known each other for ages. 

Tom only wished he could do that with her from across a table, or a on a bench. Where ever, he didn’t care. He wanted to be able to look into her eyes as they talked and see her smile. Hear that lol and not just imagine it. 

Unfortunately, y/n was kind of giving him the cold shoulder in the real life. She ignored him during classes, and was gone before he could get the chance to talk to her. Whenever he asked if they could meet, she’d give him some reason she couldn’t. If it wasn’t for the fact that they had actually already met in real life, he had vary valid reasons to think he was being catfished. 

Another reason could have been that she sounded too perfect.

It was the next Tuesday already, and Tom was waiting eagerly for the lecture to end. It had been a full week and he had decided, while copying some of Dowling’s notes, that he would talk to y/n today. After class. 

Tomorrow would be the opening of the Sterling and he wanted to ask her if she wanted to come.Or at least to know if she wanted to hang out ever. If the truth came to be no, he would be fine with that. He respected that. He just needed to know. It wouldn’t take away from the fact how great it was to have someone to talk to, even if it was only through text bubbles.

The bell rang and Tom sprinted out. He kept his eyes on both doors as best as possible and finally saw her. 

_________________________________

“Hey, y/n!” you heard your name being called from behind you. It was from Tom. He waved to you so would come over. Taking a deep breath, you decided to wave back, but your legs were frozen in place.

You felt absolutely terrible for ignoring him and denying his various invitations to hang out or to go anywhere, but it was just too terrifying. You were scared of fucking it up. Of it to turn out to be one big joke. You had heard of frat guys using dates and hookups as dares and shit. You didn’t want that. You couldn’t let that happen.

But when you saw Tom smile at you, those worries suddenly disappeared and your legs moved without connecting to your brain. Suddenly, you found your spot next to him.

He had been leaning against the wall with one foot, his arms crossed. You decided to lean against it with your shoulder. Even though you had your sweater, you could feel the grizzly texture of the bare red brick. He smiled and mirrored your movement, so you were only a few inches apart. ,

“Hey,” he said, still with the smile on his face. 

“Hey,” you replied. 

Tom uncrossed his arms to brush his fingers through his hair. As you watched him do so, you couldn’t help imagine how it would feel to play with his hair. It looked so soft. 

“I just wanted to say,” he licked his lips. You were so close to each other that you could see how pink and chapped they were. Focus. “How much fun I had the past week. It’s bee really great talking to you.” 

“I had fun too,” you said. It really was nice talking to Tom. Especially now, standing so close to him, you could smell the coffee he had consumed that morning. Was it pumpkin spice? You felt stupid for not letting it happen sooner.

“Great, that’s- that’s really great to hear. I said great already, didn’t I?” He laughed, shaking his head, “Anyway, I was thinking: a couple of friends of mine are going to the opening of this new bar, the Sterling, it’s probably going to be a bit boring, but I thought, maybe you’d like to come? With me?” He looked at you with those big brown eyes. Your mind started racing a million miles an hour at his words. The fuzzy warm feeling that you got from looking at his smile was dispersing and setting in for anxiety.

He wanted you to go to a bar with him and his friends? Would that be considered a date? For the sake of your dignity, you decided against asking for clarification. It didn’t matter. You couldn’t go to some dingy bar with strangers, even if one of them was Tom. You could already feel your body heating up in anxiety as all the horrible scenarios played out in your head. 

You realised you had been quiet for a while and Tom was still looking at you hopefully. 

“No,” you blurted out. “I mean, I can’t. Sorry.” 

“Oh, that’s fine. Totally. Maybe another time? Or if you don’t wanna go there, we could go somewhere else?” 

“Uhh,” you couldn’t breath. All his suggestions were so sweet, but it felt too overwhelming to answer. Thankfully, the clock tower at the other end of campus rang and indicated the quarter of an hour. Your next class would soon start, and it was about a five-minute walk to get to. 

“I have to go.” you pointed back and started walking, but Tom grabbed your hand gently, just enough by your fingertips. 

“Sorry, I just- if you don’t want to hang out with me, that’s totally fine. You don’t have to pretend to like me, no hurt feelings. I don’t want you to-” 

“I do, Tom,” you told him with a compassionate smile. Then you looked back at the clock. “But I really got to go.” 

“Right, sorry.” he let go of your hand, and you ran off to your next course. 

 _________________________________

“Who was that?” 

As soon as y/n ran off, Tom heard the voice coming from next to him. Zendaya popped up out of nowhere, an unlit cigarette hanging between her lips as she leaned in the same spot y/n had. 

“Just a friend,” Tom shrugged. That’s what they were, after all. If even. He hoped he could describe someone he had mainly only spoken through texts with as a friend. 

“You sure about that?” Zendaya smirked. “Cause by the looks of it, she’s got you pretty hooked. You were basically begging her to go out with you, bro.” 

“Yeah, well, forcefulness isn’t exactly an aphrodisiac, is it?” he sighed then almost turned pale at the words he had said. Zendaya didn’t say anything, just nodded and took out her glittery lighter. 

“Could you not?” Tom pulled the cigarette out of her mouth before she could light it and put it in his pocket. “We’re inside, for fucks sake.” 

“Fine, but tell me who this friend of yours is.” She nodded her head back into the direction that y/n ran in. 

“I don’t really know. I mean I do, but- Basically we met last week before class. Then I found her on Instagram and DM’d her-” 

“You slid into her DMs? Bro,” she laughed. 

“Call it what you want, it was the only way of reaching her I had.” 

“Fine, so you like her, yeah?” 

“I guess.” Tom didn’t like sharing his feelings. It put him in this vulnerable position that he was not used to. Zendaya knew that, yet still she pushed him to do it almost every time they talked. 

“For what it’s worth, I think she likes you too,” she said. 

“How so?” he questioned hesitantly. It wouldn’t have been the first time that Zendaya had pulled that trick on him to date someone. And it had not ended well. 

“Well, body language for one, she felt comfortable enough around you to stand close to you, facing you; she smiled at your rants which, props to her, is hard to do.” 

“How long had you been watching us, exactly?” Tom asked a bit freaked out. Zendaya ignored the question.

“Believe me, she likes you. She’s just scared.” she pulled out another cigarette from her pocket, “also, taking a girl to a shithole like the Sterling for your first date? I’m glad she said no. Set some standards, man.” And with that lovely comment, she walked away. She didn’t have to see Tom flipping her off, she knew he would do it, and she replied lovingly in the same way. 

That’s what you got for being friends with psychology majors. 

 _________________________________

The first thing you did after walking out of your second class was to check your phone if you had received any messages from Tom. There was nothing. So you decided to message him yourself. 

(your account) 

Hey  Sorry I ran away like that  And basically anytime after class and making those dumb excuses not to meet up Just so you know I do really wanna hang out with you I’m just not really great with crowds or with places like bars and stuff And ive also never really been asked to go anywhere with anyone, like personally  Idk why im telling you this. I’m definitely rambling Texting is definitely easier than talking huh Sorry for all this 

It took Tom two minutes to see your messages and to respond.

(tomholland2013)

It’s totally okay. I get it And sorry if i made you uncomfortable with all that.  Can i come to your place tonight? Or how about we go to Le Moulin?

Le Moulin. You had been there before. You could do that. With trembling fingers of excitement, you replied

(your account) 

Deal. Around 7?

(tomholland2013)

Sounds perfect. See u then 

 _________________________________

Tommo: Hey guys, sorry but im gonna have to skip on tonight 

This short message was seen and very much not appreciated by his friends. None of the replies could be seen as appropriate for day-time television. Except for the one Zendaya had sent him through their personal chat. It was simple, 

Z: 👍

With the entire afternoon off, Tom made sure he looked somewhat decent for the night. He took a shower. Washed his hair and made sure it was extra soft. He wasn’t sure what y/n thought of it, but from past experiences, he knew that usually, girls loved his hair. Thinking about other girls was probably not the best mindset, though. Still, his hair did look really good. He brushed his fingers through it. 

It had not yet stopped raining, which was a bit of a problem, but he hoped she wouldn’t mind getting a bit wet. For the sake of it, he took an umbrella with him. Luckily it wasn’t very windy, so it actually came to good use. The walk from the frat house to the dorm that y/n said she lived in wasn’t too far away, and fortunately on the way to the place he had in mind to take her to. 

On his way over, he thought about what Zendaya had told him. 

Was y/n scared? Of what? 

They had talked about that kind of stuff briefly, during the weekend, and she and said that she suffered from anxiety. Tom just thought it was stuff like giving a presentation in class. He hadn’t even thought about the more social aspect of it. And here he was pushing all those things at her like going to some bar with strangers. Jesus, why did he have to be such a dumbass? 

The dorm complex had a buzzer system like a regular apartment complex, so he searched for her name on the long list, and pressed the button next to it. 

“Hello?” It was her roommate, Marie, that answered. 

“Hey, it’s Tom. I’m here to pick up y/n.” He could hear some indistinct giggling coming from the other side of the line. 

“Of course, c’mon up. But I’m afraid you’ll have to wait a bit.” Next followed the buzzer, and the doors opened for him. The number on the button said 54, so he assumed it had to be on the fifth floor. When he walked up to the door with that number, he was greeted with a colourful collage of rock bands whose hair was probably more impressive than their vocal range, which said a lot considering Queen was on it. 

He knocked and waited for someone to open. y/n was the one to do it. She stood frozen in the door, only a towel wrapped around her body. 

“I thought we said seven?” she said, her voice a bit higher than usual.

“It’s quarter past seven!” Marie shouted out from inside the dorm. y/n cursed. 

“Shit, sorry, I lost complete track of time. Give me ten minutes, okay?” she held up a finger so he would wait here. Tom nodded and let her close the door again. He could still hear her yell at Marie as to why she had not told her she was running late, to which Marie only responded with hysterical laughter. 

“Holland?” someone in the hallway asked a few minutes later. Tom turned in the direction to see a guy with a head full of bed hair poke out of his doorway (which was covered in pictures of death metal posters and my little ponies). He stepped out in the hallway to reveal he was wearing nothing but a pair of tiny and tight briefs, leaving little to the imagination. 

“Oh hey… Crocker,” he called the guy by his preferred nickname. 

“Hey man, what are you doing here?” Crocker asked. The way his eyes were almost ruby red and the stench coming from his room, Tom presumed that the guy was higher than a kite. 

“Oh you know, waiting for a date, heh.” He said a bit awkwardly, pointing back to door 54. 

“Ah, getting some of that French jay nehsuh gwaa.” 

Tom looked confused. He wasn’t sure he had ever heard someone butcher a language that badly. Well, probably, but he didn’t remember it. He kind of understood what Crocker meant, though.

“No, I’m here for y/n. Not Marie.”

“Damn? Really.” Crocker started to giggle, which might as well just have been a side effect from whatever he had smoked up in his room. 

“Yeah?” He wasn’t sure how else to react. Crocker just shrugged and walked back into his room, smashing the door closed. Tom turned slowly, not sure what exactly had happened just then. And he turned right on time too, because the door of dorm 54 opened and y/n walked out. Wearing a raincoat over a sweater and jeans. She also had a pair of black ankle boots on. Tom could not help but smile at the sight of her. 

“Sorry about that,” she said, the nervousness in her voice was unmistakable. 

“First,” Tom spoke, remembering one of his earlier worries from days ago, “you don’t have a boyfriend, do you?” The question made her laugh.

“I very much do not. Why did you think that?” 

“The sweater you wore when we met. It had that whole stole-it-from-my-boyfriend vibe.” 

“No, I haven’t had anyone to steal clothes from in a long time.” she shook her head. Tom extended his hand for her to take, which she gladly did. It felt amazing.

“So what will you be ordering?” 

“Ice cream,” Tom answered, almost matter-of-factly. 

 _________________________________

“Ice cream?” you asked to make sure you had heard him correctly. He nodded in agreement. “Don’t you think it’s a bit cold for that?” 

“No.” He said bluntly, which really sold the case for you. You were on your way again.

You could hear the rain pound against the main door before you even reached the ground floor, and it only got harder and louder the nearer you got. Tom, being a true gentleman, opened the door for you, but you were a bit hesitant to walk outside. 

“Oh, shit. Sorry,” he let you hold the door so he could step through the threshold and push open the umbrella. You noticed it was a Delta Kappa umbrella. They really made merch of everything. As he put the umbrella up, he extended his arm for you to intertwine yours through. Then, you walked. 

Though it was relatively early, the sky was pitch black because of how early the sun set those days and the dark clouds that had been pestering the sky that entire day. Not a star was to be seen. The rain tapped heavily against the umbrella, and you tried to stay as close to Tom as possible. The excuse, of course, was to not get wet but really you wanted to enjoy the warmth that he was giving off. At one point you had changed position from just having your arm over his, to him wrapping his arm over your shoulder. 

You walked down a brightly lit path, so you could see everything around you. The trees, the cars passing by, the building. So, when you saw the little café at the end of the street, you squealed. 

While there were plenty of bars, pubs and clubs to go to around town, so there were restaurants and cafés. And while restaurants really weren’t your thing, you loved to sit in one of the cosy coffee shops with a cup of tea or coffee and read a good book. Another fun thing about all those places was that they were very internationally orientated, speaking to the wide variety of students that the university had. Le Moulin was of course based on a Parisian café. You had actually found it together with Marie, in hopes she could have something that felt a bit closer to home. Though it didn’t come close to the real magic of the French capital, it still had plenty of its charm in it. Not to mention, the pain du chocolats were to die for! 

Yet, you had never actually had ice cream from their menu. 

You still weren’t sure if today would be the day for it. By the time you wear under the little entrance roof, you were freezing, and so was Tom, visibly. 

“Are you still sure about the ice cream?” you asked him as he closed the umbrella.

“Hot chocolate?” he suggested, suddenly fluent in your love language: chocolate and hot drinks (it was a very simplified version of said love language). 

This time Tom got to be the real gentleman as he let you walk inside first. He dropped the umbrella in the stand, together with a few others. When you looked around the café, you saw that a few more couples were enjoying the cosiness. A sweet melody was playing from the speakers. The rain had also softened outside, and together with the vintage sounds of guitar and vocals, it gave the perfect atmosphere for the night.

You had barely stepped inside when one of the waiters walked up. He smiled and said: “Your table is ready,” which surprised you, but Tom took you by the hand, and you both followed the waiter to one of the tables next to the wall, where one side had a couch instead of the usual chairs. You sat down first, taking off your jacket. Tom was going to sit opposite you, but now it was your turn to grab his hand. 

“Slide in.”

He smiled and sat down. He probably didn’t need any convincing and just wanted to hear you say that you wanted him to sit next to you. You didn’t mind that. 

“Should I prepare the order?” the waiter asked as you made yourself comfortable, again confusing the hell out of you. 

“Actually, scrap that. We’ll have two large hot chocolates.” Tom said. 

“With cinnamon!” you added. 

“One with cinnamon.” Tom corrected. The waiter nodded and walked off. 

“Don’t like cinnamon?” you quizzed, to which Tom shrugged. 

“It’s alright, just not a big fan.” Both of you looked around the room. You had never been in the café at night, so you hadn’t even realised that the walls were covered in soft gold lights, giving it all that much more the feeling as if you had stepped into a fairytale. 

“I didn’t know this place took reservations.” 

“I’m not sure either,” Tom replied, you noticed he had his arm draped around you again, “I just called to be sure.”  

“Really?” That split you up into two. Your heart skipped a beat at the thought that he had made a special call to the café to get, probably, the best seat in the house. On the other side, you were freaking out for a few reasons. He had put in quite the effort in an almost last minute notice of plans, while you were fifteen minutes late. That was embarrassing enough. And this reservation basically put you in a spotlight for the entire business, which was really not ideal. You didn’t want to be noticed. 

“Hey,” he whispered and squeezed his grip around you lightly, “everything okay?” 

“Huh? Mhm,” you nodded your head and smiled, trying not to think about how the waiters might be judging you. 

“I saw you had posted a picture from this place on your Instagram, and I used to come here a while back, so I thought it would be cool, but if you don’t like it-” 

“It’s perfect,” you made up your mind. In the end, it didn’t matter what anyone else thought. You felt safe, sitting on the little couch, next to Tom. 

Soon after, the waiter came back with two mugs of hot chocolate. When Tom ordered large ones, they delivered. The mugs might as well have been cereal bowls, topped with a peak of whipped cream and cocoa powder, and a cinnamon stick in your cup to distinguish the two drinks. 

“Et voila!” the waiter put the cups down. You thanked him, and he was gone again.

There were spoons, but you decided to stir your chocolate with the cinnamon stick. 

Still with his arm around you, Tom took his mug up to his lips. With the feeling of having him so close to you, you wondered what this really was. What if he just wanted to be friends and spend some time with you? Had he noticed how sad and lonely you were, and did he want to take his pity out on you? Were you a charity act for him? God, you hoped not. You really really hoped not.

“Tom?” You looked at him, to see his eyes dart in your direction. His top lip was covered in whipped cream. You gestured it to him, slightly giggling, and he wiped it off with the back of his hand. How was someone that hot, so adorable? 

“You were saying?” he said, putting the mug down on the table in front of you.

“I was just wondering,” Be quick, get it over with, you’ll feel better when you say it. “is this a date?” 

“Do you want it to be? It doesn’t have to.” He added the second part quickly after.

“I- I think I do,” I smiled. Though he had just put his mug down, he picked it right back up, you did the same.

“Then a date it is.” You clinked cups. Still, something felt off. You were holding the cup up to your lips, but just far enough not to be able to drink from it. Your eyes glazed over as you focused them on the mural in front of you. It was of the Paris skyline. With the Eiffel tower in the middle, the Arc de Triomphe a bit to the left, on the other side stood the two symmetrical towers of the Notre Dame cathedral. It was probably geographically inaccurate, just good enough to keep everyone who had never been to the City of Love satisfied. 

“Okay, something’s up.” Tom brought you back to the date. “What’s wrong? And, please, be honest.” 

“I don’t know,” you huffed out a laugh. “But before you start to freak out, it’s nothing to do with you, I swear.”

“So, you kind of know what it is about.” he raised an eyebrow. He had a point. If you knew what it was not, it meant you knew what it was, indeed. 

“I, uhm,” suddenly you felt very much aware of everything and everyone around you. Were they listening? “Well, I really want to apologise for being so distant outside of Instagram.” 

“There’s really no need for that, darling,” he said. “I understand it, and should have been a bit more considerate. I should have realised sooner that bars and shit aren’t your cup of tea.. or hot chocolate.” 

You both laughed. 

“Yeah,” you were smiling, but the word came out a bit as a sigh, conveying your all the troubling thoughts that were going on in your brain.

“There’s more, isn’t there?” Tom saw through it. You bit your lip, not sure how to say it. You didn’t want to say it. He would probably think you were a joke. Besides, all those people around. Some of them from your school. They could probably hear every word you were saying.

“Do you maybe want to text it to me?” he suggested with a kind smile. You hadn’t realised when he had moved, but he had let go of your shoulders, and his hand was now on top of yours. His thumb moved slowly over your skin, reassuring you that, whatever it was, it was okay. 

How you hoped it was. 

You grabbed your phone and started to type out your message, taking a deep breath before sending it to him. You heard the vibration in his pocket, and with it, your heart skipped with anxiety. Tom kept holding on to your hand as he took out his phone and read the text. His eyes shot wide open. 

“Wait, really?” 

 _________________________________

“Never?” he asked, to which she bit her lip and shook her head. 

No, it wasn’t possible. 

“How has no one- nooo,” 

“It just… never got far enough- No, I mean, ugh,” she finally took a sip of her hot chocolate. Tom had to admit that it was cute how that was her go-to frustration action. She wiped off the whipped cream from her lip. Tom couldn’t stop looking at them, they were just so perfect. He wanted to feel her, to taste her. He wouldn’t even mind the taste of cinnamon that would have remained on them. 

“There was just never a guy that made me think, oh yeah, I want to kiss him,” she said after another sip of the hot chocolate. 

“So, you’d want to kiss me?” 

“Shut up,” she said glaring, but just to hide the big smile on her face. 

“Sorry, I just can’t believe you’ve never been kissed.” She flinched a bit at his words. “I don’t mean it in that way. You shouldn’t be ashamed of never being kissed. Sometimes it happens early on, sometimes it doesn’t. If it wasn’t for my pledge, I don’t think I would have had my first kiss till last year.” He confessed. y/n looked at him with eyebrows that had a twist of disbelief in them. 

“Yeah, right.”

“I swear,” Tom laughed, putting his hands up. “So really, no judgement here.” Then he leaned in to whisper into her ear, “and I definitely won’t mind breaking you in,” He couldn’t keep a straight face saying it, and neither could she. He had thought it would make her nervous or flushed, but she just slapped him on his arms teasingly. 

“In your dreams, Holland.” 

“Fuck, I hope so.” That made her freeze, just for a second though. “Shit, too much?” He asked, afraid he had finally taken it too far with his inappropriate humour. 

“No, you’re good.” She took another sip of her hot chocolate, allowing Tom to do so as well. 

“See, just because I’ve never been kissed, it immediately puts me under this label of being a prude or something, but I’m really not. I’ve just- had a really shitty love life.” Or just a complete lack of it.

“Well, I hope to change that.” He leaned in again and pecked her cheek. That finally got him the flushed reaction he had hoped for. 

“You already did.” 

 _________________________________

Your hand moved up to your cheek, hovering above the area that he had kissed. You felt like an idiot, but with Tom, it didn’t even feel like a bad thing. 

“We’ve known each other for less than two days, and I can already tell you, you’re way up there in the list of good dates.” 

“Way up there? Give me stats.” He nudged on. You thought for a second. 

“At least… top ten.” 

“Top five? Oh C’mon, babe, I think I’m a bit better than that. Not to toot my own horn, of course.” 

“Top five.” You said, ignoring the butterflies that had escaped in your stomach. He glared at you. You glared back, keeping your eyes on each other for another moment until he had dipped his finger in his hot chocolate and pressed it against your nose. You blinked in confusion. 

“That just moved you down to number six.” 

“Well, shit.” Tom leaned in and licked the whipped cream off your nose. As disgusting as it should have been, you burst into a fit of giggles, hiding your face in his chest to not disturb the rest of the restaurant. While you were trying to calm down, you felt Tom kiss the top of your head a few times. 

Finally, you sat up again. 

“Top three,” you stated. It was good enough for Tom. For now. 

You drank the rest of your drinks in the best silence possible that could be kept as both of you kept laughing at each other. Finally, the mugs were empty. Tom paid for everything and let you take the lead to walk outside with the umbrella. When you opened the door, however, you saw that the storm had now passed over into a light drizzle. You kept the umbrella closed. 

You were already letting yourself get taken up by the rain when Tom was outside. You thought he would come to join you, but he stayed under the little roof, watching you with a big smile. 

“Not afraid of the rain, are you?” you asked. “Or are you made of sugar?” 

“All I can say is, come and find out for yourself.” You were already a few steps away, so you hopped over to him, took his hand and took the final step, so you were touching chest to chest. His other hand found its way on your hip. You saw his eyes flicker from your eyes to your lips. You smiled and pulled him in closer, making you take a step back and exposing him to the weather. 

“Mutherfucker!” He gasped, not having expected that. “Ohh, you’re good.” 

Before you knew what was happening, he had picked you up by the waist and spun you around. You squealed from surprise before the both of you started laughing again. Eventually, he had to put you back down again, and your eyes widened in horror when you saw him walk to a large puddle. 

“No, Tom! No, no, no.!” He put you down right next to it. Probably an inch from the water edge. 

“C’mon, I’m not that mean.” he pouted. 

“Nah, you’re a softy,” you poked his cheek. He grabbed your hand. 

“Oi, I wouldn’t go that far.” then kissed the tip of your index finger, which you had poked him with a second before.

“Too late, I guess.” 

“You sure about that? You’re still really close to that puddle babe. We wouldn’t want any… accidents!” He gripped you by the waist again, and the sudden movement made you feel like he was gonna throw you down into the puddle. You shrieked but soon felt his arms still around you and no parts of your body were soaked (only moderately wet from the light rain) or on the ground. He was still holding you. 

“You never answered me,” he said, his sweet laughter was gone, and his eyes were on your lips again. 

“Answer what?” you kept looking at his face as a whole, taking in every detail. The way his nose scrunched when droplets of rain well on it. How one of his eyebrows was more bushy and irregular than the other. The dimple in his chin, his freckles- everything. 

“If you wanted to kiss me.” 

His golden-brown eyes were so warm, even in the dim street lights at night. His wet hair was sticking to his face, but framing it so nicely. His jaw was sharp, it didn’t seem like it should be real. 

“I do.”

His lips. Though thin and a bit chapped, they still felt so soft. The sweet taste of chocolate, mixed in with the rain that had fallen in the few moments that you stood outside. His hands cupped your cheeks, pulling you in closer to him. It felt so good. So right. 

You pulled away but with no idea how much time had gone by. His stands stayed in their position, his eyes searched yours for a reaction. Nothing came from it since you were still in an emotional daze. 

Tom chuckled. 

“Fuck, I should have slid into your DMs sooner.” 

“Way to ruin the mood, Holland.”

“Oh, you love it.” He said before pulling you into another kiss. 

The END

> song played in Le Moulin: Rendez-vous sous la pluie (Jean Sablon)

> Thank you for reading!! I hope you enjoyed

> please leave a comment or ask with your thoughts. i love reading them and let me know if you want to see more of this au cause i really enjoyed writing it :)

> if anyone has a comment about how it had only been a day since they met etc. i wrote this 15k story in the span of 24 hours. i wish i could have added more to it but at this point, i am physically and emotionally exhausted and do not want to make it even longer. 

>masterlist and link to taglist in bio

tagging:

@definitely-not-black-cat @artemisiaarm @nerdyhockeygirl @miraclesoflove @justasmisunderstoodasloki @thefridgeismybestie @m19friend @creative-happenings @parker-holland-osterfield @fanficparker @fanficscuziranout @peterparkoure @xxtomxo @happywolves81 @captainbuckyy @tra-gicx @qxeen-of-hearts @varshavisuu @kangaroobunny @petersunderoos96  @the-lost-fairy-tale @nerd-domland @sleepybesson @rissa067 @the-queen-procrastinator @scarletteclipze @screeching-student-unknown  @spiderrrling​ @captainpeggy40 @tomhollanders2013 @miraclesoflove @playinonaloop @queenoflostspirits @roses-hxlland @hereiamhereigo @sunnydays0803 @averyfosterthoughts @moorehollandplz @beiroviski @you-bleed-just-toknowyouarealive @peterparkerbabyyy @multifandomlover21 @lmaotshollandd @badbitchydecisions @tikapollak @awesomehritz​ @madzleigh01​ @oh-what a beautiful-parker @taciturnspidey​ @quaksonhehe​ @mountainsforwords​ @harryfobter @peepeeparkerr @viagracex​ @ethereal-beauty-p​ @slytherin-chaser​ @worldoftom​ @moonysoftt​ @peeterparkr​ @wazzupmrstark​ @saintlavrents​ @peachybloomss​ @blissfulparker​ @chloecreatesfictions-archive​  @fallinfortom​ @bitchydecisions​ @okokimfreakingoutahh @cicicantblog​ @musicalkeys​ @joyleenl​ @multifandomdoodles121 @awkwardfangirl2014​ @marvelouspeterparker​