#the nightmare of going into his tag btw I have to hunt down all his posts bc they’re not all there for some reason. gotta fix em. rip.

[candycryptids]

OC Smash Or Pass: Mochiie Kaisuri edition-

Rules: pretty self explanatory. include physical descriptions or pics, and propaganda. the “other” label can be used for “sexuality misalignment” (ie: oc is femme and you’re gay, vice versa or you aren’t into smashing but a specific thing you wanna do with them like perhaps hug or study them under a microscope idc).

Got tagged by @cindernet-explorer , @selnyam AND @gatheredfates and I know I did this once for Tangy but idr who got to take credit for that tag so 🙏 forgive me

If you wanna do this I’m tagging you. I’m so srs rn.

The Basics-

Height: [approximated] 179 cm or 5’9 (short for a m’ra!)

Age: 29

Gender: GNC Cis Man (He/Him)

Sexuality: Pansexual (gender does not play a role in his attraction)

The Good

Good with kids of all ages and animals of many sizes

He can cook! And will cook for you! Actually he’ll insist.

Willing to make the decisions if you’re uncertain, like where to eat or where to go.

He’s soft and warm :) (Fur AND body hair) and likes using nice smelling soaps and oils for his hair/skin

Will make you a lunch to go in the morning if you’re going to work/adventure! He worries about you. Packs you an extra potion.

Will always turn up to help you move or offer you a couch to crash on even if you’re not dating.

The Bad

Collects Chocobo hatchlings the same way Batman collects orphans or Ash Ketchum catches ‘em all. They all have names. He gets a little sad if you get them wrong.

Has a drinking problem, but won’t admit to it or acknowledge it. Doesn’t actually see it as a Problem. Drinks when stressed, and socially.

Forgets to take care of himself while rushing around taking care of others, and sometimes misplaces his glasses. Which he very much needs to see.

Can’t handle spicy food. Like, at all. He likes the taste of it, but it plays hell on his stomach.

Isn’t actually that much of a romantic in practice and can forget to pay extra attention to his partner, treating them the same as everyone else until you’re alone together again.

The Bonus Disc

Likes nature and hikes and casual walks, and stargazing

Believes in Fate and is always interested if someone offers to read his fortune in the cards- even if they have bad news. He’s grit-teeth optimism when regular optimism isn’t available.

Wants a big family, but isn’t super picky on how that works out? Like, if it’s adoption, if it’s his partner, or if it’s just him, his flock of Chocobo, his partner(s???) and a garden patch.

Should really write home more often but doesn’t.

Is a guy that usually Knows A Guy, if he can’t help you with whatever your problems are, he can likely point you to someone he personally knows that can.

He has ‘two of them’

ROMANTICALLY: when it’s just the two of you, he’s like a fairytale prince. Charming and sweet and doting. You might have trouble doing anything because he wants to do it for you. When he’s around others… hes not one to flaunt a relationship and overcompensates that by treating everybody the same.

SEXUALLY: He’s comfortable being in control and likes leather and bondage. Leaves plenty of hickeys and bruises while knowing if you asked he’d heal (most) of them for you. Is quietly into scarification as a show of devotion, but won’t bring it up with casual flings, or even most serious flings. He just likes the idea of leaving permanent marks on each other people can see as opposed to the invisible ones left on memory/soul/life

[peeterparkr]

perennial;tom holland|sixteen.

chapter sixteen: coneflowers

↳ flower meanings: justice

chapter summary: fragile box, please handle with care. 

pairing: tom holland x y/n

warnings: angst but not for tom and y/n :) , mentions of sex, timmy, cherry, fluff. 

word count: 11.6K

SOCIAL MEDIA BEFORE THE CHAPTER: none

previous chapter next chapter   perennial masterlist.

perfidy  ( series masterlist)

I know it took me forever to write this, I’ve been having a hard time, my dog passed and I have been grieving, however, somehow I found the strenght to write. 

I know, it’s long. I know, I’m too descriptive.idc :) I liked it. it’s my writing and i’m sharing it with you, hope you enjoy it. 

thanks to @erodasghosts​ for being a real one and helping me out. 

btw stop sending anon hate it’s getting tiring 

tags aren’t working, please leave feedback asdakd listen to taylor swift 

Someone once said, to never fall in love, everything that falls, breaks. Y/n knew she was fragile but she’d broken enough to know she couldn’t break again. She was but pieces now. However, she could mend it with love. 

There is always that inexplicable feeling of joy when you get to wake up being held by one’s love, it is believed to be one of the most pleasurable moments, or at least it was for y/n to ever think of. If not the most pleasurable one. You can always long to go to bed with someone, but to wish for someone’s mornings, when they have a new day, talks about the most intimate act of all. 

She was usually the one to wake up earlier than him, usually watching as the sun would creep in from the window to warm his cheekbones. So peacefully as he was far away, dreaming. Golden streaking under his lips. 

Y/n always wondered if he ever dreamed of her. Often dreams are senseless, and fun, however dreams can turn into nightmares. 

Nightmares which would disappear whenever she was close to him. 

As usual, she had opened her eyes before him. How could anyone doubt them? She inquired to herself, her fingers delicately traced his skin, as he was away in his own world. 

There was no feeling of storms approaching and if it did, she knew she’d be able to dance with him. And they would bloom again. Though they were not right now, they would eventually. 

 “Y/N?” He said sheepishly, an eye half open. 

Y/n jumped, slightly startled. 

She smiled, “good morning.” 

And it was a good one. 

“Are you watching me sleep?” He asked, chuckling as his arm tried to bring her close. 

She blushed, and placed a kiss on his nose, “I—I got lost….in… your eyes?” 

He scoffed, “my closed eyes?” He laughed, trying still to open one eye completely. 

“I—was thinking and your face happened to be the view I had,” she said. 

“The only view you need,” he smirked, nuzzling into her hair. 

She rolled her  eyes, placing soft small kisses around his jaw. 

It is never easy to understand why the heart chooses what it chooses. If someone dared to ask she wouldn’t have the answer. Maybe she did. 

She could tell them about the fact that she was herself, and how she wanted to see how his eyelashes shined against the moonlight. How his silences spoke to her more than words. Or how her body was tattooed by his kiss. How after everything, they wanted to fight for their love. 

“Go back to sleep, love,” he said. “We don’t have to be awake.” 

She rolled her eyes, “no,” she stated before gluing her lips to his neck, kissing her way across it. 

“Oh,” he chuckled and she felt the vibrations through his neck. “Or you can… do that.” He lifted his head slightly, allowing her to get her lips on the sweet spot he loved. 

She giggled as she continued. 

“I think I can get used to this,” his eyes fluttered open. 

Love is not something that has a formula, there is no reason as to why someone loves someone. But looking at him, maybe she could think of some reasons. 

To the world, and the world being the people in the house, they were the enemies who had turned into lovers. Y/N knew better, they were lovers who had tried so hard to fool the world into believing they were enemies that they ended up believing it. 

“Hm, you must,” she warned him, now moving her lips up to the corner of his, he blushed and finally watched her. 

“Oh, will it be like this?” He smirked and finally managed to open his eyes, he tried stretching out but his hands were too eager to hold her again. 

“Maybe,” she chuckled. 

Had they not had those moments alone all their life? A certain calmness they shared whenever no one was around, and even when they would mock and bicker, it would be a strange familiarity. Was he not able to make her laugh? And cry? And feel every emotion. Every single one of them, and one who is powerful enough to know how to break you but chooses to love you instead and heal you is incredible. Someone who tried to mend the delicate parts. 

Being enemies had only shown them they could love each other even on their worst sides. And it had built them up, in a good way. They would have fun, competition. Even after all their battles, she found peace in him. Besides they both knew they didn’t need each other but they chose each other. They were not meant to be but damn, did they fight for each other. 

She finally caught his lips in hers, as he managed to turn her around and deepen the kiss, his arms embracing her as close as he could. She knew no one understood how they could be so in love after everything. 

Y/N guessed no one would understand, how after everything her eyes still shined when he smiled at her. How she wanted sunrises and sunsets, and the fun that might come in between. And to write a new story, one that the world didn’t have to know. 

“Every morning?” He asked her, after pulling away from the kiss. “Is that a promise?” 

She bit her lip, “Not every morning.” 

He frowned. 

“Some other mornings I might not kiss your neck, maybe your forehead,” she giggled. 

He chuckled, as he blushed, “Oh, I like that idea.” 

“Hm, you do?” She grinned. “How about…. Your ear?” 

He smiled, “I like that, too.” 

“Uh… your jaw.” 

“Yes,” Tom confirmed again. 

She kept watching him with mischief, “uh… how about your chest?” 

“Yes?” 

“Hm…your shoulder?” 

“Y/N, let’s just agree that I like your lips on any part of me,” he laughed before getting his own lips caressed on her neck. “Though I like them better on mine.” 

Maybe that had been her mistake, to try and get everyone to know a story that only them seemed to understand. Though they were always trying and running and hiding. As if they were merely prays trying to be hunted and they were scared of the very next roadblock, the next needle that would pop them.

“Hm, good, and I like yours,” she agreed. He served as a great blanket,she thought before pulling him to a deeper kiss. 

And yet they’d have each other at the end of the day, and a kiss to look up to as if it was the first time.  There were no other two people so different and so impossible for everyone else but that worked together so well. They saw their truth in each other, and though it was stupid, it was real. 

Y/N loved Tom because she didn’t need a reason for it. And she wouldn’t feel guilty every time he told her he loved her, she did not have to. And she had not given up because she knew Tom turned everything bright, that was his goddam gift and curse, he turned everything golden. Midas touch that sometimes turned things into gold when they were not worth turning into. 

Even them, who were so broken, he managed to make it perfect. 

Because they were them. No one else had to understand and though she knew they had been waiting for explanations the night before she did not have to give them any because she did not want their point of view. She only wanted Tom’s. And his, it was looking so bright. 

She pulled away this time, “hm are we supposed to tell them?” 

“Hm,” he kissed his way down to her neck and then to the valley between the slight cleavage that could show a bit of her breasts. “Probably.” 

“I guess they will ask for an explanation,” she said, as her hands landed on his hair, twirling her fingers around it. “I mean, James saw me on the verge of killing you yesterday and today you are—“

Tom chuckled as he looked up. “Right, they looked very confused yesterday.” 

Y/N grinned, “wouldn’t you be, idiot?” 

“Not with us, no,” he admitted as he rolled off, now resting his head on his hand, watching her. 

“Why not?” Y/N frowned. 

He laughed, as if it was rather obvious. “We’ve been doing this since we were kids, idiot,” he remarked the nickname. “Fight to death, then be friends for five minutes,” he chuckled as his hands traced up her body. “Except this isn’t—friendship, or not the PG-13 version of it—“

“This is definitely not the PG-13 version,” she agreed. “But this isn’t friendship.” 

“No, and it won’t last five minutes,” he smirked as his eyes turned with lust at her. “Forty-five maybe?” His eyes were burning with lust as he kept kissing his way down.

“No,” she rolled her eyes, giggling. “Not right now, Thomas.” 

“Why not?” He looked up with mischief.

She chuckled, “what would they say if they heard us?” 

“Do we still have to be alone for us to work out?” He questioned. “Didn’t we agree on not—being secretive?” 

She bit her lip, “No, but… I am not exactly fond of the idea of them listening to us have sex.” 

Tom had made a point. And it was the point that they both knew it, it’s always been that way, Rome, New York, now his room. What a magical place it was when they were alone. Getting away to be happy because nobody wanted to see them tumble down. 

He laughed, “Oh, I—well, we don’t have to be—uh, I thought we could-“

“Easy, Tom,” she said then, rolling her eyes. “I think I also told you I want to slow things down.” 

He paused, “right—But you—“

“I know,” she gulped. “I know I can’t stop myself but we both get to put boundaries, and— I need to sort things out.” 

“Yeah, right, right—“

“But—that doesn’t mean,” she coughed. “That I don’t love waking up to you.” 

He watched her with a smile. “I know, I know,” he kissed the corner of her lips, more sweetly now and rolled off. “So, are we going to tell them?” 

“I believe we—“she chuckled. “Maybe they’ll assume we are—in a good place.” 

“Yeah, I mean—“ 

“I just—“ she sat up, Tom watched her, still laying down. “I need you to—understand something, I’m—Please just bear with me?” She asked him. “I don’t want to lose this, so—“

He was calm, even smiling as he watched her, his hand reached to her hair, slowly stroking it. So different, neither of them waiting to attack.

“I—“ she didn’t know how to put it in words. 

“No, no, I get it, calmer, I know you need time to figure out your thoughts but I’m here—“he said. “We need to figure it out, slowly, and talk to people. Cherry, Tim.” 

“Yeah,” she sighed. 

“Yes I know, ease your thoughts. You always have something in your mind but we agreed on figuring out how to soothe your mind.”

“Yours too.”

“But we have each other, don’t we?” He asked, a calm soothing smile. “We are figuring it out, together.” 

She beamed. “Yeah.” 

“I like this new us,” he pointed out. 

“What? The talking ones?” Y/N laughed.

“Yes,” he smirked. 

“Thought you’d be more fond of the ones that ignore everything and make out,” she sassed. 

“We can talk about it and then make out and other stuff, darling, they don’t cancel each other out, I like talking.” 

“I hate it, I barely know how to speak my thoughts.”

He chuckled, “that’s not true, idiot.” 

“No, but it was easier painting each other as villains,” she pointed out. “And we could’ve left it all behind and make out... and yet.”

“And yet, we spent all night talking.” 

They had. Figuring out why they worked, and it made sense. The flowers had never dried, not theirs, at least. Y/N had finally accepted it to herself, mostly. That they would work out not because they wouldn’t have any battles but because they would win them, if they were together. 

They didn’t blame each other, but they both assumed they’d hurt each other and they wouldn’t forget it. To leave it behind would let the wounds open, to acknowledge them would let the scars heal. 

But they both knew they weren’t going to now. That was the difference. Both of them would excel on trying to be the best for them. 

However, both of them knew that it wouldn’t be easy, and that’s why their decision was so strong. 

“How are you feeling now?” He asked. 

Not empty anymore, she thought. “Confused,” she admitted. 

She had the right to be confused. Her heart had been juggling with different emotions over the last 72 hours, a rollercoaster of emotions that didn’t quite mix. She still had her own words circling in her mind, about past wounds. About the kiss she’d seen. Though she knew it hadn’t been Tom. 

That was a difference, and yes, it hurt. But Tom had not been the one to kiss cherry. Tom had not kissed Cherry to hurt y/n. 

The kiss had been a mistake. And y/n knew she could forgive mistakes. 

That was the one difference between after Rome and this. This hadnt been a thought out plan. 

“Is there anything I can do?” He questioned, holding her hand. 

She looked at him, not really. But now at least she didn’t question whether he loved her or not. She knew he did. 

The thing is. She hadn’t seen the kiss coming, and that’s what had shocked her the most, and now she was starting to come back from her thoughts. 

“No, I just need to rest,” she said. “I think my emotions just need a break.” 

“We can have a break today,” he said. “I thought we said we would have it.” 

But she couldn’t have it, not yet. 

The decision they’d taken wasn’t permanent, just for now, at least.  Filming and then they’ll figure it out back in London, though she was slightly scared because he would be away to film, again, and she’d be left alone. But not lonely now, that would be a huge difference and she’d be looking forward to seeing him again. And she wouldn’t have to worry about the heartbreak now. 

“I guess,” she plopped back on next to him. 

“This week has been so stressful,” he pointed out. “I’m exhausted.” 

They were exhausted, both of them, from being adorable to the heartbreak, to the fight to making up and then fighting again and then talking, and talking. 

“We made the right choice, right?” She asked. Because she was sure they had but maybe it was just both of them being exhausted of feeling. 

“Are you having second thoughts?” He asked. “We don’t have to do it if you don’t want to.” 

“No, I do,” she said. “I think it’ll also be easier to talk to each other.” 

“Yes,” he smiled slightly. “In the quiet and peace of this very room.” 

She looked around. “It needs stuff,” she smiled. 

“Stuff?” He grinned. 

“Yeah, it’s too—plain.” 

“I’m sure we will take care of that,” he pulled her close. “I’m sure the Polaroids you’ll take will be the perfect decor. But—Look, see over there? Vinyls.” 

She laughed, “having them on the floor isn’t exactly decor.” 

“It’s art, darling, it turns you on,” he mocked. 

She laughed, “ah, right, it does.”

“But you’re right it’s plain,” 

She nuzzled close to him, “yeah.” 

“So more vinyls, right?” 

“Yes.” 

“And the Polaroids…?” 

She grinned, “yes.” 

“I actually,” he coughed. “Have some.” 

She glanced up with curiosity, “the ones I gave back with the box?” 

He chuckled, “yeah,” he glanced over. “Dude you really said let’s wreck this man’s emotions didn’t you?” 

She pursed her lips and cupped his face, “why?” 

“You literally—made a dvd,” he reminded her. “With videos of us?” He chuckled. “Like—you really said: ah yeah, fuck him, let’s remind him that we’ve done this before and that we transformed it into a relationship, and then you—Fucking saved the beer cap from that one time we—“ he cleared his throat. 

“Yeah when we first hooked up. And that controller from the first kiss—“

“I’m surprised,” he admitted. “Are you a kleptomaniac?” He laughed. 

“Maybe? I don’t know,” she admitted. “It’s just—“

“They remind you of moments, right?” He questioned, 

“Yeah,” she sighed.

He looked at her, “why did you give them to me?” 

“Because—“she paused, “I know what I said in the script, and I know it was awful but I also—wanted to show you that I had written another story, you know? That that story was the one that made us and built us up and that I’ve been—Though it’s stupid, trrasuring it?” 

He stayed quiet. 

“I—Did I give you the letter, too?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Yeah—I just—-you don’t know how many times I drowned going back through the memories, trying to figure out the puzzle. When—back in Rome it was my way of bottling up, as if keeping it in a box meant keeping my broken heart in a drawer?” 

He nodded. 

“But I—After we—I don’t know when we were with that whole enemies with benefits things and we kind of—Broke up? Can we call it that way?” 

“Uh… When was this?”  

“When—“she chuckled. “I—Well I was scared because all of sudden you were getting all coupley—I mean you bloody made me have breakfast with your parents and made me hold your hand the entire time.” 

He smirked, “Yes.” 

“Well, after that—You learned Tim had kissed me, which by the way, he did—I wasn’t—“ 

Tom rolled his eyes, “Yeah, seems—believable, but—Why did you—-Why did you suddenly just say no? Like—I was the one to kind of suggest—a relationship?”

“That was not suggesting a relationship,” she laughed. “Tommy I love you but your way of—“

He scoffed, “I—Okay, but what about that day?” 

“I was so confused because I—I finally opened up that box and it was like—as if—As if I—“

Tom seemed confused. “As if you opened your heart?” He said dramatically. He seemed amused. 

She rolled her eyes, “yes, Tom, and you should start getting used to that, all my metaphors.” 

“Sorry, I forget we are dating and that now I can’t mock you,” he confessed. 

“No, you can mock me but….” 

“Right but then I have to kiss you?” He grinned, leaning over.

She pushed his face away, earning a glare. “Ew, no.” 

He laughed, “What?” 

Y/n nudged him. “No, but like—I did it as if it was—I don’t know—But like that box?” She said. “I wouldn’t mind having that dress hanging around until… It hurt, like, all of my—Like I only boxed them when it hurt.” 

He remained quiet. 

“And then… It just… I couldn’t keep boxing it away, you know?” 

“And why did you give it to me?” 

“Because when—after the engagement party,” she started, “I guess it was—“

“Did you want me to see the heartbreak?” He asked. 

“No,” she shook her head. “I realized I boxed it because everything boxed is a good thing. None of it were—sad memories. I didn’t box the yellow flowers you gave me—I mean I didn’t have them but, I boxed the one you brought after prom, what I mean is that I only stayed with the good things? If that makes sense?” 

“Yeah, no I guess it’s—“

“And I gave them to you I guess as a lame excuse of trying to—Be like—Hey we have a lot of good things because we often try and forget that.” 

“Right,” he coughed. 

“And I think we shouldn’t, you know?” she said. “Like yes, we’ve been talking about the bad parts, but we also have a lot of good ones, you know?” 

He smiled.

 “What—what did you do with it?” She asked.

“It’s back home,” he said and then smiled. “Which could be your home when we come back, too…” 

She rolled her eyes, “So good for taking things slow.” 

He peppered her with soft kisses across her face.

“Tommy,” she giggled. 

 “We will talk about it, you know, eventually….” He reminded her,

“Yeah, I know,” she grinned. “No—but, yeah, that box, I have—“she pinched the bridge of her nose. “I thought you would burn it.” 

He chuckled, “I—honestly I did think about it, like when you did, burning the flowers right in my face.” 

“I was broken-hearted and petty,” she said. 

He chuckled, “it was aesthetic.”

“You’re an idiot.” 

“Am I wrong? Don’t you do everything for it?” He teased. 

“Oh, yes, I cried for months just because it would be aesthetically pleasing,” she snapped, pushing herself far from him. 

“I’m joking, hey, I’m joking,” he pulled her back to him. “Can we go back to decorating matters?”

“No.”  

“Ah, please, I know you’re dying to change this stupid room with your polaroids, and… maybe flowers?” He smirked. 

Y/n rolled her eyes, “you’re so stupid, yes,” she grinned before kissing him sweetly. “There’s—also, do you have some clear space for my clothes—?” 

“Yeah, I think,” he gave it a thought. “Yes there’s plenty of space, your clothes will be safe.” 

This was what she needed. Those little conversations about being normal, not about their past or not about how much her heart was breaking. 

“Hopefully they’ll stay there all the time,” he added. 

She raised her brows in confusion. 

“Oh please darling, it'll be better if we wear no clothes at all,” he suggested so smoothly, y/n thought she would melt. 

“You’re an idiot,” she blushed, giggling softly. 

“You love me,” he stated smugly. 

She grinned, “yeah, I do.” 

It was time for him to blush, and kiss her, gently. Leaving soft tray of kisses across her face. 

She smiled, “So, how about I— tell your brothers and you tell mine,” she suggested. 

Tom laughed, pulling away nervously , “are you trying to get rid of me?” 

“What? No!” She was clearly confused. 

“Look, y/n, love, darling, princess, angel—“ 

She rolled her eyes with a knowing smile, “what?”

“I love you but I don’t think I have the balls to tell your brother you are moving in,” he said. 

She laughed, “why not?” 

“You’re really asking?” He cackled. “Didn’t you hear him last night?” 

Ah, she had. James said: I swear to god, if they have make up sex I’ll kill him. 

“I mean,” she laughed, “he wasn’t wrong, he did say that we had make up sex—. That’s kind of—“

“No, no it’s not what happened,” Tom cleared his throat. “I mean, yes a little, but it wasn’t that, like, we talked, a lot and we got to many conclusions.” 

“Yes but we still—“

“So what? He said he would kill me!” He laughed. “The fact that it did happen—I mean he doesn’t know it happened but—“

She giggled, “but what?”

“I am not risking being killed by your brother.” 

“You are not going to tell him that, you’re going to tell him I am moving in,” she reminded him. “Not the… sex part.”

“Please, but telling him you are moving in is basically telling him we are going to have sex on a daily basis.” 

She raised her brows, “we are not—“

“You can’t keep your hands off me, dumbass, he will know.”

“I am not, but—That’s beside the point, I am not moving in because of that, did you really think—?”

“I know you—I know it’s not because of that but this is James we are talking about—He will assume.” 

It was only partly why she was moving in. No, not the sex but to be with him. They’d work it out together and being together more time would help. Besides, she knew that she had to get rid of Tim. Not because of Tom’s jealousy, no, but because Tim had too much power in her mind and she did not know if she was strong enough to stop him. It wasn’t that Tim still had her feelings, no, but she had to know who she was without Tim, and who she was with Tom. She liked the version she was with Tom, the kind of person who was willing to see the best and try and show the best. Y/n liked who she was around Tom now. This version, the one that was willing to make her most complicated thoughts less complicated. The one that smiled when waking up, the one that smiled after a kiss. 

Y/N didn’t need Tom, technically. She knew that she could be fine in an apartment on her own, but she wanted him. And her wishes had become so strong they’d turn into a necessity. Her body was tattooed with him, her heart had his name carved. 

Her time away from him had been only a proof that she’d come back to him. Maybe he was an addiction. Maybe she was young and stupid, but she knew him too well to know that it was better to keep him around than to be away from him. 

Tom was a part of her, and trying to deny it would only bring her down. So she’d said yes to his proposal to move in. Because she knew it wasn’t a proposal that came from fear, it had been a proposal that had come from passion. 

The sky was clear. After the storms. They didn’t have to dance under the rain because she’d finally punched the hole through the roof. They’d come back to each other. 

Though they could assume that she’d take revenge over his mistake, and he could take his own, neither of them would, because why would they ever break what they love.

And she wouldn’t because they’d be chasing shadows and she didn’t need that. 

Maybe they had to drown together, or understand they’d both drowned.

But the water, though still slightly altered, was swimmable, because she had him. And that’s all she needed right now, he was the only answer to the many of her questions. 

“Well, if he assumes it,” she chuckled, “it’s on him. Besides, if he assumes it that’s gross, why does he assume his little sister is having sex?” That made him laugh, “besides, I don’t care. It’s our decision, they don’t know about us.” 

There was something about them that they managed to see each other. 

“They do know us,” he pointed out. 

“Yes, separately, they don’t see this,” she pointed out. “I think they don’t fully understand us, and honestly, I don’t need them to.” 

Tom tilted his head. 

“Eventually they’ll see it, but I think they do, already, they just have this version of us, and we do, too, but I think we—“

“We are more than that, yes,” Tom agreed. 

“They don’t know about the things we do, they don’t know about the I love you’s.” 

He closed his eyes, “did you just fucking quote One Direction?” 

“They don’t know about the up all nights—“ she sang. 

“Stop. You’re ruining this.” 

“They don’t know—“

“Shut up, I love you but you should stop,” Tom laughed. “No—I hate you.” 

“I hate you, too,” she grinned, leaning down to kiss him. How marvelous, her enemies to lovers story had turned out. 

“Are… we avoiding going out and facing them?” He asked in between kisses. 

“Hm. I think so,” she admitted. 

They would have to face them, and so they, though they’d rather stay savoring each others’ words, they went to the kitchen, where they would be received with their spectators. 

Sam, James and Clark. There was no sight of Harry, y/n noticed. 

They froze when they saw them. As if with a word they could destroy each other. Y/N didn’t like to think of them so fragile but she understood where they came from. 

“Hello,” Tom was the one to break the silence. 

They didn’t answer. 

“Good morning,” y/n was next. 

Clark smiled, “good morning!” He greeted them. “How did you guys sleep?” He had a mischievous and knowing look on his face. 

“Fantastic,” Tom said. 

Y/N smiled, “Good, how about you guys?” 

“Ah, slept next to an idiot, but it was lovely,” he said. 

James glared at his fiancé. 

“Ah, me too,” y/n grinned. “It comes as a surprise, does it not? How incredibly soothing it is to sleep next to an idiot.” 

Tom chuckled and eyed their breakfast, as if trying to decide what he would have for him. Sam watched them with irony. 

“Surprising indeed,” Clark answered. 

“What?” James asked. 

“You wouldn’t know James, you are the idiot in the relationship. “Where’s Harry?” Y/n asked with curiosity. 

Sam smirked. “Not here.” 

Tom stole a piece of bacon from Sam’s plate earning a glare from his younger brother. 

“Not—?”Y/n frowned, very unaware of the situation. “Alright—uh, what can I have for breakfa—“

“Alright that’s enough,” James interrupted. “You guys are going to act as if nothing happened?” 

Tom took a deep breath, “good morning, James.” 

“Good morning?” James mocked. “Good morning? That’s all you have to say?” 

Tom chuckled, “sorry, how did you sleep, James?” 

James was losing it. 

“Are you kidding us?” James asked. “You—y/n almost murdered him yesterday—“

Y/N chuckled, “so? You pretended to be straight for fourteen years. And now you’re here engaged to a man, we all pretend to be things we’re not.” 

Clark bursted out laughing. 

“What the fuck,” was all James could say. 

Clark placed a hand on his shoulders, immediately James calmed down. “Jamie, love we talked about this—“ 

“I’m—You guys just—“ James couldn’t even speak.

Y/N sighed, rolling her eyes, “it’s none of your business, James, but if you must know, I made out with him for 10 hours straight and forgot about it.” 

Tom was the one to freak out now, “no, no no—We didn’t—No, we—we talked okay?” 

Y/N laughed, “yeah—Fine.” 

Sam rolled his eyes, “I think what James here means is that we are tired of not knowing how the hell to act around this and we need an update.” 

“Yeah. So about that,” y/n said. “First, I need you to understand that this is between Tom and me,” she cleared up. “Whatever we are going through, we don’t need you to meddle in, and we don’t want you to take sides or whatever, because there is no sides here, this is not y/n versus Tom, this is not a prank war, this is not—“

Tom cleared his throat. 

Y/N closed her eyes, “we came into a realization that we—no, we’ve always known who we are when we are together. We know each other, and we love you guys but this is our thing.” 

Clark smiled and then turned to James as if telling him: ‘I told you so’. 

“We—“Tom was the one to speak now. “I think what she’s trying to say is that we don’t want you guys to be worried about it.” 

 “Yes,” she said. “And...You guys all know us, we know, I know, James, I know you know me and want to protect me, however you guys barely know who we are together,” Y/N continued. 

James watched them, “We only want what’s best.” 

“Yes but how do you know what’s best for us?” Y/N asked. “And it’s… Look, I’ve never meddled in your relationship with Clark, I barely even knew about it and look at you guys.” 

“Yes but you guys-” James tried to intrude again. 

“We know,” Tom said. “We know, though it’s not perfect, it’s our relationship, and…” Tom took a deep breath. “Yes, you’ve been witnesses to the bad parts, and only the bad parts, but… we… We also have some very good ones, like back in New York, Rome or just this morning, and maybe that’s on us, because we’ve always feared about it and… We’ve always been so…” 

“Yeah, what we thought was that we… We are so scared of the outcome that we’ve always shielded ourselves by being alone, and we don’t have to,” y/n finished his sentence. 

“And yes, it’s not perfect, but it is the best that has happened to us and though it’s hard to believe we've brought the best of each other..” Tom cleared his throat. “We have.” 

“Yes, I know it’s hard to believe but I love the y/n I am when this idiot is around,” she admitted. 

James was listening now, Clark couldn’t help but smile and Sam was, honestly, just confused. 

“We’ve overcome the worst heartbreaks and we both know each other’s worst and we are willing to bring the best,” Tom said. “We are willing to work it out and step out of the idea we have of each other because we also know we are trying to become our best versions.” 

Sam nodded, “Cool, now, can we just please be aware of your relationship status? Though we won’t meddle I think we’re very involved in this and might as well—you know, be aware.” 

Y/N and Tom looked at each other, it was weird why they felt so insecure about it yet there was no reason to. 

“She’s moving in,” Tom announced, firmly but regretted it instantly. “Uh—Just—“

The room was incredibly quiet. Of course they had expected this, they had been on the verge of breaking up right now and this outcome was nothing of what they had expected. 

Y/N nodded, that’s all she could do. She walked closer to Tom. 

James took a deep breath, Clark held his hand, knowing that James was probably about to lose his shit. He didn’t. 

James didn’t look at Tom, he looked at his sister, who only reached out for her lover’s hand, now uneasy and kind of sweaty. 

Sam wanted to roll his eyes, and not because he wasn’t happy. He wasn’t sure why. 

Y/n thought  she knew what they were thinking, that they were completely crazy. That they wouldn’t last. That it was just another stupid idea. Like back when they were children and they had decided to play at the tree house together and five minutes in y/n had climbed down crying because Tom had said something mean. Or that one time when they had gone to the movies when they were younger and said they would share the popcorn and Tom had ended up with the bucket on his head. 

Like the old times when they always said they would be fine and then five minutes later they’d be at each other’s throat or on top of each other trying to hit the other. 

Y/n thought they were thinking that. And they probably were. 

The difference was that she didn’t care this time, because she knew that this time probably, yes, she’d be on his throat, but with her lips tracing its way and if someone was on top of each other, well, she would… really like that. 

“Alright,” James said, finally breaking the silence. 

That was new.

And everybody was confused. 

“Just know, that this is my sister, Thomas,” he added. “Please just stay five feet apart at all times. Separate bedrooms.” 

Tom chuckled nervously, he was sweating. He would actually take that in mind, he tried to walk away. He wasn’t sure why he was scared of James, it’s not like James would hurt him. Maybe it was a matter of trying not to disappoint him. 

“No, thanks for the suggestion,” y/n smiled. “But I’m good. He’s a good pillow.” 

James wanted to ask a million questions, and he only was squeezing Clark’s hand. Clark thought he would end up losing it. 

“So—breakfast?” Y/n said with a smug smirk.

Sam kept watching them with curiosity.

“Just—Just—“James was startled, y/n could tell, “I—“He was warned with a glare by Clark. “I need—I need to know, please, I just—how the hell—How did you guys even go—from—?” 

“From what? Enemies to this?” Y/N questioned. 

“That I can answer, she flirted once for 20 seconds and  I became obsessed with her,” Tom said and then laughed. “No, I’m joking, well, no—Not really, but she kissed me once and I haven’t stopped thinking about it since.” 

Y/n smiled. “Yeah, he smiled at me once and that was it for me, also, I’m attracted to stupid. And he happens to be—“

“No—“James tried to say something but y/n interrupted him again. 

“Ah okay, well we flirted at some bar once and we—“y/n started. 

“Danced! Yeah, to that song from Risky Business!” Tom didn’t let her finish knowing damn well that hadn’t happened but he would not let her say they had flirted and hooked up and ended up with this. 

“Ah, yeah, but that didn’t happen until after—“

“I flirted with you on set,” Tom reminded her. 

She grinned,”that was flirting? Well, okay yes—“

“No, I didn’t mean—,” James tried speaking again.

“Ah sorry,James,” y/n laughed. “Right so—In his car—“

“We got pancakes at midnight,” Tom interrupted yet again. Did she want him dead? 

“And then I held hands with her having breakfast once and I realized I wanted to wake up every morning to her,” Tom said. 

Y/n glared, “that’s—“

“Yes, and we danced to that song from Dirty Dancing and she ended up madly in love with me.” 

“Yes and then on the plane—“y/n continued with a smirk, she was mocking him. She clearly knew what she was doing. This was Tom and Y/n in their splendor. She was teasing. 

“Yes we had a date,” Tom glared, interrupting again. “And then we danced in the middle of the street in New York..” 

“Why the hell is there so much dancing,” Sam asked.

Y/n laughed, “yeah, dancing.” 

James rolled his eyes, “I don’t care about whatever happened—“

“That’s the thing, James,” y/n said. “I know you’re asking how the hell did I turn from almost murdering him to now moving in with him, and that’s exactly the explanation I’m giving you. All those little details in our relationship? That’s what led us here.” 

James took a deep breath. Clark brushed his back trying to soothe him. Y/N knew they weren’t exactly happy with this, but this was it. 

Even last time she was nervous about it. How would they react, and how they feared they would respond. But why did it matter? 

Though she knew that they would be supportive, no matter what. They would be supportive. It was not then that mattered. 

She knew her mind could easily be manipulated by someone else. Someone who was not at that house. 

Y/N and Tom both expected James to say his infamous words ‘I’m happy you’re happy.’ Which would mean he didn’t agree. 

He didn’t, instead he said, “Dont’ fuck it up, please, I love you both too much and I really want you both to be happy, and if you guys make each other happy then don’t be fucking stupid.” 

They had his approval, not that it mattered. 

Sam had been quiet. Dangerously quiet.

Y/N knew not to push him. 

They had breakfast, and it had been calm. Clark had been kind enough to change the subject of conversation and brought the subject of the wedding though James had been reluctant. They did talk about it, and Tom had tried to make some points on it by recalling that he’d been the one to introduce Tom and Clark. 

“Introducing me to the love of my life won’t redeem you from even holding my sister’s hand, Thomas.” 

But though the sky was clear, y/n knew they had to drive to the storm, the difference this time, they’d go together. 

Y/N had given it a thought, she was not sure how she would talk to Cherry. She was going to...eventually. 

“Y/N, can I talk to you?” Sam had asked as y/n and Tom were splashing water at each other while doing the dishes. 

Tom glanced at his brother. 

“Alone?” Sam remarked. 

Y/N chuckled, “Yeah, sure.” 

And she left with him. Tom didn’t know what that was about. Though he knew he didn’t have to worry, one because Sam would get y/n against him, not that he had to, and besides y/n had made sure to make Tom know that she wouldn’t let their relationship tumble down over little doubts and fears. 

Sam wouldn’t give her any. But he knew that there was something bothering Sam, he wondered what. But if it was a problem with Tom, he would’ve talked it with him. 

Tom never really understood Sam and y/n’s relationship, it was very peculiar and fun, he knew. He knew y/n trusted Sam with her life. And Sam trusted her with his. 

It took him a while, he’d seen them talking far away. 

“What’s--up with them?” Tom asked James and Clark who were on their way to go out, Clark explained they’d go tourist. 

“Dunno, maybe he’s trying to bring some reason to y/n and try and convince her not to date you,” James joked with a smug smirk. 

Tom scoffed, rolling his eyes, “You’re really hating this, huh?” 

Clark nudged James, “No, he doesn’t, he’s just being a bitter asshole, like the big brother he was to be.” 

“Yeah,” James confirmed. “I hate any guy who dates her, she may be a pain in the ass but no one deserves her.” 

Tom was slightly hurt by that, though he agreed, he knew James had never been this reluctant as when she was dating Tim. Tom faked a laugh anyway.

Clark glared at James. “You’re doing exactly what I fucking told you not to.” 

“Please,” James grinned. “Tom perfectly knows I’m joking, they’re so bloody meant to be it’s making me sick, but I still forbid you to even fucking hold her hand,” he said as he put on a jacket. 

Tom was slightly calmed by that statement. “‘Lright.” 

“But no, I wouldn’t worry about Sam, Sam is probably talking about a theory he came up about something, he was watching Sherlock last night, I think so… You know how he is.” 

Tom chuckled, “right.” 

“And they haven’t seen each other in so long so he just probably took the chance.” 

“Right,” Tom said, and it did make sense. 

Clark and James left, eventually after telling Tom their plans. Tom was still slightly nervous. 

When y/n came back, her eyes were distraught and distracted. 

“Everything okay?” Tom asked, quickly. 

She licked her lips, “Yeah, yeah, we…” 

“You don’t seem alright,” Tom pointed out. 

“Yeah, I… No,  don’t worry, Sam just…” She nodded to herself, as if she was figuring out her thoughts on her own. 

“You sure?” Tom pushed. 

Y/N only nodded before walking away

Sam was walking by too, “Don’t worry, let her… sit in her thoughts.” 

“What did you say to her?” Tom asked. 

“Nothing that prejudices you, don’t worry,” Sam said. 

Y/N needed some clothes and to start packing. y/n was quiet for another moments, and then asked to go to her flat, she wasn’t distraught anymore. Tom and her talked again, he didn’t push the Sam subject, but they talked, apparently it was something they were doing now. While in the car, just like they had in the morning, talking, calmly. With a few jokes in between. 

Y/n didn’t know how, probably Tom either but he was teasing, like old times. Both of them making fun of each other, remembering. 

“You sure you want to do this?” He asked as they were climbing the outside stairs to y/n’s apartment, he reached for her hand to stop her. 

She looked back, she wondered how their silhouettes looked, very Romeo and Juliet probably. Romantic. 

“Do what?” She asked, “go upstairs?” 

“No, dumbass,” he chuckled, as he took a step forward but she was still ahead. “Move in?” 

Honestly, she did have some doubts, that had nothing to do with Tom, and nothing to do with her apartment. Y/N had doubts on herself, not with Tom, but she—still was unsure on how she would feel when they would have to leave, eventually. Back to London. She was doubting the process of going back to London. And moving in with Tom meant she’d eventually have to. Or—what if she had to stay? How would she find another apartment—or would she have to move in back with Emma and Tim? Would Emma even stay in LA? And would Tim? 

No worries with Emma but—Tim. 

She’d worry about it later. 

“Yes,” she smiled as she pulled his hand, he climbed to the same step. “I’m sure, besides, it’s not like I’m moving in today, I’m just—getting some clothes,” she reminded him. 

“Right?” 

“Are you sure?” She asked. Maybe he hadn’t asked because of her but because of him. Maybe Tom was second guessing the proposal that had come in so abruptly. 

Y/N had not initially answered when he had asked, after all, he had blurted it out in a very compromising position.

“What?” she had asked. 

“That—was stupid wasn’t it?” It had been. But, really, y/n was used to his stupidity. 

And they had remained quiet on the ride. Tom had been so embarrassed for even daring to think of it, let alone asking it. 

Tom had tried to cut the silence. “I—“

“I just—“she laughed as she interrupted. “So—I was—you know, on top of you and you thought—Yes, I want to move in with her, that was what was going through your mind?” 

Tom turned red, “I—no—“

“Your mind was elsewhere while we—was it that boring—?”

“No!” He coughed. “I—No, nothing like that—No, I just—It was on my mind before it happened and—“

“It was on your mind?” 

“Yes. You mentioned how you had to move out and I couldn’t help but think that—I—forget it, it’s stupid.” 

“It’s not.” 

“What?” 

She had paused. “How crazy would it be? Like—Even in New York we had to get rid of the other room because—“

“Yes but—This is months—“

She paused, “right.” 

“I mean—I would love to,” he admitted. “We could—I dunno, waking up to you every morning sounds like a dream come true.” 

She only smiled shyly. 

“But no, it’s stupid right? Uh—should we go for something to eat?” 

“Yeah—“

“I—no—I actually did mean it,” he confessed. “I do mean it, it wasn’t the heat of the moment or whatever.” 

“You’re asking me to move in with you?” She questioned. As if trying to make him realize what he was really offering. 

“Yes, I am,” he had said firmly. “I—just think about the perks we would have.” 

“Oh, no, I know about those—“she sassed, chuckling slightly. 

“Like—we could drive together to set all the time and you could—Uh, there’s this room that you could use to write? Yes—and uh, we don’t even have to be on the same room, when James leaves you can take the room he was sleeping in.” 

She was amused, and watched him with a smirk, “so, roommates? Is that where we are standing now?” 

“No—But if you think it’s soon—“

“It is soon,” she pointed out. “But when have we ever—been good with any timing in our relationship?” 

He chuckled nervously, “true—But I mean—if it’s too soon then we don’t have to sleep on the same bed.”

She only watched him. 

They did go to a drive thru, and stayed quiet again. Tom had been so nervous about it. And he knew y/n didn’t believe him that he actually was offering it to her. 

“So, want to be my roommate?” He offered as he’d drove home, they had stayed at the car, sitting on the trunk, probably because neither of them wanted to face everyone in the house yet. 

“I—have been thinking about it,” she admitted. “But—being honest.” 

“Yes?” 

“I don’t think we could stay in separate rooms,” she recalled. “I—I mean—“

“Why—not?” 

“Tom.” 

“I—I—it’s cause, I know it’s soon but that way you don’t have to find another place, and—“

“No, no—I—like the idea but—“

“Yes?” 

“But… Are you seriously offering being… roommates?” 

He coughed, “Roommates who kiss occasionally.” 

She rolled her eyes, “Uh-huh.” 

“Look I… I don’t know, I… Ideally, you could move in and we’d be sharing a room,” he hesitated. 

“So coupley,” she joked. 

“I thought we… were that?” He questioned. 

She gave him a smile, “Well, yes, that’s why I figured we can’t be in separate rooms, and honestly even if we were I know I’d crawl my way to you.” 

He watched her with curiosity, as if he couldn’t quite understand why she was asking if he was sure. He was, and it didn’t matter if they moved in or not, she was his home, as cliché as it may sound. And it was exciting, though a bit scary, he was sure of it. 

“Yes, I’m sure,” he grinned. “Why-wouldn’t I be?” 

The sun had posed on her lashes as she dedicated him a very shy smile. Tom wasn’t scared anymore. Though they’d started in a very cheerful spring and ended in New York for a very nice summer, the autumn was now their very best. A breeze made her hair fly, and they kept their way, Tom could only smile at the way the sun made its way through her face, as if it was made to shine on her. 

Tom knew they had to still mend each other’s hearts, delicately. But they had each other for so, and the future looked bright. Just like the sun in her face.

Y/N opened the door to the apartment, and Tom feared just a little, that their incredible drea would tumble down if Tim was there. He… wasn’t. 

Was it selfish to think that he somehow knew y/n would eventually come back to him? Was it that selfish to have that feeling so strong? He had thought about it, all night. A love so stubborn that they’d find a way to each other, even pretend to hate just to have a reason to talk to each other. Maybe they were young and knew nothing about love and it was stupid, but they knew everything about each other. 

He knew they’d be able to talk about the rain, they’d danced enough under it to know they would see it bittersweet. Maybe it wasn’t selfish to think she’d come back, because he knew he would, too. 

Y/N walked in and stared at the couch, curiously. There were a few clothes here and there. 

“What?” Tom asked. 

“I didn’t see the car,” she pointed out. She headed to the kitchen and opened the fridge, getting out two beers, handing him one, “I guess they’re not here… the place is…” She shook her head as she frowned. “Nothing.” 

He knew it meant something, but if she didn’t want to share it then it meant she didn’t want him to know. He didn’t push it. 

He followed after her into her room, he sat on the bed and looked around. Her room was so… her. She always managed to make things hers, as if she had this mystical touch to transform everything into beautiful things. He always wondered how she did it, how she managed to turn the not so nice apartment into something liveable. 

Maybe that’s why she hadn’t broken up with him, because she’d even turn her heartbreak into something beautiful.

There was something beautiful in them, fragile things often tend to be the most expensive and the things you care for the most. He looked at the flowers, dried out now but decorative. Pretty. 

Her camera, some writings, polaroids. She was looking through her clothes, and Tom only remembered when she was packing back for New York. But she had boxes now. 

He beamed as he then walked through her room, he could still smell the perfume from the flowers hanging. All of them were yellow, or some tone near yellow. She had maps, also, with some places circled. He saw her notebook that she took to set, the script with scribbles and his name circled. Flowers sketched around it, he smiled. 

But there was a noise heard outside, a laugh? 

Both Tom and y/n frowned and tried to peek through the door, and then a view they had not expected. Emma’s laughter echoed through the apartment as she made her way to the kitchen, topless or her bare back gave away that impression, with Harry following right behind wearing only a pair of boxers, harmonizing his laughter with his, as he ran to her and hugged her from behind, kissing her bare neck. 

Both y/n and Tom widened their eyes as they turned to each other, with surprise. Tom quickly rushed to close the door, Y/N did the same as they quietly closed her bedroom door. And as soon as they had, they both tried not to laugh. 

“Oh my god,” both of them whispered, red from embarrassment, still trying to contain their laughter. 

“What the fuck?” Tom asked, happy for his brother, but also very uncomfortable. 

She snorted, “I don’t know,” she answered quietly. “Oh my god?” 

“Do you think they fucked?” Tom asked. 

“That’s your brother!” She playfully smacked his arm, giggling. “But… Oh my god, they totally did.” 

“Oh for fucking sure they did.” 

“That’s why Harry wasn’t—oh my god?”

“I… oh my god,” Tom pinched the bridge of his nose. 

“I saw her boobs,” Y/N laughed, a bit too loud and Tom quickly covered her mouth. 

“Shut up, idiot,” He said. “They’re like fucking deers, they’ll be startled!” 

Y/N couldn’t stop giggling so instead she buried into his chest, expecting the shirt to cover the sound. 

“I… Okay, but…” Tom smirked. “Do you think they pulled a ‘Tom and y/n’ and just…?” 

“I mean,” she chuckled. “It’s an effective method. 

Tom chuckled. “He fucking judged us yesterday—?”

“Yes but I guess he saw us and went: huh that worked for them?” 

Tom cackled. “I can’t believe Emma would give in—“

“Oh, so you—“she frowned. “Emma wouldn’t but I would?” 

Tom knew he had fucked up, as he often does, cause he’s a man and an idiot. “Shit—No—I didn’t.” 

“Am I that easy to persuade?” She asked. 

“No—I don’t mean it, like that, I just mean that—“

“That Emma wouldn’t be up for makeup sex but I would?” 

“You have—been up for—,” he stated. “Look—I didn’t—“

She chuckled, “so you think you are in control of it?” She pointed out. 

“Psh, I know you can’t resist me, darling.”

She smirked, “Tommy, please.” 

He gulped, “I—okay, no I’m not but I didn’t mean it like that.” Tom rolled his eyes, chuckling. “Fine, you can do whatever you want to me, I give in.” 

“You’re such an idiot.”

“Harry!” And a giggle was heard from outside. 

Tom closed his eyes. “Wait—Please—please tell me they’re not going to—Go for it, again.” 

Y/N looked up. “I—I—Hope not?” She was scared. 

 “Are we trapped?” Tom asked. 

Y/n chuckled, “seems like we are.” 

“Great,” Tom sighed as he plopped on the bed. “Do you think she—forgave him?” 

“Shut up, you’re an idiot,” they heard Emma yell.  

Y/N listened and nodded before sitting beside him, handing him his beer “Dunno, but did you hear? Poor thing she’s bloody in love with him.” 

“She called him an idiot,” Tom pointed out, confused..

Y/N chuckled to herself, watching him comically, she smirked before drinking from her beer, “I know, dumbass.” 

Tom frowned, “So, she is mad right?” 

“Oh my god,” she pinched the bridge of her nose. “You’re an idiot.”

“I’m—Oh.” 

He was an idiot. 

Tom, even if he would not dare to say it out loud was slightly jealous of his brother. In a weird way. In a way that Tom aspired to be the most adorable couple and Harry and Emma had always been 1st on that place. 

Tom knew Harry and Emma specialized on being adorable, hence why Harry would not stand Tom and y/n. 

They were such different couples. But there were a lot of similarities, Harry and y/n were very alike, very reserved. Tom and Emma were also very alike, so open and so cheerful. 

But Harry and Emma had more in common, they were very different in the way they approached things, which often came as a blessing and more often than not, it was not a blessing. They were so stubborn. 

Which was the difference with y/n and Tom who were so different, y/n was so into her world, calmly escaping in films, music, clothing, pretty things. While Tom escaped with the gym, golf and parties. 

Y/N loved quiet, Tom loved loud and yet. 

They were there, locked in y/n’s room and though there probably were a million other things to do, they both laid down with their feet resting against the wall. Trying to ignore Harry and Emma who god knows what they were doing. Talking about everything and nothing at all. 

Hands playing with each other’s hands. 

“No, but like—Mr. Darcy is just—“y/n sighed, dramatically. “He is a dream come true.”

Tom chuckled, “He’s emotionally unavailable.” 

“Yes, he is an idiot,” y/n pointed out, “which—of course , it makes sense I’d fall in love with him.” 

“I don’t understand why—Like, okay, the actor is handsome but—“

“Oh my god Thomas, no,” she interrupted. “I mean yes but it’s the story.”

Tom laughed. “The story?”

“It’s enemies to lovers,” she said as if it was obvious enough already. 

It’s fair to point out now, Tom was very dumb. “What?” He proved it with that. 

“I—“She chuckled. “Tommy, okay—So it’s��enemies to lovers who love each other but they don’t give in because of their misconceptions of each other.” 

“Yeah, it’s in the title—pride and prejudice,” he remarked. “So what? Why do you love it so much?”

Y/N looked at him as if she was reconsidering every life choice she’d ever made. “I—It’s ironic, even, Thomas.” 

“What is?” 

“What were we before we dated?” 

“Sad?” 

“I—“she chuckled. “No—I mean.” 

“What?”

“We were enemies, Thomas.” 

Tom then realized how stupid he was. He closed his eyes as he finally made the realization. “Oh.” 

“Yes—Oh, dumbass.” 

“But—Okay, I thought we would be more like Mr Bingley and Jane” 

She laughed, softly. “Please, you’re not nearly as adorable and you were just as emotionally unavailable to me half your life.”

“I was—Okay but like—I—I thought.”

“No, those two out there? They’re Bingley and Jane.” 

“Oh, makes sense...so, you and I are Mr. Darcy and Lizzie?”

“No, we are idiots.” 

Tom nudged her. “Yes, idiot but I meant—“

“Hm are we?”she questioned. 

“You’re just as stubborn as she is so,” Tom smirked. “I love you most ardently.” 

“You have bewitched me body and soul,” she proclaimed. 

“I think we are like them, even better,” he grinned. 

“No, I love you but no, we are not,” she smiled.“However, I do wonder how Jane and Bingley are doing.” 

Tom laughed. “I am pretty sure we are good to go out, are you ready to go? Packed enough for some days at least?” 

“Yeah, almost,” y/n said as she stood up after kissing his cheek. 

Tom watched her, “what did you and Sam talk about?” 

Y/N paused, “Stuff.” 

So she didn’t want to tell him, why? Tom coughed, “Uh, but are you okay?” 

“He… just made the type of questions Sam usually makes, you know, the one that… makes you think” y/n said and then took a deep breath. 

“Oh, those are… dangerous,” Tom pointed out. 

She turned to him,“I know-We agreed on talking, but let me just figure this one out and then I can tell you.” 

“Should I be worried?” he asked.

“No, not you,” she said. 

“Someone should?” 

She chuckled, “I… No, but… It’s just…” 

Tom only watched, still nervously and anxiously sitting on her bed. 

She smiled at him and dropped what she was doing, she walked over to him and wrapped her hands around him, “trust me, you don’t have to worry,” and she kissed the top of his head. 

Y/N picked up some of her stuff, as she’d walked out, she made sure neither Harry or Emma were around, they did not have to know they were there. Tom followed after helping her with some more stuff. But just as they were making their way, two doors opened, Emma’s and the front door. 

And then the flat was too crowded. 

Too crowded. 

Tim had walked in with Cherry following behind, stopping abruptly as they’d seen the other two couples. Emma was probably debating whether to watch the couple who had been already inside or the one just coming in. 

Emma felt this one familiar feeling, like she could hear sirens and she could see the red fire burning all the flat, like when she’d seen her own engagement party tumble down. Her skin scorched as the flames grew stronger. 

Harry felt it, too. Glass shattered for him, and now if he walked any further, he would shatter. Both of them were tired of this. Harry didn’t want to feel this fragile but he couldn't help it. 

Everyone remained frozen, as if they knew they were in a minefield and any further movement would break them all apart. Tom’s only instinct was to reach for y/n’s arm, as if he was protecting her. He only looked at her, trying to figure out what exactly was going through her mind. 

Y/N’s expression was very hard to read, but she gripped on tight to the box she was holding. Her skin was blazing, too, Tom could tell. Was she angry? Disappointed? Had her heartbreak come back? 

Was she mad at him or Tim? Or Cherry? Her sight was focused on those last two. Her breathing was fractured. 

Everyone remained completely still. 

Waiting for someone to shatter the utter and raging silence still lingered in the room.

Tom was the most scared one. But Tom only glared at Tim, whichever his intentions with Cherry were, were probably not good. And he was angry not only for y/n, but for Cherry. Tom was well aware of the power Tim held with vulnerable people and Tom could tell Cherry would be vulnerable right now. 

Tim opened his mouth but nothing could come out, he glared back at Tom. Tom tried to fight the urge to punch Tim in the face. Because probably Tim was judging y/n and Tim would probably try and persuade y/n into thinking this was a bad idea. 

Tim eyed the box up and down, then looked at y/n. 

“Please, for the love of god, do it somewhere else, whatever the fuck you’re doing, don’t do it here, don’t ruin my day,” Emma finally spoke, out loud. It’s fair to point out, they were dressed now. Fully dressed. Tom assumed they would go out. 

Harry only glanced at Tom, as if warning him to listen to Emma. 

Tom sighed. 

Tim glared at Emma. 

The next movement was made by y/n. She only walked past Tim and Cherry, ignoring them. 

Tom was… surprised. 

“Y/N, can I talk to you?” Cherry’s voice had barely come out of her mouth, as if each word had physically pained her. 

Y/N stopped, glared at Tim and then turned to Cherry. “Sure.” 

No one had expected that from her. Especially Tim, he thought y/n would have only ignored her and just escaped. Tim didn’t know this, but y/n didn’t blame Cherry.

“Not fucking with this,” Emma dragged Harry out the apartment, they didn’t fucking need this drama. And they wouldn’t deal with it. She snatched the car keys from Timmy and kept dragging Harry. “Good luck,” she warned to y/n. 

“Bye,” Harry whispered led to them. 

Y/N watched them, Tom swore he saw her smile a little, but it was quickly erased as she turned to cherry. “So?” 

Cherry blinked, also baffled by y/n’s positive answer. 

“Right now?” Y/N asked. 

Tom only watched them. 

Cherry gulped, “Yeah, yeah--” 

“Here?” Y/N questioned. 

“I... Don’t know,” Cherry said, but she was speaking carefully. Terrified of y/n. Not that her cousin would be harsh on her, but y/n’s blank expression was enough to scare her off. 

“Your mum’s cafe is only a few blocks away, we could walk there,” Y/N suggested and then walked back to the flat, leaving the box on the counter. She gave a reassuring nod to Tom. 

Tom wasn’t scared of Cherry, it’s only fair to note. Tom was actually calm;  they could talk, but he wondered what Tim’s twisted mind had planned this time. Why the hell had Tim brought her here? 

Tim coughed, “are you guys sure?” 

“Why the fuck wouldn’t I be sure, Timothée?” Y/N questioned. “It’s my cousin, I should speak to her. None of your fucking business.” 

Tim frowned, she’d never spoken to him like that. 

Tom smirked, just lightly. 

“Of course,” Tim hissed. “But—“

“But what?” Y/N snapped. “You’re good to go, Cherry?” Cherry watched between everyone, she then directed a single glance to Tom. She was hurt, and Tom recognized that face. Not from Cherry, Cherry had the same face y/n had when he’d shown up at her house to give her the yellow flowers. The same damn face, so hurt. 

“Do you—“Tim pushed. 

“Oh my god, fucking leave her alone,” Tom interrupted again. “Can’t you for once fucking leave her alone?” 

Tim scoffed, “you’re one to talk?” 

Y/N rolled her eyes. “I—I’m not even going to—“ she left, Cherry carefully followed behind. 

Tim seemed stressed. 

Tom was angry, he was about to go back into y/n’s room, when Tim spoke again, “Why the fuck does she get back to you when you’re always the shittiest to her?” 

“I’m not going to fucking argue this with you,” Tom snapped. “I don’t even want to bloody ask why the fuck you brought Cherry here?” 

“How the fuck was I supposed to know—?”

 “No, fucking no, I dont bloody care and you know what? Also fucking leave Cherry alone I know your thing is going after vulnerable girls or whatever the fuck but—“

“I’m not—“

“Fucking stay away from them, both,” Tom warned. “Cherry doesn’t need a manipulative fucker like you.” 

Tim watched him with repulsion, “You do realize you hurt them both by doing exactly the fucking same? You were a piece of shit—“

“And are you fucking taking advantage of that? Are you going to bloody antagonize me again?” Tom barked. 

“You bloody antagonize yourself!” Tim yelled at him. “Like are you fucking serious? You really just fuck everything up, it’s so incredibly stupid. I am really just impressed by it.” 

“I know I fuck up, but I own it! You have no business in my relationship with y/n—“

“No, I know that—“

“And I don’t want you to fucking come close to her, You never bloody admit what you fucking do, you just fucking paint yourself as the hero when you know damn well you are manipulating them, and you are doing the same thing with Cherry?” Tom blurted, he knew that if y/n was gullible and vulnerable she didn’t even come near to Cherry. And Tom did care for Cherry, in his own way, and Tom did not want to see it again, Tim being painted as the hero. 

“Doing what?” Tim had his posture hard enough, arms crossed with his eyes burning with rage. He did not stand him. 

“For fuck’s sake, you don’t even see it?”

“What I see is you slept with y/n’s cousin and fucking tricked her again, both of them,” Tim snarked. “You were not here. You always come back when she’s doing better—You we’re not here when she was crying, she was so destroyed, yet again.” 

“Ah, yes I was living rainbows and butterflies,” Tom rolled his eyes. 

Tim could not believe Tom dared to be sarcastic. “You made a fucking mess yourself, the script wasn’t even that bad for starters and you were the one to ruin Emma’s engagement, only because you fucking assumed y/n loved Harry. Which is the one most stupid thing you’ve ever done in your life,” Tim continued. 

Tom only clenched his jaw. 

“You decided to make everything big as you always fucking do and not talk, because you—“

“How many words did she not get from you? Did you not bloody tell her I am her—what was it—perfidy?” 

Tim stayed quiet. 

“I’m not saying I wasn’t shit but you painted me as a—monster, yes that’s the word she used. I admit I broke her heart, but you don’t bloody know a thing about me and y/n—“Tom was fuming.

“I didn’t have to.” But Tim seemed cold now, and he was hearing it, 

“Why don’t you bloody realize it? Yes I’ve hurt y/n, but you’ve hurt her too much, too. She feels so guilty, you’ve managed to make her feel guilty for not loving you—That's why she does all of this—I—I can’t deal with this, there’s no bloody point. And I meant it, stay away from Cherry.” 

And Tim wasn’t in love, but he did fall, and until then he finally broke. Had he been breaking y/n all this time? 

previous chapter next chapter   perennial masterlist.

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[themoontaxi]

hi hanna! many congrats on 100, lovely ! <3

this celebration is so cute and creative it took me so long to decide

🧁, 🍦(taylor swift , speak now), 🥞 (large) 🍓 and 🍫

congrats again, and here’s to so many more milestones! :)

- lilacprentiss

neveah <33333 i finally finished it!

it took me an eternity but here we are 💞

first up your lil mood board 🍫 it’s my first :)

you can find the playlist to it here: 🥞

(i added ten more songs since you waited so long :) and put them in an order that i thought had a nice flow)

here’s my thought process while choosing the tracks:

paradise, beautiful, gold, iridescent, heaven, easy to love & all this and heaven too describe your blog, content and you perfectly 💛

the last unicorn because you’re a silver lining in dark times & your grace is unmatched - to a point where some might get jealous and try to hunt you down

too shy & noticed because i’m so glad we’re mutuals and your tags under my posts always make me smile, i’d love to talk more but i’m shy haha

daffodils, magnolias & black water lilies elegant flowers for an elegant lady 🌺

daydreaming & so close to magic because your blog is simply enchanting

white flag & heart of gold because you seem peaceful and kind 🤍

god is a woman and she has your name

aber ohne dich (but without you), i know alone, if i ever lose your love, let your good heart lead you home, herz (heart) & heart-shaped box because you may feel lonely sometimes, but your heart will go on, you deserve a happy-end

stay awake & your moon hello fellow nighthawk 🌚

salt, honey & stars and butterflies just random things i love and associate with you 🦋

every cloud, cloudy shoes & lila wolken (lilac clouds) because i loooved your cloud theme and you often bear the ☁️ emoji

trust & devotion because i’d always trust your eye for aesthetics and you’re devoted to your creations <3

flower of the desert flowers again, mixed with the enduring thing - one drop of water will keep you going

stardust & moonstone are you sure you’re human? you seem ethereal to me ✨

wisdom cries & when i was older because i think you’re wise for your age

i could cry just thinkin about you need i explain?

your 🧁 <3

since you probably can’t speak german: the song is about the ephemerality of perfect moments, about everything moving so fast that it’s nice to slow down sometimes, about falling into your lovers‘ arms and disregarding everything else for a short eternity

Kannst du mich noch einmal in den Arm nehm'?

can you wrap your arms around me one more time?

Noch einmal in den Arm nehm'

wrap me in your arms again

Zieh‘ mich so nah wie's geht zu dir

pull me as close as possible

Und dann dreh’n wir uns langsam

and then we’ll spin slowly

Gegen die Uhr der Zeit

against the hands of time

Langsam

slowly

they were my favorite german band for the longest time :)

as for your 🍦, here are my top 5:

enchanted

sparks fly

haunted

better than revenge

mine

excellent choice btw! and usually i’d tell you my all time favorite songs now as well, since i know taylor swift of course, but i fear i would simply be listing her whole discography lmao

and lastly, your 🍓:

magnolias are my favorite flower, i have two trees in my mother’s garden that i adore with my whole heart

the last unicorn was my favorite movie as a child, although i did get quite a few nightmares from it

clueso (the guy who sings aber ohne dich and herz) is from the capital of my state/region. maybe that’s why his music feels like coming home

lena (who is featured here with stardust) was my idol from 4th grade on for some years. her first album was the first cd i bought for myself

since there were so many songs i couldn’t decide haha

i really hope you enjoy(ed) this, it took so long and was made with love 💜

i would appreciate it so much if you would let me know about your experience here <3

thanks for visiting!

[tyk-tyk-tyk]

(its iwontknock, i wish tumblr would let us send asks from second blogs) on my post you said your first d&d character was the lodger and i am SO curious about that!! can i ask more about that, like what his class was? id love to hear about your portrayal!

Well, I hope my fellow players don’t pay attention to this blog lol. If you are GO AWAY YOU NERDS Tw for child death and unethical experimentation juuuust in case, I know Knock-Knock has a lot of that regardless but if D&D folks see this too I want there to be a heads up

Looong post under the cut, adding tags in a sec

I’m actually kinda thrilled that you asked, we haven’t started the reboot yet, but hopefully we will soon! When I first started playing him, I was hella inexperienced and a little shy, so I didn’t quite get to fully do what I wanted with him & had a HORRIBLE backstory, but I’ll give a few details anyways. Then I’ll explain what I’m gonna do with his reboot haha

To also save some confusion, I named The Lodger “Bormot” as that’s what some of his voice files are called, it’s just a Russian name that means “Mumble” :)

I made him a half elf druid! It was a lot to tackle at first, but I really felt like it fit his character. Whereas druids are usually blessed by the Earth and such yadda yadda, I made it so that the Earth borderline cursed him by being in the wrong spot at the wrong time. He comes from this long line of elf intellectuals, and still does his worldology stuff out in the middle of nowhere. After he gets cursed though, his home starts dying and he pulls a “Well, this isn’t good!” and runs away and ends up meeting the party. Did I mention that he’s a half elf that doesn’t believe in magic bc of his sheltered life? More on that later. Some fun stuff that ended up happening is he literally met half plant people (my DM had no idea LOL) and Bormot proceeded to have a panic attack and casted Call Lightning by accident. We were like level 15 btw I came in LATE He also managed to talk down a dragon despite his low charisma score (I think I actually rolled well and my DM took pity on me, a new player)

The ‘rebooted’ version of him is still largely the same, a half elf druid, just with more of a fleshed out story. His Grandfather is kind of this disgraced elf who hates magic since he thinks his peers rely on it too much, they don’t use their braiiiiins. So he then raises Bormot’s (half elf) dad to reject magic, and continue their worldology science that’s Definitely A Real Science I Swear. Bormot’s dad gets married ofc and decides to live in the middle of nowhere where he can conduct his science in peace with his family. The wife gives birth to a beautiful baby girl shortly after! While on a hunting trip, Bormot’s dad shoots at something he thinks is a deer, but ends up being an old & weak God. Oops. So he does what any responsible scientist does and vivisects the thing before it dies, taking lots of samples of its blood. This kinda makes him lose his mind as now there’s real, physical evidence in front of him that higher powers and magic might be a pretty valid thing. So of course he does what any highly responsible father does and puts some zesty ichor (God Blood) into his child just to see what happens! She dies, unfortunately, as the powers that be of a god isn’t something a really tiny elf girl’s body can handle. The mother enters grief and becomes more overprotective. having no idea that her husband accidentally killed their child. She gives birth to Bormot a long while later. Daddy-o doesn’t want the wife to know about his experimentation since she’ll whine about MoRaLs and refuse to let him inject more blood into their son, so he keeps it a secret for as long as he can. When Bormot is older, he tries again, and it works! ... Sort of. Now the poor kid is having constant nightmares and hallucinations, and is having trouble both sleeping and meditating. He’s freaked out about the potential magic that he has, since his dad said that magic isn’t real, and his dad is definitely always right and doesn’t lie! He grows up like this his whole life. Bormot’s mom does actually end up finding out about it and gets into an argument with the dad, so the dad does what any responsible husband would do and kills her after it escalates. At least he feels guilty for this one. Her body is buried next to the sister’s near some pine trees so the roots will hopefully grow over them and conceal the bodies more. Bormot has no idea he even had a sister, and his dad lies and says that his mom left. When Bormot’s old enough to live on his own, his dad peaces out to conduct more research and tries to prolong his own death, even if he has a lot of years left. Bormot starts the game around when he leaves his house, wondering where his dad ran off to & wants to learn what the hell is up with his hallucinations and Not Real Magic.

I left out details since this was already getting so LONG, sorry mobile users Anyway the TLDR is Bormot’s dad makes a lot of bad decisions that leads to Bormot being a druid hermit that doesn’t believe in magic, and his journey with his friends is all about realizing that he’s more than his worldology ‘legacy’ and that magic is indeed real and it isn’t bad to embrace it. But we’ll see if he makes it to the end or dies to a goblin or something

Thanks for reading my self indulgent D&D rambles, I can give updates if anyone is ever curious about it later

[fanfics4all]

Nightmare To Daydream

Request: Yes / No  Could you do like a monty green × fem! reader where like they were best friends and (they have crushes on each other)then they get arrested and sent to the ground and like they confess their feelings after the reader almost gets killed or very badly hurt while trying to escape mount weather? I know this os really trashy but like could you? Love you writing btw🖤🖤 Anon

Don’t be shy, request things! <3 Have a nice day/night

Monty Green x Fem!Reader

Word count: 519

Warnings: Getting drilled for bone marrow! 

Y/N: Your Name 

Y/N/N: Your NickName

PLEASE DO NOT STEAL MY WORK, I WORK HARD ON MY FICS AND IT’S NOT COOL TO STEAL SOMEONE ELSE’S WORK! 

If you want to be on the tag list for anything (My series fics, specific character fics, or just all of them) All you have to do is send me an ask and I will add you! 

Masterlist 

(Not my photo, credit to whoever made it!)

Mount Weather was the worst nightmare in the world. At first they were really nice and my best friend Monty trusted them, I did too. But that changed when they started hunting us in their mountain for our bone marrow. They found out that they could use it to go back to the ground. Clarke was coming back to save us, but right now we were chained up and watching our friends getting repeatedly drilled and killed. Cage came in every few kids and now he was back again. 

“Do this one next.” He said picking me and my eyes widened. 

“No! No please!” I begged, but it was no use. They grabbed me and I tried fighting against them, but it was no use. 

“No! Stop!” Monty shouted. They locked me on the table and I felt tears falling down my cheeks. 

“Please! Take me instead!” Monty begged. 

“Shut up!” Cage growled at him. The drill started and it pushed into my side. I screamed loudly in pain. Monty kept screaming at them to stop, but they just ignored him. Soon Jasper was brought in and he wasn’t cuffed properly. I saw a knife in his hand and he gave me a nod, he was going to attack Cage! Before he could everyone that hadn’t been treated with our bone marrow started burning from radiation. Jasper’s eyes widened and he ran out. A few minutes later Octavia ran in with keys and started setting us free. As soon as Monty was free he rushed over to me. 

“Are you alright?” He asked. 

“In pain.” I groaned as he tried to help me sit up. He stopped and laid me back down. 

“I’m sorry, you’re gonna be okay though.” He said. Abby came over to us and she grabbed some bantages that were nearby. She did a quick patch up and Monty helped me back to the camp. Abby wanted me in the medbay to really patch me up. Once she finished I had to stay for a few days. Monty came in and sat next to me, holding my hand. 

“I’m sorry.” He said sadly. 

“What are you sorry about? It’s not your fault.” I said confused. 

“I didn’t do a great job of protecting you.” He sighed. 

“You were literally chained up.” I said with a giggle. 

“I’m serious Y/N/N, I should have tried to do something, like Jasper was going to do.” He said. 

“Monty, there is literally nothing you could do.” I said, gently squeezing his hand. 

“I love you!” He blurted out and my eyes widened. My best friend and crush really loved me? 

“I-I love you too.” I said and he kissed me. His lips were chapped, but I didn’t care. I’ve dreamed about this moment for so long I wrapped my arms around his neck and savored this moment. We pulled apart and I smiled so widely at him. 

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.” He said.

“You have no idea how long I wanted you to do that.” I said and we both laughed. 

Tag list: @les-bio-lie​ @tashy-bear​ @ashwarren32​ @hollie-blogs​ @schisbro87​ @lover-of-books-and-teas​ @nerdygaloresposts​ @teenwolfbitches2​ @genius2050​ @drw0301bieber​ @softgamerking​ @lady-of-lies​ @ravenmoore14​ @ravenempress101​ @cillianchamp​ @emo-godess-loves-you​ @now-imagine​

[theonceoverthinker]

82. Want to read another one of my Fair Game HC’s? I’m REEL-y happy to hear that!!!!

So, I’m sure many of you saw/read/participated in the Ace Op actors’ AMA today, where for the first time...really ever, but especially following 7X12, we got to hear Chris Whekamp’s perspective on what it was like to play Clover, and we were rewarded rather nicely! Look, we’ve had a rough past few weeks, and to see an actor who was actively sympathetic to our plight, who demonstrated that he himself put in a lot of effort into his character, and honestly just didn’t put his foot in his mouth the way a lot was honestly just the thing we needed.

While my question didn’t get answered, so many asked by my friends did, and I honestly couldn’t be prouder of them! 

Actually, I’m proud of all of us Clover fans and Fair Game shippers for how we behaved today. We were respectful, played by the rules, asked thought provoking questions that never entered rude or attacking territory, and kept our salt on Discord where it belonged. 

Honestly, my fandom experiences with fellow shipmates in past fandoms has had real ‘yikes’ moments (Even as recent as this week, with one of my friends being harassed and stalked), and especially given the raw deal we got three weeks ago, the way we conducted ourselves this afternoon was astoundingly mature! Special shout out to @fairgame-is-canon for being an amazing leader who has managed to keep such an emotional fandom dealing with such complex and intimidating forms of grief so well organized in the wake of this awful baiting nightmare! Rob, I think I speak for all of us in the Fair Game community when I say that you’re the fandom’s biggest spark of hope right now, and we couldn’t ask for anyone better to take on that role!

Okay! Thank you for indulging that aside of mine. Now onto the HC!

Among the things Chris spoke of was his feelings on Clover’s relationship to his weapon, Kingfisher. Now, Kingfisher has always been a really interesting thing to me. Even in a show with such a diverse set of weapons ranging from a scythe to a freakin’ trumpet, Kingfisher continues to stand out as one of the strangest. It’s a fishing rod. That’s it. Sure, we saw evidence that it MIGHT be a harpoon, but it was never used to that effect (Btw, if there was ever evidence of Clover coming back, it would be to finally see that harpoon in action), so all we’re left with is a fishing rod.

I actually touched upon theories regarding it in a previous HC, but I’m going to play with it once again because of Chris’ answer, namely that a young Clover liked to fish, and that hobby incorporated itself into Clover’s weapon when the time came to get/create one. I’ve wanted to do a Clover/Fair Game fishing HC for a while, and what better time could I have to choose to do it than now?

So, let’s do this!

-For the longest time, I pictured Clover fishing in a forest or coastal area, but considering that I also believe he never really left Atlas at all in his life, I could absolutely see him first learning to fish out in the tundra via-ice fishing. It would explain (1) how Clover is so comfortable doing missions in the arctic in just a sleeveless vest, and (2) a lot of Clover’s muscles because it makes sense that ice fishing would require a lot of power relative to other kinds of fishing because it has the added difficulty of maneuvering the resistant fish to where the hole created in the pond is, especially if the fish itself ends up being bigger than the initial hole he was working with.

-The first time Clover does any non-ice fishing fishing, it’s in Patch after he’s left Atlas. Because of all that resistance stuff I mentioned before, and its absence in the far warmer Patch, Clover ends up being really good at it! Like, he and Qrow are sent to go catch their dinner or are just fishing for funsies, and Clover’s plopping these massive fish over his head like it’s nothing. Qrow is staring at him, thinking, “I know Maidens can only be women, but is there some male variant on it that Oz never told me about (Not that it would surprise me) because THAT shouldn’t be possible!”

-Clover takes fishing trips fairly regularly. Sometimes, he’ll bring Qrow and they’ll make a day out of it. Qrow doesn’t love getting up early, not preparing the bait, but he loves relaxing once they’re out on the water. It’s so quiet and peaceful. I have this idea in my head that they usually get a boat big enough for Qrow to lean back all the way in. So Qrow will have his feet on the boat’s floor, his knees bent, and his back and neck against the wooden seats, holding his fishing rod casually in his hand. He looks up at Clover who is sitting up straight, sweetly smiling while looking down at Qrow. Clover calls him cute, and Qrow agrees, citing himself as “one hell of a catch.” It’s so peaceful out there. Qrow sits up whenever he get a bite and it gets very exciting as he pulls in his line. He’s not bad at fishing either -- not as good as Clover obviously, but he can get a few of his own catches with little issue.

-Clover and Qrow love cooking up the fish that they catch together. There’s something so satisfying about cooking up something that they caught themselves (Though they don’t like hunting). Even the gross parts of preparing the fish (A process that usually deters them from hunting) feels okay after a day out on the lake. They love pairing specific seasonings with different types of fish, sharing pieces of their dishes over dinner.

-Though Clover’s an expert when it comes to fishing in most places, the ocean has always given him trouble. He has trouble settling his line in the midst of all the waves, and just finding a spot that’s not too shallow or too unruly is really hard. It doesn’t stop him from trying, and Qrow loves him for his determination, but on some level, they both know it’s probably never going to happen. One day, Qrow throws out a line in for giggles while they’re hanging out on a dock, and within three minutes, gets a bite. That bite ends up being a nice, chunky sea bass. Qrow can’t stop laughing and gloating for over an hour after it happens, and Clover, jealous, pouts for the entirety of that hour. However, once he gets over himself and sees how happy it made Qrow to catch something like that when even Clover couldn’t, Clover smiles, realizing he wouldn’t change a thing about the circumstances.

Putting the tagged names under the cut because this got LONG!

Tagging @homokinetic @skybird13 @whipped4qrow @mooksie01 @luck-of-the-caw @xwildangel @solitude-of-stars @magneto-is-neato @o0nashipear0o @unfairgamey @doctorrwby @clover-and-co @megan-atthedisco @wash-my-brain @bisexualdisasterqrow @baelonthebrave @doubledexterity @rwby-things-i-guess @atlas-heartthrob @the-answer-was-bi-klance @compoterie @thuskindlyiboop @oceansquid @transdemion @deltastream21 @mimiori @xya-hunter

Want to be tagged in future Fair Game HC’s? Of course, you do! So send me a reply, PM, or ask to be added, and I’ll grant your greatest wish! XD

[death-himself]

Could You Meet Me Beyond the Grave?—Chapter 2

(previously known as Willow!Virgil)

previous next (AO3 Link)

Summary: The chapter in which Dee goes overprotective big brother mode and becomes a slight romantic cock-block

Pairings: Eventual LAMP/CALM, Remile, QPR RED

Word Count: 1,740

Warnings: Cursing, Child abuse (it’s the first paragraph in italics, you can just skip over it if that makes you uncomfortable), Nightmare, Deceit bein a big brother and mom (and also a bit manipulative)

(anything else you need tagged, let me know)

btw I’m thinking of changing the name of this story to something better than just Willow!Virgil by the time I get out the next chapter so be prepared for that

I woke up in the middle of the night to a prickling feeling running down my arm. I sat up, feeling the Braille as it formed. Looks like Roman was up at, I checked my clock, three in the morning again. I pulled out my pen, reading what he had written. When Roman's writing something at absurd times in the morning, it's usually meant for me.

"That guy at the store...who was that?"

"Which guy?"

"The one that led you away from me. Who said you had to leave."

"Oh, that was Dee." There was a pause for a moment. I couldn't help but wonder if he had passed out, before I felt more Braille form.

"...He doesn't harm you in any way, does he?" I blinked.

"No, of course not! He's basically my big brother. What made you think that?"

"Sorry, it's just...he seems a bit controlling is all. I mean, you're a grown man, and yet he's forcing you away from us! I mean, what do you have to fear?" A lot of things. I closed my eyes and wrote back. "Dee's overprotective, sure. But he's overprotective for a good reason. Get some sleep, alright?"

"...Alright. I love you, Stormcloud."

"I love you, too."

The next morning Roman and I had wiped away our conversation, only for it to be immediately replaced with Patton's excited scribbles, detailing a date at the mall they would be having, as well as his usual add-on asking me if I could go. This time I hesitated with my usual "not yet". I sat on the couch with Emile and Dee as reruns of Avatar the Last Airbender played on the TV.

It wouldn't hurt if I just went to the mall to meet them this once, right? So long as they didn't find out I was a Willow. All I have to do is wear those sunglasses and my scarf, and they won't suspect a thing. Roman didn't ask about the sunglasses last time, and I could just make up an excuse for the scarf.

The problem was sneaking out of the tower without Dee knowing. Luckily enough, I knew someone who knew exactly how to do that.

"Hey, where's Remy?" I asked, looking in the direction of Emile. He hummed, thinking. "Last I saw him he was in bed dealing with the aftermath of that shot of red bull and coffee grounds." I snickered, remembering last night when we had all begged him to put it down, with him of course not listening and downing three shots of the stuff before throwing up, and doing it again. "Oh, that reminds me! I should probably head up and get him some more water."

"I'll do that." I stood up, grabbing a water bottle from our supply and heading upstairs. I opened the door to Emile and Remy's room, being greeted by a loud, obnoxious groan. "We told you last night that this would happen. Did you listen? No! No, you didn't! Pay the price, bitch."

"Oh, shut up, you sleep-deprived raccoon. It's not like you haven't done this before."

"That's not the point." I handed him the bottle of water, sitting at the edge of his bed. I hesitated for a moment. "I could use some help." I asked quietly.

I heard him sit up, leaning closer to me. "What do ya need, babe?"

"I...I want to see my soulmates." The silence in the air was painful. I counted the seconds it took for him to process that.

"Look, Virgey, Dee's been trying to protect you for, what? 31 years? I get being excited about meeting your soulmates but...you saw how Dee felt about it earlier. Just wait until they're Willows, too, okay? Besides, I don't wanna betray him like this. I love Dee-Dee, and—"

"Come on, Rem, please? Just this once? They're already older than me, and if they die when they're like forty without me talking to them in person before then that's just gonna be really weird to think about and I mean sure I'm technically 50 when they're in their mid-twenties, but I'm biologically 19 and I don't know how this works and—"

"Okay okay! Calm down, gurl. Take a breather! Yeah, age when dealing with basically-immortal beings dating mortals is weird to think about."

"Like seriously, how the hell did you and Emile manage to die at the perfect time to make the two of you biologically the same age as Dee?" Remy laughed. "Luck and perfection, Virgey. Luck and perfection." There was silence for a moment, before Remy sighs, his arm wrapping around my shoulders. "I'll help you meet them." He then dramatically collapsed on the bed. "Now if only I could get rid of this sickness I feel in my stomach!"

"Get over yourself, Willows can't get sick like that." Remy whined. "You're no fun!" He giggled, then sat back up. "Alrighty, now here's the plan."

"Where are you two going?" I held back a shudder at Dee's words, his suspicious tone. Remy smirked next to me. "Don't worry, babe, we were just heading out to hunt. I'm not feeling all too good still, so Virgey agreed to come with me."

"Only to make sure you don't knock yourself unconscious with your damn sleeping gas." I muttered just loud enough for Dee to hear, just as Remy had told me to. Remy pretended to act offended.

"Ah, very well then." Dee spoke. I couldn't read his emotions, something that put me a bit on-edge. "Be careful, okay you two?" Emile asked, running over. I heard the sounds of him and Remy kissing. "I will, don't worry, babe. I'll make sure Virgey's nice and safe." We walked out of the tower in silence.

"Holy crap we actually did it." I whispered once we were all the way out of the forest surrounding the tower. Remy laughed joyously. "What did I tell you?" I gulped. "This is the first time I've really gone against him." Remy paused, letting out a small breath in disbelief. "31 years. And you never tried to go all 'teenage rebellion' on him?"

"Fuck no! Have you seen him when he's upset?" Remy hummed.

"I always found him shrieking to be kind of hilarious."

"You're weird, man."

"No you."

I ran a hand across the Braille on my arms. I had told my soulmates that I'd be able to go if we had the date be at sunset. After the expected vampire jokes from Roman, they all excitedly agreed. Now I just hoped that I wouldn't have to go back on this.

We reached the mall and stepped inside. They had said they would be waiting on the first floor, near the escalators. After Remy asked a security guard for some directions, we began to head over. "I can feel you vibrating."

"I'm not vibrating." I say as I nervously adjust my scarf for the umpteenth time.

"Mhm. Sure you aren't."

The mall was a lot busier than I would have expected so late at night. It was possible there was some kind of event happening, but considering we never really went to the mall, I didn't know for sure. All I knew was that all the loud people and their different scents all melding together...it was quite overwhelming. I took a deep breath, calming myself down a bit. I had a feeling we were almost there.

Someone then grabbed me by the hand and pulled me to a halt. "What are you doing here?" I held back a yelp, Dee whispering harshly into my ear. Remy laughed nervously. "Dee! Em-Em! Hey..." Dee sighed, pulling me in the opposite direction. "Come on, we're going home."

"Dee! Let go!"

"Explain what exactly you are doing here."

"I...I just wanted to see my soulmates. Just once, I was gonna be extra careful." Dee groaned.

"Virgil, you are acting like an impatient child. Wait until they die and turn. Otherwise you could put all of us in danger. Is that understood?"

"Dee—"

"Is that. Understood?" I sighed. "Yeah. Got it."

I let Dee guide me out of the mall, feeling Remy and Emile next to me. Emile grabbed my hand and gave it a comforting squeeze. "I'm sorry, Virgey." We got back to the tower, Remy and Emile lying on the couch, Emile humming softly. Dee sighed and pulled me into a hug. "I'm sorry, Virgil. I'm just trying to look out for you. Please, just be patient, okay?" I nodded, allowing him to hold me for a few more moments, before he pulled away. "Let's watch some TV before heading to bed, how about that?"

"...Sounds good."

I heard the shatter of a plate downstairs, and felt the terror coursing through my veins. My heart was pounding as I curled up in the closet, covering my ears as tears streaked my cheeks. Screaming came from the kitchen, and another plate shattered. I felt my blood go cold as I heard the loud THUD THUD THUD of boots stomping up the stairs. I wiped away my tears frantically, holding my breath. I bit my finger, holding back a whimper as my bedroom door swung open. My father pillaged through my room, before he stopped.

The footsteps came over to the closet, the doors thrown open. I felt my shirt being grabbed at the front, and I was lifted off the ground.

I shot up in bed, gasping for breath. I clutched at my chest, a strange relief going through me when I didn't feel a heartbeat. I waited until I stopped shaking, before slowly standing up and heading out of my room in the tower. I ran a hand across the wall, feeling the next door down and opening it, slipping inside. I walked over to the bed and lied down, curling up next to Dee. I felt him stir, before he sighed and muttered, "Another nightmare?" I nodded into his chest.

He wrapped an arm around me, pulling me closer and running a soothing hand through my hair. "Stay as long as you need."

I fell asleep to the cold of his body and the silence of his heart.

Dee ran a hand through Virgil’s hair, contemplating Virgil’s sudden change in behavior. He met one of his soulmates, then ran off to try and meet the rest. Dee sighed, hugging Virgil closer. “If this happens again,” he thought, “I may need to take some...extra measures.”

[oc-character-development]

More about my OC’s #1: Charlie Finch

For those who don’t know, Charlie is the character I created for the Monster of The Week one of my cousin’s friends are running (who I’ve now met and we get on like a house on fire like my cousin predicted we would, apparently we’re very much alike in personality, I don’t see it though) and although we haven’t started playing I’ve started developing my character with a backstory for the campaign. I thought I’d dive a bit more into the backstory from the previous post I did (which also included a awful drawing of Charlie because I can’t draw).

Detailed backstory:

Charlotte ‘Charlie’ Finch was born 16 years ago to two loving (and young) parents in Greenwich, London. Her parents were often busy with what she assumed was work (and she was technically right, her parents were working but for a coven of monster hunters that included my cousin’s character) but they were a happy small family who never missed an opportunity to spend time together. When Charlie was five, however things started to change, she started having horrendous nightmares and visions of monsters and the future, of course her parents were concerned about her and took her to a doctor who determined nothing was wrong and that she was just being a typical kid, and her mum kind of just brushed her nightmares off but her father didn’t. Her dad believed her every word but told her to keep her nightmares a secret between, due to it freaking people out and he promised to figure out what was wrong with her. One night, she had a nightmare that staged her dad being attacked by something unseen which scared her more than anything had before, her dad calmed her down and promised he wasn’t going anywhere.

A year later, when she was six, the worst happened, her dream became true. Whilst her mum and dad were out hunting a pack of werewolves for the coven and she was staying at her grandparent’s house, her dad was attacked by one of them and scratched across his face, passing on the Lycanthropy to him. Terrified of putting his daughter in danger, he left both his wife and daughter that night never to be seen again. To protect her from the truth, his wife told their daughter that he had been killed and that the killer had disappeared (A* parenting from her mum there) which the six year old accepted, heartbroken and was left feeling like it was all her fault.

Her mum then pulled out of monster hunting and continued with her teaching degree that she had started before she quit university, and worked her way up to becoming a headteacher by the time Charlie was twelve. By this time Charlie was a lot more withdrawn preferring to spend time in her room, reading and escaping to fantasy worlds within her books than spending time with her mum, and because she was often caught up in the grief and guilt for her dad she only had a few friends at school and was bullied for being weird.

By the time she meets my cousin’s currently unnamed professional character, she’s sixteen and is increasingly getting more aware that her dreams about monsters are becoming reality although she doesn’t believe that monsters and the supernatural are actually real. She has also developed social anxiety, which is going to be interesting when she actively accepts her role destiny as the chosen one and has to make speeches (it’s actually the in world reason for my real life inability to explain things or give speeches without stumbling or appearing extremely nervous or talking more than two sentences without stumbling over myself) although she’ll probably get more confident as the storyline progresses because character development.

Extra facts about Charlie:

She’s based off the characters of Hermione Granger and Percy Jackson with a sprinkle of Chidi from The Good Place and Cather Avery from Fangirl (great book by the way and would 100% recommend)

She’s also heavily based off how I was at age 16 😂

Her full name is Charlotte Willow Ophelia Finch (although I’m keeping her middle names a secret from the rest of the group as she’s extraordinarily embarrassed about the Ophelia part of her name)

She sounds like Emma Watson.

she has a small group of friends from school (like 1 or 2) but that’s it.

Her special weapon is a Scythe (that may or may not be magical, I haven’t decided on the specifics yet). This came about because I was watching Adventure Zone: Balance arc videos on YouTube and I love Kravitz (my favourite NPC from that arc although Angus is a very close second) and I thought hey, I want to play a character with a Scythe so I gave her a Scythe.

I don’t know how she got said Scythe yet, I think that’s going to be told during the MOW campaign storyline.

She found out about her fate through vision and nightmares, and her heroic tags tied to her fate are ‘true love’ (totally a 16 year old priority 😂) and ‘a normal life’ and her doom tags are ‘you can’t save everyone’ and ‘no normal life’

She doesn’t know monsters exist or that she is the chosen one.

She has a typical teen relationship with her mum but it is a little more strained after she finds out her mum is lying to her.

Her childhood hero is her dad

My cousin’s unnamed character (who’s a vampire witch btw I forgot to mention that part 😂) is going to be the mentor figure and probable mother-figure to Charlie.

She will really want to find her dad if she ever finds out the truth about his disappearance and assumed murder.

Depending on which part of London the campaign is set, she probably moved house at some point, most likely after her dad’s ‘death’ (unless it is actually set in Greenwich in which case she didn’t but I don’t know because our Keeper is obviously keeping all the details to himself before we start playing)

The details to her backstory might have to change depending on what our keeper allows but I like creating detailed backstories anyway.

[melody-of-scream]

Describe your OCs badly ~

I consider myself tagged by the most lovely @myriadimagines but because I have a ton of OCs I just offer a “most important”-selection. And I really hope I described them bad enough... which was kind of hard btw.

Guinevere [Kingsman]: Head of the Kingsman’s intelligence and information gathering unit. Yet never seems to get the information that someone tries to take down the organisation she is part of in time. Loyal to the bone despite being betrayed over and over again. Also tends to have a knack to avoid the wrong places at the right time – survivor’s guilt light. Whenever someone dies she gets drunk on expensive scotch and gorges herself on cheap pasta.

Skadi [Avengers/Thor]: Goddess of winter/hunting/skiing. Jotun and in the past Loki’s affair which is mythologically canon, I wouldn’t have done that to her otherwise… regrets barely anything in her life more than that. Fled to earth because Asgardians are shitty. Realised that humans are shitty too and did hide away in a mountain cottage for years. Finally got recruited by S.H.I.E.L.D. and had to learn to trust. Still pretty damaged but powerful and the best summer addition the Avengers could ask for.

Damian [Defenders]: Bi drunkard on duty. No one can drink Jessica Jones under the table, but he sure tried. Charming habitual liar, devil with a silver tongue, flirt. No super powers, moral grey area guy. The death always on his heels due to a bad heart condition. Smokes nevertheless. Feels like being a good guy now after meeting the Defenders. Loves women who could kick his ass and the Defenders are aquaintances with a lof of those. Surprisingly loyal with an interessting singing voice.

Blueprint [X-Men]: Technopath. Born in post-war Eastern-Germany. Little X-Men antagonist in training. Minor. Bad example. Looks like an angel but is Professor X’s little nightmare. Nearly caught feelings while spying on the institute + pretending to befriend Peter. Kind of runs a shelter in an abandoned church and later abandoned warehouse for all the mutant kids too hurt and angry to bow to the institute’s rules. Humans only ever tried to take advantage of her – she gives no f***s about them.

Gust [DC]: Middleclass girl turned thief then criminal on a whim or mood. But later learned that going back to being good is hard. Tried and failed, now thinks it’s her fate to never escape being a low life and tries to accept that. Broken faith, broken heart. Past lover of a hero but things went wrong. Metahuman, wind manipulator and knives wielder of half-Iranian descent. Associate of the Gotham City Sirens. A thousand first names. But hates to be called any of them, especially by the first one of them - Ophelia.  

Lou [DC]: Lucius Kadin Perez Bowman. Has a huge, very colourful and loving family. Except that his mother is dead and he doesn’t know who his father is. Wants to study music. Sweetheart but can mind-control people with his voice and every word. People expect him to turn into a criminal – he’d rather die but they don’t believe in him and his impulse control. Magnet of bad luck. Found solace and friends among criminals. Self-fulfilling prophecy? Nah not with him.

[pacman-tattoo]

I would really appreciate it if you did head canons if Jeremy was your older siblings! Thanks! >3

omg this is a cute idea aaa

aLSO THIS IS GONNA BE LONG BC I RAMBLE

alright u know what this is going under a readmore because this is basically me inserting reader into bmc as jeremy’s younger sibling plus some headcanons sprinkled in

(as i near the end of the musical all i can say is i aaaaaam sorry. there’s so much but i got carried away with rambling about you getting pissed over the SQUIP and just wanting your brother back in the end)

(i pROMISE IF ANYONE ELSE SENDS A “hey what if michael was ur big brother” OR ANYTHING IT WONT BE THIS LONG)

(y’all this got to the point where i might as well write this and i might if anyone requests it. it might not be soon since i got other requests i should be paying attention to but i’ll do it)

so i imagine ur like, a year younger than jeremy so ur a sophomore for this

good times except not, school sucks

you two def play video games a lot like it just comes with jeremy in general

im gonna go ahead and get it out of the way: jeremy and you are extremely close, especially after your mom left….

sometimes you would wander to his room and you two would just end up talking for a bit

“jer?” “yeah?”

“i’m… worried about dad.”

as you two got older these talks became less frequent

that’s all im gonna say because i’m not really the best person for the topic but you two are really close.

you kinda worry about jeremy a lot??? like, you asked him about going out with his friends and he kinda shut up and then mentioned michael was coming over and you kinda realized jeremy doesn’t really… have friends…..

but honestly??? the two of you are supportive of each other no matter what

you complain about school together. it’s a good thing to bond over.

especially because jeremy had some of the same teachers as you did so he just knows what you’re going through when it comes to really specific things

sometimes you eat lunch with him!!! like you have your own friends but you’re like ‘cmon he’s my big brother n he only ever sits with michael, i should at least talk to him some’

they kinda get it since ur brother is a neeeerd

plus you don’t always eat lunch with him so it’s not like you’re constantly abandoning them or something

“you’re signing up for the play?” “yeah, why?” “is it because of christiiiiine?” “shut up”

you 100% know about his crush on christine and honestly, can you blame him? she’s an angel

you end up tagging along with him and michael to the mall for the… squick??? whatever, dude.

“alright, jer, but hear me out: do you really need some pill to be cool? you’re cool enough as is” “ur… literally just saying that bc ur my younger sibling” “shut up dude ur the coolest big brother”

no point in fighting him since he’s gonna do it anyway. michael’s going to spencers??? there’s a gamestop nearby so yolo might as well walk with him

(also yes i 100% found the website for that mall and looked up a map so get an idea of how this whole scene goes???)

u leave gamestop, maybe after buying some merch because video games??? expensive. too expensive.

maybe one day.

where the fuck is jeremy.

michael has to go so either you gotta go with him or go find jeremy and you ultimately go looking for jeremy since he’s ur brother, what else are you gonna do?

jeremy is… weird.

you don’t question it at first bc he’s probably upset but whatever

at some point during school michael approaches you… alone???

“dude where’s jeremy”

“that’s… what i came to ask you about???”

you’ll beat up jeremy later like what the fuck, michael might as well be ur brother-in-law because they might as well be married

you end up going home alone

i like to imagine ur also friends with michael because of jeremy and sometimes he texts you when he can’t get ahold of jeremy so you can go tell jeremy to stop doing whatever and talk to his friend about whatever

so you just get a text from michael like ‘what the fuck is up with your brother’

squipped!jeremy kinda starts ignoring you and telling you off??? what the fuck jeremy???

“jeremy if being cool means you’re going to be an asshole, then maybe you shouldn’t be cool”

you two fight??? and like, the two of you rarely have a serious fight but it ends in you slamming your bedroom door and your dad gets worried and tries to talk to you but you kinda end up shutting him out as well

you feel bad about it but you just want to be alone

fast forward to halloween eve (which you’ve kinda abandoned your friends for sitting with michael?? they’re pissed and they aren’t talking to you but you couldn’t care less, michael needs someone)

jeremy comes downstairs and ur sitting on the couch, alone for once

“halloween party?”

he’s… kinda caught off guard?

like you two don’t really talk after you fight until one apologizes.

“be careful.”

he just stares at you.

“hey, uh, [y/n],” and he just kinda stares at you before he jerks slightly, as if… someone shocked him? “don’t wait up.”

you nearly get pissed before deciding fuck it, discount halloween candy awaits you after halloween-

… jeremy and you always get discount halloween candy. the two of you always would go to the store and roam around the aisles finding the Good Shit and then you two would go home and eat until you were sick but it was great because, yeah, you feel like shit afterwards but sibling bonding, man.

it isn’t the same. it just isn’t the same by yourself.

you end up staying up late anyway. jeremy might be an asshole now, but he’s still you’re brother. you might as well stay up and make sure he at least makes it inside.

you fall asleep watching a movie before you know he’s home.

but you do wake up when your phone keeps buzzing

it’s michael. he’s asking about jeremy and before you can even respond he’s calling you and jake dillinger’s house burned down??

jeremy is fine, physically at least, but now he’s just straight up ignoring you.

can i mention your dad is getting worried? you two were close.

hey, remember rich? the guy who recommended the SQUIP to jeremy? you talked to him. he’s genuinely upset by the way.

you also learn a lot. about the SQUIP, at least.

its the night of the play and your sitting and talking to your dad and basically rambling about jeremy without giving details

and then there’s jeremy.

you take your dad’s side for once, and jeremy fucking yells at you about it.

“you were supposed to support me, i’m your brother! we’re family-”

“not anymore, jeremy - you’re not my brother because my brother wouldn’t treat his friends and family like shit!”

he gets pissed at you and your dad tries to defend you and then he says shit to your dad

you straight up punch jeremy for that shit. you hit harder than he’d think.

after the play you basically live at the hospital waiting for jeremy to wake up

the moment he wakes up your at his side like “is it gone?? please tell me it’s gone, jeremy, fuck, please tell me i have my brother back.”

(you kinda freeze because you forgot rich was there???)

he… kinda sees how much he hurt you for the first time. it’s a really shitty moment. michael pops in and you just kinda excuse yourself for a few minutes and wander away for a few minutes

there’s still a lot of strain on ur relationship??? like, you aren’t just happy siblings anymore who fight over little shit and scream at the other when they cheat at video games or complain about homework and teachers. 

he and christine eventually date a little??? you’re happy for him but at the same time it just kinda… bothers you. sometimes he gushes about her and how she’s so sweet but it just kinda makes you sick because of all the shit that everyone just went through…

heck, jeremy notices that you’re… really, really off. he misses being able to sit back and laugh with his little sibling??? he misses being able to just be a complete dork around you.

one day you’re having a really shitty day and you’re sitting at the kitchen table burying yourself in homework and you just hear the rustling of a wrapper and he sets down ur fave candy in front of you

“look, i know i was an asshole and the worst big brother, but just… i’m sorry.”

it’s not enough, but it’s a start.

one night you wake up from a nightmare that everyone??? was squipped again??? you go downstairs and there’s jeremy, standing in front of the fridge, just staring

you wander over and peek in and he’s just… staring at a bottle of mtn dew red. at least, he was until you stepped behind him. he quickly shuts the fridge and immediately asks why you’re awake because??? it’s 3 am????

for the first time in a while you two confide in each other. 

“i… really did a lot of shit, didn’t i?” “yeah. i mean, it’s not all your fault - rich said the SQUIP made him do a lot of shit too.” “yeah but still, i did it-”

it takes a while but eventually you two get to be back to the sibling bond you two had - even if there is a little bit of strain

alright that’s a lot of shit of just reliving the musical so i’ll throw in some headcanons rly quick:

there’s always a constant bicker over small shit. “JEREMY ATE ALL THE CHIPS” “[Y/N] FINISHED THE LEFTOVERS” “kids please stop yelling” “JEREMY STARTED IT”

y’know how siblings can be embarrassing? never a problem with you two. the reason? both of you have plenty of embarrassing stories about each other and no one else will ever hear them

the closest it’s ever come is when you kinda just popped into jeremy’s room while he was playing video games with michael and nearly spilled a story about jeremy before u got a quick jab in the side

“nO NO [Y/N] GO ON” “[y/n] i swear i will tell him about the time-” “michael i value my life so…”

michael still wants to know about the time at the amusement park.

he’ll never get to know. not from you, at least.

BTW THE TWO OF YOU??? POKEMON GO

YOU HUNT.

YOU  G O 

michael joins but sometimes it’s just “no sibling bonding time we gotta”

alright i’m done sorry if shit is ooc i spent over 3 hours on this

[soul-forged]

FF XV: Home is such a lonely place (Prompto x Noctis)

Rating: G

Summary: Set after the Final Fantasy XV main story. Five years after Noctis has given his life to save Eos, Prompto has given up on photography and talking to his old friends. His flat in Lestallum just does not feel like home. Nowhere does anymore.A small fic about how Prompto might fare after losing his best friend.

Repost?: Y, from here. That’s me btw. :D

Warnings: Hurt no comfort, depression, anxiety, sadness, spoiler alert!

Author’s notes: So yeah, I finished FF XV and it totally broke me, my heart, my head. I still cannot listen to the songs (but they are awesome and sometimes I have to and then I have to cry again). So I wrote this to deal with my sadness. It kinda helped, even though I will never be able to reread the story again because well. Sad... Heed the tags and warnings please. This is very sad and depressive and full of endgame spoilers! If you cannot deal with that, please do not read this! I don’t want anybody to feel really bad because of something I wrote to get it off my chest :( Anybody else. Please enjoy <3

*

We're falling faster than we can fly Forgotten seconds out on Sunset Drive And I hold on tight But not enough to hold you back It feels like the moon Is spinning off into outer space without you This room is such a lonely place without you

*

   Blink 182 – Home is such a lonely place  

The lock echoed loudly into the vast space of his flat, when Prompto closed the door behind him. It had been late evening, when he had reached Lestallum. Now, after turning in some beast hunts and doing some last-minute shopping, dusk had fallen over the lands. By no means did the darkness of night still mean the same doom and fear as before, but it still gave the blonde the chills being outside after nightfall, even after all this time.

The groceries lay forgotten in the kitchen, while he stared mindlessly out of the living room window. It was snowing. A rare occasion in Lestallum, where the sun burned hot in summer and the air rarely cooled enough for ice or snow. It was an unexpectedly cold winter. The skies had been shrouded in gloomy greys all day, never once opening up and letting some sunshine through. As the snow fell, Prompto felt that a day without sunshine was a small price to pay for such a view. His fingers instinctively itched for his camera, his mind already imagining the perfect setup, and lightning, and angle, the perfect vantage point, and lens, and… He swallowed, blinking rapidly to dissipate the feeling of tightness that had built behind his eyeballs and deep inside his chest.

Prompto did not take pictures anymore, not ever since that fateful day five years ago. He had developed all the pictures, only to put them neatly into a box that, alongside his camera, lenses, and other equipment, was now hidden away in the very back of his bedroom wardrobe, behind his clothes, shoes, blankets, and spare jackets. He had tried the same with the memories in his head. It worked; he got by, took some jobs, travelled around, visited old friends and made new ones. He had even gotten a flat in Lestallum, mostly because Iris had been insisting rather vigorously. “You need a place to come home to.” she had said, “A place to give you refuge from your travels.”

He had followed her advice, had rented a small flat near Lestallum’s main road, top floor, with a great view of the Disk of Cauthess from the living room and bedroom windows. Those shutters were always closed, even when he was home, which did not happen all that regularly. At least Iris seemed a little more content now and if it put her mind at ease, he would do much more than just this.

Prompto turned away from the window and drew the shutters. Darkness fell over the entire flat and it made his heart clench and race and his brow sweat like he was thrown fifteen years back in time, back to Gralea and to Ardyn and to torture, but also to Noctis and Gladio and Ignis. The thoughts only made his heart clench even harder.

Three quick strides carried him through the room and he hit the switch with more force than intended. The light flickered on, chasing away the darkness into the corners of his room and mind. Prompto could suddenly breathe easier again and a shiver of gratitude and relief slowly trickled down his back. All of this was so familiar, never once changing throughout the last five years, even the ten years before that, yet it still overwhelmed him like a bucket of ice cold water over the head. How much he missed it all: his photography, the road trips, the easy chatter, the carelessness, the wind in his hair, the smell of Ignis’s cooking, the banter with Gladio, sleeping on the ground in a too small tent, fighting and winning with those fights, chocobo riding, Noct’s voice, Noct’s laughter, Noct’s relaxed face when he slept or his pouty one when things did not go his way. He missed his friends, the best and the worst of them and while he could still visit Ignis and Gladio in Insomnia if he wanted, he never did. It was simply not the same.

Noctis had been the glue to keep them together and Prompto still remembered the look of astonishment on the other’s face when he noticed that in the very end, after ten years of absence in Gods knew where, after ten years of believing him gone or dead or worse. Prompto had seen enough sorrow and gruesome horror to last a lifetime. The sight of Ravus Nox Fleuret’s twisted body and anguished cries still gave him nightmares.

When Noctis had disappeared into the Crystal fifteen years ago, the group had all but crumbled as had the world around them. He had been in a bad place throughout those ten years, a place so black and dark it rivalled daemon-infested, desparing Eos. And when he had returned… Prompto had hoped for the first time in a whole decade, had hoped all would be well because Noctis had done the unthinkable. He had come back, older and more serious, a little weary, but still Noctis. The blonde had held on to that hope, the hope of a happily ever after, until the end, until they reached the Citadel and the throne room, until Noctis had asked for his pictures and he had not understood what it meant. Now, he saw it clearly, saw the signs, and noticed that there had never been any hope, it had all been wishful thinking. His own naïve mind tricking him into holding on to something that could and would never happen. Because the world was a cruel place, because there was no saving the world without sacrificing your own damn life, because Noctis’s legacy could be nothing but cruel and heart-breaking and sad.

The soft sound of falling drops of water broke his reverie and Prompto blinked. His eyes, his head, and his throat hurt. He breathed in deeply and his breathing hitched several times, a broken rasp and shuddery sigh. In and out like he had done so often before. He had cried enough to last a lifetime as well, had even thought that there were no tears left to spill over fading memories of laughter and smiles and happiness and carelessness. There were, apparently. Perhaps there would always be.

Brushing the tears away with the sleeves of his shirt, Prompto left the living room and headed for the kitchen to put away the groceries that were still sitting on the kitchen table.

All was deadly silent. The only sounds in the flat were his own rummaging through the fridge and freezers, the low hum of the electronics, and the wind that rattled the shutters fiercly. He idly wondered how much snow would still be left tomorrow. He was keen to leave Lestallum fast again, as he already felt the weight of its memories haunting and torturing him. Perhaps he could accept some bounty further north near the Vesperpool. Or further south. Or east or west, he did not care. Just something to take his mind off… this. This flat, this city, this region, this weather, this life, this whole goddamn existence.

His fist hit the closed fridge hard, pain radiating from his knuckles to his fingers and to his whole right arm. It was so unfair. How could the Gods call themselves gods if they needed Noctis to sacrifice himself for them? How come they needed him to die so the Starscourge, the illness they had created, could be defeated? Why him?

Prompto had grown bitter and resentful of every little thing related to prophecies or the Six, the true king or fairy tale stories of how heroically he had saved Eos. There was nothing bright, beautiful, or heroic about Noctis’s story. The months between the fall of Insomnia and their travels to Gralea, as well as the liberation of the capital and the defeat of Ardyn ten years later, had been laced with death, loss, tears, and tragedy. They had laughed, joked, bantered to forget the weight upon their shoulders, especially Noct’s. They had always been looking back, back to the time when the king had seen them off on a road trip to find Noctis’s fiancée and childhood friend Lunafreya. It had been supposed to be an adventure, just them on the road, just bros travelling the continent to marry their prince off in the name of peace.

Prompto saw now that it had never been Noctis’s choice, nothing at all. Everything had been dumped onto him: his fate as the King of Kings, his legacy as a prince of Lucis, his marriage to Lunafreya as an attempt to bring peace where it was doomed to wither. It was easy to utter empty words such as duty or honour or destiny in the face of a young soul that knew nothing else. No one should be forced to meet all those expectations, yet somehow Noctis had. He had taken all those things, and while he had struggled, he had managed them. He had played his part, done his duty, protected the planet, only to give his life and never get to see the happy ending.

Nothing hurt Prompto more than the memories of the last moment they had all shared. The bonfire was still burning brightly behind his closed lids, every night, like a song on replay. He still felt its warmth, even though the situation made him feel cold like Shiva’s breath. Noctis being himself, bad at expressing what was important to him, lost for words and something to hang on to because there was nothing he could say or do to make any of them feel better.

“You are the best.”

The words still lingered, still stabbed, still hurt. Like fresh salt in a festering, deep wound. They were nothing compared to Noctis, who had sacrificed everything for a world that had given him nothing but sorrow. From the death of his mother, the invasion of Tenebrae, to the death of his father, his fiancé Lunafreya in front of his very own eyes, and to his struggle against Ardyn.

Prompto unclenched his aching fists and relaxed his cramped jaw. This was why he did not return to Lestallum more often than he did now. It made him think, where hunting and travelling and danger made him forget. Iris worried he was working himself to death if he did not return, Prompto was more worried that he was thinking himself to death if he did. His mind had never been the safest place given all the horrors of his childhood. Now, it was simply a minefield, waiting to explode right into his face in a colourful burst of memories that hurt so endlessly deep because they reminded him of how he was still here and Noctis was not.

Since he was gone, Prompto felt like his heart and soul had been shot to a million little pieces and blown away by a harsh breeze. Nothing sat right with him anymore. The cities were too crowded but his flat too empty, he longed for company but shied from it, he hated killing but enjoyed it when it made him forget.

When he had come to Insomnia as a refugee all those years ago, he had felt a similar ache. A vacant place in his heart that needed to be filled. The house, where he had stayed, had never felt like home, but that was what he had longed for most. After meeting Noctis, and through him Gladio and Ignis, that yawning void had slowly been closed by good memories, by emotions and little nothings that had meant the world to him. By taking him in and accepting him, putting up with his insecurities and mess ups, they had rescued Prompto from himself and he knew, he appreciated. He always felt like he had never expressed that adequately because he was bad with words.

Now that Noctis was gone, gone for good, the flat, where he stayed, never felt like the hotel rooms or campsites of fifteen years ago. He had lost his home once again and he was reeling from the thought that there was no way to ever get it back. This home, this whole universe felt like such a lonely place, when he could not share it with Noctis. But Prompto was used to loneliness. He had just forgotten that he was. He had lived a dream, wondrous and full of hopes and kindness, and when he had been forced to wake up, he longed to live it again, longed for another moment shared between friends around a bonfire in the dead of the night, pretending there was nothing but this moment right here. He just wished he had known when he had lived it and could have experienced it more, longer, drawn it out and captured every tiny moment of it. It was not possible, however. The world was saved and kept on turning. People came and went, legends were born and died, history was written, life continued. And Prompto went along: he ate, he slept, he hunted, he earned money and payed the rent, he socialised sometimes, he watched the sun rise and set, he looked at old pictures and cried.

And he would do so until there was nothing left to push him forth, until the end of his days. Because he owed Noctis like he owed nobody else. And if not for him, he had not survived this world as long as he had done. He lived this life for Noctis as well now because he could only watch from the sidelines. Prompto just hoped he had found his peace for if anybody deserved it, it was the King of Kings, the hero of their story.

[chrisstevenson]

First Nations Tribes Matter Too.

After spellbinding the readers by his fabulous imagination in Screamcatcher: Web World, Chris Stevenson, who writes this series by a pen name (Christy J. Breedlove), released the second book of the Scremcatcher series, Screamcatcher – Dream Chasers. Both the books of the Screamcatcher series have created an alternate world that leaves the characters and the readers gasping for air. So, when I got a chance to pick the brains of the very talented Chris Stevenson, I knew it was an opportunity of a lifetime. Join the conversation and get ready to be amazed.

Screamcatcher is one of my favorite series. Nobody could have ever imagined using an innocent-looking dream-catcher as a source of unleashing havoc. How did you come up with this idea? Any interesting story behind the making of this mind-blowing series.

It all started with a dream catcher. This iconic item, which is rightfully ingrained in Indian lore, is a dream symbol respected by the culture that created it. It is mystifying, an enigma that that prods the imagination. Legends about the dream catcher are passed down from multiple tribes. There are variations, but the one fact that can be agreed upon is that it is a nightmare entrapment device, designed to sift through evil thoughts and images and only allow pleasant and peaceful dreams to enter into the consciousness of the sleeper.

I wondered what would happen to a very ancient dream catcher that was topped off with dreams and nightmares. What if the nightmares became too sick or deathly? What if the web strings could not hold any more visions? Would the dream catcher melt, burst, vanish, implode? I reasoned that something would have to give if too much evil was allowed to congregate inside of its structure. I found nothing on the Internet that offered a solution to this problem—I might have missed a relevant story, but nothing stood out to me. Stephen King had a story called Dream Catcher, but I found nothing in it that was similar to what I had in mind. So I took it upon myself to answer such a burning question.

Like too much death on a battlefield could inundate the immediate location with lost and angry spirits, so could a dream catcher hold no more of its fill of sheer terror without morphing into something else, or opening up a lost and forbidden existence. What would it be like to be caught up in another world inside the webs of a dream catcher, and how would you get out? What would this world look like? How could it be navigated? What was the source of the exit, and what was inside of it that threatened your existence? Screamcatcher: Web World, the first in the series, was my answer. I can only hope that I have done it justice.

Your knowledge of Native American Indian culture is evident in many instances. I am sure the readers would love to know more about the subject. How do you know so much about the culture? Is it personal experience or an inclination toward the culture?

It’s primarily researched, and not very much. I’ve always known about the emotional feelings that the First Nations Tribes has/had about their plight and contact with the white man. I knew about their reverent association with nature and the environment. I owe a lot of it to memories from the Boy Scouts of America–about signs, riddles, plants, hunting, and the environment. I’m Scotch/Irish and I’ve never had any tribal friends.

I DID research the construction of the Dream Catcher and what it was made out of. I winged the rest of it, hoping that I was at least on target with what I had to say about them. The Albert White Feather Pike speech at the beginning of the book (about the sad state of the world) were my words straight from my heart. Nothing was quoted. I did not want to ram Indian lore, heritage, and legend down the throat of the reader. There’s just enough to make it sympathetic and interesting.

While we are talking about Native American culture, do you have a favorite legend from any of their mythologies?

Obviously, the Dream Catcher Legend. It was just fascinating to me, filled with whimsy and magic. And the hand-crafted charms are so varied from one type to another; they are just gorgeous works of art, and I mean that by saying the originals that were crafted in the very beginning with gems, beads, and real Eagle feathers. And I’ll be honest, I have NO idea how far the Dream Catcher legend goes back in time. I’m also intrigued by the sweat lodge, and how it is supposed to purify the soul. The legend of the Skinwalker scares me, and I touch upon that just a tiny bit in the last book, Screamcatcher: The Shimmering Eye.

You can remove this question if you do not wish to discuss your pen name This one is for budding authors. Many of the first time authors struggle with the idea of using a pen name. While a majority considers using one only if they are writing a memoir and do not wish to be identified, a few others wish to use one to avoid prejudices based on gender or nationality. Regardless of their reasons, what is your opinion on using a pen name? Is there a formal procedure involved in registering a pen name against your legal name?

I’m a guy and I used a female pen name for my young adult books. I know, pretty strange. Why? Women, I believe, are more prone to writing about true emotions, with truth and accuracy, than men. Especially in romance and young adult, where sometimes a softer touch is needed. Women comprise 65% of all book purchases and they are also the majority of readers. Truly, women are more apt to buy a romance or young adult novel from a woman, in my experience. So I thought that if the “general reading public” saw a female pen name, they might make a spontaneous buy and trust the material. But I always admitted everywhere that the two authors were one and the same–Me. My fans, friends, and readership knew that.

The problem with adopting a pen name is that you have a brand new author out there making a debut, so it is hugely difficult to build a readership in that pen name. No legal problems, not even in contracts. But I must say that two author names have to be merged into one in places like Amazon, GoodReads, and other sites–it gets really tangled and confusing. For budding writers? If you are publishing 10 or more books per year and one genre is romance and the other is science fiction, then two authors just might work. It also depends on how many genres you write in and how many books you have out there. My advice is to go with one name–keep it simple just starting out.

Did you always want to be an author? How did you get into it?

I actually started late, reading, and writing when I was 26 years old. My early writing accomplishment were multiple hits within a few years: In my first year of writing back in 1987, I wrote three SF short stories that were accepted by major slick magazines which qualified me for the Science Fiction Writers of America, and at the same time achieved a Finalist award in the L. Ron Hubbard Writers of the Future Contest. This recognition garnered me a top gun SF agent at the time, Richard Curtis Associates. My first novel went to John Badham (Director) and the Producers, the Cohen Brothers. It was an extreme honor to be considered. The writer who beat me out of contention for a feature movie (as well as the book), was Michael Crichton’snJurassic Park. My book was called Dinothon.

A year after that I published two best-selling non-fiction books and landed on radio, TV, in every library in the U.S., and hundreds of newspapers. This was at a time when small and mid-sized press paid nice advances and had unlimited distribution.

I have been trying to catch that lightning in a bottle ever since. My YA dystopian novel, The Girl They Sold to the Moon won the grand prize in a publisher’s YA novel writing contest, went to a small auction, and got tagged for a film option. My latest release, Screamcatcher: Web World, just currently won Best YA title of 2019 in the N.N. Light Book Awards contest. I have 13 titles appearing on Amazon, with three more slated for publication. I guess I should stick to Young Adult, which I do love BTW

I have picked out your next book Earth Angel, and I am pretty excited about reading it. Would you like to share anything about the book: plot, character, inspiration?

Not much to tell really, and it’s not terribly original, but I’m guessing at that. I just wondered what would happen if a person had an eye transplant, and that eye came from a gifted medium who really saw a fourth dimension or alternate world through her vision? If that transplanted eye allowed you to see a different world, what in the heck could you possibly see and how would it affect you emotionally? You would either have a superpower, or you would end up going insane. How could a power like that possibly help you in catching a serial killer? Those were the questions I asked. Hey, glad you are looking forward to it!

Who is your favorite character in Screamcatcher series? Did any real-life person inspire this particular character?

My favorite character, modeled in name and personality after my sister, Jory Post, is Jory Pike. Jory Pike’s physical attributes are modeled after my last girlfriend in Las Vegas. I had many reviewers and some beta readers tell me, “Hey! You have Katniss here, in The Hunger Games!” I did not know who they were talking about until I just recently read the THG series. Then I thought, OMG! My girl is Katness!

And to top it off, I wrote my book before The Hunger Games came out, but mine was not published before hers. My gal IS native American, though. And I’m proud that the female side of me came out with an Indian teenage girl who takes the lead in a portal fantasy thriller. Rarely, if ever, do you see teenage, female North American Indians in a book, especially in the lead role. Talk about POC (people of color), well, I thought I’d give it to them in spades.

May we get a sneak peek into your next WIP?

The third and last book in the Screamcatcher series (The Shimmering Eye) is modeled after the true story of the most haunted property in the United States–Skinwalker Ranch. I devised my own version of the paranormal activity out there, and even contacted George Knapp, an investigative reporter out of Las Vegas, and host of Coast to Coast radio. I asked his permission to write my own fictional account of such a place, without busting his copyright or anything else. He is the documentary narrator and book author of The Hunt for the Skinwalker. George gave me the thumbs up and wished me well. So I tossed my teenage Badlands Paranormal Society into the ranch and brought hell and damnation down on them. The third book in the Screamcatcher series will be out sometime this summer.

Thank you so much for answering the questions. Can’t wait to see more of your work soon!

More places where you can find Chris Stevenson:

Amazon Page:  https://www.amazon.com/Chris-Harold-Stevenson/e/B001K8UUBK

Christy’s Website:  https://christysyoungadultfabuliers.com/

Blog:  http://guerrillawarfareforwriters.blogspot.com/