#the second I saw your url I recognised

[smolldust]

ohh new pfp! you can't do this to me, i almost didn't recognise u D: (/j it looks good hehe)

yeah new pfp lol! I saw shiver in the new Splatfest art and she looked so silly I wanted to make a new pfp lol

also you jumpscared me earlier with your url change /j. I thought your account was deleted for a second and I was so sad but you’re not gone which is awesome!!

[softquietsteadylove]

omg hello i am literally obsessed with your work on ao3 and i had no idea you take TUMBLR PROMPTS??? this is the best discovery of my life i'm so THRILLED!! may i possibly request more from the spies AU? i just read it and it was SO GOOD, and i would love to see gil & thena put in more situations where they have to save and look out for each other as they do! thank you and again, thank you for your lovely writing!

"Thena, how's it going?"

"I'm working on it," she muttered, knowing her mic would pick it up. "What does it look like out there?"

"Boring without you."

She could imagine the little smile on his face as he said it, although her eye on him via security cameras did nothing to bring out his handsome features. She moved her eyes back to the main screen, searching through emails for the intel they needed. AI could only get them so far.

"I see her."

Thena watched the monitor as their target approached. The wife of a very rich, very connected, very not-law-abiding citizen who was profiting off of all the art present at the auction--real and fake alike. "That's your cue, tiger."

"Come on, you know I'm terrible at this."

"You better not be--it's your job," Thena let her smile leak into her voice as she continued her work. And she knew it wasn't true, either; Gilgamesh was much more charming than he thought he was.

Sometimes he was a little too charming.

"Let me," Gil said quietly as he retrieved a sparkling glass of champagne for the lady.

Thena listened to the small talk - the flirting - over their open channel. She resisted the urge to roll her eyes as Gil flattered the woman shamelessly. But the target drank it up, taking every shiny little compliment and batting her eyes in response.

"Are you here to buy one of the works of art?" the target asked between sips.

Gil took a pause, and Thena knew what he was doing. He was looking down at his feet, then up, raising a cool brow; "I see only one masterpiece worth anything right in front of me."

Thena did roll her eyes at that. "That was terrible."

"Mister Lee!" the target laughed, and Thena watched the visual of her give him a playful shove. It was a little more friendly than playful. And it wasn't a shove, so much as she put her hand right on his chest. And it stayed there.

"Rein it in, Gil." She didn't expect an answer, and obviously he couldn't respond to her with the target present. But she heard him chuckle. He was having a little too much fun with this.

"Although, should I be worried about the masterpiece on your finger?"

A massive diamond, sparkling band, and about as symbolically bloodstained as it got.

"Oh," the target tucked some hair back in a display of shyness. "I...my...we're together in name, I suppose. But my husband could name the inventory number of this diamond before he could remember my middle name."

"What a disservice to such a beautiful woman."

Thena keyed in her commands and watched as the data transfer began. It felt slower than it usually did. "Too much, Gil."

"And what service should a beautiful woman like me have?"

Thena's brows raised. She could respect the target for going after what she wanted. It just wasn't allowed to be Gil.

"How about..." Gil paused, and Thena watched him adjust his stance. She didn't have to be there to know that his hand - hidden by their close stance against the bar - was slipping against hers. It was to extract her room key, but still... "I meet you in ten minutes and show you?"

Thena watched intently. She tapped her finger against the desk with every step the target took towards the elevators. She had to manually switch cameras to follow her, but she felt...compelled. The target stepped on, and as soon as she had a mirror handy she fluffed up her hair and adjusted her dress. Thena switched back to the main ballroom feed.

"Meet you up there?"

Thena couldn't resist a little jab, "don't you have a hot date waiting for you up there? I wouldn't want to interrupt."

"Come on, I got the key, didn't I?" Gil laughed, sounding much more like himself as he loosened his bow tie.

"What a disservice to such a beautiful woman," Thena repeated in a thick, drawling tone.

"Yeah, okay, it was a little much. But it got the job done."

"Toying with the poor woman's heart, Gilgamesh?" Thena let out a faint laugh as the data transfer completed. She stood, "this job has changed you."

"Hey," he snorted before lowering his voice, obviously looking down at his shirt to speak directly into the mic in his collar. "You know you're the only woman for me."

Thena huffed, ignoring the heat flushing her cheeks. "Your little pick up lines won't work on me, you realise."

"I realise," he said as he headed for the elevators. "They're true when they're for you."

"Luckily the target craves flattery like her husband craves money laundering," Thena mused as she also headed to an elevator. A freight elevator, but still. "I'll try not to startle your girlfriend."

Okay, maybe she was laying it on a little thick, now.

But Gil laughed loudly, having the elevator to the lavish suite all to himself. "Hope she doesn't mind I invited my wife."

Thena rolled her eyes, and she was sure he could tell she was smiling despite her exasperation. He was entirely too charming for his own good.

[lothiriel84]

Hi!! I know this is really out of the blue but we used to talk a lot on Twitter - MarsCorp, Infinite Bad, JFSP, all that jazz. You were also the very first person to comment on my very first AO3 fic (The Question under the MarsCorp tag)! I dropped off the internet for a long while and have had a bunch of different blogs in the last few years. And then I saw a fic of yours posted by OFMD AO3 and I was like! Wow! It’s them!! I’m glad to see you still writing! Kinda crazy, saw that and it was like running into an old friend. Anyways, how the hell have you been? I know it’s really out of the blue and you may have zero clue who I am but I just wanted to pop in and say hello! I’m on my main but I’m almost always on my side blog - this ones nature photography and suchlike lol

I totally get you not responding and honestly, no pressure! It just made me happy to see a familiar URL. Anyways, I really hope you’re doing well! Cheers!! 💜💜

Hello!

I'm afraid I don't recognise your URL, but I was wondering if you could possibly remind me of your Twitter handler? (No worries if you'd rather not, of course.)

I'm doing well, thank you, and I hope the same can be said for you. Work has been draining pretty much all of my time and energy, so I hardly ever post anything these days - I've been meaning to blog about my recent trips to Ireland/the UK, for instance, but I reckon it's not going to happen anytime soon - and I must say, it's really nice to dip my toes back into writing after all this time, no matter the actual quality of the fics themselves.

On a related note, it feels so good to have finally found a new fandom/hyperfixation in Our Flag Means Death (to go with my other newly acquired - and completely unrelated - hyperfixation, which is Irish comedy trio Foil Arms and Hog). To think I was about two seconds away from blocking the OFMD tag on here - right before I somehow changed my mind, and decided to see for myself what it was all about. Thank heavens for that.

(I'm not sure what the current etiquette is for answering Tumblr asks, so I hope it's all right for me to make this into a public post. Please give me a shout if you'd rather I deleted this.)

[lan-xichens]

🎨 (latest sets are in the tag mine: tkop, mine: kp)

Oh these were lovely to check! I didn't recognise this new URL of yours but when I dug into your archive and saw this post I realised it's you! So happy you're still giffing 🥰

This is a bit late because I tried to do this on mobile and got stuck but here you go:

I'm immediately drawn to this one and this one: I still want to watch this show, that's one reason! The first one is aesthetically very pleasing; the composition of each gif is great, and the limited colour palette for each gif is gorgeous. Same with the second one really, it's the choice of colours there that makes me go !!

I remember your gifs from your CQL time so well, it's really interesting to see how your style has changed. I feel your gifs were always very smooth and polished and beautifully coloured, and your latest gifs are grittier and show more daring choices!

send me 🎨 & I’ll tell you my favorite of your last ten creations and why

[tumbasenalma]

Vanesa!!!!! The new layout looks so so beautiful omg🥺💚💚 i love that scene from Spirited Away so much the tunnel is no longer the same when they leave and i adore the calming peaceful green so much🖤 hope you are well and taking care. Sending you so much love and happy peaceful vibes 🤍🤍🤍

millieee hiiii, thank you so much, im happy you like it :’)) and yessss same, that shot at the end of the movie always gets to me, it always makes me tear up, i just adore it…and the movie overall, definitely my number one comfort film.

AND YOU CHANGED YOUR LAYOUT AND URL AAAAAAA. i didn’t recognise you for a second when i saw the ask akdjsj, but i love the changes so much!! the url makes me quite emotional, and the gifs in both your icon and the background ALDJSDKSJDKKSDJ it all just looks so beautiful im in love

[abraxos-is-toothless]

Surprises (15)

There are a few of you who have changed urls so please do check previous chapters first if you have!! Lucien is back in this, I had thought he had a part like two chapters ago? But going back I might have deleted his scene😬

Warnings: There will be swearing, mature themes, mentions of alcohol at times, and mentions of sex. I will update warnings as I go if needed.

Surprises Masterlist.

Full Masterlist.

Enjoy a Captain Swan gif because it fits I guess?:)

—————

Everything was white, why the fuck was everything so white?

Azriel felt blinded by being in such a bright room and there was an annoying beeping that he wished would just stop. His whole body ached and he groaned in pain trying to lift his body but then there was a hand gently pushing his shoulder down, and a voice that sounded like goddamn heaven.

“I don’t think so, mister, you keep your butt where it is.” Blinking a few times, he turned his head to the sound of that beautiful voice and saw Elain standing next to him with tears in her eyes. Panic set in at the thought of her being upset and he wanted nothing more than to hold her.

“W-why are you crying baby? What’s wrong?” There was deep laughter from somewhere across the room and a sharp pain shot through his neck with how fast his head moved. Cassian was sitting on a chair in the corner of the room, one arm in a sling and he now had on a pair of shorts which exposed a thigh wrapped in bandages. Nesta was on his other side, holding the hand of his good arm, gently rubbing her thumb back and forth.

“You were just in a major car accident, you expect your girl to be all sunshine and roses about it?”

Fuck the car accident. It all rushed back to him at once, the laughing and pestering and then a shout and finally darkness. Cass had shouted about a truck just as Rhys was-“Oh god. Rhys where is Rhys?”

“He’s alright. He was allowed to go home, so we sent him back with Feyre to rest. They’re both on the way back now.”

He finally forced himself to sit up, hating the way Elain’s eyes went wide in fear and so he took her hand and squeezed to let her know it was alright, but as his legs shifted, that’s when he felt it. All of the breaths in his lungs left him in one go, and he knew something bad when all of the eyes in the room watched him, so full of pain. Azriel closed his eyes once more as he gripped hid blankets tightly in a fist before flinging them away from him. All he did was stare and stare at that empty space where his lower left leg should be, before finally reaching for it with a hand, letting out a sound that was foreign to his ears. He vaguely recognised the shuffling of chairs and the click of a door as a small gentle hand covered his own. When he turned back to Elain, her lips were curved in a soft and slightly pained smile, pain for him.

“What happened to my leg Ellie?” He said it as a whisper because that’s all he could manage, scared that if he tried to say it louder, say something more, then he’d break down but he was determined not to look weak in her eyes. Her free hand came up and into his hair, nails scratching at his scalp that felt oh so good and comforting.

“The car overturned from the impact and crushed the front of the car. Rhys and Cass managed to get out and they tried to get to you as well but they couldn’t. Your leg had been crushed for too long, the doctors told your mom that there was nothing they could do, other than remove it.” Her hand in his hair never stopped once and for that he was grateful, because no, matter how hard he tried to stop himself, he broke right then and there in that hospital room.

“How can you still stand there and look at me like that? I’m missing a fucking leg Elain, I’m not me anymore. I won’t be able to do certain things anymore and hell, what the fuck is our little girl going to do when she asks daddy to do something and I can’t do it! I didn’t want this life for us! Now you’re going to be stuck with a cripple and a baby, I won’t put you through that.”

Azriel watched as her face turned from gentle and soothing to angry and hateful in a second, taking her hands off and away from him and stepping back from his bedside.

“Screw you, you fucking asshole. How dare you make up my own mind for me? How dare you think that I wouldn’t love you anymore because of how you look? If you don’t want me anymore then fine, I’ll save you the hassle of trying to end it.” No, no, no. Shit, fuck.

“Ellie...” He tried to say something, anything, but the words got stuck in his throat and so he had to watch as she stormed to the door of his hospital room without even looking back. He’d heard the sound of the door clicking earlier but now, now it was an awful sound and he never wanted to hear it again. It was like a dagger to the heart and he fucking hated himself. The best thing to ever happen to him and he blew it, just like he knew he would. He promised he wouldn’t hurt her again, promised her that he’d try harder, that no matter what he’d stay by her side.

Now all there was to do was sit there and wallow in his own self pity, knowing he’d most likely not be able to win her back this time.

oOoOo

Sitting in that waiting room, Cassian had given his story of the crash to the cops, every last detail that he could think of, everything that might be useful. And then it was Rhys’ turn. Nesta, Feyre and himself sat there and listened, Feyre moving straight to Nesta once he had started. He hadn’t a clue why she looked as worried as she did so until he’d heard Rhys’ story. Even now just as his brother was giving the last few key points, he was still in shock. Weylan Archeron, his girlfriend’s fucking father, was the one that had run them off of the road. Nesta had retreated inside herself when she’d heard it, that blank look taking over her face. It had taken him so long to find her under that prickly exterior and he’d be damned if he let her asshole father destroy how far she had managed to come.

The cops were just shaking hands and thanking them for their help when the door to Azriel’s room opened and Elain came storming out, tears streaming down her cheeks and her hand cradling that wonderful little baby bump. Cassian watched as Nesta’s face went from blank to furious and she made to go either after her sister or into his brother’s room to unleash hell, but he put his hand on her arm to stop her. “Easy sweetheart, I’ve got this one.”

He stood on shaky legs and limped down the hall that Elain had run down, asking a few nurses if they had seen where she went and ended up outside where the girl was sitting on a wall with her hands covering her face. Her body shook with barely restrained sobs and she jumped when he sat beside her, bringing his hand over to rub her back. “Hey, what are all these tears for Lainy? Az is alright, you saw him.” She scoffed at that and gave a humourless laugh. Looks like his brother might have been an utter fucking idiot.

“He may be alright but according to him, he’s not good enough now. According to him, I couldn’t possibly want him anymore now that he’s like that. He assumed Cass, that I’m that much of a bitch, that I only like him for his looks. He doesn’t want me because ‘I’m stuck with a cripple and a baby. He won’t put me through that.’ What gives him the right to decide my feelings for me?” She was crying again now, hands shaking and he didn’t know what to do or how to help and so he pulled her into a hug. Her head was smushed into his shoulder and he would no doubt be left with tears and snot, but he didn’t care. Elain could do what she liked as long as it made her happy.

“I’ve got you, Lainy. I’m sure he didn’t mean it; he’s probably just in shock is all. And if he did mean it, then I’ll kick his ass, no one hurts my Lainy or my niece. Uncle Cass has got her, both of you.”

After a while the shaking stopped and her tears turned into sniffles and she tilted her head back to look at him. “Thank you.” It was gentle but broken whisper and Cassian hoped to whatever gods that were listening to make his brother see sense.

“How about I phone Lucien for you? You haven’t really been able to see him for a few days and I’m sure he’d like to see you. I’ll ask him to come get you and take you back to the house and the two of you can hang out there. Besides they want Az to stay overnight just to be sure and keep an eye on his leg.” Elain nodded before burying her head back into his shoulder and before he phoned Vanserra, he sent a quick text off to Nesta.

She’s all good, just a bit overwhelmed. I’m going to get Lucien to come get her and take her to the house. Love you.

-Cass

He and Azriel had been handed bad cards in life, ever since they were born but now, now was when everything was good for them. They both had amazing girlfriends who loved them unconditionally, there was a little one about to be added to the family and they were finally, finally happy. Of course one drunken asshole had to come along and possibly ruin everything his brother had ever hoped to have.

oOoOo

Elain was so tired, so goddamn tired that she felt as though she could sleep for a week. She felt utterly drained as she stepped through the door to Lys’ house. The woman had come out to give her one of the spare keys when she’d heard that Elain was leaving, telling her to eat, drink and do whatever she wanted and that if Lucien wanted to stay overnight to keep her company then he was more than welcome to. Lucien was behind her and she just knew his hands were braced in front of him as if he expected her to crash and drop from exhaustion. She had missed her best friend, truly, but with everything that was going on they just hadn’t had the time to hang out.

 “Okay Lainy bear, Cassian said that his mother would like for me to cook you dinner. What do you feel like, and before you say ‘I’m not hungry’, you’re eating for two so this is me putting my foot down.” She rolled her eyes knowing that yes, she would have predictably said that in the past, but she wouldn’t do that to her little girl. That was the first thing he’d actually said other than the few greetings since he’d picked her up, and that didn’t sit too well with her.

“I’m not going to break you know, we can talk, you don’t have to be silent because you’re scared of saying the wrong thing.” He pushed a hand through those beautiful, long red locks- seriously, why does he get such nice hair and she gets a birds nest? –and gave a very loud sigh.

“I was just waiting for you to decide when you actually wanted to talk that’s all. And you’re also making that face, the one where you are so done with everyone’s shit, so how about we have some dinner and then you can sleep. I’ll stay up and get things ready for when the others come back. Yeah?”

Elain nodded and went into the kitchen with him to search for what to cook. They ended up choosing to do a chicken pasta bake with vegetables, something that would be easy to heat up later. It was effortless to move around each other after a few minutes, having done this a ridiculous amount of times before when they spent whole weekends together. Lucien sat there and watched her when they were done, making sure she finished her plate and then glared at her when she tried to clean up. Her best friend then even went as far as trailing her up the stairs, the overbearing mother hen. “I can walk up the stairs by myself.”

“I know you can.” She rolled her eyes but then froze in her place when they got to the top of the stairs. Lucien bumped into her back at the sudden halt in movement. “Ellie? Why have we stopped?”

“Um, I have to sleep in his room.”

“So? He’s your boyfriend and you’ve slept in the same bed before.”

Her eyes closed at the onslaught of words from their argument earlier hit her. “W-we had a bit of a fight at the hospital and now I don’t know what we are. I said I would save him the hassle of breaking up with me and stormed out, basically.” She tipped her head up to the ceiling, holding the tears at bay; she didn’t want to cry anymore, she was so tired of crying.

“Oh Elain, I’m sure it’ll be alright and he definitely wouldn’t want you to make yourself uncomfortable on the couch. You and the baby need sleep in a proper bed.” He was right, of course he was. She nodded and moved towards his room, she hadn’t actually been here since that party, the night that had changed everything. Images flashed through her mind as she opened the door, them laughing at a movie, her head on his shoulder, soft and warm lips, a painful pinching sensation and then pure bliss. Lucien told her he’d be right downstairs if she needed something and kissed her cheek before leaving again. She stripped out of her clothes, smelling of that too clean hospital smell. She debated what to wear to bed before giving in and pulling on one of Azriel’s t-shirts. Her body sank into that wonderfully soft bed, pulling the covers up and over her shoulders before closing her eyes. Everything smelt of him, comforting and just so fucking good, and her breaths turned ragged thinking about how worried she was that the worst had happened to him.

She loved him for the person he was, his caring and happy personality. Yes, he was beautiful and she’d be blind if she couldn’t see it but he was more than just his looks. If he could love her changing body, the stretch marks that were beginning to appear, the stomach that was no longer flat, then why did he think she wouldn’t love him all the same as he was now?

Eventually her exhaustion was too much, her eyes too heavy and she succumbed to sleep, a hand curved around her stomach. She hoped that Cassian’s was right, that Az was just in shock and that come morning, she wouldn’t have lost the person who meant the world to her and had given her something she hadn’t even known she’d wanted.

—————

Oh the pain, the angst how I love hate to give it to you😏 Want to be added/removed from the tags then just let me know:))

Tags: @bryaxisthefaceofnightmares @starlitfangirl @starsauroras @drunken-starz @myfriendscallmeraba  @thesirenwashere @empress-sei @elrielllll  @stars-falling @elain-shadowsinger @verifiefangirl  @theshadowsinger-and-thefawn @fancyclodpaintercookie @acourtofterrasenandvelaris @silver-flames @queen-of-glass @bamchickawowow @empress-ofbloodshed @sleeping-and-books @kvi-arts @tswaney17 @awkward-avocado-s @courtofjurdan @junkiejosten10 @mu-si-ca-l @agem10 @harmonyindark245 @slightly-sane-fangirl @tanaquilpriscilla @starrynightsbooks @maastrash @kendarbahr @elriel4life @illyriangarbage @b00kworm @thewayshedreamed

[angrylizardjacket]

runs in the family // charlotte&lola (penny&jupiter)

Summary: Jupiter and Penny somehow find themselves in 1981. What else is there to do but meet their moms at Motley Crue's first gig?

A/N: as always, for @misscharlottelee and eva ill edit this and tag u when I find ur new url. @compositionnotebook 💖 why did I write this? Because I love to suffer. Also as always, unedited.

----

Of course, waking up in a hotel room they don’t remember, with their cousin asleep in the other bed, only to realise that they’re back in LA when they’re meant to be on the other side of the country in the middle of their tour, Jupiter was understandably panicked. They hadn’t been drinking last night, and they’re pretty sure there was no way of them getting across the country without realising, and the idea that something is up is solidified when Penny wakes up and starts panicking too. 

The front desk says they’re paid up for the month; the woman’s hair is sand blonde, feathered and sprayed up to the high heavens, while the uniform she wears is the ugliest shade of green Jupiter’s ever laid eyes on, but the woman has the gall to give Jupiter’s outfit an unimpressed look. They’re all for the current resurgence in 80s fashion trends, but it feels like this woman may have committed too hard to the bit. Jupiter, nonetheless, asks the woman if she remembers how they and Penny had arrived, and the woman actually rolls her eyes and says that she’s not paid to ask nosy questions. 

It takes the cousins a full hour to find out that somehow they’ve landed themselves in 1981, a full day to believe it, and a full week to fully understand what that means. 

“I hate this, I want to do something, go somewhere,” Friday night and Jupiter’s sick to death of no TV and only the radio for entertainment. Whoever had been staying here, whoever’s place they and Penny had taken, had left a wallet with no ID, but an exorbitant amount of cash, and a closet full of clothes in their sizes. It’s eerie as fuck, but the only person who’s come knocking was the housekeeping staff, and Jupiter tells them to go away every time. 

“We are near The Strip in the eighties,” Penny suggests, flicking through a newspaper idly, lounging on the bed, “what if we saw young Guns ‘n’ Roses live, or, oh God, what about Motley, could you imagine?” Penny snorted, and Jupiter’s whole expression wrinkles to something horrified.

“They weren’t around yet, were they? What’s the date?”

“April twenty-fourth,” Penny’s expression sobers considerably from it’s delight, adding, “nineteen eighty-one,” much quieter, “fuck.”

They agree to go out, if only to get out of the room they’d been hiding from the world in, rather terrified to face their reality. There’s hesitation; do they get dressed up? Do they use the makeup sitting neatly on the bathroom counter? It felt safer to try and blend in, but blending in with the 80s nightlife wasn’t exactly the easiest thing in the world. 

Both have the distinct, horrifying thought of ‘I look like my mother’ when they’re finished, looking in the mirror, all dark makeup and patterned jeans and leather jackets; there’s a leather miniskirt that neither of them touch, not wanting to go too hard on their first night in the apparent real world. There’s a half empty bottle of hairspray on the counter that they both eye dubiously.

“It would be weirder if we didn’t spray up our hair, right?” Penny says, and Jupiter feels distinctly like a teenager, uncertain, awkward, not quite sure of their style, rather than the early-30s successful musician they were. 

It doesn’t end up looking good, at least not to their 2020 sensibilities, but as they make their way down to the street, a woman in leopard print gushes over how good they both look. 

It’s sunset, with people looking just as out there are the out-of-time cousins, band posters and flyers plastered to every wall, every telephone pole, every surface available as they walked the six blocks to The Strip. It takes only the ten minute walk from their shitty little hotel, to the Whiskey-A-Go-Go, for the reality it of it all to settle in Jupiter’s stomach like they’d swallowed ice. More specifically, it takes right up until they’re standing on the corner by the Whiskey, Penelope’s eye caught by one of the flyers on the nearby telephone pole, for Jupiter to think to look across the street at the rundown apartment complex that they realise they already know of. 

They gaze upon the window of one of the apartments on the second floor, with, even at this distance, a visibly fist-sized hole, gaff-taped up through the window. Jupiter knows that window, even as Penelope’s calling their name insistently. 

“It’s April Twenty-Fourth, right?” Penny calls, dubiously, and Jupiter says something about how that’s what she’d said back at the hotel, not paying attention.

“First ever rehearsal we had for the band, I didn’t even see your mom, she was out somewhere, the gym I think, but before she’d gone, she and Nikki had a fight and she put her whole fist through the window; I thought they were the coolest people I’d ever met.”

Tommy’s voice floats through Jupiter’s mind as they finally turn to Penny, to her insistent tone, only to step back, as if burned by the very sight of the Motley Crue poster. Penny was holding one corner in a fist, eyes wide. Tonight. The Starwood. 

“No.” Jupiter didn’t even let her get an word in edgewise, but Penny shook the poster more intently. 

“We have to,” she implored, though Jupiter was now adamantly shaking their head.

“We have to do no such thing,” Jupiter crossed their arms, cocking a hip. Turning their nose in the air at the poster, they accidently catch a glimpse of what they’re pretty sure is their mom’s apartment, and their expression reflexively wrinkles.

“What if my mom’s there?” Penny says quietly, and oh God damn it, there’s no way Jupiter could say no to that. The walk from the Whiskey to the Starwood is a good half an hour, and they’re both just glad to have opted for the flat shoes they’d brought from the future, rather than risked any of the platforms or heels that were lined up neatly at the bottom of the closet they’d raided. There’s a Motley poster ever few feet, and while dread had settled in Jupiter’s stomach, Penny was buzzing beside them nervously.

The Starwood had closed only months after Motley’s first performance, but both Jupiter and Penny had heard their family lovingly reminisce about it, with photos from the night, from nights before and after, so it strangely felt like they’d been there before, looking at the club’s name up in shining lights, Motley Crue headlining the night just below. 

“Isn’t that the guy from Rock Candy?” There’s two dudes a few feet away, squinting at another poster for the band, then looking up to the sign, both of them in leather jackets and flared jeans. 

“Dude, fuck, that’s the guy from London, last gig he played, he broke the singer’s jaw!” The second dude, delights, already tugging his friend towards the club where people were already filtering in.

“No man, their roadie broke the singer’s nose after he knocked out two of the bass player’s teeth on stage -”

It was so strange to hear misinformation spread so casually about people both Jupiter and Penny knew so well; they’d both heard the story of the night Tommy and Charlotte had met Nikki and Lola, how London had a small fight on stage that ended up giving Nikki a bloody nose, and how Lola had knocked out two of the singer’s teeth the in alley behind the bar after the gig. But here, now, it was like it’s own kind of folklore. 

They follow the men inside. 

No-one check their IDs, thank God, their own wallets hadn’t travelled back in time with them. The bouncer lets them pass without issue, and Jupiter is strangely reminded of their age as they see the people around them, a majority in their early to mid-20s, all looking right at home in leather and black denim. It’s still fairly quiet, the stage looking only half set up with a few clusters of people milling around the bar. There’s two people on the stage, setting it up, but with their backs turned, but they’re not exactly recognisable, long blonde hair and dark hair respectively, though the dark-haired one is in a distinctively spiked jacket. Closer to them, however is, a pretty red-head sat at the end, all tight clothes and effortless elegance, one leg crossed over the other where she was lounging against the bar on her barstool, a beer in one hand. Something about her is so familiar.

Jupiter and Penny carefully sit themselves by the bar too, a few seats away from the red-head, looking around but not quite processing it all. They’re at Motley Crue’s first show. 

Jupiter’s squinting at the row of drinks behind the bar, trying to decide what to order, when Penny grabs their hand so hard it hurts. Before they can turn back, however, they hear a voice they’ve only ever heard recordings of.

“Aw, Eileen, so nice of you to get me a drink,” Charlotte Lee’s tone was all teasing and light as she took the bottle out of the redhead - Eileen’s - hand, taking a sip as Eileen herself rolled her eyes.

“Lola is a terrible influence on you,” Eileen said flatly. Penny’s nails were digging into Jupiter’s forearm. Charlotte hands the drink back with a fond twinkle in her eyes.

“Lola hasn’t paid for a drink in her life, so I happen to think she’s a great influence-”

“She only drinks for free because she’s blackmailing half the bartenders in town,” the bartender himself piped up, cracking open a beer and handing it over to Charlotte without her even having to ask, flashing a grin that’s all teeth, “you ladies drink for free because I like making pretty girls smile.”

“Ricky, you’re the one who keeps hitting on her,” Charlotte points out, and his expression falls almost comically fast; “you keep taking her back to your place.”

“Only ‘cos she lives with Nikki and I don’t feel like being fucking stabbed in my sleep,” Ricky counters, pouting and flustered, his arms crossed over his chest. 

“That’s definitely fair, but it’s not Lola’s fault you’re embarrassed about having a nun fetish,” Eileen’s tone is unbothered in the fact of Ricky’s embarrassment, though her lips twitch in the barest amuse smile as she adds, “Father Richard,” and Ricky turns scarlet as Charlotte spits half her mouthful of beer as a laugh escapes her. 

Jupiter can feel their heart beat in their throw. This is so real, what the fuck. 

“Can we help you?” And then Eileen’s looking directly at Penny and Jupiter, who realise that they’re staring at the women by the bar, eyes wide like they’d seen a ghost. Ha. She’s got a single, perfect eyebrow raised, shifting in a way that’s barely noticible, but so clearly confrontational, like a cat’s fur raising even when a cat doesn’t move. 

“Charlotte Lee,” there’s a wobble in Penny’s voice when she finally speaks, and Jupiter can feel the way her hand’s trembling, “that makes... that makes you Eileen -” and she swallows hard, editing the last name she knows so well for the one that Eileen would have had in 1981, “Austen.” 

Charlotte and Eileen share a look, and then look back to Penelope. 

“Wait right here,” Charlotte sounds delighted, actually addressing Penny with a hand out.

“How do you guys know who we are?” Eileen asks, as Charlotte takes off towards the stage. Penny moves instinctively to follow her, but Jupiter holds her in place. There’s something in the evaluative look she gives them, lip curling just a little, on edge at being stared at by two strangers who must be roughly a decade older than them, who seem to already know them. “Are you friends of Lola’s?” She asks dubiously, and Jupiter is fighting the urge to run.

“Our little brother went to high school with you both,” Penny blurts out, “he was in the year above you,” but something seems to ease about Eileen’s posture as Penny tells her the exact school, and the year she and Charlotte would have graduated. It’s too specific for Eileen to think they’re lying, and for that both Jupiter and Penny are glad.

For all that Penny is Charlotte and Razzle's daughter, she was still raised, at least in part, by Lola, arguably the best liar of her generation. All the various Lee-Dingley-Sixx children had some innate ability to convincingly lie through their teeth, and though it didn't come in handy for Penny nearly as much as it seemingly did Jupiter, she was never more grateful for that skill than she was now.

“False alarm, Charlie, their brother went to school with us,” Eileen calls out, just as Charlotte is returning, dragging a dark haired woman both Jupiter and Penny knew far too well.

Seeing Charlotte at first had been so overwhelming that they hadn’t really processed what she’d looked like, but now, standing next to who could only be Lola, in 1981, it hit Jupiter just how young they both were. 

Lola’s still shorter than her own child, but taller than Jupiter remembers her ever being, curtesy of her intimidating platform boots, leather and buckles and spikes, a good match for her spiked leather jacket and studded bralette. She’s all sprayed up hair, larger than life, dark eyeshadow, and fishnets, somehow wearing so much and not at all at the same time. 

Beside her, Charlotte is only a few inches shorter, hair just as high, still with dark makeup, looking like a beautiful middle ground between Lola’s intimidating intensity and Eileen’s high glamour. In flashy denim pants and an artfully ripped, hand painted Motley Crue shirt, Charlotte’s the picture of the eighties, as beautiful and bright as any photo or recording Penny and Jupiter had ever seen. 

Charlotte’s expression falls with disappointment, but before she can speak -

“You’re twenty-two!” Jupiter hears themselves say, and Lola looks directly at them, lip curling. Jupiter’s blood runs ice cold. 

“What?” The single word is so derisive in a voice that Jupiter has never known to be cold, and before anyone else can speak, Lola looks to Charlotte, eyebrow raised. When she crosses her arms over her chest, even the leather jacket can’t completely hide how well muscled her arms are, “Charlie, I love you but I don’t give a shit about two old broads whose brother you knew, we gotta finish setting up.” It hurt like a physical ache, somewhere behind Jupiter’s sternum, each word somehow hurting more than the last.

“Don’t be rude,” Charlotte told her, elbowing her in the ribs, smiling even so.

“I don’t even know my fucking age - who are you?” Lola’s undeterred, on hand holding a roll of gaff tape in a white-knuckled grip, while the other had curled into a fist, weight shifting from one foot to the other in agitation. Okay, that’s very fair, Jupiter regrets ever opening their mouth. Fuck. 

“You don’t know how old you are?” Charlotte asks, disbelieving, breaking the tension, and Lola looks back at her, face scrunching up as the tension drops from her shoulders.

“Why would I know my age?”

“Because that’s a very weird thing not to know!” Charlotte exclaimed in disbelief, eyes wide. Jupiter, on the other hand, wracked their brains for any scrap of knowledge they’d heard about their mother’s past and actually retained.

“Sorry, we know we’re being weird,” eyes closed, they took a deep breath, trying to sort out their thoughts, “our brother Leo went to school with Charlotte and Eileen, but we... talked to a band you roadied for, and they told us roughly how old you were, but you look,” Jupiter pauses, cracking open their eyes, only to see the way Lola's expression had softened upon hearing the name Leo - oh fuck, she doesn't even know the truth about her own dad yet! -“younger than I expected.”

“I’m used to Lola being recognised around here, just got my hopes up that it was my turn,” Charlotte admits with the faintest embarrassment, picking her drink up from the bar and taking a sip. 

“One day soon, Charlie, if the boys take off, we’ll be right beside ‘em; everyone in LA will know your name,” the way Lola says it is strangely wry, like she’s self aware of the fact that her own name is out there for some less than reputable reasons, or like she isn’t fully convinced that Motley Crue would be the runaway success they all hoped.

Jupiter and Penny share a look, pained by the dramatic irony the three women across from them couldn’t even begin to comprehend.

It takes a moment, and Lola is definitely still a bit wary, but then it passes, and Lola looks to the stage again, still clearly addressing Charlotte.

"If you wanna help me with the last bit, I just need to do a sound check.” And with that, she was off, and Jupiter lets out a breath that hadn’t realised they’d been holding. Penny is still staring at Charlotte, who's rocking back on her heel as she has another drink, contemplating going after Lola, but also intrigued but the two interlopers enough to stay.

Eileen asks their names.

Penny and Jupiter share a panicked look, because they can't just tell the truth, it would make things weird in the future! What if they end up in the present named something entirely new!? They hadn't even begun to consider the butterfly effect of their being here.

"Lisa?" Jupiter says finally, picking a name they'd used in the past, but not for long, a nickname derived from their birth name in honour of their grandmother. Eileen looks wildly unconvinced, but Charlotte, bright and kind and perfect and alive, tells them its pretty. Penny is struggling to come up with an alternative, before conceding that her nickname is probably common enough that it wouldn't really matter.

"Penny's such a pretty name," Charlotte beams, and tells them its lovely to meet them, and Jupiter rests a gentle hand on their cousin's back, a silent reminder to keep breathing, as Charlotte trots off to help Lola with the last of the sound check.

Jupiter orders them both several drinks.

They end up sitting at the other end of the bar, away from the spot Eileen has clearly claimed for herself and Motley Crue's glorified roadies. Penny is quietly trying not to hyperventilate every time she thinks too hard about what's happening, and made a muffled scream upon hearing Charlotte laugh at one of Lola's jokes.

"I've died, Jup, we've died and this is the afterlife because that is my fucking mother, and she's alive, and she's twenty-one goddamn years old. She is a child. Our mothers are children. What the fuck?!" Penny hissed, and took another sip of her drink. Jup was watching Lola, so young and confident and mean as all hell, a defensive mechanism that's only made apparent to be such because Jupiter's known her longer than this version of Lola's been alive. But she smiles around Charlotte and Eileen in a way Jupiter's never seen her smile before, something grateful and adoring at the corners of her lips, an unfamiliar kind of softness in her eyes for just the barest moment.

Lola smiles like she feels lucky to be here, to be around these women, to call them friends. Here and now it hits Jupiter hard, that even decades later, their mother never fully recovered from losing Charlotte.

"We're not dead," Jupiter tells their cousin softly, and they both watch Lola and Charlotte head back to the green room before the band begins.

"But I- how, explain then, how can I go over there and touch her? She's real, Jup, really real, my mother, Charlotte Lee."

"I can't explain it, it just is," Jupiter muses, and finishes of their next drink as Lola and Charlotte reappear, followed by the band, all looking far too young and overeager, and Jupiter's heart is beating in their throat as Tommy Lee beams and waves to the crowd. They're going to be sick. Or maybe cry. Or maybe have a full panic attack right here by the bar. Fucking hell he's even more of a child than Charlotte, only twenty, and just as bright and excitable as they've known him to be, possibly moreso.

The audience seems underwhelmed, not sure what to make of these boys with their leather and hairspray and nervous excitement; Vince introduces them to the quiet bar with a yell, and Jupiter kind of hates that their future step-dad is giving them gender envy.

And then Tommy knocks over his cymbal after showing off with his drumsticks, and Jupiter bursts into tears.

They're furious at themselves for crying, hand pressed to their mouth for fear of anyone hearing if they would sob, brow furrowed into a scowl, other hand messily wiping at their eyes as they mouth defiant swears against their palm. People are jeering and booing, and out of the corner of their eye, Jupiter sees Charlotte actively holding Lola back, and something deep inside their heart knows that if there wasn't stupid fucking tears in their eyes, they'd be just as ready to defend the band's honour as their mom is.

"Oh, he's always been like this-" Penny's voice is softly adoring as she watches the man who will one day be her uncle and adopted father, before she looks to Jupiter, sees them overwhelmed with it all, and mad at themselves for feeling that, and she laughs, gentle and kind and understanding, and wraps Jupiter up in a hug. Its grounding. Even as Jupiter sulkily tells her to fuck off, they wrap an arm around Penny's shoulders and press their face into her hair.

"He looks like you," Penny murmurs as the first song starts, despite the negativity still pouring from the crowd. Jupiter wrinkles their nose, but can't help but smile. Tommy looks incredibly cool tonight, and it's true that Jupiter had inherited a lot of physical characteristics from their father.

Everyone in the bar hears the jeering way a dude in the audience asks about the 'chick singer', and for a moment, the children unwittingly mirror their mothers as Penny's grip on Jupiter tightens, anticipating when they go to lunge for the stage in outrage, but the moment the guy spits on Vince, across the bar Charlotte let's go of Lola, setting her loose on the vitriolic patrons.

Penny and Jupiter knew Motley's first gig started with a fight, but it was another thing to witness it.

Tommy leaps into the crowd, delighted by the carnage that Nikki and Vince are already taking part in, and Lola’s already knocked a guy flat on his ass. Surprisingly, Charlotte lobs her half-empty bottle at the guy who had spat at Vince, not taking direct part, but not abstaining either, cackling when it shatters against him and he's looking around, angry and confused, and Eileen says her name with a tone thats both scandalised and impressed.

In the end, by the time the bouncers step in, all that's left is Tommy absolutely wailing on a dude, and much to everyone's surprise, most of all her child's, little Lola Gone wraps her arms around Tommy's chest, cops a full elbow to the face, and still hauls him up and off his victim like he weighs nothing, even as he's thrashing and swearing and telling her to go fuck herself before realising who it is. When she puts him down, she snarls something at him, and shoves him towards the stage.

By the bar, Jupiter's mouth is agape, while Penny is trying to hold in her laughter, both of them realising just how terrifyingly similar to their father Jupiter actually is. And that at Twenty-Two, Lola is built like a tank.

The things you never truly understand about your parents because you always think of them as your parents is wild.

But above all, in the wake of the small riot, Jupiter and Penny can only feel a strange and overwhelming pride, seeing how eagerly they'd all defended each other.

"Fuck yeah, Motley Crue!" Leaves Penny's lips, delighted, at the top of her lungs, and suddenly the eyes of everyone in the bar, and more importantly, the people these two time travelling cousins will call family, forty years from now, fall on them. Grateful. Beaming. Then, laughter; Charlotte’s.

"Fuck yeah!" She echoes her daughter, and a cheer rises around the bar as the band begins playing again, energy revitalised. Charlotte beams at them, sharing in the moment, waving them both over eagerly as the bartender begrudgingly hands over a stack of napkins, while Lola's got her head tipped back, arguing with Eileen as to whether or not her nose is broken as it bleeds profusely.

Even at their first gig, Take Me To The Top sounds good, sounds like it should, all rough and energetic, and Jupiter knows how strange it would be to sing along at the band's first fucking gig, but the song, even now, feels like home.

"Lola, you're a danger to yourself and others," Eileen smirked, "and you're a terrible influence on Charlie."

"Thank you," Lola grins, right as Charlotte tries to deny it, which devolves into Eileen pointing out that Charlotte had lobbed her bottle at one of the offenders, which delighted Lola to no end.

"Don't know if you would know this, not sure how much your brother would have said," Charlotte says, grinning at Jupiter and Penny, "but my cousin, Tommy, he's the one on drums," she says, oozing pride. Jupiter and Penny both bite back on their instinctual responses, but still the surprise reads on their face.

"The one who did this to me," Lola's beaming despite looking a little like a horror movie, sounding only proud.

"He's certainly energetic," Penny says, finally, before letting herself breathe, watching the band for the moment, "they're really good," like she can't quite believe this is all real, still, "they have no idea how huge they're gonna be," the words slip out quite by accident, and both Jup and Penny share a panicked look, but the words don't get the reaction they expected.

"I knew I liked you," Charlotte's grin is sharp and pleased, and before Penny can protest, Charlotte's thrown an arm around her shoulders, "you've got taste." And that's enough incentive for Charlotte to shout both Jup and Penny a drink, oblivious to the way Penny freezes, like a deer in the headlights. Her mother's arm is around her without her mom even knowing how much this means. She looks like she's about to cry.

"Its really good to meet you, Charlie," Penny's voice is strangely hoarse, strangely honest in ways Charlotte can't even begin to understand, and Charlotte gives Penny's shoulder a squeeze.

"You too, Penny, and you, Lisa," she adds, grinning up at Jupiter for a moment, "anyone who thinks good things about my reckless dumbass of a cousin and his band is good in my books." She's so effortlessly earnest and endearing, exactly as everyone had described her, able to make friends wherever she went. Penny tentatively thanks Charlotte when she hands her a drink, and wraps an arm around Charlotte's waist when the younger blonde seemed content with an arm around Penny's shoulders.

"I can't believe you two are the only other assholes with taste," Lola smirks, holding a napkin to her nose.

"Get bent," Jupiter fires off automatically at the vaguely derisive tone, and Lola flips them off while Charlotte shoves her in the ribs. This moment, in its own weird little way, makes sense.

[uvindi]

NEW THEME AND URL OMG FOR A SECOND I DIDN'T RECOGNISE YOU I WAS LIKE WHO IS THIS PERSON WHY DO I FOLLOW THEM THEN I SAW YOUR DESCRIPTION LMFAO

JDJDJEJDDJDBEK YEAH I CHANGED IT LIKE 5 MINUTES AGO EJEBEKB

[lesbiangracehanson]

for 'lets get personal': 1, 2, 4, 7, 14, 19, 24, 26?

27, 38, 39, 40, 41, 43, 44, 45, 47, 52, 54, 62?

63, 65, 66, 74, 76, 79, 82, 84, 95?

hope you have fun with all those!

i’ve just added all ur messages together hahaha + also gonna put this under a keep reading thing loool

1: 6 of the songs you listen to most? did this one! 

2: If you could meet anyone on this earth, who would it be? currently...... either victoria pedretti or amelia eve, i’ve been watching maybe too many interviews of them + i just think they both have such lovely energy + would just be nice to b around :(

4: What do you think about most? currently.......... the haunting of bly manor, generally.... whether or not i’m a bad person/if i’m doing enough with my life

7: What’s your strangest talent? being able to identify what s1-4 doctor who episode a particular murray gold piece of music is in, within about 10 seconds of it starting...... niche ? perhaps, but me + my sister tested this theory on a long boring lockdown day + it’s legit i’m afraid :///

14: If you are outside, what are you most likely doing? walking my dog 

19: What does your URL mean? grace hanson is a LESBIAN >:-) 

24: Do you have a collection of anything? postcards + badges! i like either keeping them for myself or sometimes passing them onto others as like a nice, surprise little gift - especially in lockdown i feel like i’ve started posting friends random things just for fun

26: Are you happy with the person you’ve become? not yet, but compared to me over a year ago..... i do feel happier with where i currently am

27: What’s a sound you hate; sound you love? sound i hate is nails on a blackboard lol, sound i love ..... i guess any music i like! or the sound of the sea

38: What’s the weather like right now? rainy + v windy :( 

39: What time is it? nearly 2am

40: Do you drive? If so, have you ever crashed? i’m currently learning to drive + am pleased to say i have Not crashed (yet)

41: What was the last book you read? severance by ling ma!! 

43: Do you have any nicknames? my sisters + some of my friends started calling me olive to annoy me + it remains a nickname looool

44: What was the last film you saw? suspiria (the 1977 one!) 

45: What’s the worst injury you’ve ever had? 2 summers ago i had a very bad ovarian cyst + apparently my pain threshold was too high for me to recognise that things were Not Good so it ended up damaging one of my ovaries beyond repair loooool + i had to have an emergency operation to have the cyst + the ovary removed rip, not to overshare on main but.... genuinely one of the worst experiences of my life lol would not recommend!!!!

47: Do you have any obsessions right now? not sure if it’s obvious :/// but ....the haunting of bly manor 

52: What is your astrological sign? gemini

54: What’s the last thing you purchased? mantel pieces by hilary mantel! 

62: What’s your favourite animal? Hmmmm dogs!!!

63: What is your secret weapon to get someone to like you? making them laugh imo!

65: Give me your top 5 favourite blogs on Tumblr. - i’m simply Can’t do this!!!!! i feel like i have like.... a fair few mutuals who i will just love forever + never unfollow + then also just blogs that i enjoy + look through on a regular basis but i’m not mutuals w/ + there’s essentially too many to narrow it down to 5 (janelle u are one of those mutuals i will never unfollow at this point i think ahjsbfjsdf if that’s what u wanted to know!! hahaha) 

66: What is your heritage? white + british loooooool im sorry 

74: What’s a song that always makes you happy when you hear it? hmmm a few came to mind: burning down the house by talking heads, maria by blondie, honey hi by fleetwood mac

76: In your opinion, what makes a great relationship? kindness, good communication + laughter 

79: What is the single best decision you have made in your life so far? LOOOOOOL have i ever made a good decision!!!!! impossible to tell, i think ... sorting myself out last autumn probably, i was really putting everything into doing my masters, i’d just started my bookclub, i was volunteering at a gay archive + working a bit too. i think deciding to do all those things to put myself in a better headspace + also putting myself out of my comfort zone was a good move for me + i’m proud of myself for doing it im ngl 

82: What is your favourite word? my mind is blanking on this, i’ve forgotten all words 

84: What is a saying you say a lot? ‘it is what it is’ asjdbsdjhf i say it TOO much, i think i started saying it ironically + it has become ... less ironic  

95: You just got a free plane ticket to anywhere. You have to depart right now. Where are you gonna go? anywhere that would let a person from the stupid little island that is uk, into their country atm loooool

[daomaikeng]

You caught me by surprise for a second 😂 I saw that someone was liking my posts and when I went to check out the profile, I saw "Sara" in the description, and also that I was already following this blog. I was like wait I follow two Saras? alskskjd y'all should really put a warning for when you're going to change your url X

jsksks sorry pragya lmfao i was spamming your blog after a long time, got carried away i think 😂😂

but like didn't you recognise my description? im disappointed prags smh 😜

next time i change my url, you'll be the first person to know *pinky promise* good luck for your exams tho! smooches and kisses :*

[reydjarinkenobi]

The Fall of Saint Citrina

I’m posting this on my main because I think tumblr is eating the posts from my actual Dimension 20 blog.

My url for the other one is bogariel-fogariel if you want to see the post on the proper blog.

I wrote this becaise I haven’t seen enough people talking about what Citrina was feeling in her final hours. Feel free to come to give me any fic requests.

Read it on ao3 here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24751462

The church had betrayed her.

And she had discovered it too late.

The air in her chest burned as she heaved her breaths in and out, running down the streets faster than she ever had before.

Belizabeth was going to kill her.

She  almost couldn't believe it, the depth of the corruption she had  uncovered, the kind of fanaticism that was woven into the church's very  core.

Tears pricked the back of her eyes but she held them  back. She had practice. Her entire life had been devoted to the mastery  of her emotions so that she could always make her decisions with  consideration for the Bulb rather than for her own emotions.

But the Bulb didn't care.

She had to tell someone. Anyone.

But who would believe her? Who could do something about it? Who wasn't on their side?

She ducked into a shadowy alley to avoid the knights that were streaming quietly through the streets.

She  knew better than to try and find help from the citizens. She couldn't  count on them to not immediately turn her in, and she wouldn't consign  them to the same death she was being threatened with if they helped her.  She refused to.

Citrina took the small moment of reprieve to catch her breath as she huddled in the darkness.

She was injured and afraid and so terribly alone.

She was so far away from any of her people.

All  her family was on the front lines, fighting, but she had foolishly  thought that she would be of more use in the capital, helping the  citizens affected by the strain the war was putting on the Empire. It  was what the Bulb had wanted, she'd thought.

What a load of bullshit.

She  had never approved of the Belizabeth Brassica. She had suspected that  the woman's rapid rise through the ranks had been more due to  sacrilegious lust for power rather than her unparalleled devotion like  most of the Church believed. Or pretended to believe.

She had found proof of her suspicions too late.

The worst part was that she had proven her sister right.

She couldn't count the number of arguments that her and Lazuli had gotten into.

She  knew that her sister's actions went directly against the Church's law,  and her sister had always been quick to accuse the church of being empty  of anything really worth worshipping.

Citrina had  dismissed Lazuli's statements as the blasphemy of a heretic. She had  thought that her sister's magic was disgusting and unholy and would  consign her to eternal damnation.

Their last parting had been full of bitter words and vicious insults.

Citrina had found out just where Lazuli's precious order was drawing their power from.

She had claimed that she would report her for her crimes and Lazuli had dared her to, unconcerned with the consequences.

And then Citrina hadn't said anything. Had made herself just as much of a heretic as her sister.

Citrina wondered if Lazuli had seen that she wouldn't rat her out. Had seen her death.

However she dismissed the accusatory thought. Lazuli had seen all their deaths a hundred times over.

She  knew that Lazuli saw many possible futures and that, most of the time,  her visions were too numerous and confusing for her to truly act on them  in time to stop anything.

Her beloved sister had drifted  away from all of them even more after the war had started. She'd lost  herself to the visions, desperately trying to find the best outcome for  all of them and, now, she could barely tell if she was in the present  anymore.

The only time she really acted like her old self was around Caramalinda.

The thought pulled a few, lemony tears down from her eyes.

Citrina had been wrong before.

The worst part of this whole situation was that she would never get to apologise to Lazuli.

Maybe this was a punishment for her crimes against the Bulb and her family. She'd betrayed them both in the end, hadn't she?

She stamped that thought out.

The  Bulb didn't care what she did. She'd come to that revelation earlier  that evening when she had lain her hand across her book and attempted to  connect with it, the higher power she had devoted her life to. The  thing she had sacrificed her closest relationships for.

She had allowed the energy to flow through her, delving deeper into it than she ever had before, searching for answers.

She had found none.

Only mindless power.

Just like Lazuli had said she would.

She automatically started moving again as she heard footsteps coming up the streets she had ducked out of.

The  alleyway she was in opened out into one of the richer parts of the city  and Citrina blinked, disorientated. In her panic to escape, she hadn't  bothered to think about where she was going.

She cursed  herself silently but vehemently, using words that she'd learnt from  Rococoa and Sapphria, who had both learnt them from the soldiers that  they now fought beside.

Before she could decide where to go next, she heard clinking of armour again.

It  took her precious seconds to figure out which direction they were  coming from and her heart leapt into her throat when she realised that  the answer more than one.

She bolted down the street and  away from the knights that were creeping up the alley behind her and the  ones marching towards her from her right.

She ran blindly, her stomach twisting as she began to recognise the street for what it was.

Citrina  had gotten further than she'd thought. She was now in the lanes outside  the castle reserved for lower nobility visiting the capital.

Dread sent icy streams down her back.

There was only one way this would end.

Inevitably,  she was met with the ambush that she knew had been fast approaching,  going to turn down the street that her path had split into only to find  knights approaching on either side. She was cornered on all sides, a  wall of houses at her front, and enemies clogging her only three escape  routes.

She was trapped. These houses were empty, since  everyone was off at war and the non-fighting spouses and children having  been welcomed into the castle for a late night vigil for the brave  soldiers on the battlefield.

Citrina should have been standing with them praying for her sisters.

Praying to a useless god that wouldn't have done anything and cared for nothing.

A  thrill of hope went through her as she remembered just who's quarters  she was cornered against. It was a thin chance that the good friend who  had escorted her to the capital wouldn't have left yet. They had agreed  to meet at the castle after all.

Nevertheless, a desperate  scream escaped her throat as she called out to her last possible chance  of survival, all righteous thoughts of sparing other gone in the face  of her choking fear.

If he couldn't save her, maybe her  cry warn him in time for him to flee, for if he was close enough to  hear, they would surely eliminate him too. The church wanted to destroy  all of Candia after all.

"Calroy!"

Her voice  was more desperate than she had ever been before, and she almost cried  with a mix of fear and joy as the door to the balcony slowly opened and  her dear friend emerged, wine glass in hand.

He wouldn't be able to do anything in time, but she was grateful for his presence in her final moments.

Nevertheless,  this half a second of comfort would have to do. It was more important  that he escaped to inform Candia of what was to come.

"Run!" she screamed. "Get a message to Candia."

The knights had stopped moving now. They had surrounded her on all sides.

Yet Calroy didn't move.

Instead,  he inclined his head at someone behind her, offering his glass up in a  silent salute as a small smile spread across his face.

Citrina  spun around to face her murderers, registering Belizabeth Brassica  standing behind the wall of knights even as what had happened had  clicked into place within her mind.

Calroy had betrayed her. Betrayed all of Candia.

And she was going to die alone.

She would never see her sisters again. She would never see Amethar again.

Never  walk the halls of Castle Candy. Never smell the sweet sugary air. Never  know the true magic of Candia that Lazuli had always talked about.

As Belizabeth smirked at her, Citrina drew herself up to her full height, schooling her features.

She would not give them the satisfaction of seeing her tears, nor the honour of her fear.

"Do your worst, you Broccoli Bitch," she spat, looking down her nose at the knights around her.

Belizabeth snarled swinging her arm forward.

"Kill her!"

Inside, Citrina mourned for all that she had lost, and that Candia would lose in the future. She worried for what would happen to her family and to her kingdom. She regretted devoting her life to a hollow church instead of studying the magic of her roots.

She wanted to give her family one last hug.

But outwardly, she held her head high, even as an orange-skinned knight darted towards her.

And  so, Saint Citrina, one of the few truly holy followers of the Bulb, was  cut down in the streets of Comida, far away from her home, murdered by  the cause she had dedicated her life to.

She died alone and afraid, her only comfort a traitor that stood above her, smiling as her body crumpled to the ground.

Her  family would not discover the truth of her death for two decades. She  would be remembered as one of the kindest, sweetest, holiest members of  the Church, inadvertently adding to its strength even as it betrayed  her.

But even in death she stood strong.

And,  in her final moments, she felt a different kind of magic flood her  veins. She did not break eye contact with the future pontifex even as  the sword cut through her chest.

As she fell, her eyes  sparked purple and light of the same sugary colour surrounded her, even  as her yellow blood stained the stones beneath her, sending a citrusy  sweet smell into the air.

For in sweetness there is strength.

[ladyhavilliard]

rosi :eyes: you're back! i can't remember what url i had when you last saw me, so uh if you don't recognize this url i was fireflyangelxx once upon a time c:

i swear i just stalked your blog like ten seconds ago... And yes, it was because I couldn’t recognise the url. BUT OH YEAH heyyy Cindy!!! It’’s been so long

[you-andthebottlemen]

53 - Request: OVERLAP song fic

So to celebrate the fact I am seeing Catfish tomorrow ahhhhhhhh!!!!! An Overlap fic!!!!!!!

Based on these requests:

From @chestinfect-me

YES! AN OVERLAP FIC PLEASE😭😭😭❤❤❤❤

From @cinnamonmouse8

Idk if you've already done this but maybe a cute little fic where the reader is at home just chilling, maybe like washing up or something and she's blasting Catfish's new album and singing along very offkey and muddling up words but then Van walks in and he thinks it's the cutest, maybe? Such a fan of ur fics either way ❤️

Thank you so much @chestinfect-me for your support! I recognise your URL from waaaay back. Thanks so much for sticking around. I love you and also your icon. Also a big thank you to @cinnamonmouse8 who has been a massive supporter of my writing recently and really inspired me to get back into it! I hope you both like this fic and how I have incorporated/interpreted the requests! Also hope it’s not too confusing lol. It’s a looong one and I’m not really sure how I feel about it.....Aaaanyway. Enjoy!!!!

E x 

***************************

Your relationship with Van was brief in the scheme of things but that didn’t make it any less serious. You fell fast and hard and your heart broke in two when you had to go your separate ways. You were in love, but things just weren’t working with his lifestyle and yours combined. Same old story really. It was devastating for you both, but you knew that at the time it was the right thing to part ways. You just weren’t meant to be. Time passed and things managed to heal. You dated other people and so did he, your time together started to become history. Neither of you harboured resentment, it was mutual. You stayed in touch here and there but nothing serious. You moved on.

Though as if you were two magnets with the widest of electromagnetic fields, you and Van always managed to find your way back to each other in the end. Every time you thought it was going to be a goodbye, it never was. Your paths crossed and your lives overlapped in more ways than one.

First time since the breakup –

A chance happening, a string pulled by the universe. The odds that you and Van were walking down the same street, at the same time in opposite directions were next to none. But it happened anyway. The look of recognition dawning on both your faces after a few seconds as your eyes met when you passed each other by. Awkward hugs and smiles of disbelief.

“How’ve you been?”

“Yeah good, you?”

“Yeah, fine thanks. How’s the band going?”

And a promise to call that was never fulfilled.

Your cousin’s engagement party –

Van McCann and Larry Lau; the guests no one thought would show. Old school friends of your cousin, they were invited out of chance. But they were there. They bounced through the door, life of the party anywhere they went. People enveloped them into hugs and burst into smiles like nothing you’d ever seen. They were hardly ever home these days; had to sell their cottage in Chester and everything you’d been told. Van made his way to you of course, having no trouble at all pulling you away from the rigmarole of such events. The rest of the party disappeared and so did the time that had escaped between you. You and he caught up like old friends and it was good, warm and right. You lingered at the back of the party in the shadows under the glowing fairy lights, talking and sharing stories of how life had been. You had time to take each other in and evaluate how time had changed you both; it hadn’t much. You thought about bringing up the past, talking about where it went wrong. But you and Van laughed as if nothing bad had ever happened between you and you didn’t want to ruin that. The party went on, you caught up with Larry too. You ate, danced, drank and all the while Van made sure to keep your champagne glass topped up, then got you back home safely in a taxi when the night came to a close.

The wedding –

You somehow ended up bridesmaid, your dress was far too pink for your liking and with too many frills. When you walked up the aisle, bouquet in hand, you couldn’t help but picture your own wedding; if you’d ever have one. As you did so, your eyes fell on Van who was sat in the middle with his mother. You could see even from there that his suit wasn’t pressed, and his tie was a little skew-whiff. Your stomach rippled with a feeling you weren’t sure of and he smiled as you passed him. You looked away. At the reception, once again, Van found you and things began to pick up where they’d left off. It all came easily. Van complemented your dress, you spoke with Mary and you introduced Van to your new boyfriend. Both of you acted like none of this was weird at all. It was just life. Your life.

…………..

One meeting in particular changed things. You had found yourself back home in the small town you wanted nothing more to do with. Reasons for being there aside, the universe wanted you there and wanted Van there too.

You’d escaped your dreary house for some air and were sat inside a shelter similar to that at a bus stop. It stood right on the edge of the beach where the pebbles started and led down to the water. From here you had a view out across the whole straight, flat shoreline. It was windy as hell; your hair blew around your face and you were too zoned out to hold it down or fix it. The sky was grey and so was the water, mirroring how you felt. Down and out. Life was taking its toll.

Staring out into the choppy, angry ocean, you hardly noticed as a figure sat beside you. People walked their dogs along the promenade here all the time, so company wasn’t unusual. But when the person reached a long arm out around your shoulders, you turned and saw that it was Van McCann, of all people. You leant into his touch without a thought and he pulled you close.

You didn’t have the mental capacity to wonder or ask why he was there or how he’d found you.

“You alright, love?” he asked, you didn’t reply.

You didn’t want to tell him about your sick aunt or your job that was desperately close to falling apart or the end to yet another relationship and he didn’t make you. He just took your cold, shaking hands in his own to warm them up and told you ridiculous stories from tour until you cracked a smile. Once he’d cheered you up a little, you both walked along the promenade past all the beach front hotels that were shut up for the winter. You shared memories from growing up and agreed that it was strange to be back there together.

Van walked you home and hugged you tight at the door.

“Are we like, friends now?” you asked softly as you pulled away.

All your run in’s with Van over the last year had left you at somewhat of a no man’s land. You weren’t sure if you were friends yet, but you weren’t just acquaintances either. You didn’t know what to make of it.

You reached out to smooth the thin gold necklace against his chest that had become wonky after your embrace.

“Yeah, y/n. We’re friends,” he replied. Then kissed you on the forehead and guided you inside with an arm around your waist.

…………

Eventually Van was settled, he seemed to have found a place. Maybe an Airbnb you weren’t sure. But he was near enough to you that you could meet up for drinks and whatever else. You grew closer, seeing each other a couple of times when he was off tour and things worked out with both your schedules.

The local pub was buzzing with energy. You could hear all the noise from your small flat above. When you came down, people were sat in crowded groups for a quiz, other’s more low-key up at the bar, some were huddled playing pool. You sat in a corner on a small, sticky sofa waiting for Van. You alternated between scrolling through pointless apps on your phone, sipping your drink and glancing at the door for the tall, skinny legged boy you were waiting for.

Finally, he moseyed through the door and plonked himself down beside you.

“Sorry I’m late,” Van said as he leant to kiss your cheek hello. “Phone’s fucked again too.”

“It’s fine, here. You’re gonna have to catch me up I’ve gotten through two of these,” you said as you pushed him a beer bottle across the coffee table. Beer table? He grinned, up for the challenge.

A night of thoughtless drinking ensued. Quickly, you and Van were slurring your words and getting a little closer than friends should. You sat tucked beside Van on the grimy sofa with your bare legs stretched out across his lap and his hands draped over them, rubbing soft circles on your skin with his thumb.

“Do you ever think about like, us?” he asked nonchalantly. He tipped his head back a little and the sharp line of his jaw became more pronounced.

“You mean when we dated?”

Van nodded. You rested your head down on his shoulder with a sigh. Your brain was too fuzzy to be talking about this.

“Why?”

“Did we fuck up by ending it?” he questioned.

His voice sounded strange and cloudy. You could feel his body tense beneath you and you knew he meant this more as a statement, despite putting it out there as a question.

“Don’t know. But hey, we’re here now,” you tried to sooth and steer the topic away from something so serious. You were friend’s now; you didn’t want to ruin that.  You didn’t want to lose him again.

“Yeah,” he agreed, moving in his seat and bundling you tighter in his lap.

“And we are drunk as all fuck,” you laughed.

“It’s pretty sound hey?” he smiled, giving in to your attempt at lightening the mood. You nodded happily, scrunching up your face at him a little.

Van suddenly stood, lifting you up like a bride and you squealed and threw your arms around his neck.

“I’m not gonna drop ya’ love,” he chuckled, sensing your fear

“Are you sure?” you whispered into his neck.

“I’ve got you y/n, always.”

………..

Going out and getting drunk with Van became somewhat of a routine when he was home. Same place, same time, same amount of fucked. He’d go from his place, to work, to yours almost on a loop. ‘Yours’ being the pub. Another thing that became a habit, was Van bringing up your past. You were both intoxicated every time and you’d almost always end up just laughing about it. Though you couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something serious behind his words. You never talked about it sober; that topic was strictly reserved for drunk Van and drunk y/n.

A few months since the last time, you found yourself once again in the local with Van. The only thing different this time, was that Larry and Bondy had joined you.

“So, what’s happening up in The Toon?” you asked Bondy, mocking his Geordie accent.

“Nothing much,” he shrugged, sipping his lager and ignoring your bait. “Went to a good gig at The Cluny the other week though.” he added, referring to a small gig venue he was always at when back home in Newcastle.

“Anything new with you?” Bondy asked. You crinkled your eyebrows to think, then shook your head no in response.

“You sure?” he questioned, nodding his head towards Van’s arm that hung over your shoulders.

“We’re just friends,” you answered quickly.

“Riiiight,” Larry chimed in sarcastically as he came over with a tray of drinks.

You and Van shifted together uncomfortably. He removed his arm and this small act made your stomach twist. Bondy and Larry exchanged a look.

Later on in the night, Van escaped outside for a smoke while the other two played pool. Having no interest in the game, you took Larry’s jacket and followed him out into the cold night. He was stood outside the pub just by the door, his back leant against the bricks.

“You’ll dirty your coat,” you told him, as you leant beside him.

“You’ll dirty Larry’s,” he countered.

“Touché.”

Van smoked in silence, the noise from inside the pub was muffled and the only other sound was the occasional car driving past. You weren’t really sure what was going on. Neither of you were as drunk as usual and things didn’t feel as fun, alcohol aside.

“Is everything okay?” you asked, crossing your arms and turning to face him.

Van dropped his cigarette and squished it under his boot with a sigh. He swatted a moth out of his face, and you let out an exhale in place of a laugh.

“Yeah. I mean…I dunno’ I just have stuff on my mind.”

Van ran a hand through his hair then shoved it into his pocket. Seeing him like this made you uneasy. You didn’t like being serious with Van. Deciding against questioning him further, you stayed quiet and gave him space to think and continue when he was ready.

“I know we talk about it and joke about it when we’re fucked. But I just can’t get it out my head,” he began, pulling away from the wall and sounding frustrated with himself.

Your heart lurched. No, Van, stop. Please.

“Have you really not thought about it? Trying again?” he questioned, his eyes snapping to yours pleadingly.

You had thought about it, but not seriously. You’d tried once and it didn’t work; you’d accepted that. You were friend’s now and that was going just fine. The idea of being in a relationship with Van again, unearthing all the things you once felt, seemed like the scariest thing in the world.

Van’s eyes stared intensely into your own, waiting for a response of some sort. You didn’t know what to say. He looked anxious. When you didn’t reply his eyes began to dart around your face desperately trying to read your blank expression.

“Do you want to be with me y/n?”

The words fell from his mouth quietly and you reeled.

“I- I can’t decide all this now. Not in one night,” you replied, leaning further back into the wall and shutting your eyes to calm yourself. Your mind was racing a million miles an hour.

Van sighed and moved closer to place a warm hand on your cheek.

“Take all the time you need y/n, you know I’ll follow your lead.”

Van led you back inside without another world, telling himself that you’d be together eventually if your path’s kept crossing like they had been. He had no doubt about it.

………

You hadn’t spoken to Van much after the conversation outside the pub. He’d left for tour once again and you’d gotten a new job that kept you busy. You were happier in this one too and the pay was better. This meant that in the three months Van had spent away, he returned home to find you in the midst of moving.

He’d called you just before his flight, saying he needed to talk once he was back. He sounded serious, like he had that night he asked you to be with him. You knew he wanted to work it out once and for all. Your body filled with anxiety yet again, but you agreed to meet in the pub downstairs at lunch time two days after he got back.

You were sweaty haired and stressed out by the time it was midday and you had to go see Van. There were boxes littered around the tiny flat, your possessions spread out across the floor and some boxes in the stair well that you’d managed to drag out. You honestly didn’t know how you’d accumulated so much stuff. After taking a final glance at your not so pleasant reflection in the mirror, you thought fuck it. Van wouldn’t care how you looked anyway.

He was sitting on the sofa in the back corner, your usual spot. Dressed in his usual black skinny jeans and black denim jacket. God, you really were both such creatures of habit. His mouth twisted into a smile when he saw you and he stood to hug you hello. He pulled away leaving his hands rested on your shoulders.

“You alright?” he asked, confused at the state of you.

“Yeah, packing. Moving,” you shrugged as he looked you up and down. “Gotta be out tomorrow morning.”

Van nodded and let his arms drop.

“I can help, if you want?” he offered.

“Sure. Thanks,” you smiled. “But first, what did you wanna talk about?” You knew full well what he wanted to talk about, but you acted ignorant in hopes of putting it off for as long as possible.

“Oh, yeah,” he shook his head as if he’d forgotten. “You know what? Doesn’t matter, just wanted to see ya. How about we go get on with those boxes?”

Van followed you up the stairs to your place. It was strange that he’d somehow never been up there before after the countless nights you’d spent together downstairs. Would the pub still be your meeting place once you moved?

He glanced around the room curiously, eyeing the boxes already packed and the possessions that still lay strewn about the place.

“You weren’t kiddin’ when you said small,” he commented.

The ‘flat’ you rented was a single room with a small kitchen, dining table, bed and shelves all in the one space with a tiny bathroom set off to the side in what may as well have been a cupboard. It was simple but it had worked.

“Yeah, well not all of us have rock star pay checks,” you teased, and Van stared back at you unamused.

“Right. Well I’m currently packing all my books, clothes, whatever. If you could like, pull apart the table and chairs that would be incredible.”

Van nodded and slid out of his jacket. He threw it down on top of a box and pushed up his sleeves before turning to the dining table. You could tell he was a little confused about where to start and what to do but you just watched as he pottered about. It was cute. His face quickly turned to a look of concentration as he sorted through the tool box you had beside it. He began to take out the screws in a chair bit by bit. It was only Ikea stuff so not too difficult.

Something about seeing him be so...domestic…caused memories of your relationship to resurface. Things that you’d not thought about in a long time, that were as good as buried in your mind, suddenly floated to the top.

Stunned at your own thoughts, you quickly shook yourself and moved to the corner where you had your phone plugged into the speakers on the floor. You clicked play on your spotify and looked over to Van who smiled once he heard the music start.

You and Van spent the next couple of hours singing and dancing while loading up boxes with possessions and bits of disassembled furniture. Goofing around together was fun and your worries seemed to fade away. And it was good to hear his singing voice again. Something you used to love was how he’d sing around the house or in the shower, or just specially to you. It was something that always made you felt comforted.

The packing was almost done and you both began to drag boxes outside and downstairs ready to be packed into your car. God knows how that was going to work either. You and Van were absolutely exhausted.

“How about I get us some drinks?” Van offered, leaning down with his hands on his knees to get his breath back.

“I love that idea. Bring them upstairs?”

Van nodded and you turned to go back up. You still had to pack the kitchen crockery in bubble wrap. You laughed to yourself as you heard Homesick playing from the speaker as you walked back through your door. Spotify must have gotten to the Catfish section of your songs list. You’d not listened to Catfish in ages; you had no reason to. It was kind of weird to listen to your ex’s band? But you’d forgotten how good they were and how catchy the songs were too. You began to throw yourself around not dissimilarly to how Van would, singing along to his lyrics as well.  

By the time Van came back carrying a tray of cold, icy ciders you were swaying your hips to the beat of Cocoon and singing along loudly as you rolled a mug up in bubble wrap, unaware that he had returned and was staring at you from the doorway.

“Well, that’s the cutest fuckin’ thing I’ve ever seen,” Van grinned once the song had finished, making you jump with fright.

“Jesus…lucky I didn’t drop that,” you hissed and your cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

He looked at the mug and cringed before mouthing ‘sorry’. Van placed the tray down on the kitchen bench then handed you a cider.

“And not to be ‘that guy’ but you were singin’ the words wrong,” he laughed, his voice laced with smugness.

“Well sorrrryyy, bit out of practice. Been a while since I’ve been to a show, see,” you teased with an eye roll.

“You should come to the next one we have around here, I’ll put you on the list.”

Silence fell between you and Van as you gulped down your drinks, refreshed by the coldness of the liquid after your hard work. You met Van’s gaze and he held eye contact for a little too long. He placed his drink down and leant against the counter.

“Look y/n, I was goin’ to say it before but chickened out. I know I said I’ll wait, but it’s killin’ me. I need to know. Will you be with me?”

Van’s sudden admission floored you. Your eyes opened wide and your jaw dropped slightly. You must have looked as though you’d just seen a ghost.

“I don’t know Van,” you whispered. His face fell.

He took the cider glass from your hand putting it with his and stood close to you, placing a hand on your waist. You wriggled out of his grip and crumpled down to the floor with your back against the cupboard beneath the sink. You sat with your knees to your chest, like a child.

You knew, deep down, that your feelings for Van were there. That they’d laid dormant for a long time. If you’d never seen him again after your breakup, you could have gone your whole life without ever thinking of them. But you hadn’t; yours and Van’s lives kept overlapping and you were brought together again and again. Apart from that having to mean something, it awoke the feelings for him that you’d forgotten and then desperately tried to ignore.

“I don’t know,” you repeated.

Van fell to his knees in front of you and placed both hands on your legs.

“What do I do, y/n?” he pleaded, looking broken.

You wanted to be with Van, you did. In that moment you decided you did, theoretically. But this was not a fantasy. This was real life. The life that had driven you apart before. The life that had become so hard to deal with apart from each other for months on end. How could it work when you’d tried before and knew you were doomed to fail? You didn’t want to be heartbroken over Van McCann yet again.

You didn’t altogether understand his feelings for you either. Why and how had he so suddenly gone from being your friend, to wanting you back so desperately he’d beg? All of these thoughts and questions scared you.

“You need to leave Van,” you said suddenly, pushing him away.

Van’s face contorted into an expression of pain and confusion. He tried to pull you close again but when you wouldn’t budge, he stood up and went to take his coat. You felt sick to the stomach and couldn’t look at him, you knew you were being cruel.

“Call me if you change your mind,” he said solemnly before disappearing out your door, letting it slam behind him.

You threw yourself down on your bed that was now a mattress on the floor and let out an ocean of tears. What the fuck were you doing. You were so angry with yourself and you genuinely didn’t know what to do. Torn between hiding from potential heartbreak or just saying ‘fuck it’ and giving in.

In an attempt to distract yourself, you finished off the last bits of packing. You were staying with a friend for a few days until you could move into the new place. At least that was one thing sorted. Next, you returned the glasses and half-drunk ciders to the pub, sticking around to chat with the bartenders for a bit.

But of course, the distractions weren’t working. Back in your room, you sat down on your bed legs crossed and lip nervously bitten between your teeth. Your phone lay on the duvet at your feet and you stared at it for a long time. You weren’t sure how long; could have been minutes, could have been hours. ‘Call me if you change your mind’, Van had said. The problem was that you couldn’t make it up in the first place. With a rough groan, you pushed the phone away and flopped down onto your back, throwing your hands over your face.

After a moment, you picked up your phone and clicked back into spotify. Van’s voice echoed out of the speakers once again, hitting you right in the chest. What if he had been right when he’d said that maybe you’d fucked up by ending things? What if it worked this time? You had a home and a stable job now. He was used to his lifestyle, he’d grown up. Things were different, as much as you tried to tell yourself they weren’t.

Your mind tracked over the last year, to all the moments where you and Van had been pulled back together. You couldn’t explain it, but it felt right and you’d always known it. No matter where you were or who you were with, Van was what lay at the bottom of it all. Whether that was getting you home safely after one too many, shaking hands with your shitty ex-boyfriend when he shouldn’t have had to, or being your rock in a time of need. Not to mention all the drinks and laughs in between.

You loved Van. You didn’t want to be without him.

In a blind panic and rush of urgency, you grabbed your phone once again and shakily stopped the music before finding Van’s contact and pressing ‘call’. Your heart was beating rapidly and your skin began to turn clammy. Your breath caught in your throat more and more with each passing dial tone.

“Y/n?”

You froze. This should have been the simplest of calls, but you had no idea where to begin.

“I…”

“I know,” he said softly. You let out a deep breath and rested your forehead in your hand. Tears began to spill from your eyes.

“I’m so sorry Van,” you cried into the phone. “I want you. And I need you, I wish I hadn’t ruined things.”

“You haven’t y/n. You haven’t at all,” he soothed.

Your heart rate began to slow at his words and Van let you calm down before he said anything else.

“I’m so fucking glad you called,” he admitted once you’d stopped crying. He sounded as relieved as you felt.  

“Me too,” you whispered. You wish you could hold him right now, bury your face in his chest. Kiss him.

There were a few moments of silence between you. Neither of you were ever that good at talking on the phone anyway.

“God, it really does take us to the eleventh hour doesn’t it?” Van laughed in a tone of frustrated disbelief.

“Are you quoting the Bible?!”

“What? Just mean last minute…somethin’ Dad says.”

You chuckled and nodded, forgetting he couldn’t see. Your mind was in a dizzy haze from feeling too many different things at once. After listening to each other’s breath down the phone for a few seconds, Van spoke, his tone back to its usual bounce.

“Well shall I come over then? Get them boxes in the car?”

[i-choose-liam]

April Come She Will - A TRR AU fanfic

Summary: What if Liam was a commoner, unburdened with propriety and a horde of duties towards an entire country? What if he was born with the freedom he so longed for, and could go for the woman he wanted without a care in the world? If he was free to pursue his passions and desires, what kind of a lover and man he would be? An Alternate Universe fic set in the USA, where Liam, a commoner, meets and falls for a writer, April.

A/N: I hadn’t envisioned this to be a story about friendship, but it’s turning out to be so. And I can’t say I mind. There will be romance, of course (come on, it’s me who’s writing this), and it will be a sort of slow burn in Liam and April’s case. God, I hate those. But writing this is fun! Let me know what you think of this chapter. Thanks!

Tag list: If I have forgotten to put anyone’s url here, please remind me. And if you want off the tag list, all you have to do is let me know. Thanks! @kennaxval​ @thatspicegirlssong​ @lizzybeth1986​ @bowful​ @indescribablechoices​ @femmeshep​ @zaffrenotes​ @hopefulmoonobject​

Book: The Royal Romance

Pairing: Liam x Original Female Character

Rating: T

Characters: Liam, Hana Lee, Maxwell Beaumont, Drake Walker, Original characters, and an adorable golden retriever named Sir Arthur.

Chapter 1: Belle of the Boulevard

Chapter 2: Friends

Chapter 3: Hey Tomorrow

Normally, Drake wouldn't have bothered making fancy breakfast for his two friends. But they had been let down after yet another apartment hunt. Since they were both sleeping the disappointment off, Drake supposed he could make something nice to cheer them up. He was in a pretty good mood... before Maxwell burst into the kitchen with his morning mofo energy. "Drake!" He sighed. "What?" "You're not going to believe what I'm about to tell you!" "Your pigeon buddy won't come to the window anymore?" Maxwell said, "I saw Buckbeak just a while ago. But that's not what I am talking about" Drake put away the broken eggshells, asking, "What are you talking about?" Maxwell said, sounding dystopian, "April is not on any social media" "So?" That appalled Maxwell. He exclaimed, "So it's weird and unnatural!" Drake said, "Hey. I'm not on any social media either" "Exactly my point!" He turned to give Maxwell a reproachful look, but the man was rambling. "I didn't even know her last name until yesterday. But then I picked up Liam's Kindle last night and I saw he was reading lesbian erotica. I was like, um... okay. Whatever rocks your boat. Then I saw the writer's name - April Costas! That's why Liam was reading erotica! So I did a little digging of my own. She's not on any social media sites. Doesn't that bother you?" Drake gently pushed him aside, reaching for powdered sugar. He said, "What bothers me is that you two spent your night snooping on a girl. I can understand Liam doing it, he likes her. But you are being you again" Maxwell grinned, "Sparkling and joyful?" "Nosy and annoying" 

Liam came into the kitchen, greeting them both with a "good morning". He asked Drake, "Need any help with breakfast?" "No, I got it. You and the Daily Mail here can sit at the table" Maxwell received a sympathetic smile from Liam. He sat down next to him, not quite meeting Liam in the eye. "Why are you name-calling him this early in the morning?", Liam asked Drake. He replied, "Why don't you ask him?" "Maxwell?" Maxwell fidgeted with his fingers, replying, "Well, I... I googled April last night" "Okay?" "She's not on any social media" "I didn't know that" Maxwell asked, "You're not mad at me?" Liam smiled, "Why would I be mad? You can google whoever you want" Drake set two plates before them on the table, saying, "If you two ladies are done having a heart to heart, eat up" The plates were piled with golden French toast, with powdered sugar sprinkled on top. Maxwell's face lit up at the sight of the food. "Yum!", he said. Liam smiled at that reaction and turned to Drake, "Thank you, Drake. This is rather nice of you" "Don't get used to it", Drake smiled. Liam cut a piece of toast for himself. His fork and knife were met with some resistance. 'Strange' He had to apply a little pressure to slice the supposedly soft and fluffy toast. Before putting the morsel in his mouth, he glanced at Maxwell. Maxwell gave him a pained look, his jaws moving around the food in his mouth, like giant cogs on an industrial machine. Liam threw caution to the wind and put the piece of French toast in his own mouth. It was... chewy and bland. But he didn't complain. Next to him, Maxwell whispered, "My teeth are starting to hurt" "Sshh" Sadly for them, they hadn't noticed Drake glaring at them from next to the kitchen stove. He scowled. "What? My food isn't fancy enough for you two freeloaders?" They immediately disagreed. Liam said, "No, no. It's lovely" Maxwell nodded, "Yeah. Really... edible" Drake watched him carefully for a moment before turning back to the stove again. Maxwell whispered, "Where's Sir Arthur? He must be hungry" Liam whispered back, "You're not feeding my dog this. Eat" Drake returned to the table, with French toast piled high in two more plates. Maxwell and Liam gave him their best grateful smiles.

***

April dabbed at her mouth with a paper napkin, having just made clean work of her empanadas. Her agent sat across from her in the red chair, matching the theme of the deli. She ignored their piercingly observant gaze and looked around for a waiter. 'Maybe I can get those little pita wraps' Joel said, their voice crisp as cold water, "You're stress-eating again" April made a face. "I'm not!", she said. "Come on, April. Is it really going to be that difficult for you to maintain a social media presence? All writers have to do that" "I know they do. I am just not..." They said, "Comfortable putting my life details out there for everyone to see - heard that before. I'm not asking you to post nudes. Just... maybe one tweet, one pic, one status update every other day" "But Joel..." "Listen", they leaned forward, the cuffs of their coat sleeves revealing slender wrists, "When I take Porcelain Palace to my contacts in Hollywood, they are going to be like, "April who?". You are virtually non-existent. And your silly website where you review people's fanfiction doesn't count" April leaned back in her chair, folding her arms over her chest. Joel went on, despite the look on her face. "This business is as much about image as it is about storytelling. I told you that when you hired me" They gave April a nurturing smile. "I just don't want your work to be sidetracked in Hollywood. Porcelain Palace deserves to be made into a movie. We need that movie in our time. And I am not going to stop until that happens. Are you?" She mumbled, "No" "We agree then. You will sign up on the sites I just emailed you, and start posting" "Urgh" "Don't be dramatic. And stop stuffing your face. You're going to look like a rikishi soon if you keep at this" "I eat what I want. And I already got my 10k footsteps in today, all right?" "Good", Joel placed some dollar bills on the table and got up, buttoning their coat jacket, "I'll see you in exactly one week. Call me if you need me" "Yeah. Thanks" "Anything for my favourite person" Joel leaned over and planted a kiss on the top of her head. April smirked. "Want to tell Shirin you called me that?" They gave her a stunning grin, walking away, "That's the beauty of being in a mature poly relationship. I don't have to worry about jealousy. Good day, April" She raised her hand in half a wave, sighing, and dropping it the moment Joel was out of sight.

Her social skills had been a big joke since kindergarten. Her mistrust of people in general, coupled with a strong sense of privacy, kept her shielded from the allure of "social sharing". But Joel was trying to create an image for her, and they knew what they were talking about. Problem was - it made April feel hungry again. Her phone buzzed. She saw who the text was from and smiled in surprise. 'Hello, April! Not sure if you remember, but you saved me from a horrendous date at the Whiskey Duck? It's Hana' April quickly texted back. 'Of course I remember. It's great to hear from you! How have you been?' She sat in the small deli during lunch hours, typing away letters and emojis to a welcome distraction.

***

Drake was losing to Maxwell in that stupid kart game when his phone buzzed. He ignored it, but it only buzzed again. "Pause", he said. Maxwell grinned, "Nuh-uh. I'm winning" Drake thought he had no option but to end the race. He swore as Maxwell beat him by a hair's breadth. Ignoring his friend's victory break-dance, he checked his phone. 'What the fuck?' He was part of some chat called Whiskey Ducks. The first text had been from a number he didn't know. 'Hi guys, it's Hana! I just thought this would be a fun and convenient way for me to talk to you all at once :D' The next text was from another unfamiliar number. 'Hello. April here. :)' Drake was still making sense of the thing when a third text was sent in the group. This number he did recognise. 'Yoohoo! Its so great to be able to talk to my friends together! Viva la technology! ^_^' The text was followed by a gif of the Minions hugging and saying "Buddies".   "Maxwell!" He nearly jumped on hearing his name. "What?" Drake frowned, showing him the phone screen, "What the hell am I doing in a group text?" Maxwell defended himself, "Hana wanted me to add you and Liam" "IN A GROUP TEX..." The door to Drake's apartment swung open and Liam came in. He closed the door behind him, giving the guys a nod. "Hey", he said. Maxwell quickly turned his attention to Liam. He asked, "How did it go?" "It is affordable, if you don't mind living with rats" "Wait. Cute rats or the creepy ones?" Liam sighed, "Maxwell" He deposited himself on the couch between Drake and Maxwell, much to the latter's relief. Drake was complaining within seconds of Liam's butt hitting the couch. "Look what your precious buddy did. He added us to a group text" "Keep your calm..." "What do you mean 'keep your calm'? He didn't even ask us!" Liam pinched the bridge of his nose, muttering, "I wasn't talking to you" Maxwell took that as encouragement to speak up. He said, "There's no harm done. Hana just wanted to invite all of us to Coney Island" Drake said, "I don't want to go to stupid Coney Island. And how did you get Hana's number anyway?" Maxwell revealed with a happy smile, "I added her on pinterest. She has the coolest boards. Especially her food board. Oh my god"

Liam pulled out his phone from the pocket of his jeans, rubbing his sore temples. The apartment hunt and the current state of his job were enough to fill his head with worry. Drake and Maxwell's constant bickering was just the cherry on top of a steaming pile of crap. "You always do this!" "And you always give me hell about it!" They fought, one on each side of Liam. He could feel a headache coming on. But his entire facial expression transformed on seeing who else was in the group chat. Hana said, 'I wanted to invite you all to Coney Island with me. As a thank you for that evening. It will be super fun, I promise!' April replied, 'You don't have to thank us' 'But I really want to! And it's not like I have any friends in New York to enjoy Coney Island with :3 ' April is typing... 'When do you want to go?' Liam smiled. April was such a knight in shining armour. 'How about tomorrow?', Hana suggested. Maxwell is typing... 'Tomorrow's good for meee! I have nothing to do tomorrow' Liam was surprised to see - Drake is typing... 'Like everyday' Maxwell replied with a sad puppy face gif. April is typing... 'Is it okay if I bring my friend Jenna along?' 'Sure! The more, the merrier', Hana said. Reading Jenna's name, both Liam and Maxwell turned to look at Drake. He tried to seem nonchalant, "What?" Liam shrugged. "Just wondering if you can make it tomorrow. You have a thriving business to attend to, you know. Unlike me and Maxwell, who have nothing to do everyday" "Yeah!", Maxwell grinned. Drake glared at Liam, saying, "Why do you always take his side? I'm your best friend!" Maxwell objected to that. "Hey! We are all best friends!" Their phones buzzed again. Hana asked, 'So guys? Does tomorrow afternoon work for you?' Maxwell replied with an enthusiastic yes. Drake replied, 'Ok' Liam had his eyes on April's name in the group text as he typed, 'Can't wait'

[crazyfreckledginger]

Seth Gecko x Reader - “The Badass And The Innocent”

Seth spends some time in a library with a nice girl after he had to hide whilst the cops were out looking for him. Unfortunately, after some very interesting conversation with her, he is forced to take her hostage when the police finally finds him. If that wasn’t an issue before, it will soon become one once he starts having emotions he only felt with his ex-wife.

Requested by anon: “ Can you please do where Seth Gecko where he falls for the reader whom he has kidnapped. The reader is a book nerd and kind of geek as well but she’s also kind of insecure.”

“Hello, can I help you?” I asked, thankful that I didn’t become nervous all of a sudden.

“Hmm, yes, a coffee and,” He clicked his tongue as he looked over me, a smirk tugging at his lips. 

“Your number.” I smiled shyly, tilting my head in an attempt to keep a poker face on before striding towards the counter.

*******

He paced down the street hurriedly, a couple of cops had recognised him so he decided to make a run for it. The road he had ended up on was very long. So he decided to hide in the nearest store. He took a turn in a library.

Casually walking through it, he sat down at an empty table that was well shielded by the tall shelves filled with books. He released a breath as he distinguished the police officers run right past the shop. He sat back in the chair until his gaze landed on the same girl that had served him coffee. 

She was attentively reading a book, like she was in her own bubble, immersed by the lines on its numerous pages, not paying any attention at the people around her. He stared at her for a few more seconds before deciding to go up to her. He slid into the chair beside her.

“We meet again, it’s almost like fate!” He chuckled, putting his arm on her chair. She immediately tensed up at the familiar voice. Her gaze turned slowly to him as she set her book down.

“What are you doing here?” She asked, slightly irritated.

“Came to see you.” He smiled innocently at her.

“You stalked me?” She asked, acting like she was scared shit-less when she was actually teasing him.

“What no!! I was joking earlier- I meant that-” he stopped talking as she burst out laughing.

“I’m just messing with you,” she chuckled, still trying to suppress her laughter.

"Oh," He cleared his throat, looking at the ground in embarrassment.

"How about we start over," I chuckled.

"Yeah, that would be better." He smiled, scratching his beard.

*****

They conversed for a solid hour, never losing any sort of passion in their conversation until it was time for her to leave.

"I should head home," She sighed as she gazed at the muted TV that was in a secluded area of the library. The fact that there was a TV in this library always raised questions within her. Every single time she would step inside the building and yet it seemed that Seth, as she had learned his name, had not even noticed the huge TV directly in front of them. 

Once, she even thought she was hallucinating. She shook her head as the random thought appeared in her head. Was she nervous? Is that why the most bizarre things would pop into her head? She didn't know. As she stood up after saying her goodbyes to Seth, she picked up her bag from the seat. The door of the library opened and two sets of footsteps echoed inside the small building. 

She peered at Seth, his eyes widening once his gaze fell on the two people that had strolled in. 

"I'm sorry for this," He mumbled once the cops saw him and pulled their guns out. He proceeded suit, pulling the girl he had gotten to know for an hour to his chest and pointing his weapon to the police.

"Put your gun down," The female officer ordered.

"No," He grunted, scanning behind him for an exit, he silently praised himself at the staff only door, probably the back door when the workers can take a smoke.  

"Follow me and she dies," He informed, hoping he didn't have to kill her. He walked backwards, pulling (Y/N) with him, kicking the back door open, nearly making it fall off of its hinges. The cops had not moved, knowing not to press a criminal's buttons when it came to a civilian's life. 

Once they were out, he made a run for it, pulling (Y/N) by her arm, knowing that he would not be able to escape the cops without a hostage. He barged into his car, pushing (Y/N) in the backseat before driving off as fast as he could.

*****  

"Look, I'm really sorry that I had to take you but I didn't have much of a choice," He tried to defend, running a hand in his now messy hair as he kept his eyes fixated on the road. He glanced back at me in the rearview mirror, only seeing my unreadable face. 

For the entire ride, I didn't mutter a word. Part of me felt betrayal, another felt fear of what he might do to me since he betrayed me he became unpredictable. But a very small part of me had a positive vibe. 

He was caring, he wasn't the usual cold-hearted killer. He used people to get what he wants, making sure to make it seem like he is hurting anyone that crossed his path to harm the public. But he wouldn't physically or mentally harm his hostages, he made sure of it. And that's what made him different from any other criminal on police record- to my knowledge anyway.

******

We soon pulled up in a garage.

"We're here," He sighed, opening his door and coming on my side, helping me gracefully out of the car.

"You're back brother," A foreign voice chuckled. We turned around, seeing another, taller man in a tuxedo with glasses and slicked back hair. And then it clicked. I was so oblivious to it before. They're the Gecko Brothers, no wonder Seth hadn't told me his last name and I knew he looked vaguely familiar. I should really start watching the news outside of the occasional visit to my parents in addition to keeping my head in books in my free time.

"And who's she?" He looked down at me. 

"She's going to be brought back home," Seth answered, pushing my back as he directed us to a small empty room. 

"Look, first I want to apologise....again, for kidnapping you." He explained, a look in his eyes that screamed sincereness. My jaw clenched, looking away from him as I hugged myself, feeling his piercing gaze on me. Once he realised my reaction due to his stare, he looked away, waiting for me to say anything.

"I guess I forgive you," I grumbled. His eyes snapped up, not expecting my statement. He was completely taken aback, trying to form words but simply looking like a fish in need of air.

"You forgiv-"

"Well, I guess any criminal would need an escape plan whatever the circumstance is, even if that escape is a girl he talked to for an hour." I clarified, giving him a slight smile. He smiled back in response before asking.

"Are you hungry? I'm sure we have food somewhere." 

~3 months later~

"(Y/N), Seth needs you, again," Richie sighed as he threw me a handkerchief from the table.

"Of course he does," I muttered, catching it with ease before walking to Eddie.

"What did he do now?" I mumbled. 

"He said he needs you," He informed, pulling the piece of cloth out of my hand. My eyebrows furrowed at the gesture.

"Seth doesn't need stitching up, he just wanted to talk to you."  

"And why didn't he come get me himself without having his brother get me?" I asked.

"He lied to him because he knew Richie would tease him."

"Why would he tease him?" 

"You're both lovesick puppies but you're so oblivious to each other's feelings," Eddie scoffed in amusement. 

"Wait, what-"

"(Y/N)," Seth voice greeted as he grabbed my arm and pulled me away from Eddie to another room, but not before sending him a glare.

****

"So what did you want to talk about?" I asked him, crossing my arms over my chest.

"I-um," He started, he reluctantly met my eyes before glancing at my lips.

"Fuck it," He cursed, grabbing my face and slamming his lips to mine. I gasped in response, grasping his arms but quickly kissed back. As soon as we parted from the kiss, we stared at each other awkwardly. 

"Do you-maybe-want to get a coffee or something?" He asked, clearing his throat multiple times in the process.

"That sounds nice," I smiled shyly at him.

Comments and reblogs are deeply appreciated!

Want to be tagged? Ask Away or add your URL to the taglist!

Tagging: @lumifuer @plethora-of-things @xlatinaaxx @ijustwantmyshipstobehappy

[swiftsuncharted]

hey taylor,
my name is millie, i’m 18 and live in england. you have meant the world to me for 8 years now, and i wouldn’t have it any other way. i’m much funnier on twitter, and better at it, so if you ever felt like stalking (👀) then nathndrakes is the place to go. love story was the first song i heard of yours when i was 9 years old and the music video for it was shown on disney channel. weirdly, that memory is still so vivid to me and i remember the way i immediately looked you up on youtube on my dad’s old crappy computer. i was lucky enough to attend manchester speak now, one of the red london shows and manchester and hyde park shows for 1989 — and in june i got to see you 4 times on your UK tour, which was incredibly magical and made june the absolute best month ever. pictured above are the signs and costumes we created, which got an overwhelming amount of love on social media, and we were recognised at the shows quite a few times which was ?!?! AMAZING?!? so if you never saw them, here they are! :) i gave my letter to a member of your team at rep tour london after the show - i don’t know if you got it, but it said a lot of what you’ve done for me. i’m part of a group chat called the pretty bunch made up of me and my friends caroline, nazgol, laura, lucy and hannah, who i met through you in july 2014. their urls are below and they’re in the second picture. laura is pictured on the phone caroline is holding cause she couldn’t make it to the last meetup rip. 4 years of being friends and we’ve only managed at max a 5/6 meetup. also the group name is a joke, we aren’t narcissists, promise). i attended a few rep tour dates with a few of them, which, after so many years of friendship, was incredible. :) olivia is in the fourth picture, and we’ve been talking since october 2014, bonding over our mutual love of you. we’ve met up loads of times and i’m so thankful that she’s in my life. i got to finally see you with her in manchester and london! i know all of my friends from being on twitter and having a fan account for you, and i really can’t express how grateful i am that we did - my dream is to one day meet you with them. 💗
you have kept me going through so, so much. i know you probably hear it all the time - of course you do, you’re the most wonderful human being - but you have been a constant shining light in my life through the worst parts of it. i would go into detail but some of it is too personal for tumblr - so i really hope that one day i’ll be able to tell you in person, or message you, all about the ways in which you’ve helped me and changed my life. i love you so much, and i will always, always be by your side, just as you’ve been by mine.
holy ground is the song that means the most to me by far, particularly the line “tonight i’m gonna dance for all that we’ve been through, but i don’t wanna dance if i’m not dancing with you”. its kind of become my legacy amongst my mutuals on twitter, and people often associate it with me, which i love. it’s empowering and inspiring and literally one of your best songs ever so thank you for writing it and thank you for existing in general. it’s applied to my life many, many times, and has pulled me through so much. you mean the entire world to me. i can’t express it enough. i’ll probably never find the words to express it, but that’s okay because i think you understand. i’m gonna cut this off here cause this could end up being a Very Long Post and i’m sure there’s other things you could be doing right now. but just know that i love you endlessly, i’m immensely proud of you, and i am so incredibly thankful that you exist and that you’ve given me so many friendships, memories and songs that will resonate with me forever. love you, always. more info about me (as if i didn’t ramble enough here): 
twitter.com/nathndrakes holyground.carrd.co/
personal insta: instagram.com/milliespeakmans

the pretty bunch’s tumblrs: 
lucy: @paintingmeinindigo 
 caroline: @still-got-scars
 hannah: @listentohertalkaboutbooks
 laura: @gilmoreswifts
 nazgol: @you-fit-my-poems

olivia’s tumblr: @swifturies

@taylorswift 💛