#to the point where our mum complains about the exact thing we do where we worry people think we're just making it all up | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

bakubub · 3 years ago

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In which Racer!Kuroo is your roommate and you finally learn more about him...

Warnings: Mentions of loss of loved one, disregard for own life, swearing, innuendos and implied nsfw (but sfw overall), fem!reader with she/her pronouns.

A/N: Idek what this is. Its literally a 4.6 k mixture of fluff, angst and comfort... I rewrote this like 4 times :,) being a perfectionist is so,,, tiring.

This takes part shortly after this, you can definitely read this without reading the 'part 1' if you will, since they don't depend on one another.

Art belongs to @aikk00 ,, and yes I am still in love with it :D

I stumble out of the lecture hall, my eyes so heavy I bump into about 3 other students and mumble my apologies until I fully wake up and snap out of my daze.

Walking down the stairs and making my way to the bus stop, I watch in horror as the bus I was supposed to be in drives off, going fast for once in its damn life as if mocking me.

Inhaling sharply through my nose, I manage to keep my composure and sit down at the bus stop, telling myself the next bus will be here in a bit.

It's fine. It's fine. I slept through the lecture, and I still have to catch up on 4 subjects and make dinner, but at least the house is clean and I'm caught up in that one subject I picked up for this exact reason.

It's fine. It's going to be just fi-

The rumble of a loud engine breaks my shitty but somewhat effective self-reassurance motto and I open my eyes to see a black and red sports car going 60 km/h in a 30 zone, effectively getting mine and everyone else's attention.

I watched in horror for the second time today as this time it stopped right in front of the bus stop. No, no, no, no.

No.

Please no.

He rolls down the passenger window with that ridiculous hair and a shit-eating grin, as he nods towards the seat, revving his engine.

I look away, pretending he's not looking directly at me and that I don't live with the guy, which I immediately regretted when he beeped the fucking horn.

What did I do to deserve this humiliation?

I hastily put my head down as he beeped it again, giving up and rushing towards his insufferable car, getting into the passenger seat and slumping in my seat to keep my head down low.

"What is wrong with you? What are you even doing here?" I hiss, my glaring up at him from my awkward, folded position.

He laughs, and when I hear the sound of a photo being taken in the split second I looked away to readjust my bag, I sit up straight, watching him continue speeding as he stuffs his phone into his pocket.

"Are. You. Trying. To. Kill. Me?!" I ask, my voice little less than a screech as I slap his arm with each word.

"Ow, ow, I just came to pick my roomie up! I sensed you needed a ride, and this is the thanks I get?" he asks, that smirk I have come to hate returning to grace his features.

I glare at him, but a small, sleep-deprived part of my brain is distracted by his appearance. A tight black tee adorning his built figure, his biceps are on display as he drives with one hand, the other resting on the gear shift. The air from his rolled down window is ruffling his hair this way and that, and I find myself wanting to run my hands through the raven strands, just as I had when I washed his hair that one time...

"Wait- how the fuck did you know I didn't have a ride?" I ask incredulously, my reaction time clearly delayed but here nonetheless.

I narrow my eyes as he hesitates before he answers, "I just knew, ok? It's not like it’s astrodynamics, not that I can't figure that out too."

"Kuroo, what the hell is astrodynamics? Are you like, spying on me or something?" I ask, pretending to look out the window so as to not get distracted by his appearance once more.

"What do you common folk call it? Rocket science?" He says, once again exceeding the speed limit.

"If I'm a commoner, does that make you a peasant? Also, stop going so fast, I feel sick and I do not feel like dying today."

He rolls his eyes in response as he slows down by a smidgen, the speed meter barely even moving. "Seriously, you may have no consideration for yourself, but I still have a lot of things to achieve with my damn life so slow the fuck down." My words finally reach the rational part in him and he slows down considerably, now going within the speed limit.

Taking a deep breath, I rest my elbow on my door and look out the window, my mind flooding with thoughts about Kuroo's reckless driving and how it can all go sour with one delayed reaction.

Before I know it, we're rolling up to our apartment building, driving into his private garage only the penthouse owners get to use.

"I'm sorry," he mutters, filling the silence in the car.

"It's ok. I just... I want you to be safe. I know its hard, but... just try," I say quietly, unable to look at him.

"That's what he said," he says hastily before rushing out of the car before I can hit him.

Getting out of the vehicle myself, I send a murderous look his way and run after his retreating form.

A small part of me is grateful that he's acting like his usual unbearable self again, but the rest of me is just mad at his relentless sex jokes.

He hits the elevator button before I can get there and I watch the doors close, his smirk practically shining through the crack of the closing doors. I jam my foot in the middle at the last possible second, and smile victoriously as I get into the metal box and slap his arm once again.

"Ooh, do it harder," he practically moans, and my eyes just about pop out of their sockets in embarrassment as my face flushes a deep red.

"Oh shut up," I mutter, turning around and waiting patiently for the doors to open on the top floor. I hear him snicker and then the sound of a photo being taken, turning around sharply. I yell in defiance and throw my bag on the floor as I jump onto him in an attempt to grab his phone out of his hand and delete the probably unflattering photo.

I straddle his back and reach for the phone he easily holds out of my reach. Leaning across his shoulder in a feeble attempt to reach it, my feet are hooked around his chest and my other hand is using his shoulder as a brace. He's laughing hard at this point, and I'm screaming at him to give me the damn phone. Neither of us notice the elevator doors opening nor the small woman standing at the threshold staring at us in shock and amusement.

"Kuroo Tetsuro! You let that poor girl down this instant, young man!"

We both froze at the authoritative voice, slowly turning to look at a small dark haired woman with a straight shoulder length cut and narrow gold eyes that were glaring at the man under me.

"MUM!" He exclaims, setting me down and running to hug and kiss the woman, his mum apparently. "What are you doing here?" I hear him ask as I straighten myself out, fixing my jumper and tucking my hair behind my ears, picking up my bag off the floor and quickly following them out of the elevator.

"What, a mother needs an excuse to come visit her boys? Where's Kenma?" She asks, looking in the elevator again as if to check if she missed him.

"Oh, he's at his own place. Apparently he has a booked in session with this famous gamer today. Did he say he'd be here?" Kuroo asks, letting go of the woman and leaning on the wall.

"No, I didn't tell anyone I was coming to visit. Never mind that, who's this pretty young lady here, hmm?" She asks, raising a perfectly shaped brow as she walks towards me, the click of her heels echoing in the lobby of the penthouse.

I smiled down at her, since she was considerably shorter than even me, and introduced myself. "It's very nice to meet you, Mrs. Kuroo." I say, bowing.

"Oh no, no, none of that. You can call me mum too, hmm?" She says, gesturing me up from my bow and pulling me down for a tight hug.

"Oh, um, actually, me and Kuroo aren't-"

"We’ll talk more comfortably inside, no? Tetsuro, is your plan to let me stand here all day?” She asks, letting me go and turning around to look at Kuroo.

Kuroo leaps into action, taking his mum's bag and unlocking the door, helping her out of her heels and leading her into the spotless penthouse.

It was all I could do to nod in response, closing the door behind us and walking down into the kitchen to prepare a meal.

It’s crazy how much I don’t know about this guy. He’d never mentioned his mother before, and briefly mentioned that he has a sister, whether older or younger I have no idea. Kenma, however, I know well. The guy was here all the time when I first started living here, but recently I've seen him less and less. Which is a shame, considering we actually got along quite well, with sharing eye rolls and bonding over our mutual love of Minecraft.

I don't notice silent footsteps following me until Kuroo's Mother says "now, why's a beautiful girl like yourself slaving away in the kitchen? Does that boy make u do all the cooking and cleaning like some mid-century housewife?"

I poke my head out of the fridge, smiling at her fair assumptions, "no, no, it's not like that at all. I actually-"

"Uh, mum! You know I'm incompetent with this stuff. This place would be a mess if she wasn't here to run things! Plus, she loves to cook and finds cleaning therapeutic. Hey, her words not mine," Kuroo quickly jumps in, putting his hands up defensively when she looks at him with a raised brow.

Looks like he doesn't want his mother to know of our little arrangement.

"Right. He's just so hopeless, I can't trust him to do anything," I add on, sending her a smile as I prepare the fish he likes.

"You're making grilled mackerel for dinner?! Oh that's gonna hit the fu- the fun spot," he says, saving himself at the last second.

I hold back a snort as I take out a pan, "open the window, fish boy. It's about to stink here and I can't be bothered with Mrs. Suzuki coming all the way upstairs just to complain about the fish smell, and then complaining that she had to come up here in the first place. God, I hope she isn't sitting on the balcony today," I ramble, trying to see her balcony from outside the window, but fail because of the private location.

Damn these amazing architects.

I hear his mum chuckle at my rambling as she begins to take out ingredients for a salad. "Oh, you don't have to help, please sit and make yourself comfortable," I say, moving towards her to take the lettuce out of her hands.

"No, no, I'd like to pitch in. Now what kind of mother-in-law would I be to let you do everything yourself?" She asks, holding the lettuce away from me and walking over to the sink.

I stare at the back of her head, a flush creeping up my neck, "m-mother-in-law?!" I ask incredulously, glancing over at Kuroo who looked suspiciously... Smug. I look away quickly when he meets my eyes, and I hastily hyper-focus on the fish in front of me, placing it on the heated pan, causing sizzling and popping to fill the awkward silence.

"I'm sorry darling, I don't mean to be overbearing. Tetsuro introduced you as his girlfriend, so I thought things were getting serious since he actually allowed us to meet one another. You see, he’s never introduced me to a girl before, so you can imagine my excitement. I can stop if you're uncomfortable-"

I cut her off, feeling even more embarrassed as I realise the role I am to play in Kuroo's life when his mother is around. I mean, it makes sense, he can't exactly just admit he took a random girl into his house.

"I, um, no really it's fine, I understand" I say, my voice small as I flip the fish.

She lets out a delighted laugh and pulls me down into a hug once more. The smile on my face is genuine as my embarrassment melts away, the bright smile of this woman comforting me.

"So, how did you guys meet?" She asks, chopping up the ingredients for her salad on the bench while I'm at the stove, Kuroo leaning on his elbows on the bench.

"At uni," I answer at the same time as Kuroo states, "at a party."

We both look at each other with wide eyes, and I clear my throat to clarify, "at a uni party. A classmate of ours hosted one and we met each other there."

"I see, so the old boozed up one night stand turned into quite a domestic relationship hmm?" she suggests, wiggling her eyebrows at Kuroo.

"What? No, no, I would never! A one night stand? Booze? Please, what kind of man do you take me for?" Kuroo complains, looking offended.

I turn around towards the stove and roll my eyes. I've heard the rumours around campus, practically every girl in my lecture hall can testify to at least making out with the man. He really puts up a façade for his mum.

I hear the doorbell ring, and quickly take the fish off the stove to go answer it as Kuroo bickers with his mother about how innocent he really is.

"Hello? Who is it?" I ask, pressing the buzzer.

"Uh, hello? Is this Tetsu's place?" A deep voice answers. I look at the camera, seeing Kenma and a bunch of men about Kuroo's age looking confused. The one who answered is a guy with a blond mohawk and piercings adorning both ears.

"Yes, just give me a second," I reply. "Kuroo, I think Kenma and the rest of your friends are here? Should I let 'em up?" I shout out.

"Yeah let 'em in," he calls back. I press another button, letting them into the lobby.

I need to make more food.

Quickly taking out my frozen dumplings I stocked up for emergency dinners for days I couldn't be bothered to make anything better, I whip up a quick sauce, thinking I could split the fish and put it in the middle of the table so everyone can take their share.

"I do apologise darling, I let my Kenma know that I came to visit and he must have told the boys. I think they've all come to see me," Kuroo's mum confesses.

"You must be a very loved woman if they came all this way to see you. And it's no worries really, I'm always prepared for guests," I say, putting her at ease.

She beams at me as the door is banged loudly.

Kuroo mutters something about “rude assholes'' as he goes to open the door, a group of tall men making their way through the threshold.

"Hiya cap'ain," the mohawk guy says, patting Kuroo on the back. A tall, light brown haired man was next to greet him, then proceeded to exclaim "MUMMA KOZUME!!" and practically jumped onto the poor woman.

Wait, did he just say Kozume? Isn't Kenma's surname Kozume?

"Hey mum," Kenma greets, kneeling down to hug Kuroo's mum.

Who's mum is this lady?! I swear to god I'm going to go crazy.

"Hello hello everyone," A massive grey haired guy says, kissing Kuroo's mum on the cheek and hugging Kuroo.

The last guy to greet them is a tan guy with a buzz cut, and he does the same as his friend before.

"So Kuroo, when di'ja get yourself a girl, huh?" The grey haired guy asks, looking offended that he didn't know before now.

I raise my eyebrows as Kuroo just smiles guiltily. He introduces me to his friends and I wave hello, as they all begin to introduce themselves.

The grey haired guy says his name is Lev and that he's half Russian. A weird detail to include but interesting I guess.

The light brown haired man introduces himself as Yaku, and says that he was Kuroo's senpai back in high school.

"Yeah a demon senpai," Kuroo mutters in reply. My smile quickly turns into a grimace as Yaku jumps on him and they both start brawling on the floor, making a loud ruckus. A loud thumping can be heard from downstairs as Mrs. Suzuki starts to lose her mind and continues to bang the handle of her broom to her ceiling.

"Ugh, you morons upset Mrs. Suzuki! She's going to talk my ear off next time I see her..." I complain, grabbing a cushion and throwing it at the boys.

They flinch at my anger and quickly get up, muttering a quick apology. My glare softens as mohawk introduces himself as Yamamoto, and the tan guy says his name is Kai whilst vigorously shaking my hand.

"It's very nice meeting all of you. Dinner will be ready in a bit so please just make yourselves comfortable," I announce, making my way back into the kitchen.

The boys, all sporting grins, make their way to the living room and sit on the couches, man-spreading and slouching all over the place, one person taking up the usual spot for two.

I sigh, focusing on the dumplings in front of me.

I stiffen as I feel large hands on my waist, and a presence behind me. Visibly relaxing once I realise it's Kuroo, I turn around, his hands still resting on my hips, and his face nestled in the crook of my neck.

"Please just go along with it. We have to act like a couple if they're going to believe us," he mutters, his hot breath causing shivers to run up my spine.

I simply nod, instinctively placing my arms around his neck and running my fingers through his hair, something I've wanted to do since that day.

He groans into my neck, and I find myself holding my breath as I continue my hand movements.

"OI LOVEBIRDS! MUM SAYS THE DUMPLINGS ARE GONNA FUCKIN' STICK! Ow! Oh, sorry," I snatched my hands back from Kuroo, pushing his chest, my cheeks flushing in embarrassment.

What the fuck am I doing?!

I turn around back to the stove, mixing the dumplings in the boiling water as my thoughts race.

That felt too real, too much like a real relationship.

And way too addicting, apparently, since I already miss his close proximity.

The warmth on my waist disappears as I hear Kuroo running back into the living room.

"SHUT UP YOU MORON, THE DUMPLINGS ARE FINE!" I hear him scream, and then a loud thud as he presumably tackles whoever yelled at us to the ground.

I sigh as I hear Mrs. Suzuki's muffled thuds from downstairs in record time.

"You know I'm going to have to make Mrs. Suzuki some kind of apology cake because you boys can't sit down and act like adults," I complained, my arms crossed and an unimpressed expression on my face.

Lev and Yamamoto are on the floor playing some kind of Connect 4 game I've never seen before, while Kai looks to be having a deep conversation with Kuroo's mum, who is perched on the single arm chair like the queen she is.

Kenma is hogging the tv playing some kind of video game on Kuroo's ps5 (which I've hogged on more than one occasion), and Kuroo on the other hand has Yaku in a headlock.

He immediately lets go and apologises, and so does Yaku, who even bows in his regret.

I roll my eyes and shake my head at his mum, who just laughs, and I make my way back into the kitchen, setting food on the table and calling them in to eat.

After dinner, I find myself showered in compliments and not a bite of dinner leftover for tomorrow's lunch. Damn I'm good.

I served up cake I had already prepared from earlier along with fruits I washed and set on plates, and watched as that was eaten and finished before I even sat down. Kuroo's mum scolded the boys for poor manners, and they all apologised. Well, all except Kuroo, who just wiggled his pierced brows and winked at me.

I sit down on the floor next to the couch, since it was all occupied, and hear a dissatisfied sound coming from Kuroo's mum.

"Now, now, sweetheart. You don't have to be shy around me, just go on and take your usual seat next to Tetsuro," she says, nudging her head in Kuroo's direction, where the only vacant spot was literally his lap.

I look at her with wide eyes, even Kuroo seems taken aback by her suggestion, and all the boys are immaturely ‘oohing’ loudly as they laugh and make fun of us.

Kuroo makes a gesture for me to come next to him, so I hold back my heavy sigh, try my best to hide the flush on my face, and walk towards him, awkwardly perching on his knee.

He chuckles as he grabs my waist and pulls me flush towards his chest, my butt in the corner of the couch and my legs resting diagonally over his, so that my head is directly in the crook of his neck.

I hate to say it, but this is actually really damn comfortable.

Conversation has started up again, but it becomes secondary to the beat of his heart right under my ear, and my eyes start to get heavy as his scent and warmth lull me to a comfort that is beyond being awake and alert.

---

Kuroo's POV

"What a cute girl she is, Tetsu. I'm so glad you've found her. And now that you've got her, you better. Not. Let. Go." She says, slapping me on the arm with each word of her last sentence.

What is it with women and slapping me?

"Ok, ok, I know mum, I won't stuff this up. I promise," I respond, smiling at her.

"Ok, well, I'm staying over at Kenma's house. Ah, no objections. You've already got your hands full, and I don't want to be in the way of young love. Plus, I'd rather listen to Kenma's midnight streams than you two in the middle of the night," she says, not accepting my objections and giving me a knowing look. My face warms to what she's insinuating, and I mutter a quick, "it's not like that," as I duck my head into Y/n's shoulder.

By this time the boys have all left, Kenma's downstairs waiting in his car for his mum to come, but she insisted on staying back for a few minutes to talk to me.

Y/n fell asleep a while ago now, still nestled on my lap, her head on my shoulder and her figure keeping me warm.

"I know exactly how it is, my darling. I've seen how you two act, pretending to be in a relationship just so we don't ask any uncomfortable questions. I won't meddle in your life, I never did, Tetsuro. But I will give you advice I expect you to consider. Don't let her go. Neither of you were pretending about your feelings towards each other, let me tell you that much." She says, knowingly looking at me.

I look up in alarm, which quickly morphs into a nervous laugh. She's good, I'll give her that much.

But, can Y/n really mirror my feelings?

"Ok darling, better not leave Kenma waiting any longer. I'll visit again tomorrow, or you can come over to Kenma's, whichever you prefer as long as she comes along too. I want to get to know my future daughter-in-law better!!"

With that, the woman who took me in and treated me like her own left my home.

I look down at my roommate, taking in the way her lashes are long enough to brush against her face, the way her brows are just a tad bit asymmetrical, the stroke of her nose and the bend of her cupid's bow.

I can't help but bring my hand up to caress the side of her face, content to stay here forever.

Mum would've loved her.

This thought broke the dam that held back my tears since middle school, and as they fell down my face I couldn't help but think of my own mother, coming in and hugging her, making her famous pie that I can't remember the taste of anymore. A sob racks my figure and I all of a sudden find a pair of e/c eyes staring up at me, my tears having dampened some parts of her face.

Wordlessly, she straightens herself and wraps her arms around my neck, running her fingers through the back of my head, stroking down towards my nape and up again. I cry into her shoulder, tears that I've bottled up, emotions I've ignored because I've had my dad, my grandparents and the Kozume's. Later, I even had the team, and they all followed me to the racing gig, a place where I can express my emotions through the reckless driving that could claim my life any second. I should have been grateful. Instead, the pain of her absence never ceased.

I clutch the back of her sweatshirt as I cry and cry and cry, eventually tiring myself out and running out of tears.

With dry sobs still racking my body every few minutes, she finally leans back, cupping my face in her gentle hands.

"What's the matter, Kuroo?" She whispers, looking up at me with tears shining in her own eyes. "You can tell me anything, or you can say nothing at all. Either way, I'm here for you. I'll always be here for you," she says, touching her forehead to mine and closing her eyes. She stays here for a moment before moving to get up and drag me up too.

"Come on, let's get you into your pjs and into bed. It's getting late."

---

Your POV

Now in his usual shorts and singlet, I drag him to his massive bed, opening the neatly made bed and gently sit him down.

His hazel eyes follow me as I go to close the curtains, his lashes still wet from the countless tears he shed, his body still hiccupping with dry sobs.

Once I've put his blankets around him, I go to leave, muttering a goodnight as I leave.

"Y/n," I hear before I close the door. I peek my head in, "please stay."

Without a pause to think about his request, and already in my own pyjamas, I go next to him and crawl into his open arm as if I've been doing it every night, snuggling into his shoulder once more and wrapping my arm around his chest.

After a few moments of silence, he begins to speak in a raspy tone, "she's not my real mum. She's Kenma's mum, and I've... I've called her mum since I was around 7," he takes a deep breath before continuing. "I moved in with my dad and grandparents next door to the Kozumes when I was 6. I was nervous and shy back then. You wouldn't even recognise me because of the 180 turn my personality's taken. Kenma was even more social than I was. He was my first friend, and when I got him into volleyball and we met Coach Nekomata. That man inspired me to be the man I am today, and was the main reason why I joined the volleyball team in high school, and made friends with the guys. He did what my mum should've, supported me and gave me the confidence to live my life," he says, his voice cracking with the last word. I hug him tighter, knowing not to say anything as of yet.

"I just wish... I wish she didn't go. I wish she could've met you, Y/n. She would've loved you even more than Kenma's mum does," he confesses with a chuckle, sniffling and turning towards me to look me in the eyes.

"She would've seen the way I was around you. The different man I become. You make me a better person, Y/n. I find myself wanting to be better for you. I could never thank you enough for that. Please, never leave. Just stay with me, and I'll always be here for you," he says, repeating the same words I said to him earlier.

I can't help the smile from taking over my features and I lean in to kiss his nose, his eyes, his cheeks and finally I press my lips against his, something I have been wanting to do for a very long time.

"I will, Kuroo Tetsuro. I'll always stay with you."

A/n: So, I don't actually know if his mum passed away or if she left them, so I kind of just,, did both ?

Taglist: @3daa & @itsgiorgiaz

Notes, interactions and reblogs are highly appreciated <3

#racer!kuroo #haikyuu x reader #haikyufics #kuroo tetsuro scenarios #haikyuu!!#haikyu imagines #kuroo x you #kuroo tetsuro x you #kuroo tetsurou #haikyu angst #haikyuu drabbles #haikyu x reader #haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu au #kuroo angst #kuroo comfort #kuroo fluff #kuroo au

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fandomlovingfreak · 3 years ago

Text

Glacial Passion (5/?)

Regulus Black/Reader

Rating: SFW, T+

Trigger Warning: Arranged Marriage

Word Count: 1998

MasterList Link I AO3 Link I Wattpad Link

Summary: Glacial, cold, icy… all words that described Regulus Black’s grey eyes. Was there truly no emotion behind those eyes, or did a caring man exist beneath? Could she defrost those glacial eyes?

Disclaimer: Regulus Black (Walburga Black, Orion Black, and Sirius Black) is a character from Harry Potter by J.K. Rowling. Reader or y/n is not owned by Rowling. This work has not been created for profit or financial compensation, and is a transformative fair use work in accordance with Section 107 of the United States Copyright Act.

Notes: My only note is that the characters in this fanfiction do some questionable things. This does not at all reflect my personal morals or anything I would do (and certainly hope you would not do). Please don’t read this story if you can’t separate fiction from reality. Fanfiction is for entertainment and should not be something that teaches you to be or act a certain way. Thanks!

Enjoy

***

Regulus is met with silence when (y/n) climbs into their bed after the fight and more silence when she doesn't acknowledge him in the morning, dressing silently before sitting on the balcony with her book.

He glances out of the glass door, watching her devour the words on the worn book. Sighing loudly, he looks back towards the parchment on the desk. He didn't exactly know what to say to Sirius. He knew he wanted his older brother to know about the developments his life had taken in the past month, but how do you complain without sounding entirely pathetic? Especially when your complaining was truly aimed at your own actions and attitudes. Sirius would love (y/n); he was sure he would. In a way, (y/n) sort of reminded Regulus of his brother. She was so adamant about not following the rules that people like them followed. Obviously, she hadn't been able to escape Pureblood society the way Sirius had... He doubted, though (y/n) would have tried. It had to be harder to be a woman in the circles they found themselves in. He honestly couldn't imagine living at the level she was expected to.

It's not like he had any special freedom from the constricting nature of their society, but he could do many things she couldn't while still maintaining his reputation. He could have affairs, he could (but personally wouldn't) abuse his spouse, he could even live separate from her without causing a stir. All these things happened within marriages like their own, and only the women seemed to be ruined by their actions and the actions of their husbands and fathers.

Regulus picks up his quill, intending to finally start this blasted letter. Where does he even begin?

Sirius,

I do not have any great excuses for my lack of communication, other than the last month, which has been one of the most hectic of my life. I am unsure what you have heard. I doubt you have a full picture of what my life has become, as I would hope you would reach out to congratulate your younger brother on his recent nuptials if you had heard.

My new wife, (y/n) Black née (y/ln), apparently checked off the boxes our parents found necessary for the next Mistress Black. Funnily enough, though, I'm not sure they did much research into who she is as (y/n) could hardly be considered the traditional Pureblood bride.

But that is hardly a bad thing; if anything, I find her refreshing, if not a bit maddening at times. I had been somewhat afraid to have a meek and mild wife who would cower under my gaze. (y/n), despite being brought up similarly to us, she seems to have developed her own personality outside of Pureblood society. She isn't bitter or greedy like the other girls. The only piece of jewelry I have been able to give her without argument has been that horrible engagement ring-- you know, the one from mum's side. She doesn't want the things most of these Pureblood girls want. Jewelry and expensive things don't seem to make her happy the way mother said they would.

Even as she is different, I have this ever-increasing fear that I might drive her towards the other's level of bitterness and unhappiness. I will be the first to admit that I have no idea what I am doing with women; this fact has not changed in my marriage. It's become even more apparent that I haven't a clue how I should behave as I've been forced into this relationship.

It has also become clear that Mother's advice has been shit, as every attempt I've made with my bride has been met with annoyance from her. I can't seem to give her what she truly wants. Embarrassingly enough, what she talks of-- craves from me is some sort of romantic connection. This is something I hadn't planned on in an arranged marriage, and I'm not sure if I will be able to indulge her without a bit of deceit.

Which I would feel horrible for doing-- pretending.

Last night, like many nights in recent weeks, I found myself in an argument with my wife over this exact topic. Something she said triggered a memory, hopefully, a memory that you have a recollection of as well.

Do you, brother, have any memories of our dear mother when she was-- well, motherly, to say the least. Warm and loving, as a mother should be. When she would admit to us in hushed tones that the love we showed her was the replacement for the lack of love between Orion and herself?

During the heated exchange with my wife, I was struck with that strange memory, and I realized deeply and uncomfortably that I was in the early stages of pushing my own wife towards becoming our mother. Something, I realize now, I cannot allow to happen.

Pushing this girl towards unhappiness when she was forced into marrying me by her parents is unacceptable on my part. I'm completely aware that it is me who is making us miserable. I should be happy, or at least satisfied enough in the marriage to indulge her, to try. (y/n) is beautiful, everything a man could want in a wife. And I do want her.

Yet, I do not know how to want her the way she is expecting me to. And, I have to reiterate that I don't know how to even-- fall in love, I suppose.

Through my woeful letter, I hope you see a solution to my dilemma. Or at least can offer advice as I have no idea which direction I should go at this time.

Sincerely,

Regulus places his quill to the side, reading over the content of his letter. At times, he sounds like a pathetic child whining, but he hopes his brother can see he sincerely wants his advice.

Very much requires any advice Sirius may have.

None of Sirius's advice could be helpful on the trials and tribulations of marriage per se, but if anyone had experience in relationships, it was Sirius Black. Sirius, who wooed and flirted his way through life, would know exactly how he would be able to win (y/n) over and hopefully form a romantic relationship with her.

Slowly, Regulus gets up from the desk, taking his time to cross the room. Opening the glass door to the balcony, he pokes his head out. When (y/n) doesn't look up, he clears his throat.

She freezes, slowly lowering the book enough for their eyes to meet, but doesn't say a word.

"I'm going to go to the lobby to have this posted." Regulus feels the light pink of embarrassment on the tops of his cheeks.

(y/n) nods once before giving her attention back to the blasted book. Regulus's lips pinch before he shuts the door a bit louder than necessary.

Much to his annoyance, the banging noise doesn't seem to faze his wife.

He stalks down to the library in a mood, the letter to Sirius gripped tightly in his right hand.

A young witch greets him, asking if he needed any assistance with anything.

"I require an owl. I have a very urgent letter that needs to arrive as soon as possible."

"Okay, if you'll follow me, we can get your letter sent." The witch leads him up to the rooftop, showing him the hotel's fastest owl.

***

A sharp knock on their suite's door startles Regulus, who had been reading the Prophet to pass the time. He gets up off of the room's couch, opening the door to an older gentleman.

"Mail delivery, Master Black." The old man hands him a hastily folded piece of parchment addressed to him in Sirius's messy excuse for handwriting.

"Uh-- thank you." Regulus digs in his pocket, pulling out money to tip the man. They exchange the items, and Regulus hurries over to the desk. Hurriedly, he breaks the wax seal and opens the letter.

You got married?

Ah, yes. His ever eloquent brother didn't even bother to address the letter, jumping right to the point.

Regulus reads on...

You got married? And I didn't even get an invitation? I'm sort of hurt, but yet again, mum would've been pissed if I showed up. How fun would that have been, though? Me crashing your wedding in my Docs and my worn Led Zeppelin shirt. Mum would've freaked.

We really missed an opportunity, Reggie.

But, wow. You married. That's wild. And she's a bit wild as well? How did you manage to end up in an arranged marriage with what seems like the most unique of the Pureblood lot? Besides me, of course.

I'll have to meet this fascinating (y/n) (y/ln)-- or should I say (y/n) Black? Weird-- I have a sister-in-law. That feels too grown-up and stuffy.

Maybe it feels wrong, mostly because you never dated anyone, or at least anyone I knew of.

The point you made about you knowing absolutely nothing about women is incredibly accurate, I'm afraid, Reggie. The poor girl, I hope you haven't been ignoring her like Orion does to Walburga. But, I'm almost certain that you have been sort of an ass to her by your letter.

You want advice though, do you now, little brother. Here is my advice to you:

I have dated plenty of people in my days-- plenty. If you truly wish to make your wife (what the hell that is so odd to write!) happy, Regulus, you need to get to know her.

Ask her questions about her likes, her dislikes. What her childhood was like, who her friends are. Even silly things such as how she takes her tea or what she grew up wanting to be as an adult. But you must be prepared to be vulnerable and answer questions she has for you as well. If you can't open up and be vulnerable, you will never be successful in

A) forming a "romantic connection" with (y/n) and

B) falling in love with your wife.

I hope that I have been helpful. My advice is simple, but knowing the woman you promised to spend eternity with is necessary to live a peaceful life. Maybe the whole "happy wife happy life" saying is accurate. Not like I would know, but still.

As for the memory of Walburga you brought up, I do remember instances like that. I hadn't thought about those instances in a very long time. I hope you are successful in your attempts with (y/n). I would hate to see another woman turn out like our mother.

Your brother,

P.S. Take your wife out somewhere romantic! For Merlin's sake, Regulus. You have to have some romance somewhere hidden within you!

***

Regulus decides there's no better time than the present to follow Sirius's advice. Unfortunately, he already used up his one "romantic" idea (really Orion's, but still) with their disastrous dinner the previous night.

His only option would be to find a local who would know of spots he might take his wife to. He reckons the logical locals to ask where these locations would be are the hotel's staff.

The same witch that helped him with the owl still sits at the hotel's lobby desk. She grins widely when she notices he's walking towards her, "Oh! You're back!"

Regulus controls his mild annoyance with the woman as she bats her eyelashes foolishly.

"I wonder if you know any places around the city that you recommend for honeymooners?"

The girl's face falls slightly before she's grinning again, "You're on your honeymoon?"

"Yes, you've probably seen my wife with me," he says, asserting that he does have a wife and that the girl shouldn't get her hopes up, "I'd like to take her out this afternoon, but I'm afraid I know little of the spots couple's usually visit around here."

The witch thinks for a moment, "I think I have a perfect place in mind."

137 notes · View notes

waitimcomingtoo · 4 years ago

Text

Chemistry on the Couch

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

submitted by @elevenspeter

Masterlist

“You have a celebrity crush, don’t you Tom?” Graham instigated as he leaned forward curiously on his knee. Tom didn’t have to think twice to know who he was referring to. There was only one girl that had been living rent free in Toms mind since he was a child, and that was you.

“I do. Ever since I was little, I had the biggest crush on Y/n L/n, the actress.” Tom began with a shy smile. “And I mean the biggest crush. To the point where my parents had her movies playing on the TV all day long to keep me from crying. To this day, I could recite all her lines because I have seen it so many times.”

“That’s so cute.” Emily Blunt, another guest on the couch, gushed. “I bet she’d be happy to hear you fancied her.”

“And whats this I hear about kissing the TV?” Graham giggled to himself.

“I-“ ,Tom cut himself off to laugh in embarrassment as the rest of the audience laughed, “I was convinced she was my girlfriend so I would kiss the TV whenever she was on the screen.” He shrugged in his defense as the audience erupted into laughter. “It drove my dad mad because I got saliva all over the television but my mum thought it was sweet.”

“Aw.” Graham pouted. “So you were a big fan?”

“I was obsessed with that girl from the time I was five until I was about 31.” Tom confirmed.

“How old are you now?” Emily wondered.

“24.” Tom stated, eliciting a laugh from the audience.

“How adorable.” Graham looked out at the crowd with a deviant smile. “And that’s exactly what we told her when we asked her to be on the show tonight. Y/n, come on out.”

Tom’s heart stopped momentarily as Graham looked behind him and waved. His eyes slowly went up as the sound of high heels on tile sounded over the roar of the crowd.

“Oh no.” Tom gulped. Strapped into those high heels were mile long legs wrapped in a tight black dress, all topped off with your perfect face. Tom had spent years loving you through a screen, and now you were walking towards him.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, Y/n L/n!” Graham announced as you came out from backstage with a cheery smile. The audience became deafening as you walked towards the couch but Tom couldn’t hear a thing. His heart had yet to kickstart as he watched you with wide eyes.

“Hi!” You waved warmly to the crowd before hugging Graham hello. Tom looked down in disbelief as you made your way through the guests, hugging each one and greeting them hello. His heart pounded in his ears as you got closer and before he knew it, his life long crush was standing in front of him.

“Hi, Tom. I’m Y/n.” You smiled brightly as you opened your arms to him. Tom nearly jumped out of his seat and gulped as your eyes met his. It might’ve been the lights, but he could’ve sworn your eyes sparkled like they were coated in glitter.

“Yeah.” Tom sputtered, forgetting every word in the English language. The audience laughed at Toms stiffness, but you didn’t. You held his gaze and gave him an assuring smile, silently telling him to relax.

“It’s nice to meet you.” You continued, your arms still open to him. Tom snapped out of his daze and stepped into your arms, resting his head on your shoulder with a child like smile. He was convinced he was dreaming until your lightly curled hair was tickling his face as you embraced, telling him that this was really happening.

“It’s nice to meet you too, darling.” He mumbled happily in your ear. You pulled away but kept your hands on his shoulders, smiling brightly at him when you noticed how red his cheeks were.

“I like your accent.” You told him, keeping one hand on his shoulder as the both of you sat down. All that space on the couch and you chose the spot next to him, something that sent a flurry of butterflies into Toms tummy.

“I like yours too.” He said with a soft smile, never taking his eyes off you. He spent so many years watching you on his television screen, watching you grow up and mature, but nothing could prepare him for the beauty in front of him now. He was enchanted by you, everything about you, and it was making it hard to focus on anything else. He was in a bright room full of people with multiple cameras on him, but all he could see was you.

“Thank you.” You giggled. “You’re Spiderman, right?”

“Yeah, I am.” Tom nodded, mouth drying out. “You know about me?”

“Of course I do. Who doesn’t know about the cutest Spider-Man to date?” You nudged him slightly, his eyes staying glued to your arm as you touched him.

“Did everyone else hear that?” He looked out at the audience with doe eyes.

“We heard it.” Graham nodded with a laugh.

“Just making sure.” Tom beamed, still reeling from your compliment. You were the most heavenly creature to walk the planet in Toms opinion, and you thought he was cute. Just about every dream he had ever had was coming true all at once, and he was loving every second.

“Now Tom, we have a picture that your mother sent in. Look how cute.” Graham gushed as he turned to his monitor. A picture of a young Tom appeared and the audience, as well as all the guests on the couch, fawned over it. In the picture, he was kissing the TV that was paused on a scene from one of your movies. You laughed in delight and absentmindedly squeezed Tom’s hand.

“Aw. We already had our first kiss and I didn’t even know it.” You teased him, scooting a little closer to him on the couch. You hadn’t let go of his hand yet, but he wasn’t complaining.

“I am so sorry.” Tom shook his head in embarrassment and pinched the bridge of his nose with his free hand.

“Don’t be. As long as I know about the next one, I’ll be fine.” You shrugged, looking at him through your eyelashes. Tom gulped at the thought of a next kiss, especially if you were the one suggesting it. If he didn’t know any better, he’d think you were flirting with him.

“Now, you two have actually met before.” Graham said as he pointed between the two of you. You looked at Tom in confusion, letting go of his hand to brush a stay curl off your face.

“Have we?” You asked him. He nodded, trying not to let the disappointment of you letting go of his hand show on his face.

“Yeah. We met many years ago at the Secret Life of Arietty premier because you were in the American version and I was in the British version.”

“Oh My God!” Your eyes widened. “Wait, I do remember you! You were so sweet.”

“Was I? I wouldn’t know, I blacked out.” Tom joked, making you laugh cheerfully.

“Tom’s mother graced us with a home video. Now, this was taken after the premier right?” Graham asked as he turned his attention back to the monitor behind him.

“Oh, God.” Tom sighed, knowing exactly what was coming. “This was after the premier when I could not stop bouncing off the walls because I met you. I think my parents recorded it specifically to embarrass me in front of Y/n one day.”

“Lets take a look, shall we?” Graham asked the audience as the home video began to play.

“Who did you meet?” You heard Tom’s mother’s voice from behind the camera. On the screen was a grainy video of teenage Tom, clad in a shiny suit and wide grin. His face was splashed with freckles and acne, he had a mole on his chin, and his teeth hadn’t quite straightened out yet, but you thought he was the cutest thing imaginable.

“I met Y/n!” He gushed, taking a deep breath as if he still didn’t believe it. He was pacing around his kitchen, slightly loosening his neck tie as he went.

“Yay!” He mom cheered. “Where did you meet her?”

“We were at the Secret Life of Arietty premier and she came up to me and she hugged me and we took a picture and she was so pretty.” He rambled, all his words coming out in one breath. You laughed loudly at the video, resting your hand on Tom’s knee as you continued to watch.

“What did she say to you?” His mom asked from behind the camera.

“She said she likes my accent!” He practically screamed as he tugged on his tie. “She said she likes my accent when hers is so pretty. She’s so pretty.”

“Yay! Tommy’s so excited. He just met his dream girl.” His mom chuckled.

“Mum, did you see me? Did you see her hug me?” Tom asked as he bounced up and down. “She smelled so good. Like Christmas.”

The video faded to black and the monitor turned off, the audience clapping as it concluded.

“That was so cute! Tom, I’m gonna die.” You pouted, turning to him and squeezing his knee.

“Please don’t die. We’re just getting to know each other.” Tom laughed, putting his hand over yours and squeezing it. He was never normally this bold, especially not with girls he fancied since childhood, but something about you gave him a confidence he didn’t hate.

“That was the cutest thing I’ve ever seen. You were so excited.” You gushed, your own flock of butterflies erupting in your tummy.

“I’m having the exact same reaction right now, just internally.” He gestured to himself, making you laugh.

“Really?” You asked, liking his attention more than you thought you would.

“Obviously.” He laughed. “I had the biggest crush on you growing up.”

“I think I have a crush on you now.” You half joked, half meant entirely.

“Oooo, looks like we have a love connection on the couch tonight.” Graham wiggled his eyebrows. “So Y/n, Tom’s seen all your movies. Have you seen his?”

“No, I haven’t.” You shook your head and looked at Tom.

“I have copies back in my hotel room if you want to see them.” He said innocently, not wanting the interaction to end after the show was done.

“How bold of you, Tom.” Graham snorted, making the audience murmur with excitement.

“I didn’t mean it like that.” Tom said quickly, not wanting to offend you. His cheeks were bright red as the crowd misinterpreted his statement. You felt bad for him and shut him up before he could apologize further.

“I know you didn’t.” You patted his arm. “Can we watch them after the show? I’d love to see you in action.”

“You want to?” He asked in surprise, face heating up once again.

“Yeah, I do.” You nodded. “I want to see your work.”

“You hear that Tom? She wants to see you in action.” Graham said wickedly, also trying to start trouble.

“I didn’t mean it like that.” You rolled your eyes. “You’re a host, not a match maker.”

“Why can’t the man be both?” Tom shrugged, not particularly mad at the flirting that was going on.

“Careful there, Spiderman.” You warned. “Don’t start something you can’t finish.”

“Who says I can’t finish?” Tom shot back, feeling confident enough to test his luck with you.

“I’ll guess we’ll find out tonight, won’t we?” You gave him a once over as you leaned back on the couch.

“Tonight?” He furrowed his eyebrows, not knowing what you meant.

“In your hotel room.” You said simply. “I meant what I said. I wanna see you in action.”

“Okay.” Tom swallowed thickly, trying not to show how nervous he was. “I’ll show you my movies.”

“Awesome.” You smiled brightly at him. “It’s a date.”

“This is my room.” Tom said unenthusiastically as he turned on the lights in his hotel room. “If you see boxers on the floor, they’re not mine.”

“Then who’s are they?” You snorted. “Are you and Jake Gyllenhaal filming Broke Back Mountain 2 without telling anyone?”

“No, no. They’re mine.” Tom quickly corrected. “And don’t bring up Broke Back Mountain around me. I had no idea what it was about before I watched it and I still can’t look at fishing rods without blushing.”

“You’re too cute.” You laughed at him as you slid out of your high heels.

“Thanks.” Tom smiled sheepishly. “I’m gonna get the movie ready.”

“I’ll be right there. I just have to get out of this dress.” You called from the bathroom. “Are you okay with me wearing the hotel robe? I promise I won’t get any makeup on it. Not on the outside, at least.”

“Here. This might be more comfortable.” Tom appeared in the doorway with a hoodie and a pair a sweatpants.

“Thanks.” You smiled warmly at him as you took the clothes. “I won’t get makeup on this either.”

“I’m sure I wouldn’t mind if you did.” He shrugged it off. “It’d be a nice little reminder of you.”

You pulled your bottom lip between your teeth and let your eyes wander around Toms face, appreciating every line and freckle. He was awfully sweet, and you found that awfully compelling.

“Do you have any face wash?” You asked him, snapping out of your trance before you got pulled in too deep.

“I have soap.” He offered, pointing to a bottle of Dove on the counter.

“You’re such a boy.” You laughed and ran your fingers through your curls. “I’ll just leave this on then.”

“That’s not so bad. Your makeup looks really nice.” He said quietly as he kept his eyes low.

“Thanks. I’ll let my makeup artist know you like it.” You smirked at him as you walked towards the mirror, beginning to gather your hair in a ponytail.

“I’m not so sure it’s the makeup that I like.” He shrugged as he leaned against the doorframe. “It’s what’s underneath.”

“You think I’m pretty?” You asked a little insecurely, looking at him in the mirror as loose curls fell out of your ponytail to frame your face.

“I’ve thought you were pretty since I learned to spell “pretty.”” Tom chuckled, scratched the back of his neck as he shyly watched you.

“Aren’t you dyslexic? I’m sure it wasn’t that long ago.” You teased him endearingly.

“Hey.” He whined playfully. “How did you know I was dyslexic?”

“I might have googled you.” You shrugged, avoiding eye contact as you applied some chapstick in the mirror.

“Did you now?” He asked, taking an even deeper interest in the conversation.

“I googled all the guests that were gonna be on the show.” You shrugged as a light blush painted your cheeks.

“Oh.” Tom nodded, looking away disheartened.

“Don’t sound too disappointed.” You laughed. “Your dyslexia didn’t show up on the first page of google. I did some digging on you.”

“Oh.” He said again in a completely different tone. This time, he was intrigued. You walked away from the mirror and met Tom in the doorway, leaning your arms against the frame as you smiled at him.

“I’m gonna get changed now.” You told him. “Save me a seat.”

“Okay.” He bit his tongue excitedly, giving you a once over before turned to walk to the bed.

“Wait, Tom?” You called putting for him once he was out of sight.

“Yeah?” He came back with concerned eyes. You smirked slightly as him before turning around and touching the back of your neck.

“Unzip me?” You asked, innocently batting your eyelashes at him. Toms chest tightened, feeling a shortness of breath before nodding his head. The way you were looking at him made him forget how to complete an action as simple as raising his hand, but a simple tug of your lips into a smile restored his confidence. He cleared his throat and snapped out of his trance, smiling shyly at you as he nodded.

“Sure.” He mumbled, hesitantly reaching up and grabbing your zipper. He slowly dragged it down your back, a blush painting his cheeks when the lacy black band of your bra was revealed. He pulled the zipper to the end, stopping at the bottom of your spine.

“Thanks.” You turned around slowly and shot him a wink.

“Anytime.” He answered, hoping his face wasn’t as red as it felt. He touched a cool hand to his cheek, trying to draw away some of the heat.

“I might have to take you up on that.” You shrugged a shoulder, knowing full well what you were doing. Tom caught the double meaning of your statement and felt his face redden from the bridge of his nose all the way to the tips of his ears. You smiled slyly at him before closing the door so you could change.

Tom put the disc in the DVD player and got settled on bed, awkwardly shifting the sheets as he waited for you to join him. It didn’t take long before he heard the bathroom door opening, doing a double take when he noticed you hadn’t bothered with the sweatpants he gave you. His eyes were glued to your bare legs that peeked out from the bottom of his hoodie as you made your way towards the bed.

“Nice stems.” Tom quoted a favorite movie of his as you sat on the bed next to him.

“I thought it might be a little too hot for sweatpants.” You said without looking at him, ostentatiously crossing your legs just to give Tom another look.

“I see.” He gulped, sneaking glances at you every now and then as the movie started.

A few silent moments went by as you paid attention to the movie, not taking particular attention to the parts when Tom wasn’t on screen. His heart beat loudly in his ears as that scene in the alleyway came on, keeping a close eye on your reaction. He heard you suck in your breath when the suit slid off, feeling a twinge of pride as an impressed look crossed your face. You scooted a little closer to Tom, running nervous fingers through your curled hair.

“Well damn.” You laughed shyly. “I’ve never seen someone look as good out of a suit as they look in it.”

“Was that a compliment?” Tom looked at you cheekily. “Are you complimenting me, darling?”

“Would you be mad if I was?” You asked softly. The corners of Toms mouth tugged into a smile as he scooted closer as well.

“Not at all.” He shook his head, the movie long gone from his mind. You took this as an opportunity to move even closer to Tom, your hips touching each other now as your bare legs tangled with his clothed ones. You twisted a little in place, leaning into his side as you rested your chin on his shoulder.

“Is this okay?” You whispered, rubbing his arm gently as you looked up at him.

“Darling, this is just fine.” He answered, resting a hand on your knee and rubbing it gently with his thumb.

“Good.” You smirked, cuddling into his side and resting your head in the crook of his neck. Tom kept his eyes on you, feeling like he was gonna wake up any moment from what surely was a dream. Your attention snapped to him, making him jump a little as you made eye contact.

“Stop staring.” You scolded playfully. “I’m trying to pay attention.”

“Sorry. Sorry.” Tom chuckled, moving his arm so he could wrap it around you and hold you closer. You stayed like that for the rest of the movie, just enjoying the embrace of a stranger who really wasn’t that strange at all.

“What did you think? Did you like it?” Tom asked as he walked you to the elevator once the film had ended. You had your arm linked in his, wearing his sweatpants now as your evening together was coming to an end. He walked slowly, trying to draw out his time with you.

“I didn’t watch it.” You chuckled as you answered honestly. “Any of it.”

“Then what have you been doing the last two hours?” He wondered.

“Looking at you.” You smiled shyly. “Only when you weren’t looking, of course.”

“That’s funny.” Tom mumbled as he brushed a curl off your face. “Because all the times you weren’t looking at me, I was looking at you.”

You reached the elevator and felt a sadness in your heart, knowing this was the end of an enchanting evening.

“I promise I’ll watch your movie when I get home.” You told him as you waited for the elevator to come. “And all your other movies. I might stalk you on Instagram too. Do you have Twitter?”

“I do.” He nodded. “If you follow me, I might react the same way I did in that home video you saw. Maybe even worse.”

“I wish I could see that. I bet it’s even cuter now than it was back then.” You smiled, trying to prolong the conversation as much as you could. The elevator dinged, signaling that it was there, but you didn’t budge. You just pressed your back against the wall next to it and looked at Tom as you spoke.

“I bet it’s just as lame though.” He shrugged, playing with one of the ties on the hoodie.

“I think it’s sweet.” You said softly, putting your hand over his. “I think you’re sweet.”

A radiant smile lit up Toms face as he looked down, feeling fireworks in his chest going off with your words. He placed his hands on the wall on either side of your head, leaning forward and fitting his face into the crook of your neck to conceal his blush. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him into a hug and letting it linger to say goodbye.

“I’m, uh, I’m gonna need your number so we can arrange a time for me to get this hoodie back to you.” You said as you pulled apart, keeping on hand on his shoulder as he hovered over you.

“You see, I’m torn darling.” Tom shook his head. “I want you to keep the hoodie but I also want to see you again.”

You bit your bottom lip and held out your hand, gesturing that you wanted him to hand you something.

“Give me your phone.”

“Okay.” Tom agreed as he pulled it out of his pocket, not even questioning why you needed it. You took his phone from him, smiling at the picture of him and his friends that he used as his background.

“I put my number in.” You told him as you handed it back. “Use it.”

“I will. I promise you I will. I just have to gawk at it for a few hours first until every thing that happened tonight really sinks it.” He joked, making you laugh loudly as the elevator dinged again, rushing you were you just weren’t ready yet.

“Are you gonna come down with me?” You nodded towards the elevator, wanting every second with him you could get.

“After you.” Tom held the door open so you could step inside, going in shortly after you.

“I had a really good time tonight.” You said once the doors closed. “I said that already but, you know, I mean it.”

“So did I.” Tom nodded, sneaking glances at you as the floors climbed down, going much faster than he liked. “A really, really good time.”

“Thanks for letting me come over.”

“Thanks for existing or whatever.” Tom mumbled as he scratched behind his ear and averted his eyes. You giggled happily, giving him one last look as you reached the lobby. The elevator doors opened, but you didn’t get out. You hit the button that closed the doors and turned to Tom, ignoring the confused look on his face as you rested your hands on his chest.

“You know, since you’ve so kindly gifted me your hoodie, it’s only fair I leave you with something.” You suggested with a sultry smile.

“Trust me, darling. The memories are enough for me.” He said as he shyly rested his hands on your hips. You moved your hands further up his chest, letting them rest on his shoulders as you pressed up against him.

“Then let’s make one more.” You whispered, looking between his eyes and his mouth before connecting his lips to yours.

Tag List 🏷

@awesomebooklover17 @thebookwormlife @imanativeofswlondondahling @weirdr-artiest @serendipitous-amor @dummiesshort @foreverxholland @lavender-writer @captainmandeestudent17 @whatareyouhidingpeter @takenbyheartstrings @ultrunning @imyourliquor-youremypoison @theolwebshooter @andreasworlsboring101 @guksmyfav @waiting-to-be-myself @letsloveimagines @peterparkoure @a-villain-vying-for-attention @justcallmehitgirl @averyfosterthoughts @jackiehollanderr @tiny-friggin-human @mara-twins @iamaunicorn4704 @the-crazy-fanfictionist @maryjanee23 @geeksareunique @emmamarshmellow @jillanaholland @unbelievableholland @rebekkah4766 @flixndchill @sovereignparker @thisisthebiplace @spideydobrik @every-marveler-ever @undiadeestos @caelestii-e @eridanuswave @itscaminow @fiantomartell @solarxmoonchild @where-art-thau-romeo @canyouevencauseicant @illwritetomorrow @thehappygrungelife @saysomethingspiderman @parkerboop @smilexcaptainx @hes-amarillo @quaksonhehe @kelieah @kickingn-ames @purefluff @seasidecrowbar @lovelessdagger @love-sick-blues @electraheart-3174 @lou-la-lou @unbelievableholland @yourtypicalhotmess @spideyanakin @horanxholland @thesuitelifeofafangirl @anapocalypseinmymind @quacksonfics @marshxx @heyheycharlatte @nooneinvitedfascistbarbie @tomshufflepuff @cookiemonstermusic258 @maybemona @young-romanoff @alexxcorona113 @spidey-reids-2003 @lethal-wisdom @xo-spidey @im-still-tryin-to-find-it @itstaskeen

#tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland x actress!reader #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland fanfic #tom holland fluff #tom holland imagine #tom holland x famous!reader #marvel

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crowdedimagines · 4 years ago

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Leaked (Finale) Harry Styles

“You guys got to see a very raw and real side of us. It’s a bummer that it wasn’t our choice, we didn’t choose to reveal such a personal thing that happened, not to mention what else has been leaked.” I sigh, finally breaking eye contact with the camera sitting on a tripod in front of us. The fans will be getting a glimpse into Harry’s home for this video.

“I know what I signed up for when I got into this business, very little privacy, but I never expected it to come to this extreme. M’very private with my relationships, and I never want to see anyone-'' He pauses to focus himself again, I place a hand on his thigh and attempt to carry on. Against the better judgement of both Jeff and Jordan we both decided against a script, we had highlighted points we wanted to address, but didn’t want it to seem disingenuous.

“Harry and I lost a child last July.” I pick my head up letting the tears openly fall without letting myself choke over them, “And the song you guys have all heard came from that, a place of hurt and exhaustion. We never expected the world to hear it, and we never thought those pictures would be out in the world either. But that’s life isn’t it?” I laugh humorlessly.

The song was leaked a few hours ago now, my name having never left the top trending on twitter, but now Harry’s and several conspiracies have joined it. People cutting parts from it with raw and loud sobs coming from each of us, open for discussion among the whole world.

“We love you all, but please understand our choice to step back from the public for the time being.” Harry chimes in. We both look at each other and nod, feeling we addressed what we need to.

“Treat people with kindness, yeah?” I ask as we both get up from our spot on Harry’s couch.

“Yeah.” He pulls me in for a hug, as Jeff gets up to cut the camera. Our teams were both getting the footage and posting it to our accounts. Harry and I have both agreed to a break from phones for a bit.

“Okay, so this will be posted across all platforms, on both of your accounts shortly. I don’t think we’ll need to edit much.”

I walk over to the other side of the living room where Jordan is standing reading through her phone, she glances up as soon as she sees me coming. She puts on a smile, and pulls me in for a tight hug. She knows just how long the past few days have been.

“Alright, Paula and I booked flights, we’re heading out this afternoon to go home.”

“What about me?” I question.

“We both know that you need to stay here for a while.” She smiles, “Take some time to heal, just remember you two never fell out of love. Call me if you need anything.”

I glance back at Harry whose now joined by his sister and mother. I don’t want to leave, to be completely honest. The last thing I want is to have to go home to my empty house in L.A. Harry and I ran away from each other last year, maybe this is the opportunity for us to finally stop running.

Harry’s POV

“Don’t you think that you need to heal together this time? You can’t let her leave again.” My mum explains, trying to make her point, as quietly as possible. I watch as she glances over my shoulder to where Y/n must be somewhere.

“Mum, I can’t make her stay.” I shake my head. I couldn’t make her stay before, now we’ve spent so much time apart. All I want is to pull her into my arms, but I don’t know if that’s what she wants after all this time. Hell, after this week she might not ever want anything to do with me.

“No, but you can ask her.” Gemma nods her head in Y/n’s direction as she walks over to join us.

“Harry, can I talk to you?” Her voice is soft and calm. My shoulders visibly drop as I relax and follow her to the back porch. We sit in the same spot on the couch as we did yesterday.

“What’s going on, love?” I ask once we’ve both taken a seat.

“Well, Jordan and Paula are flying out this afternoon.” She says, she pulls her legs up close to her chest.

“And you?”

Please god tell me you’re staying.

“I think I might stay.” She picks up her head, “If that's alright with you.”

I can’t fight off the smile at this point. I just give her a simple nod, pulling her close to lean on my shoulder. I should’ve known that we were on the exact same page, we always have been.

“I don’t think I could go back to an empty house, to be honest.” She sighs.

“I don’t think I could let you walk out of that door again, to be honest.”

Y/n’s POV

“Do you mean that?” I ask, picking up my head, “Truly?”

He simply nods and bites at his bottom lip.

“What are we supposed to do, Harry? I don’t think we can just pick up where we left off?”

“No, but isn’t that the beauty of it? We can try again, try for a different outcome. Build on how much we already love each other.”

“Hmm, how much we already love each other?” I smirk, my tone taking on a teasing edge.

“Mhm.” Harry hums, his cheeks taking on a pink hue.

“Alright Styles, lets give this a shot.”

T W O Y E A R S L A T E R

“Hello? Is anybody home?” Anne’s voice rings out loudly as she lets herself in the front door.

I make my way downstairs, I’m sure that she’s found Harry who's in the kitchen getting dinner prepared. Gemma got here about ten minutes ago. I put on a record and go to stand in the doorway and watch the encounter. Anne gives her son a big hug, stealing a carrot from his cutting board as they make small chat to catch up.

“Hello.” I walk in, making my presence known.

“Look out you!” Anne squeals, “You’re glowing!” She immediately walks over to pull me in for a hug, her hands resting on my belly once I pull away.

“I feel like a bit of a whale, but thank you.” I smile.

“Oh hush it.” Harry scolds.

“How’re you feeling?”

“Like I’m having a baby in four weeks.”

“Yeah, and she’s still going on runs!” Harry says with a proud grin, “Every morning she gets up with me and we run a few miles.”

“It’s pretty much a fast walk for Harry though.” I smile.

“Yeah, but he isn’t forming a pancreas while he does it!” Gemma cuts in making us all laugh. “We’re more impressed with you.”

“Exactly.” Harry presses a kiss to my temple.

I join Gemma at the counter while Anne helps Harry finish cooking everything. I would help, but my ankles are too swollen by the end of the day, and I know everyone in the room would kick me out before I could even start.

“So, things have been going well with everything? You guys feeling ready to be parents?” Anne grins.

“Is anyone ready before they are?” I ask, “I’m just trying to take it one day at a time, and read as much as I can.”

“You guys will be wonderful parents.”

It means the world to hear this from Anne. It’s been weird to be in London for most of the pregnancy and away from my own mother, but it’s been a blessing to have Anne. She’s an amazing mom herself, and she hasn’t complained once over my odd and annoying questions.

“And if not they’ll have the best Aunt ever to make up for it.”

I roll my eyes and take Gemma’s hand in mine and set it on the front of my belly. Moving and adjusting to the exact spot that the little bean is kicking in.

“That’s mad.” She sighs, “I don’t think I would ever be able to get over that.”

“Harry can be like a leech sometimes! Can’t get him off.” I laugh.

“You feel it all, I’m going to steal as much time as I possibly can.”

We all sit down to eat, and catch up on everything that we’ve missed in life over the past few weeks. Ever since the pregnancy both Anne and Gemma have made an effort to come to our house as often as they can for meals, or even just a visit.

I think we were all a bit shocked to find out I was once again pregnant. Harry and I couldn’t believe it at first, I don’t think we wanted to. Didn’t want to risk getting our hopes up. It had been a year and a few months since we got back together when we found out. Four tests sitting on the counter, two thins lines on each of them.

We waited a long time before telling anyone, too afraid that it could be a repeat of what happened those years ago. Once we did finally tell our families they couldn’t be more excited. The fans were too, surprisingly. I debated pulling a Kylie Jenner and just disappearing from the world for months, but I knew I would get too stir crazy. So as soon as the bump was visible, Harry and I both confirmed it on social media.

The fans were happy for us, most of them were so disappointed and saddened about what happened, they felt bad that we were made to share things neither of us were ready too. This time we were trending for positive reasons, and I’ve never felt more supported by everyone in my life.

F O U R W E E K S L A T E R

“Love, are you sure I’m good to go to the studio?” Harry asks for the millionth time, not wanting to leave me home alone so close to my due date.

“Yes!” I laugh, pushing him closer to the door, “You actually have the time while the bean is inside me, I’ll need you here once they’re out.”

“Alright.” He says with hesitancy, “Please call me for anything. The studio isn’t even far from here, so please don’t hesitate with anything.”

“Ok, babe, just go so you can come back!”

“Promise you’ll call?”

“Yes, I promise.” I laugh, he’s always been protective, but now he’s to a whole nother level since the pregnancy.

“Alright, I’ll bring home food too, I really shouldn’t be gone too long.”

“That’s perfect, babe! Maybe we can get - ow!”

He instantly turns around and pulls his hand from the door when I cry out in pain.

“Darling? Are you okay?”

“No, I’m fine.” I hold out my hand, “It was just this really sharp-ow!”

I cry out again, clutching my belly. Before I know it, a warm liquid is spreading down my legs.

“Love, your water just broke!” He cheers, his eyes saying nervous but he has a smile on his face. “I guess I’m not going to the studio.”

“Oh god!” I groan, I start waddling towards the door, “Okay, you grab the go-bag, I’m gonna start walking to the car.”

I know it might take me awhile to get there. I know it’s not true, but I feel like I need to keep my knees shut from keeping the little bean from falling out.

“Right, go bag.” He mutters to himself, slowly becoming more flustered, “Should we call an ambulance?”

“No.” I laugh, taking deep breaths.

“Love, are you sure you’re okay?”

“Just grab the bag so we can go to the hospital.”

“Yeah-”

“Harry!” I yell, “In the coming hours I am going to force a human being out of my vagina. Now I personally would like to do that at a hospital, will you go grab the bag, or do you need me to do it?”

He swallows and runs upstairs to grab the bag and I make my way to the car. It doesn’t take him long at all, now he’s finally had some sense smacked into him.

“We’re really doing this?” He asks, smiling as he pulls out of the driveway.

“We’re really doing this.” I grin, taking his hand in mine.

O N E Y E A R L A T E R

“Happy birthday to you dear, Anderson, happy birthday to you!” We all sing to the little one year old boy I hold tight to my chest.

“Let’s blow out the candles, baby.” I lean forward and blow out the singular candle for the one year old. We made a true event of it, calling everyone we knew practically to celebrate in our backyard, complete with so many games for other children, even though our son was still too young to play most of them. Harry and I couldn’t be more proud of our little boy.

Everyone cheers, I smile looking at Harry who’s got a similar grin. A year in the making to get to this day, lot’s of late nights, but more laughter than anything else. It’s been a wonderful afternoon, everyone loving the little boy who looks practically identical to his father. Cheering as he smashes his little cake all over his face, the table, and his clothes.

“Alright, let’s have Grandma get you all cleaned up!” Anne says as she steals Anderson from me. I smile watching her take the giggly little boy inside to get the cake he’s managed to smear everywhere cleaned off.

Most everyone has left at this point, it has been a packed house to celebrate the one year old, but as it gets later things slow down. It’s finally just down to immediate family and Harry and I can put our feet up for a few minutes.

“Can you believe it? A whole year we’ve been parents.” I lean back into Harry’s side. We’re sat on the outdoor couch, a spot that has grown to contain a lot of heart to hearts over the years.

“No, he’s getting too big too fast.” Harry presses a kiss to the top of my head, “He’s going to be needing another sibling soon.”

I let out a soft chuckle.

“Hmm, is that so?”

“Yeah, who wouldn’t want another kid like that?” We both look over our shoulders to peek in to see Gemma and Anne playing with blocks on the floor in the living room.

“Are you gonna push the next one out?” I tease, I get up and grab the only unopened present that’s remained on the table all day.

“It’s funny that you should say that.” I smirk, turning my attention back on the man I love. I hand him the box, neatly wrapped in polka-dot paper.

“What’s this?”

“Just open it.” I sit down again.

He tears the paper from the box and flips the lid open. His jaw dropping as soon as he sees the contents. Pulling out an olive green tee shirt for Anderson. Simply written across it is “Big Brother”

“You’re teasing me?” His eyes look hopeful though, like he’s praying I wouldn’t tease him like that.

“You can check the four tests in my drawer in the bathroom if you don’t believe me.” I smirk, “Or the fact that I have an appointment at the clinic this Monday.”

“Shut up.” His grin only getting wider.

“Baby Styles number two, coming soon.”

He tackles me down to the couch, a big warm hug.

“Oh my god.” He sighs into my neck. “I can’t wait to do this all again.”

“Me neither.” I grin, rubbing my hands up and down his back. He finally pulls back to get a good look at me, holding my face in his hands.

“God, I love you so much.”

“I love you, too.”

kinda cheese, but a fun way to end it! this was cute lol

#harry styles x reader #harry styles imagine #Harry Styles

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whatiwillsay · 4 years ago

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submission: we need to talk about ttb (spade-riddles)

Hey Cam. Seeing that ask defending TTB’s doxxing has sort of pushed me to finally share some of my story on Tumblr, I guess. I haven’t had the opportunity to talk about this to anyone fully, so this will probably be long, but I hope you don’t mind me venting.

I’m one of the people that got emailed by TTB. I don’t feel comfortable posting this off anon, but I was in a Discord server with you and @bisluthq and some other people back in Dec/Jan. I don’t know if you remember me, but my name on there was one word and began with an L and ended with an S.

I want to share the full story, but I also don’t feel comfortable with sharing certain details publicly because I’m still very wary of getting outed further by her if she sees this, so I’m gonna be vague about some things

Request to her followers — If you see this, please don’t send this to her. Like I’m genuinely asking you not to because I don’t trust her not to cross any more lines. My dad is a major homophobe with serious anger issues who has literally been arrested for violence before, and she doesn’t really think carefully or maybe even care about how any actions she takes could lead to people being harmed, so I’m not eager to see how she might react.

Anyway, I first got an email back in December, and I was really freaked out by it at first. I spoke to one of my mutuals about it, and although we both agreed it was super weird and invasive and creepy, we ended up trying to see the funny side of it. So, I kinda just brushed it off and moved on. I was mainly just really confused about why I had been targeted because at the time, I thought it was only me who’d gotten an email like that. I didn’t understand why she’d specifically targeted me instead of other people who she clearly disliked a lot more.

About a week later, I saw someone on Tumblr mentioning a strange email, and I realised other people must have gotten them too. I spoke to Nat about what happened to me and ended up in the Discord

At the time, I felt like I’d gotten off really easy comparatively to others because I initially didn’t realise that she’d contacted anyone else. And so I tried to act chill about it because I didn’t want to make things about me, but honestly, I was extremely anxious. I felt on edge for over a week. I would keep checking her blog again and again because I was super worried that she would post our personal details publicly. I scrolled through my entire blog from start to finish and deleted a lot of posts that were either personal or that I just didn’t want anyone I knew in real life to read.

This part I have to be vague about because it would basically give away who I am, but it was only a while later when I thought I was in the clear that someone I knew in real life texted me and mentioned seeing a weird email about me. The email had been sent a while back, and they’d been shown it by the original recipient/s. Multiple people had been shown it, but luckily (kinda), only two of those people were actually people I saw on a regular basis

I’m mostly closeted, but I’m kind of technically out to a few of my immediate family members. But it’s very much a DADT situation because they’re not accepting, and they like to just pretend I’m straight. And so I basically have to act closeted even when I’m around them, and I can’t even ALLUDE to being gay.

But with my dad, it’s different. He’s very homophobic. I’m only gonna mention this next part so that people understand what kind of dangerous situation that TTB could have put me in. (And the other people that she doxxed too because she didn’t know how safe their individual situations were). It’s all really personal, and I wouldn’t ordinarily feel comfortable sharing any of this at all, even anonymously, but I think it needs to be said because her actions were extremely fucking irresponsible.

Right, so when I first “came out” to my dad, it was actually an accident, and he reacted… extremely badly. This was back in like… 2018 or 2019, I can’t remember the exact year

(TW // physical abuse, homophobia)

He was extremely angry, literally shaking. He yelled at me, he described in graphic detail how he was going to “break every bone in my body”, “strangle the life out of me”, “drown me”, etc. He kept telling me that I’m disgusting and going to Hell, you get the idea. He was having a lot of fun with making strangling motions and stabbing motions with his hands, and he kept slamming his hand onto the table. That went on for about 15 minutes, and then he stood up and threw a chair from the dining table at me. That was fun lol. And he punched me in the head pretty hard which kinda knocked me back. I felt dizzy, I had to sit down on the floor. At that point, my mum who had been crying and asking him to stop physically intervened, and he ended up storming out of the house instead. My mum’s a genuinely good person btw. She’s a little homophobic, but she cares about me a lot, and I’m very grateful for her. She hates him too, but she’s kinda stuck with him… It wasn’t her fault

He literally hates gay people. He complains about us on the regular. One time, he threw the remote at the TV and cracked the screen just because there was a gay male couple kissing onscreen. Another time, he threw a rock at a gay man on the street. There was also a time where he forced a few of my siblings (who didn’t want to do it) to throw peeled oranges out of the window at people celebrating pride while he drove past them and yelled insults at them. He found that really funny. Anyway, I’m sure you guys get the idea of what kind of person he is

He hasn’t laid a hand on anybody in several months though, so I do think he’s trying to be better at least. Like he’s still verbally abusive and controlling and awful, but I appreciate that he’s at least making an effort to calm down with the hitting and kicking and stuff

Anyway, with my dad, it’s less DADT and more that I think he’s got it in his head that he managed to scare me into “seeing the error of my ways” and that I’ve “stopped choosing to be gay” and that I’m now straight. So, if it had been HIM who had gotten that email, it would’ve been like… extremely bad. Like I’m getting anxious just thinking about it. And this is why I’m so angry at TTB. It was extremely, extremely irresponsible of her to not consider these kinds of possibilities before she sent out her stupid emails. She’s supposed to be an ally, but it didn’t even cross her mind that these emails would lead to people being outed and possibly even harmed?? It’s not okay at all. I’m just very grateful that she didn’t send one to him because I don’t even know what kind of situation I would be in right now.

Anyway, enough about my fucking awful dad… I feel uncomfortable that I even typed all of that out, but I wanted people to understand how dangerous her actions could have been. Like I mean, my dad’s got PTSD and extreme anger issues from his teenage years, so I do try not to judge him TOO harshly, but there’s no excuse for being a huge bigot or occasionally violent. The idea of him being the one who got that email is still so scary to me. Like my heart is racing just thinking about it

One of the people that DID read the email was the male friend I mentioned earlier though. He was shown it by someone else for a particular reason, and he was a very important person to me. Like he was a good guy, we were close, he helped me out with certain personal issues I have and is one of only two people that I know in real life that I felt comfortable confiding in about them. We’d always meet up once a week, sometimes twice, and we’d just talk about stuff and make an effort to help each other out with things. Like he was very important to me.

It turns out that he’d looked through my blog before I’d got around to scrubbing it, and he asked me if I was gay in person the next time we met up. I couldn’t lie because like… he’d have known I was lying right to his face. So, I told him I was, and you should have seen his face. It made me feel so awful about myself. He looked really stunned and shocked and kinda uncomfortable. Like it got so awkward, and I started rambling and making things worse. He was avoiding eye contact, and my voice was shaking.

I ended up making up an excuse to leave about 5 mins later and had an actual anxiety attack. Again, this is embarrassing and something I’d never usually talk about online, but I just want to get it all off my chest so that I can move past it all.

So, I was like on the verge of tears (I don’t cry easily), I couldn’t breathe properly, I was pacing around the building, and I just wanted to escape, so I headed straight for the doors. There was a queue of about 100 people lined up and waiting to leave, and I couldn’t think straight or breathe and just needed to be outside, so I tried to go out through the other exit which is for staff only. The security guard stopped me and basically publicly humiliated me in front of all of those people. He loudly shamed me and said I “didn’t have any decency” for attempted to jump the queue, lectured me in this really condescending tone, and then sent me right to the back of that huge line. Meanwhile, I was literally in the midst of a bad anxiety attack.

And then I eventually got outside and had to call my mum to come and pick me up instead of just making my own way home like I usually do. She’s amazing though tbh because she actually came to get me and didn’t even question why. I had to skip all of my plans for the rest of the day and instead just hid upstairs in my bedroom with the lights off until the next day. I refused to tell any of my family members what had happened even though they kept asking. I just felt so, so awful, and my anxiety was through the roof

To be honest, before that happened, my mindset was like: “I mean, if I get outed, it obviously wouldn’t be good, but I think I’d be able to deal with it fine”. But then, when it actually happened, and I saw the way my close friend reacted, I had like a whole emotional breakdown lol. It’s like, you think you’d be fairly chill in a situation, but when it actually happens, your reaction can be really unpredictable. I was so embarrassed by everything about that entire incident. I didn’t even want to show my face the next day.

It’s been almost two months since that happened, and in that entire time, my friend has contacted me once. We literally used to meet up once or twice a week (and during lockdown, we’d do video calls or phone calls instead), but since then, we’ve barely even spoken. Things are just so awkward now. I know this sounds stupid, but I feel like TTB’s taken one of my best friends away from me. I don’t think he’s a homophobe or anything, he has openly gay friends and is fairly accepting, but I think it’s just the way that he found out that has just made things so weird between us now. I feel like if I’d had the chance to come out to him myself in my own way, he wouldn’t have reacted like that. But I’m gonna text him next week and see if we can maybe try to fix our friendship, but I doubt it at this point

The other people who were shown the email, I mostly just avoid. I don’t really care about them knowing that much because I wasn’t close to them, but it’s just really embarrassing knowing that they probably scrolled through my Tumblr blog before I scrubbed it

And about Tumblr… This used to be the only place that I could fully be myself. It was like a “safe space” for me which feels ironic now. But I haven’t been active on my blog since December. I still lurk occasionally, but I just don’t feel comfortable here anymore. I did consider deleting my current blog and starting afresh with a new one, but I don’t think it’d make much of a difference… Like she’s kind of ruined Tumblr for me. I do still enjoy reading people’s blogs every now and then, but I don’t feel relaxed here anymore, I just feel on edge.

It’s mainly the fact that SHE’S still here. She still has a platform, she still has a bunch of followers. It’s been so hard seeing her face next to no consequences whatsoever for the horrible things that she’s done to so many different people. And it upsets me that she hasn’t even acknowledged that what she did was wrong. Plus, it makes me feel even worse that the Hard Kay blogs and some other people are still supporting her and pretending that this whole thing just didn’t happen. Like do they just not care? Or is it that she’s twisted things and made them believe that the situation was different to what it actually was?

And tbh, this whole situation has even set me back in my own sort of personal self-acceptance journey. I had such bad internalised homophobia when I was younger, and it took me so many years to get to a place where I had mostly accepted myself. But now I just feel ashamed again, and I’ve gone back to my old habit of trying to force myself to be attracted to men. Like I downloaded Tinder the other day and set my preference to men and was swiping through profiles. It’s kinda silly actually. I did snap out of it and delete the app the next day though. But I don’t know, I feel like this whole thing has just kinda fucked with me a bit. I am trying to work this stuff out and get back to normal though. I think I’ll be good again in maybe a month or so, hopefully.

And… yeah. I just really resent her, and this situation upsets me. Because the reason she did this was so petty and ridiculous, and I guess she didn’t even realise how much it would impact people? Like I do know that my situation wasn’t as bad as some of the other people’s situations, and I feel really bad for them, and I hope they’re all doing okay. I can’t imagine what it must have been like for them. But it still has impacted me a lot more than I actually thought it would. I thought I’d get over it within a couple of weeks. But it’s been like two months, and I’m still not completely over it

I know it might not sound like a huge thing, but being outed really does affect you, even if it’s only to a few people. Because to me, I feel like I’ve had my sense of like, security and comfort taken away, and it’s kinda distressing. Sorry if I sound dramatic with any of this, I just really needed to say all of this stuff to other people besides myself lol

Like her actions have literally led to me being outed to a few people. A close friendship that I had has basically been ruined. I don’t feel comfortable or secure on Tumblr anymore, even though it used to be an important outlet for me. I’ve had a resurgence of anxiety about my sexuality. Etc.

And again, my dad is extremely homophobic and literally made death threats to me and physically attacked me back when I accidentally came out to him in 2018 or 2019. And if he had gotten that email, I don’t even know what would have happened. I don’t think he would have like… SERIOUSLY physically harmed me, but there would definitely have been a repeat of the first incident. More throwing chairs at me and hitting and screaming and death threats. I don’t really want to think about it.

It just bothers me that she didn’t even consider that? Like did it not even cross her mind? And my dad is bad, but I’m sure there are people in the fandom who have even worse parents, and she could have got one of those people instead. It’s just so… I don’t know, it’s just so frustrating to me.

Anyway, I just hate her for what she did… Like maybe I shouldn’t, but I really do resent her so much, and I don’t think I could forgive her even if she apologised to us all (which I don’t think she even would because she doesn’t seem to have any decency whatsoever). The least she could do is at least express some kind of remorse, but she just genuinely doesn’t care, and that’s super messed up. All over some stupid Tumblr blog that is much less important than she thinks it is.

But anyway… I apologise for the whole rant, and if anybody read all the way down to here, I appreciate it. I do actually feel a bit better now that I’ve got this all typed out. And I’m sorry for the oversharing lol, I usually don’t do this, but I just felt like I really needed to tell people and get it off my chest so that I can try to get over it — L

submisssion⬆️⬆️⬆️

ok L i am trying to remain calm here because this isn’t about me. but i am very emotional right now. i am so so so infinitely sorry that you had to go through this harrowing and terrifying experience. ttb (now blogging under spade-riddles) is absolutely disgusting, lower than dirt, that she would put your life, safety, and well-being at risk over a fucking kaylor blog.

please please please im me or get in touch somehow because i want to offer you support. have you been financially impacted by this? we can raise money. do you need therapy? we can help you find the support you need. this community is unequivocally here for you. whatever you need, if it’s in my power to help you get it, i will. you have my solemn promise on that.

i am so deeply and desperately sorry that you have gone through this. i was shaking while reading your story.

i am in touch with other people and we are in discussion about the best way to let tumblr know what happened. this will be a safe space for you (and all of us) again if it’s the last thing i do. this community is 100% here for you in any way we can help, sending you all the support and love we have.

#submission #tw: abuse #tw: homophobia

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wirewitchviolet · 4 years ago

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A Little Horrifying Primer on Transphobes

Some time ago, I put together a Little Fact Checking Primer on Trans People, as a basic resource for disabusing people of some of the many completely ridiculous yet absurdly widespread beliefs about trans people that simply have no basis whatsoever in reality. And wouldn’t you know it, every single lie exposed in that primer is not only still widely believed, but is presently being used as a basis to sign some absolutely horrific human rights abuses into law. So it’s high time I follow that up, in this case focused more on who keeps actively spreading these lies and why. I’m going to try and keep things as light as I can here, but we’re going to be looking at the most monstrous side of human nature, so apologies in advance if this is a dark read.

First, let me just note that there are two things I don’t plan to do in this piece. I’m not going to waste time debunking the arguments of the people I’m highlighting (much of this is already covered in my earlier primer, others have done the work in cases where I haven’t, and frankly these people’s claims should be self-evidently utter nonsense to begin with). I am also going to be very selective in what I link to, or even share related images of, as I would frankly not like to fill a post on a blog I generally try to keep safe for all audiences with media directly dealing with, for instance, child sexual assault, and much of the relevant information also involves stochastic terrorism against innocent people, and I would prefer not to throw more fuel onto such fires.

Transphobes lie constantly, about everything.

To some degree this is obvious. We’re talking about people who scaremonger about the possibilities of trans women dominating competitive sports and assaulting people in restrooms, despite the status quo already reflecting the conditions they insist would make these inevitibilities for decades and centuries respectively, and their grim visions never once having come to pass, and also constantly insisting that the woman in the photo below is actually a man, going further to say this is evident to anyone giving her the merest glance.

It goes beyond that though. There’s at least a little plausible deniablity in claims like this, or that “science is on their side” if they were simply uninformed about the world they live in, never actually looking into what laws exist, what science actually says, and never actually meeting a trans person or even seeing a picture of one of us. I’m talking really bold lies here. Like wholecloth fabricating a story that a convicted murder was trans, including anecdotes about wigs dresses and a planned name change, in a major newspaper. Or to cite an old favorite of mine, the time a pack of bigots walked up to a crowd of people peacefully picketing a transphobic legal proposal, started roughing them up and taking closeup photos of members of the crowd to stalk online when they got home, got sufficiently riled up for one to straight up assault an innocent person half her size, filmed the whole thing, uploaded it to youtube, and used stills of that assault as acomanying photos when they went home to write articles about the assailant being a “grandmother” attacked by rowdy trans women. And yes, they did monkey’s paw my wish to see that specific image on newspapers. Interesting side note, when it came to real public light that J.K. Rowling endorsed this sort of hatred, it was because she accidentally pasted some profanity laden rambling about how the imagined moral character of the other party in that incident, years after the fact, into a post praising a child’s fan art of her work.

To be a little less niche, transphobes can’t get enough of spreading the lie that the young fellow in this photo is a girl. Specifically a trans girl, providing proof that all their scaremongering about the dastardly threat of trans girls in competitive sports has finally come to pass.

To be fully clear, that’s a man (or a boy if you want to split hairs about him being 17 in that photo). Mack Beggs. A rather insidious choice for this sort of story, considering the actual context for that photo. See, Beggs attended high school in Texas, during a (still ongoing as I write this) period wherein that particular state had caved to this exact sort of propaganda, and in order to head off a wholly imagined wave of trans girls competing on girls’ sports teams, and enacted a law mandating that in all such competitions must compete under whatever gender is stated on their birth certificates. And as it happens, the first, and to my knowledge ONLY time this has come up was with Beggs here, who again, is a man, as no one with a grip on reality could argue against, has “female” on his birth certificate. Which is another way of saying he is a trans man. The guys in the same boat as trans women who we talk about a whole hell of a lot less because their existence is extremely inconvenient to the majority of transphobic propaganda. Case in point. And this is all information it is really impossible to come across if you’re coming across this photo in any sort of respectable source. Take this story, which is as unambiguous about this as you can get. And yet, in the very comments section of that story, there they are. Carrying on like this story about a trans guy, forced by a transphobic law to compete as a girl, which he absolutely did not want, and received horrific threats over, using phrases like “female to male” and bringing up that he was assigned female at birth and is on testosterone-based HRT, is about a trans woman cheating the system. Or to quote word for word, “Now also transgender female want to be male also compete in female sport. biological born“ That’s not “being confused,” that’s standing next to you in a white desert and complaining about being adrift in a black ocean, bald-faced, not even trying to be convincing just make a power play, lying through one’s teeth.

I could spend this whole article on just this point. Lying about who they are, various people’s falsified credentials, whole websites full of “anonymous parents of children who think they’re trans” turning out to be one single woman documenting the abuse of her very much trans son, or of course the people behind the whole “bathroom bill” panic candidly admitting it was all based on utter fiction. I do have other points to cover though.

Transphobes are firmly entrenched in the media.

It is extremely difficult to find oneself in a position of having to explain to people that a particular group of people is effectively in control of press outlets, as that is rather classically a claim conspiracy theorists absolutely love to toss around at various marginalized groups (including trans people hilariously enough, but of course the most common and lingering version of this is the antisemitic variant). I really can’t get around it here though. Specifically in the U.K., you honestly can say that transphobes control the media. I already touched on this with the assault case I mentioned above and the fabricated story about the murderer, but this is a pretty well-documented situation. I mean, even The Guardian calls out The Guardian on this, and that’s the outlet that gets the most attention because it’s the one with the most otherwise respected name, but every paper in the country has been running transphobic propaganda pieces on a weekly if not daily basis for years now, and while they do get reprimanded by watchdog groups and have mass walk-outs over the worst of it, it’s not like there’s some governing body with the authority to step in about it. Meanwhile the BBC is constantly inviting diehard zealots like Graham Linehan to news programs where he compares being trans to being a nazi, and hosting debates where someone just sits down and repeatedly chants the word “penis” at a trans woman.

Things are better in the rest of the world, but we still have right-wing creeps like Jesse Singal both writing horrific propaganda pieces (we’ll get back to that one) and blackballing trans writers out of covering trans issues ourselves (and personally stalking the hell out of those of us who try). We’ve got our Joe Rogans and Tucker Carlsons out there (no way in hell I’m linking videos here, have a real information link and a still).

The line between diehard transphobes and straight-up nazis basically does not exist.

What even is there to say here? You can easily poke around havens for nazi activity for yourself and compare the particular unique vocabulary used there to the primary bastion of anti-trans hate speech on the internet (the “feminism” section of what was originally a site for parenting tips before violent fascists took the forums over) or just peruse the follows of the thousands of people I’ve blocked on social media and see if you can sort out a clear division in the networks of channers with frog avatars and the accounts with names like GoodieXXrealwoman, or you can read up on Gab and Spinster, the two twitter alternatives that are just different portals to the same server, set up by the same guy. Maybe do some research into “the LGB Alliance,” or WoLF but any way you slice it the only real difference to be found is the general purpose nazis take a little time off now and then to watch borderline pedophilic anime and the really dedicated transphobes think to use language that sounds vaguely well-educated and left-leaning. I mean, this came from the “feminist” side of the fence:

And not to belabor the point here, but the ones claiming to be a bunch of “feminist mums” sure do let the mask slip any time they’re confronted with the fact that “women” includes black women, and oh just have a whole thread about all the weird conspiratory theories these people have about how trans people’s whole existence is some sort of Jewish plot for world domination. I swear a few months ago they were all passing around a story about some bank having an above average number of trans employees and they were all just “and we all know who controls the banks, right?” about it.

Transphobes endorse an awful lot of people who are openly pro-pedophila.

This is the part where I am really loath to link the many many specific examples I have on hand. Or to talk about this at all for reasons of good taste. Or, for that matter, to talk about this in a tumblr post when there’s an ongoing problem of people with backgrounds strongly tied to this site making baseless accusations of pedophilia against every queer person they can find, so let me be very clear just what I’m talking about while avoiding anything too graphic.

That’s James Cantor. Transphobes love him for being one of the closest things they have to a scientist on their side. And I am featuring him in a screenshot here showing that he is followed by current queen of the transphobes J.K. Rowling, while speaking to both another big name in transphobic circles, Debra Soh, and based on their names, what I’m guessing is at least one straight-up nazi. And in case you think “the P” he’s talking about adding to LGBT (or “GLBT” as weird anti-queer bigots who also have issues with women often write it) might stand for “poly” or “pan” he’s all too happy to clarify that.

This is the entire thrust of Cantor’s work and life. He is the world’s biggest pedophile rights advocate. He wants it declassified as a mental disorder, all stigma on it removed, and tirelessly pushes forward the idea that the majority of.. people who feel compelled to sexually assault children are good people who present no potential harm to anyone and should in fact be lauded.

I am not generally one to claim that someone with a PhD is spewing out questionable garbage with regard to their field, but the reason I am aware of Cantor at all is that other transphobes keep trying to hold up a particular post on his blog as "a study” (which it is not) that offers “proof” (in the form of a blurry jpeg of basically some random numbers) of some ridiculous quackery about how trans kids will “grow out of it” if exposed to conversion therapy (another way of saying torture), which Cantor himself seems to be pushing, so I am somewhat skeptical of his academic chops. And I am, of course, REALLY suspicious that all these other bigots gravitate to him purely because they’re that desperate to find anyone with a PhD in anything that backs them up against literally every scientist in a relative field, to the point that they merely forgive his particular advocacy they are plainly all aware of, particularly when such a common fig leaf used by transphobes is “keeping children safe from sexual deviants.”

And of course, Cantor is most often invoked when coming to the defense of Kenneth Zucker. This Kenneth Zucker.

Those are separate papers. Zucker isn’t controversial though for organizing panels to discuss how attractive people agree small children are (at least not exclusively). Mostly, he’s known for running a conversion therapy center which subjected gay and trans children to various sorts of torture in an effort to “fix” them, which at least for those trans "patients” I have spoken with involved a fair amount of having them strip completely naked and talking a lot about their genitals.

Zucker is something of a controversial figure with the transphobic scene, as they are extremely on board with his sexual torture of queer children, but he does actual work (for some value of the term) involving trans people and thus is not able to commit as fully as they would prefer to making life horrible for trans people, due to a professional obligation to acknowledge reality now and then. As an aside, the similarly positioned Ray Blanchard, while not to my knowledge particularly interested in the attractiveness of children, lives in a similar purgatory of trying to reconcile his career, bigotry, and sexual hangups, yielding compromises like this:

Of course, that’s just looking at the straws transphobes grasp at when looking for scientific credibility. Real leaders of the movement include Germaine Greer, author of The Beautiful Boy, which is about what you are afraid it might be, and features a very young child in a cover feature he did not consent to posing for. Or Julie Bindel, who among other things is rather infamous for writing whole articles on subjects like whether a teenage girl she came across maybe has a huge penis you can totally see if you really squint at her skirt. Again, I will not share a link to go along with that one.

Transphobes terrorize and attempt to defund charities and other unambiguously good organizations.

Graham Linehan, previously best known for cowriting some sitcoms and possibly spending a year angling to get into my pants so awkwardly I didn’t pick up on it is now best known for trying to pull the plug on a children’s charity, in a story that somehow also involves Donkey Kong. Well, and the interview about nazis. And possibly the other interview about “defending me from nazis” until it got into his head that I might not be as young and hot as he imagined. Rather not link to a far right extremist youtube channel though.

There’s also a current effort to replace Stonewall (an organization named after the location where a pair of trans women kicked off a riot which is generally agreed to be the start of the LGBT+ rights movement) as the UK’s primary LGBT+ rights organization with the “LGB Alliance.” The hate group mentioned above, with the skull face and the rifle. Closest I can find to an article on that effort on short notice that isn’t propaganda.

Transphobes paper areas in truly disgusting propaganda.

I don’t want to directly link to grown adults skulking around children’s playgrounds and bathrooms plastering surfaces with mass printed stickers of crudely drawn penises, but would encourage you to read this very long post, being sure to load all the images, to really understand how deeply strange this behavior gets.

Finally, I cannot stress this enough, this really extreme behavior I’m citing, and the specific people involved in the examples I’m giving, these aren’t random cranks on the fringe of things. The people going on televised panel discussions, writing up news stories, and testifying before lawmakers in efforts to pass horrifically discriminatory if not literally life-endangering laws (there is a major ongoing effort to legally end all medical care for trans people, and I don’t just mean care directly relating to being trans) are literally the same people involved in the sexualization of children, nazi collaborations, and roving gangs assaulting people in the street. At a bare minimum I urge people, when booking guests and handing out writing contracts, to do background checks and see if they’re platforming actual terrorists. If we could actually bring legal consequences to bear against the worst of this, that would be great too. As things stand though, the whole world is just consistently citing a bunch of racist, woman-hating, serial liars with no real credentials, and questionable attitudes towards the sexual abuse of children, as “trusted experts” and refusing to seat actual trans people or people who have legitimately committed lifetimes to academic and practical work with trans people any seats at the table.

#trans #transphobia #educational resources

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ickle-ronniekins · 4 years ago

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the switch

request from nonnie!!! : Hey, love your writing! I would love to read a Fred x reader where like him and George are trying to convince you they are each other but you know which is which. And then you like go along with it because you get fed up of them messing you around and it becomes like a game to see who gives in first? Preferably Fred! Thanks!

pairing: fred x reader

word count: 1.7k

A/N: adorable. just adorable. love this idea. love cheeky fred. love it all. just trying to bang these requests outta the park lol

tag list: @mintlibri @seppys-return-to-madness @how-do-life-does @fopdoodledane @fredd-weasley @iprobablyshipit91 @semmelsemi @cottageoflove @laneygthememequeen @snakesonaplane-7 @lupinsx @keoghans @helloallthethingsilove @bobduncanlover @dreamer821 @the-hufflepuff-of-221b @62442-am | message me to be added lovelies!

It was late in the afternoon when you heard a bunch of laughter and whispers from behind you. You noticed their reflections in the window and sighed. These two were about to squash any hope that you had of finishing this Divination paper before the end of the evening. You put your quill down and took a deep breath.

“Hey,” Fred said brightly. You turned around to see them taking their places on either side of you.

“We need your help,” George told you plainly, crossing his arms and leaning back against the table. He pushed your parchment to the side so as not to smear the wet ink. “Pretty please.”

You folded your arms across your chest and rolled your eyes at their request. You already didn’t like this. “And what, may I ask, d’you need my help with?”

“Georgie here needs some assistance with his Potions essay, and we all know what a great Potions master you are, Y/N—a young, female Professor Snape, if you will.”

You sneered at them both as they erupted into laughter. You furrowed your brows in confusion. You looked back and forth between the two of them quite hurriedly—wasn’t it George who’d just spoken? Before you could make any snap judgements, the twin on your left continued with a cheeky grin— “I’d assist him but I’ve still got detention with McGonagall for trying to transfigure that Slytherin into a fish during class.”

“So what do you say?” the twin you knew was Fred asked you, pouting a bit. “Will you help me?”

You felt your heart begin to pound against your ribcage as Fred pleaded with you—the thundering of your heart began for no reason, of course, other than that you were worried you weren’t going to finish your Divination assignment in time. You suppressed the thought. It occurred to you that whatever type of mischief they were up too, they’re not going to go down without a fight. So at this point, you might as well just go along with their harmless little scheme.

You licked your lips impatiently and said, “Okay then, George—” it was quite obvious to you that it was Fred you’d been speaking too; you’d know that smirk from a mile away— “Let’s get started, then. Have a grand old time in detention, Fred. I reckon you probably deserve it.”

Fred laughed haughtily while he pulled his spellbooks out from his bag; George, on the other hand, stood up rather begrudgingly and slumped his shoulders, not looking too keen on going to detention for his twin. “Yeah—not one of my brighter ideas, I reckon,” he complained through gritted teeth with a sneer at Fred. He left you both in the crowded Great Hall and vanished in the corridor with a wink as quickly as he’d arrived just a few minutes prior.

“So what’s this assignment?” you asked.

“Have got to finish this essay on Everlasting Elixirs,” Fred replied, pulling at his hair. His frown deepened when he looked down at the half finished essay in front of him.

“And why’ve you come to me for this?”

“You’re the best at Potions in our year,” he told you, as if it were obvious. You couldn’t help but grin at him. “Well, at least that’s what Fred says.”

“Oh really?” you asked. You couldn’t help it. He’d piqued your interest.

“Can’t say I don’t agree with him,” Fred smirked, “bloke knows what he’s talking about.”

“Sure does,” you replied, feeling your heart rate increase a bit, “but the lad still ends up in ridiculous schemes that land the two of you in detention more often than not.”

Fred frowned again before a small grin began tugging at the edges of his lips, “Yeah, well—what can we say? Always trying to impress people, we are.”

“Mhmm,” you agreed, peering down at the parchment to see just how far he’d gotten in his assignment. Not far at all. You had quite the evening in front of you. “Alright, so, let’s open to the chapter..”

You hadn’t quite noticed just how much time had passed until you looked up and noticed the dark sky outside the windows. Was it really almost time for the feast? Fred was scribbling his conclusion down onto his parchment while you did the same for your Divination assignment.

“So what’re your plans for Christmas, then?” he asked, not looking up from his bit of parchment, “Staying for the Yule Ball or heading home?”

You paused for a moment, taking this in. Yule Ball talk? Was he trying to ask you to go with him? Wasn’t he already going with someone? Why was Fred bringing this up in conversation? It is possible that he knew, deep down in his heart of hearts, that you wanted him to ask you? How had he possibly found out? You seemed to be so good at hiding your feelings—even from yourself. But then, you remembered, he was supposed to be George, and so you kept on. “I reckon I’ll stay—won’t you?”

“Yeah, ‘course,” Fred smirked, dipping his quill back into his ink quickly. “Besides—mum and dad are already going to Romania to visit Charlie, and I don’t fancy being in an empty Burrow without my mum’s cooking.”

“You going with anybody, then, Georgie?” you continued on, biting down on your lip to suppress a large grin, trying to keep calm as your heartbeat increased.

Fred stopped for a moment to consider the conversation. He stressed, “Nope. Not yet, anyway,” and winked, “have got to help Freddie first, haven’t I?”

You had to give it to him, he was pretty good at staying in “character”—not once slipping up at this so-called act of pretending to be his twin brother. Identical in looks, yes, but not in personalities. But help Fred with what, exactly? You tried desperately to hide how interested you seemed; you glanced back down at your parchment and blew gently on the drying ink. “Helping Fred find a date, huh?”

“Yeah, I am.”

“That’s sweet of you, that is.”

Fred sat up straighter and you could tell he was feeling much more confident (if that’s even possible). Then, he began, much to your surprise, “He wants to take you, you know.”

You were almost sure you’d spontaneously combusted in that exact moment. Your entire body nearly went rigid at the thought: Fred Weasley wanting to ask you to the ball? What kind of rubbish game was this anyway?

You swallowed thickly, not looking up from your parchment. You tried to paint the most amused expression on your face to hide any signs of pure glee at the thought of Fred, the boy you’d been head over heels for forever, wanting to ask you out. You realized you should probably say something back; you didn’t want to look so incredibly speechless at this sudden turn of events. You raised your eyebrows and cleared your throat, hoping to stay in some type of control, and said a bit incredulously, “Is that so?”

Fred shrugged a bit and smirked at you. “That’s what he tells me, anyway.”

You realized, as you sat across from Fred who wanted you so desperately to believe him to be George, that these twins could be right geniuses when they wanted to be. You licked your lips, swung your bag across your shoulders and replied with batted eyelashes, “That’s cute. It’s too bad I like you, Georgie.”

You could hear an audible scoff from the table behind you as you made your way out of the Hall, heart thundering against your ribcage as Fred followed you swiftly. He grabbed your arm just as you’d exited; you tried to paint the most innocent expression on your face to keep from laughing.

“Hey, wait up, Y/N!”

You turned, your back now facing the wall, as Fred looked both impressed and a bit intrigued. “You—you like me?”

“Yeah,”

You found his furrowed brows and slight grin much, much cuter than you wanted too. Why was he smiling? “Oh, well—I reckon we should go together, then.”

You cocked your head to the side as if to say, I see right through you so you’d better give it up, and peered up at him with what can only be described as puppy-dog eyes.

Realization washed over Fred like a cool tide; you watched as his expression of pure mockery turned both cheeky and excited. He told you, “You know it’s me.”

You slapped him across the chest playfully with your spellbook. “Well of course I do, you git! You two can’t get anything past me.”

“Well, I dunno about that,” he said through a laugh.

“Fred, if you wanted to ask me to the ball, why didn’t you just ask?” You couldn’t help but grin at him. Even through all these hoops he made you jump through, these harmless games he loves to play, it’s extremely difficult not to turn to complete putty in his hands. “Why this—switch?”

“Wanted to mess with you a bit,” he replied, leaning against the wall behind you, “wanted to get a feel for things.”

“Hmm. It’s a shame I’ve told you that I fancy George, then.”

His smirk deepened at your teasing; he inched closer, making you press your back into the wall behind you and drop your bag to the floor, “Love, you can’t get anything past me, either.”

You groaned at how obvious you were about just how much you fancied him; hearing his laugh so close to you made your heart flutter. You swallowed down a lump in your throat and avoided his eyes at all costs. Guess you couldn’t really hide your feelings anymore, not with him mere inches from you. You began to fumble nervously a bit with his tie— “All this just to ask me out. And you’ve made your poor brother go to detention for you?”

Fred laughed, moving yet another inch closer, “Have got to buy him an excessive amount of butterbeer and Zonko’s products to make up for it.”

Feeling confident, you pressed your lips together and asked, “Worth it?”

“Definitely.”

You found that his free hand was tightly wound around your waist; it’s not possible, you thought, for your heartbeat to be any louder than it is right now. You’re quite sure he could hear it.

“So what is this, then?”

“Well I’m hoping,” he replied, bringing his other hand around the back of your neck, “that this means you’re my girlfriend now.”

Everything you’d ever wanted since you first met him all those years ago was right in front of you. Feelings came rushing to the surface. You swallowed thickly again; he always knew how to make you breathless.

“How does that sound?”

You nodded and let him press his lips to yours before you could say anything since it was evident to you both that you were certainly at a loss for words, anyway.

reblogs & feedback are appreciated, thank you for reading & requesting darlings x

#fred weasley #george weasley #fred and george weasley #weasley twins #weasley twins imagine #weasley twins fanfic #weasley twins fanfiction #fred weasley reader insert #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley fanfic #fred weasley fanfiction #fred weasley imagine #hp imagine #hp fanfic #hp fanfiction

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janeyseymour · 4 years ago

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"the wrath of mama seymour- or whatever the hell I’ve been labelled as" -Jane

Jane takes it upon herself to handle some nasty comments one particular account has been leaving the queens.

WC: 3072

For the most part, the queens got rave reviews, and their queendom was full of love and support. Every once in a while though, the queens got some hate, specifically Anna of Cleves and Jane Seymour- the two queens who arguably had it the least bad. While the others got hate sometimes, it was never anything that the queens would deem as true. Some might tell Katherine or Anne that they were “whores”, but the two knew this was not true. History might have depicted them as this, but they lived their lives. They knew they weren’t. Anne had actively tried to reject the king, and Katherine was forced into her situations. What these people had said about Jane and Anna was true- or at least those two thought so.

The fourth queen wasn’t one to put up with the comments. She would openly complain about them to the other queens, and she had even made it a point to call out the hateful comments that she got. Jane Seymour wasn’t like this.

The silver queen, hot-tempered and not so kind in her first life, knew that if she had said anything, it would only fuel the hate comments. So, she stayed quiet about it, letting these comments eat at her slowly.

“You’re responsible for Anne’s death. Don’t you feel even the slightest bit guilty about that? Bitch.”

“We all know the “i’m a kind sweet mum” act is fake. If you’re a bitch, just show it and let us hate you.”

“You don’t even deserve to be in the show. You had it the easiest.”

“The only one he truly loved? He only loved you because you had a son. But that son died before he could even do anything. After you died, you still failed. You don’t deserve to be remembered as queen, and you definitely don’t deserve to be in the likes of the other queens.”

That one hurt. That one comment hurt. The third queen did what she could to let it roll off her shoulders, but to no avail. That comment made her stomach flip.

Still, she did her best to stay kind, finally deciding to put out a video on her Instagram in attempts to stop the hate coming her way.

“Hi queendom. It’s Jane,” she said as sweetly as she could. “I’m here to address something with all of you. As we know, the idea of the queendom is to build others up, not tear them down. Now, I know we all know I say in my song that I’m unbreakable.” She paused, mulling over how she was going to word this. Her tone lowered a bit as she spoke quietly, “But the truth is, I’m not.” Her voice broke a bit as she said this. “I see every comment you all leave. I see every direct message, every private message, all of it. The kind comments are so lovely, and I appreciate them all so much. The not-so-kind comments are few and far between, and for that I’m thankful, but the ones that I do see hurt. I think we all just need a reminder to be kind to one another. Please remember the golden rules we were all taught: treat people the way that you want to be treated. If you can’t say anything nice, don’t say anything at all. That’s all I have to say for today, but I’ll leave you with this- you are enough. I’m sending you all so much love! Thank you.” She blew a kiss to the phone and waved before turning the camera off.

Almost immediately, fans started outpouring love to the third queen.

Roseamongstthethorns: i just wanna know who said something mean to jane because we are going to have some words

Sixqueenswalkintoabar: @janeyseymour we love u pls know that

AnnieBoleyn: whos talkin shit on my janey. I’ll fight em for u

Jane rolled her eyes at the green queen’s comment before replying.

JaneySeymour: @annieboleyn, i’m just speaking in general terms. Also, language dear.

AnnieBoleyn: @janeyseymour i say what i want #sorrynotsorry

Catherine_Aragon: you chaotic gremlin @annieboleyn

Jane laughed a bit at what Catherine had commented when she saw a notification pop up. A direct message from the account that had left that one particularly nasty comment.

Stop acting like you don’t talk shit on people. All you did was talk shit on Anne in your last life. That’s what got you the “queenly position” that you clearly didn’t deserve in the first place. Right? Just shut up bitch.

And so, Jane shut up. She ended up deleting her last post where all she did was try to address the issue, something that the other queens did quite often. She almost deleted her entire page accidentally (or not-so-accidentally if you asked the third queen).

“Janey! What are you trying to do: delete your whole account?” Anne teased.

“N-No,” the silver queen stammered out. “I-I uh, was just trying to delete a post. I guess I just hit the wrong button. Could you show me how?” She feigned confusion. It worked- the blonde was always asking for social media guidance anyway.

Everyday, this hateful account would send her messages. And every single day, against her better judgement, she opened the messages. The silver queen would roll her eyes and try to go on with her day, but it was affecting her, and the other queens were starting to take notice.

“Mum?” Katherine tried to get her adoptive mother’s attention. “Are you okay?” She had glanced at Jane, who was staring at her phone with tears in her eyes.

“Hmm?” The blonde lifted her gaze to the pink haired queen. “Oh.” She blinked away the tears. “I’m just fine dear. Just-”

“Are you having some trouble reading what’s on your screen?” The fifth queen was trying to be helpful. It was known in the house that the blonde wasn’t the most educated when it came to reading and writing. It was also known that Jane sometimes had a hard time reading what was on her screen if she didn’t have her glasses. “Here. I can help you.”

“Oh no, it’s nothing. I just-” The blonde was interrupted when the youngest queen took the phone out of her hand and read over the message on the screen, a horrified look appearing on her face.

“This fucking account,” Katherine huffed.

“Kit,” Jane sighed, never one for cursing unless necessary.

“Mum, this is necessary. This account has been harassing all of us.”

“Have they really been?” Jane’s interest piqued. Kat nodded her head. “Interesting.”

Over the next few days, Jane stayed quiet on social media. She saw the tweets and the comments on her “most recent post” asking why she deleted the video of her talking about being kind. Before she made her next move, she had to speak to the other queens.

“Hey Lina?” Jane asked one night as she was making dinner, the first queen accompanying her.

“What’s up Jane?”

“Kat told me about this horrid account and how they’ve been sending all of us hate messages. Do you mind if I take a look at what they’ve been sending you?”

“If you want, but you have to promise you won’t go all Mum.”

“I- I can’t promise that, but I’ll do my best.” The Hispanic handed over her phone, the messages already on screen. The first queen knew the exact account she was alluding to.

Queenly my ass. If you were so queenly, Henry wouldn’t have gone through all of the trouble he went through to divorce your sorry ass.

“What the-”

“It’s really not a big deal mija. Whoever this is, they don’t matter. Just leave it be.”

“Annie?” Jane wandered into the second queen’s room as they were all winding down for bed that night.

“What’s up Janey? Need some makeup remover again?” the green queen laughed as she scrounged her room for the wipes that the third queen asked for every once in a while.

“Actually, no. I bought a big thing of them the other day. I came to ask about something else.”

“Oh. What’s up?” Anne unceremoniously threw herself down on her bed.

“Kit and Lina were telling me about this awful account that has been-”

“Do you want to see the messages?” The blonde nodded, and the green queen threw her phone at the blonde.

You deserved to be beheaded, you whore. You should’ve never been queen in the first place, chasing after the king and getting him to divorce Catherine. How does it feel to be so wanted for such a short amount of time before all you were was another body?

“Annie, know that is not true.”

“I know Janey. Why do you think I’ve just ignored it? He’s not worth any of our time anyway.”

“I mean, he’s going right against the entire reason for our show.”

“Yeah, but he’s just not worth it. Don’t go all Mama Bear on him, okay?” Jane shrugged.

“Cleves?” Jane made her way into the kitchen first thing in the morning. “Are you back from your run yet?” She pulled her robe close to her body, muffling a yawn as she reached for the coffee pot.

“Seymour, you’re up early,” the fourth queen noted as she walked in through the back door.

“Well you know we’re both the earliest risers. Anyway, I have a question for you.”

“You wanna see my phone to check for any messages from that one shit account on Instagram?”

“How- how did you know?” Jane sputtered, flabbergasted.

“I heard you talking to Aragon and Boleyn. Here.” Anna tossed the blonde her phone.

“I don’t have my glasses with me. Oh boy.” Jane squinted her eyes to see the text on the phone.

Ugly bitch. How’s it feel following the only queen he truly loved, only to be rejected 6 months later? Shouldn’t even be compared to the other five. No idea how you managed to get yourself into the group, you irrelevant bitch.

“What he said isn’t true Cleves. You earned your place here.”

“What he said isn’t far from the truth Seymour. I know I didn’t have it the worst. I arguably had it the best if we’re being honest.”

“Please don’t let what he said get to you.”

“Hey Cath?” Jane wandered into the writer’s room late at night, two mugs of tea in hand.

“What’s up Jane? Can't sleep?”

“Not really. I’ve had a few things on my mind lately.”

“That account that’s just been shitting on all of us lately?” The sixth queen looked at the blonde knowingly. Jane just nodded.

“Here.” Cathy handed over.

What other stories do you have to claim? How about the one where you allowed your husband to groom Elizabeth, Anne’s precious daughter, and you joined in? Why don’t you reclaim that one, you sick twisted bastard?

“He’s-” Jane started.

“He’s not wrong.”

“Anne’s forgiven you for that.”

“She has, but I’ll never forgive myself. Is there a reason you’re so invested in this one account?”

“They’ve sent some not so kind things to me in the past few days.”

“Hey Kat?” Jane nudged the girl sitting next to her. When she heard a hum, she continued, “Can you tell me what that one account was saying to you?”

“Oh, it’s really nothing far from what other hate messages I’ve gotten.”

“Can I see? Only if you want to show me. You don’t have to of course.” The pink haired queen silently passed her phone over. The blonde adjusted the glasses on her face before she began to read.

You whore. You deserved to die. And I hope you felt that axe come down on your neck.

“Oh my god.” Jane was disgusted.

Did you really think you posting a stupid video of yourself speaking about being kind would stop me? It won’t. You six are all terrible women and it’s honestly deplorable that you would paint yourselves to be angels and use your stories to embrace the power of women when you know you have no power. You never did. You were all terrible people in your past lives. There is no way you changed that much in your present life. Worthless bitches.

To say the blonde was fuming was an understatement.

The next day, Jane went live- something she had never done before. It took her a few tries, but she was able to figure it out without any help from her fellow queens.

“Hello sweet queendom,” Jane said sweetly as she still tried to adjust her camera. “The other queens are out for the day, so I figured I would go live. We’re just going to wait a bit until a few more people get here, but then I have something that I’d like to say.”

The third queen greeted as many fans as she could as they made her way into the live, but she kept her eyes peeled for the one account that was sending them all hatred. As soon as she saw them enter, the warmth and love that had been in her eyes vanished.

“Ah, okay. I think we can get this started.”

Roseamongstthethorns: Why did you delete the video of you telling people to spread kindness?

“Well Rose, that’s actually why you’re all here right now. I have something to say about the hate that the fellow queens and I have been getting. So listen up, because I’m only going to say this once. Do you hear that, instagrammer1549?” She knew she was being ballsy calling out this one particular account, but there were no names attached to the account. She wasn’t doing anything to put this person full of hatred in danger.

“We can all deal with some of the not so kind comments that are thrown our way. We as queens choose to ignore them and carry on with what we do because we love what we do. We support each other, and we hope that using our voices and sharing a part of our story will help empower other women to share their stories too. We’re all in this together. However, when you start coming at us for things that we couldn’t prevent, like... dying... let’s say, it is absolutely disgusting. Catherine couldn’t prevent being divorced. She handled that situation like a queen, even going as far to get down on her hands and knees and beg Henry to let her know what she did wrong. Anne refused the king for years. I couldn’t help that I died, and I certainly couldn’t help that my son, who you have no right to talk about, was plagued with a sickness that took him much too soon from this earth. You have no right to talk to Anna like that. She was beautiful then, and she is beautiful now. And even if she wasn’t so beautiful on the outside, she is so much more beautiful on the inside than you could ever be. You sending those comments does not help your case much. Katherine was forced into those relationships. She was a mere child, and we all know that children can not consent. How very dare you go and tell a young woman that you hope she felt it as the axe came down on her neck. What kind of, as you called Cathy, “sick, twisted bastard” says something like that to a nineteen year old? And finally, how dare you bring up horrid stories from our past and plague Cathy with the guilt of something that happened almost 500 years ago.”

Sixtudorqueens: okay Jane, go off. We support.

“None of us are perfect. We all know our imperfections, and we’ve all made peace with it. Yes, we all did some very questionable things in our past. What happened then, while we all are horrified at our past behaviors, we have forgiven each other because we know the truth of our story. We did what we had to do to survive. But, the six of us as a group have made such wonderful process in this life, and we are truly coming out of it better than we ever could have by ourselves. Those girls are my family. Say what you want about me. I don’t care. I have a family to help me build myself back up when haters tear me down and my heart is broken. But, so help me god, if I hear of one more person coming after any of our children or my sisters again for something so personal- well,” Jane laughed bitterly. “-quite frankly, you don't want to know what will happen. Keep your disgusting comments to yourself.”

The comment section blew up, and the amount of likes her live was getting was astronomical.

Sixqueenswalkintoabar: okay mama seymour, GO OFF!

Roseamongsttthethorns: YES JANE. @instagrammer1549, there is a special place in hell for you.

Catherine_Aragon: Jane I thought we talked about not going Mum.

“Lina, I bit my tongue for long enough. It had to be said. On that note,” Jane paused to take a deep breath, the warmth that usually radiated off of her returning. “For the rest of the queendom who has shown us nothing but love and kindness, thank you. We really do see every message, comment and twitt-”

Sixtudorqueens: tweets*

“Tweet,” Jane corrected herself. “So thank you for that kindness. For now, I’m ending this live, but I do hope that you will all remember what I’ve said. Please, only spread kindness. That’s the, as Anne and Kat say, “vibe” that we’ve created for the queendom. If you don’t have anything nice to say, perhaps just don’t say anything at all. Please remember that you have a voice. Please remember to use that voice to spread kindness and love, not hatred. The world already has enough of that in the world. No need to create more.” With that, Jane ended the live.

“So,” Anne bit back a smirk at the dinner table that night.

“We all saw your live Seymour,” Anna bit the bullet and spoke about what they were all thinking.

“Kind of impressed you could figure that out without one of us Mum,” Katherine smiled slightly. “I'm proud of you.”

“What I said had to be said,” Jane affirmed as she took a bite of her dinner. “You don’t come after my family and not feel the wrath of “Mama Seymour” or whatever the hell I’ve been labelled as.”

#six the musical #six musical #six fanfiction #six the musical fanfic #six the musical fanfiction #six fanfic #six musical fanfic #jane seymour

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pepethehobbit · 4 years ago

Text

I wrote a van der stoffels AU for the Skam Holiday Event and because I am a giant mess I couldn’t stay with one theme and kind of jumbled a lot of them together? This story is basically for Day 1: Decorations, Day 3: Winter and Day 5: Parties

And because holidays are stressful even with Corona I didn’t manage to finish it on time, but it’s the 26th so it’s technically still Christmas, so I hope it’s okay that I post it now. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this little snippet of Jens and Lucas being dumb and in love.

„I’m sorry you want me to do what?“

„Pretend? Please, Luc. I know it’s such a weird thing to ask of you but I can’t stand their constant questioning and interrogation any more of when I will finally bring a nice girl or boy home, especially not around Christmas. My family is weirdly obsessed with my relationship status and that it’s currently single. I just want them off my back.”

Lucas hears what Jens is saying. And it’s nothing new either. Jens’ family really is oddly nosy about his relationship status even more so since he came out, as if the fact that he is bi would enhance his chances somehow. Lucas knows this frustration because Jens has talked to him about it a few times especially around holidays or Jens’ birthday, where his family is extra persistent about Jens finding someone.

Jens hasn’t done anything about it, he stays silent and then complains about it to Lucas later. Until now, Lucas guesses. Because Jens just asked him to come to his parents house for a Christmas family gathering with coffee and cake and a later dinner. But that is not the thing that took him by surprise. Lucas has spend a few Christmases at the Stoffels household, especially when his own family couldn’t be there for him or just straight up left one year like his father had. They basically spend every Christmas together in some capacity since Lucas moved to Antwerp when he was eleven and both of them becoming inseparable.

Jens has been Lucas’ best friend for eight years now and at first he thought Jens was kidding, but he recognizes a serious expression on his face when he sees one. He has years of experience to back it up. So that is the thing that surprises him. Jens is seriously asking him if he can come home with him for Christmas to pretend that he is Jens’ boyfriend. Lucas must have been too quiet for too long because Jens begins to backtrack. He shakes his head and then lowers it. His voice is filled with an unusual insecurity.

“Forget it, Luc. It was a dumb question to ask of me. They probably wouldn’t believe it anyway.”

“I’ll do it.”

It slips out before Lucas could consciously think about it. He wasn’t really planning on saying yes to this, because there was a voice in his head that immediately screamed: “No! Bad Idea!” But with the way Jens head snaps back up to him with a huge smile of relief he can’t bring himself to take it back.

The problem is, Lucas wants to be like that with Jens for real. It took him a while to figure it out after Jens broke up with Jana but he is definitely in love with his best friend and has been for two years. Pretending to be with Jens so his family gets off his back would be pure torture for Lucas. He knows exactly what his best friend is like when he is in a relationship. Jens doesn’t shy away from open affection, says the cheesiest shit that he makes out to be a joke (but Lucas knows he means every single one of them) and is just in general the most attentive and supportive boyfriend anyone could ask for. Maybe Lucas is a bit biased on this topic but he is pretty sure that being on the receiving end of these things from Jens would not help him at all to get over his best friend like he should. Especially with the knowledge that it’s all fake from Jens’ side. He would get a glimpse of what it would be like and then Jens would snatch it all away and thank him for being such a good friend. Lucas is not sure if his heart would survive that.

“Really? Luc, oh my god, thank you! You really don’t know how annoying they are. I don’t know what’s gotten into them lately but they are worse than ever.” Jens seems so relieved and Lucas’s heart breaks a little more. He just needs to be medical about this, needs to set up some rules that he and Jens can stick to so Jens doesn’t do anything that Lucas wouldn’t recover from. Like kissing him.

“Have you thought about how we would sell it? Because your family knows me pretty well, knows we’ve been friends for years. What’s the story?”

Jens ducks his head for a second and then raises it with a sheepish smile. “Well, I didn’t really expect you to say yes to this, so I didn’t do a lot of planing ahead. Maybe we can do that together?”

After an hour or so they had it all planed out and rules to stick to. When Lucas mentioned rules, Jens got a bit confused (Rules? What kind of rules?) and Lucas had to fight down the urge to roll his eyes. “Well, don’t you think that your family will find it weird when we won’t touch all evening? We need some rules of what is allowed and what isn’t.”

Lucas felt so awkward in that moment. Not only talking to your best friend about what is and isn't off limits but at the same time trying to stop thinking about how much he wants Jens to do all of things for him for real. After agreeing that holding hands and a little bit of cuddling is definitely okay, Jens suddenly got very shy again and asked with a small voice: “What about kissing?”

Lucas’ very fast and firm “No!” seemed to shock Jens a little bit and a look of disappointment flashed across his face which made Lucas momentarily mad at Jens. He has no right to be upset about this, he can’t be expecting Lucas to kiss him for the sake of making it believable. Lucas’ could not go back from that. Kissing Jens, knowing what it would feel like, what he could have if Jens only returned his feelings, no that’s too much for Lucas. “No, you’re right. Sorry. I wouldn’t want to make you more uncomfortable about this evening than it will probably already be.” Lucas doesn’t point out that kissing Jens would be the exact opposite of uncomfortable for him and just lets him think that that’s why he draws the line at kissing. “It will be like any other Christmas I have spend with your family, Jens. The only difference is that we will have to pretend to be madly in love, stick to our story and hold hands the entire time, what could go wrong?” Jens chuckles at Lucas’ obviously fake positive outlook for the evening and said: “Famous last words, Lucas.”

And that is how he currently finds himself on the steps of Jens’ old family home with Jens hesitantly taking his hand in his and asking: “Ready?” Jens slowly raises his other hand to ring the bell but Lucas interrupts him: “Wait. Let’s go over it again.” Jens lets his hand fall again and with the other one he gives Lucas an encouraging squeeze. “Luc, we’ve been over this a million times. They won’t notice a thing. We got this, okay?” Lucas doesn’t have the chance to respond because then the door is being opened and Jens’ mum gives them an enthusiastic welcome. She doesn't notice their joined hands and simply hugs them both. It gives Lucas an instant kind of comfort. Mama Stoffels has always been there for him. When he couldn’t be around his own family she opened up her home to Lucas as often and as long as he needed.

“You must be freezing. Come in, come in. The others are already here. You’re the last to arrive.”

They get in and the familiarity of the surroundings help Lucas to calm down even more. He knows these people, he knows the place and he knows Jens. The only thing he has to do is to pretend to be in love with Jens for one day. It wouldn’t even be pretending for Lucas. The only thing he has to do is to let down his carefully constructed wall that keeps Jens from knowing Lucas’ true feelings for him. Lucas only hopes that he can rebuild the wall once this day is over.

Mama Stoffels already left for the living room while Lucas and Jens shove off their jackets, scarfs and beanies, expecting them to follow her to the room where the rest of Jens’ family already waits for them. Lucas looks nervously up at Jens and then at the door which is currently still hiding them from the storm of questions they are about to receive when they walk through that door.

Jens takes his hand again, which is part of the plan and asks: “Ready? We can still not do this. It’s your choice.”

“No, I’m ready. Let’s do this. You owe me big time for this, though.”

Jens grins at him easily and says: “I know, thank you, Luc. And believe me, the next four vettige vrijdag are on me.”

“Alright, I can live with that.”

Jens squeezes his hand once more and opens the door.

Lucas knows more or less everyone in this room. Jens’ parents of course, his little sister Lotte and his older sister Lies he knows best but he has met both of Jens’ aunts, uncles and grandparents several times as well. There are a few faces he doesn’t know, mostly younger kids who don’t pay attention to them anyway (Jens said a few of his younger cousins would be there as well). The first one to see them enter is Lies and Lucas has to hold in his laugh at the way her face goes through confusion, to understanding and lastly arrives at pure and utter joy.

“Oh my god, finally!” Lies all but screams and that works to get everybody else’s attention as well. Lucas feels the eyes of nearly everybody in the room on them and sees how they their gazes swipe down to their tangled hands and up again. He looks nervously over to Jens because that’s most definitely his job right now.

Jens clears his throat and says: “You know how you always annoy the crap out of me to find someone nice to date? Yeah, well. I did.” With that he gives Lucas’ hand a squeeze and raised their joined hands so everybody can see them properly.

The silence that follows is grating on Lucas’ nerves but then everybody kind of erupts in enthusiastic screams and shouts over each other. Lucas’ doesn’t understand everything but he thinks the overall consensus about the revelation is that everybody is thrilled for them and the world “finally” is heard a little too often for Lucas’ comfort.

Lies is the one to bring them all to silence. “Guys, stop! I know we are all thrilled that they finally got their head out of their asses but let them say hello first.” Lucas doesn’t want to think about the implications of Lies’ statement and is glad that he gets distracted by her pulling them both towards the table, giving them both a firm hug and setting them down at two empty seats.

As everybody is kind of settled again, the silence returns and Lucas’ should have known that the gleam in Lies’ eyes would mean that this is far from over for both of them.

“And now the interrogation can begin. So, shoot. How did this happen?”

All the curious eyes are on them again and Lucas looks over to Jens to find him already staring. He hopes his eyes convey his silent support because this first portion of the plan is definitely all Jens. All Lucas has to do is sit here and look convincingly in love with Jens, which again is not really a hardship for him anyway.

“Well you all know that we’ve been friends for a long time now and a few months ago I started to realize that my feelings for him changed.” Jens takes Lucas’ hand again and places it in his lap, it’s an obvious enough gesture to support the story. Lucas notices how the mischievous gleam in Lies’ eyes is replaced with a much softer, fonder one. “Then I drunkenly kissed him at a party one night and lucky for me Lucas kind of stopped me and said ‘Kiss me again in the morning, when you’re not drunk.’ And that’s what I did and now we’re here.”

Lucas couldn’t help the blush that spread on his face, even though the story is completely fake, the thought of Jens kissing him just does that to him. It seemed to help their case though, as Papa Stoffels points out: “Look at you blush, Lucas. I always knew Jens would eventually fall victim to your charm.”

At this Jens lets out an incredulous “Dad!” but Lucas can’t help but laugh. Jens fixes him with an over exaggerated indignant gaze and Lucas just needs to tease him. “So my charms are what finally got to you, huh? Tell me, what exactly about my charms was it? The handsome looks? The devastatingly funny sense of humor? The -”

Before he can continue Jens hides his head in the crook of Lucas’ neck and mumbles loud enough for the others to hear as well: “Shut up oh my god, you’re so annoying.” While he speaks he feels Jens’ lips lightly move against his neck and Lucas suddenly has a hard time coming up with a response. Thankfully, he is saved by Mama Stoffels.

“Well, Jens. You didn’t deny any of those things, either.” Her tone is cheeky and it’s not the first time Lucas’ notices the similarities in their natures between Jens and his Mum.

Jens lifts his head to stare accusingly at the rest of his family and says: “You are all annoying. Can we eat our cake now, please?”

Lies’ fixes them both with a stare. “You can. But don’t think this is over. The interrogation has only just begun. I want to know everything.” Her words sound harsh but she says them in such a fond tone Lucas can see them for what they are. She seems so genuinely happy and not that surprised at the news that he and Jens are dating that Lucas wonders if she has always kind of known how he really feels about her brother. But he can’t worry about that now as they get drawn into the conversation around them. He can feel himself relax in the presence of these people who he would consider his second family. At one point Jens puts his arm around Lucas’ shoulder to pull him into his chest while talking to his grandparents. A gesture they don’t usually share and should feel unnatural but it being the exact opposite. Lucas forgets that this is only pretending and decided to soak up as much of Jens’ freely offered affection as possible. Because if he is only allowed to have them for one night he is going to make the most of it.

He fully snuggles up to Jens, links their fingers together and begins tracing the moles on Jens’ arm with the other. Something he always wanted to do. When the conversation gets dragged back to them and about how they got together, Lucas gets brave and offers a sign of affection of his own. Jens is in the middle of explaining how he confessed his feelings for his best friend when Lucas raises his hand to strike a hand through Jens’ raven black hair. Jens’ falters for a second, then looks at Lucas with big eyes and a small smile on his face that has Lucas’ insides churning. It’s not a look that he would usually receive from Jens and it’s doing things to Lucas, like forgetting that this is all pretend.

“You two are going to be that couple I can already tell. You are both so smitten.” It’s Lies’ voice once again that interrupts their weird moment of eye contact. Lucas tries to find his voice again because Jens is just ducking his head, trying to hide a blush that Lucas can see rising up his neck anyway. He tries to steer the conversation away from them to get them to safer grounds.

“Don’t pretend that you and Josh wouldn’t be the same if he was here. You are ten times worse than us.”

“He is right you know.”

“Mama!” Lies’ indignant tone raises a laugh from all of them and the conversation moves on around them. Jens is still not looking at Lucas and he has pulled his hand back to himself. Lucas nudges him with his elbow but Jens doesn’t look up.

“Hey, you alright?,” Lucas asks quietly so that the others don’t hear.

Jens takes a deep breath and finally looks up at Lucas with an expression that’s much more closed and sadly one that Lucas is much more used to, nothing compared to how he had looked at Lucas just moments prior.

“Yeah, I’m okay. All good.” Lucas is not convinced but he can’t exactly nudge Jens for more when they are surrounded by his family within hearing distance. “I’ll go see if Dad needs help in the kitchen, be right back.” With that he stands up and leaves Lucas confused and alone with his family. Something happened there and Lucas isn’t sure what. Jens is just pretending. Why is he suddenly fleeing when it seems to be working? Isn’t this exactly what Jens had wanted?

Lucas doesn’t have a chance to think about this further as Lotte, now twelve years old, calls for him to come to the door which leads to the kitchen. “What’s up Lotte?” he asks once he has reached her but she is suddenly turning around, calling for Jens in the kitchen without answering his question. Lucas is confused but then Jens stands in the doorway with him and asks Lotte the same question who gazes at them both with a bright smile on her face.

“Look up.” Jens and Lucas share a confused look but do as they’re told and realization begins to sink in. Mistletoe. Lucas lowers his gaze again and locks eyes with Jens straight away. The one rule he is still unsure about wanting to break and Jens seems equally hesitant.

“People are supposed to kiss under a Mistletoe, right? So kiss.” Lotte says it as if this would be the easiest thing in the world and from the corner of his eye he can see that they gathered quite the attention even though the rest of Jens’ family tries to be subtle about it.

He takes a step towards Jens, never leaving his eyes. Jens returns his gaze with an equal amount of vulnerability and questions. Lucas takes his hand in his and decides to just go for it. Screw the consequences. This evening is an exception to everything and suddenly he really wants to know what it feels like to have Jens’ lips on him, at least once. As quietly as possible he whispers: “It’s okay.” He can see Jens starting to argue, he obviously remembers how adamant Lucas was about no kissing. But now Lucas doesn’t care. “It’s okay,” he whispers again and he can see the protest fleeing out of Jens’ eyes.

It’s Jens that closes the final distance between them. He sees how Jens’ eyes flutter shut before his own follow. Their noses touch, sending a shiver down Lucas’ spine in anticipation. When Jens angles his head and finally connects their mouths Lucas can only hold his breath. He thought Jens would go for a simple peck but once their lips are connected both of them can’t seem to let go of each other. Jens’ lips are warm and gentle and when he parts them against his own he tastes of the gingerbread cake they ate before. He feels Jens stepping even further into his space and beginning to move his lips against him with a slight tremble and Lucas melts into his chest.

A loud whistle is what separates them and they both all but spring apart from each other looking for the source of the noise. It was Lies, of course. Who else could it have been. Lucas chances a quick look at Jens but he is not paying him any attention, as if this kiss was completely ordinary and did not just completely turned Lucas world upside down. Which reminds him once again, this is pretend. Of course Jens is acting like this, because he doesn’t feel what Lucas feels and because he can’t act like this was their first kiss when they are supposed to have kissed for over a month now.

“Oh Lies, shut up. You’re just jealous because Josh isn’t here.” Lies looks like she is ready to throw back another teasing remark when Jens’s father steps out of the kitchen. “Jens, language!” His son ducks his head, ruffles Lotte’s hair, who still stands next to them and says “Sorry.”

“Well, if the show is over now, you can all come into the kitchen. The buffet is open now. I hope you’re all hungry.”

The general commotion that follows gives Lucas some time to collect himself. He tries to catch Jens’ eyes again but he seems very determined to ignore Lucas right now. Jens follows the others into the kitchen to get in line for the food and doesn’t say anything about what just happened. Lucas suddenly doesn’t feel that hungry anymore and flees to the bathroom.

He steps in front of the sink and looks up in the mirror. His eyes automatically zero in on his lips as if searching for proof that the kiss really happened. His fingers gently trace his own lips where Jens’ have been just a minute before, disbelieving. Lucas got what he wanted and it was simultaneously the best and worst kiss he has ever experienced. Kissing Jens has felt like coming home and just so utterly and purely right but it comes with the knowledge that is wasn’t the same for Jens. He was so nonchalant after, like he wasn’t affected at all whereas Lucas is now freaking out in a bathroom. How is he supposed to survive dinner and a few more hours with this play they put up for Jens’ family. All he wants is to go home and be alone so he can try and forget the kiss that cemented his feelings for his best friend. Before, there may have been a chance of getting over his crush but with the knowledge of how it feels to be kissed by Jens that chance is completely gone. He should have never agreed to this. But he has and Jens is still his friend. Lucas turns on the tap and splashes some water in his face and tries to collect himself. Only three more hours or so and then he can go home. One last deep breath and he opens the door to join the others again.

When he sets foot in the living room/dining room his eyes immediately find Jens and he looks at him as if asking him if he is okay. Lucas tries his most convincing smile and nods once, then turns around and makes his way to the kitchen to get some food. He sits down next to Jens and conversation with his family starts to flow easily again.

Dinner is not as bad as Lucas thought it would be. But he notices that Jens is more distant. Before he pulled Lucas into his personal space as much as he could and now he doesn’t even try to hold his hand. He is worried and relieved at the same time. Worried that he made Jens so uncomfortable with the kiss that he doesn’t even want to hold his hand anymore and relieved because Lucas is sure that he couldn’t have handled more fake affection from Jens. He softly nudges Jens with his elbow to get his attention. Jens turns around and looks at Lucas questioningly. “What is it?”

Lucas slowly leans forward and as quietly as possible he asks: “Are we okay?” Before Jens scolds his expression into a reassuring one Lucas saw the flash of sadness in his face. Anyone else would look over it but Lucas saw and it makes his stomach drop with anxiety.

“We’re okay.” But Lucas doesn’t relax with these words, not in the slightest. He knows that there is something going on in Jens that he wants to hide from Lucas and it's probably his fault and the fact that he was kind of forced to kiss Lucas when he probably really didn’t want to.

After desert Jens’ family slowly makes their way home member by member. Jens and Lucas stay a little bit longer after everyone already left. They are on the floor in front of the fake fireplace and play a round of The settlers of Catan with Jens loosing terribly and Lucas teasing him mercilessly for it, his parents and Lies joining him. Lotte is a sweetheart as always and tries her best to trade with Jens anything that he needs. Lucas is still very unnerved about this whole evening and what happened between Jens and him but this is familiar. It warms his heart to see how easy he fits in here and how natural it seems for Jens’ family to not only accept his presence but welcome him with open hearts to family evenings like this. It works to calm his nerves a little bit, especially because Jens seems to be more like himself as well. He leans more into Lucas and falls into their natural teasing so effortlessly as if he forgot the weird mood that surrounded them after the kiss.

In the end, Lies wins and she demands that everyone bows down to the queen of settlers. They jokingly indulge her but she looses their attention when Lotte runs to the window and excitedly jumps up and down and screams: “It’s snowing, it’s snowing. Look!!”

They all get up to look at the white powder falling from the sky, which has already covered the whole street in a thick layer of snow.

“Can we go outside and make snow angles?” Lotte asks in a voice so giddy that only an overly excited 12-year-old can manage.

“Lotte, it’s way too cold and it’s way past your bedtime already. The snow will probably still be there in the morning and then we can all go outside and have a little walk through the snow together okay?”

Lotte seems to accept that quite begrudgingly and mumbles something about boring party poopers under her breath which has Jens and Lucas eyes meet with shared amusement. His mom and dad usher Lotte upstairs and Lucas takes the opportunity to announce that they should be going as well.

“Lucas, you two can’t go now. It’s a twenty minute walk and it’s snowing very heavyly. Why don’t you two just stay in Jens’ old room? I’ll drive you both home tomorrow after breakfast.”

Lucas wants to argue, especially as he feels Jens stiffen next to him, bringing back the uncomfortable mood between them. He opens his mouth to say something but Lies interrupts him.

“Stop that. You’re not intruding, not at all. You are always welcome here you know that. Even more so then your boyfriend.” She says the last part with a wink towards her little brother who just fondly roles his eyes and shakes his head at his sister’s words. Lucas can hardly argue that but he still looks to Jens for confirmation that this is okay, especially after Jens seemed very uncomfortable with the idea of them staying the night. But then he pulls Lucas more into his side as he sees Lotte’s questioning gaze on them and says: “Sure, let’s stay for the night. More time to cuddle with you.”

Only now Lucas realizes that he has to share a bed with Jens for the night and he instantly regrets it again. Why. Why can’t he just say no for once in his life. It’s so weird between them right now. Even though Jens has him in his arms, he feels more than a thousand miles away from him.

They inform Jens’ parents and soon after say their goodnights to them and make their way upstairs to Jens’ old room. Lucas had tons of sleepovers here and they shared a bed many times before but this is different. He knows that he won’t get an ounce of sleep with Jens so close next to him. Jens informs him that there is a spare toothbrush in the bathroom and gives him some of his clothes to sleep in that he still keeps in his parents place. Even though Jens seems all chill Lucas sees through his act. The air between them is awkward and stilted and Lucas has no idea on how to fix this. Talking about it would probably help but Lucas isn’t ready to loose Jens yet, which will probably happen anyway with the way Jens acts kind of cold towards him.

They take turns in the bathroom down the hall and when Jens is gone Lucas settles in on the left side of the bed towards the windows. Jens comes back, turns off the light and Lucas feels the bed dip under his weight as Jens settles in next to him. The bed is big enough for both of them but their shoulders are still only a few inches apart and Lucas is very aware of the fact that his hand is very close to Jens’ own in the middle of the bed. A very uncomfortable silence stretches unbearably between them, not even a quiet goodnight, and it’s enough for Lucas to finally speak.

“I’m sorry for kissing you, Jens. It was obviously too much and I’m sorry that I made you uncomfortable. I know I said no kissing but everyone was looking at us and because you asked about it in the first place, when we sat up those rules, I thought you would be okay with it. But clearly it made you super uncomfortable because you have been weird for the rest of the evening and I’m sorry.”

Lucas is met with silence again and the fact that he can’t see Jens’ face in the dark makes him even more anxious. Then Jens speaks.

“Why did you decide to kiss me when you seemed so appalled to it earlier? You were the one that was clearly uncomfortable just at the thought of kissing me, so you could’ve easily said no or made a joke about it. You didn’t have to kiss me like you meant it when you clearly didn’t want to. So, why did you?”

Lucas is taken aback by the hurt in Jens’ voice and hates himself for being the reason for it. It makes him want to be honest, maybe Jens will be even more mad at him for basically using him but at least he won’t hurt him anymore by lying to him.

“I wasn’t appalled to the idea of kissing you. That is the whole problem, actually. I said no to kissing at first because I knew there would be no going back from that for me. But in that moment today I just went with the excuse because I knew it would be the only opportunity for me to ever know what it would be like to kiss you. And I’m sorry for that. I knew this was a bad idea from the start because I knew that my feelings would ruin this and I-”

A sudden light makes Lucas stop in his apology and confession in one. After adjusting to the sudden brightness he sees how Jens sat up in the bed and turned on the light in the bedside table. Lucas sits up as well and waits for Jens to say something. But he just looks at him with wide eyes full of doubt but also… hope?

Lucas sees how Jens’ hand slowly reaches for his own and sucks in a breath when Jens intertwines their fingers together. “What are you doing?”, Lucas asks with a shaky exhale of breath and looks up from their joined hands to Jens’ eyes. Something seems to be decided in Jens’ brain because the doubtful expression vanishes and is replaced with a softer look full of affection and determination.

“Luc, okay first of all. I wasn’t uncomfortable when we kissed, not in the slightest. Quite the opposite really. If anything it made me come out of my denial and proofed what I suspected for a while now.”

“Which is?” Lucas asks when Jens doesn’t continue. Hope begins to settle in his chest and an excited warm and fuzzy feeling spreads when Jens raises their joined hands to his lips and kisses Lucas’ hand.

“That I am in love with you.”

Lucas can’t do much but stare at Jens completely speechless as an overwhelming feeling of happiness washes over him. He feels how is lips stretch into a smile that he can’t help and then he grabs Jens by the front of his shirt, pulls him towards himself and kisses him again. Jens’ surprised yelp is smothered by their lips softly moving together and Lucas feels how Jens melts into him after the initial surprise. He lets his hand slide from the collar of the shirt to Jens’ neck and begins to play with the short strands of hair. Jens lets out a little satisfied sound and opens his lips for Lucas, inviting him in.

Lucas feels like he is floating when they eventually break apart. His eyes stay closed for a few seconds to bask in this feeling only a little while longer. He opens his eyes and is met with Jens’ most beautiful smile and begins to realize that he is the reason for that. Lucas can’t help himself and steals another short kiss from Jens before he says: “I love you, too. In case that wasn’t obvious.”

Jens laughs and shakes his head in disbelief. “God, Luc. Today was pure torture. The whole time I was asking myself ‘How can he be so good at pretending?’ And then that kiss and I… God, I was having a silent freak out after that kiss but I couldn’t show it and you were looking at me like that and I couldn’t handle that it was all pretend, that’s why I was so weird after. I finally came out of my denial for my feelings and it was because of a fake kiss with you.”

“I can’t believe I bought your chill act. I totally believed you weren’t affected by that kiss at all and it made me freak out and flee to the bathroom because I couldn’t handle the fact that I just kissed you.”

“We are so dumb.” Jens says with laughter and Lucas can’t help but agree. During this whole conversation he has been smiling so much his cheeks hurt. Jens is making him so unbelievably happy, he can’t believe he got so lucky.

“So, I guess the plan is off?”

Jens looks at him confused but the smile never leaves his face. Lucas isn’t much better off. “What do you mean?”

“You know, the plan where we would’ve told your family that we broke up in three weeks because we are better off as friends?”

At that Jens face light up with remembrance and he gets a teasing glint in his eyes. “Oh that plan. Yeah, I mean, I guess you can carry the title of my boyfriend a while longer if you want to,” he says with over exaggerated nonchalance.

“You guess?” Lucas indulges him in his teasing, tries to act offended but he can’t keep the smile off his face or the happiness out of his voice.

“Yeah, I wouldn’t bother me, you know. As long as you keep doing the things a boyfriend does,” Jens says with wiggling eyebrows and a teasing smirk. Lucas can’t help but lean in and wipe that smile of his face with his own lips. “Oh, I see. And what does that entail, exactly?” he asks when he leans back.

Jens closes the distance again and whispers against his lips: “More of that.”

They fall asleep embraced in each other and Lucas couldn't remember a time where he slept better than in Jens' arms. He woke up before Jens and lets himself admire the beauty that his a sleeping Jens. It's as if his fingers have a will of their own when they begin to trace Jens' face, from his forehead down to his eyebrows, then his nose and lastly his lips. They begin to twitch into a small smile but his eyes stay closed. Jens lets out a content hum. "I could get used to waking up like this."

"How long have you been awake?"

"Oh long enough to know that you've been staring at me," Jens says teasingly but he sounds way too happy for Lucas to really question if Jens is bothered by it.

Jens finally opens his eyes and reaches for Lucas' hand which has fallen down between their faces after Lucas was done with caressing Jens' face. He intertwines their fingers together and snuggles up even closer to Lucas.

"So, last night wasn't a dream then?" Lucas can't help but chuckle at the clichee words but he also kind of melts at Jens' sleepy and hopeful voice.

"Would it have been a good dream?"

Jens looks up into Lucas' blue eyes and with an expression full of affection and love he says: "The best."

Lucas agrees. He could get used to waking up like this as well.

#skamholidayevent #vds #van der stoffels #lucas van der heijden #jens stoffels #christmas fic #fake dating au #my writing

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probably-writing-x · 5 years ago

Text

Out of Love pt.4

Guzmán x Reader

Request by anon: Hi! I hope that you’re feeling okay ! Would you do a 4th part of your story Out of Love ? Stay safe ! Thank you for your writing ! 💕

Gif is not my own

Requests are closed🤍

“Do you remember when things first started with you and Guzmán?” Omar asks you over coffee one morning.

“Yeah, how come you ask?” You frown, handing him a plate of scrambled eggs on toast.

“Well, when me and Ander had a talk about everything and decided to actually take your advice,” He explains, “We spoke about when we first met. I wanted to know if you remembered the same thing about Guzmán.”

“And you think it will save our relationship?” You joke, “It was about three and a half years ago...”

—Three Years Earlier—

When you’d first started at Las Encinas, you’d promised your Mum that you would keep your head down and avoid mixing too much with the drama that always ensued in a place like that. She had a reputation to uphold. You’d tried your best to stick to that. Until a certain boy tried his best to flip that on its head.

“Marina you cant be serious,” You roll your eyes, flopping back on her bed as she sits at her desk.

“Come on! You know I wouldn’t say it unless I seriously meant it,” She defends, spinning in the chair as she lets out a laugh.

“This is your brother we’re talking about!” You sit upright to face her, “Shouldn’t you be discouraging anything happening between us?”

“Between my brother who has clear feelings for you and acts completely different when you’re around, and you - the girl who would be practically perfect for him?” Your best friend raises her brows, “That hardly sounds like a bad idea.”

“Marina I’ve heard how much you complain about him!” You laugh, “You hardly give a good impression!”

“But he’s so different when you’re around! It’s honestly adorable.”

Before she can continue, the boy of subject walks past her room. You couldn’t deny that Guzmán was an attractive boy, he had an odd mix of maturity and youthfulness that he sometimes didn’t find the right balance between. And, Marina was right, he did act completely different around you and it was sweet. But the idea of dating your best friend’s brother when you were so young already felt like a recipe for disaster.

“Come on, I see you looking at him...” Marina wiggles her brows, “It’s meant to be.”

“Meant to be?” You scoff, “We’re fifteen Marina! Nothing is meant to be when you’re fifteen. He’s your brother and he’s my brother’s best friend. That’s literally a recipe for the worst disaster.”

- - - - - -

“Thank you, I’ll see you tomorrow,” You smile to your teacher as she hands you a paper back.

You go to turn out of the class and instantly bump into someone who’d been stood just outside.

“Shit, sorry,” You mutter, glancing up to realise it had been none other than Guzmán stood in front of you.

“That’s okay, can I walk you to your locker?”

You look at him and let a furrow manifest between your brows, “What?”

“We have the same class next, so I’ll walk with you,” He shrugs, matching your pace as he walks by your side.

You glance over your shoulder like you’re expecting this to be a set up and for Marina to be behind it all. But she’s nowhere to be seen - in fact, you’re pretty sure she’s not in school today. Either that or you were expecting to see Ander shooting him a dagger-like glare from across the way.

“What are you doing Guzmán?” You frown, “Is something wrong?”

“Why does something have to be wrong?” He laughs, “How’s your day been?”

It was easy to get along with Guzmán. The two of you had been through a lot with Marina, especially after her HIV diagnosis. And you’d been the ones that each other had relied on to confide in when you tried to process it all. He was supportive when you were upset, and he assured you he felt the same. Something had changed between you after that. It was like you were looking at a different person. And, ever since then, Guzmán had always acted differently around you. Like he knew deep down that something had changed too.

Just as he’d said, he walked you to class and sat down in the seat beside you. He didn’t care for it belonging to someone else. He made comments all through the lesson to mock something the teacher had said or point out something amongst the class to make a joke about. You’re certain you’d never laughed so hard. By the end of the class, there were no notes on your page and tears streaming down your cheeks as the two of you had been in hysterical laughter for the past ten minutes.

You don’t notice as Guzmán looks over at you whilst you’re laughing. How he’s so focused on the way your eyes crease shut and you throw your head back. How your lips light up with the most bright smile he’s ever seen. It’s oddly enough a feeling that terrifies him. Because right there, beside you, he feels vulnerable for the first time in forever. He feels completely and utterly weak in your presence and it scares him that he won’t ever get that strength back. It was silly really. He should’ve just seen you as the girl that spent every day at his house in his sisters room, nothing more than a good friend to Marina. But, over the years, he’d heard you make her laugh more than anybody else. And he wanted to be the recipient of that comedy. He’d seen you give her the strongest, most genuine of hugs. And he wanted to be the one who had your arms wrapped around them. He’d seen you give her intense speeches of self confidence when she was feeling low. And he’d wanted nothing more than to come to you on his lowest days and watch you piece things back together like you were always made to be a part of them. And there, sitting beside you laughing in that lesson, he’d felt so vulnerable that all of that felt like a flood of what he’d started to learn to be love. He didn’t know how exactly Ander would take to learning something like that but he decided in that moment that it was worth it nonetheless.

“Well, thank you for giving me some extra work to catch up on,” You joke as the two of you walk out of the classroom.

You’d started to feel it too. That glint in his eye that felt impossible to ignore when he smiled at you. The way he listened to your words and picked up on the little details. How he’d make jokes he somehow knew you’d be the only one to find funny. How he defended you without any expectation to be the one on your side. He’d been there for his sister, and been there for you in the process. Where your tracks had been running alongside each side of Marinas, you’d somehow found a time along the way where you and Guzmán had become more connected than ever.

“I heard Marina talking to you yesterday,” Guzmán confesses as you reach the point where you should theoretically part ways, “Something about my acting different around you?”

You smirk a little, “Yeah she might’ve mentioned that.”

“Don’t act confident (Y/n), she’s told me the same thing about you,” He laughs, “I don’t think we’re very good at hiding things.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about Guzmán,” You try to keep your composure.

“Well, we’ve got my sister’s blessing, and you’re just as bad at lying as I am,” He points out, “What would you say if I asked you on a date?”

“I’d say we’re not there yet,” You shake your head, “We started off not knowing each other, then became friends by association, then aquaintances, and now friends. Just friends for now.”

“Okay, friends then,” He smiles, “So what do I have to do to move up to the next stage?”

“You tell me, Guzmán.”

—Present Day—

“(Y/n), this came in the mail for you today,” Ander comments as he walks through into the kitchen.

You watch as he walks straight over to Omar and kisses him softly. Seeing the two of them back to normal was always a relief. No matter how much they argued, figuring it out just seemed to always be a part of the timeline. And you’d never once seen them at a stage that you didn’t think they’d get back from.

“Thank you,” You smile, taking the letter from him that was clearly addressed to you.

“Who’s it from?” Omar frowns, distracted as Ander takes some toast from his plate.

“I have no idea,” You mumble but you’re telling yourself the complete opposite, “I’ll be back in a minute.”

You take your coffee and walk outside to the patio chairs just outside the back doors. It’s a little too cold outside for this to be a good idea but you don’t mind, taking a seat on one of the chairs as you open the envelope. You knew exactly who it was from. That writing was unmistakable- and you knew what date today was. A year had now passed since Guzmán had sent you a letter like this. A year ago, it had been to tell how grateful he was for how much you’d been there for him recently. You’d got him through a lot and he’d not been able to audibly find the words to say how much it meant to him. So, in a style that clearly proved how different he was around you, he’d written you a letter. Your stomach overturns at the thought of what he’d be saying this time.

Dear (Y/n),

I hope you’re sat outside when you’re reading this, on that chair you had to replace because I broke it last summer. I hope you’ve got a coffee in your hand and you’re waiting until it cools down just a little past hot before you drink it. I hope you’re every part the girl that I gave a letter to this exact time last year.

I don’t really know how this will go or if this is a good idea but I’ll give it my best shot. Because you and I both know I’m not good at saying things out loud, I always fumble my words and get annoyed at myself and you have to stop me from swearing after every other word.

One full year ago, I sat and waited for your response after you were reading a letter just like this one. You’re the only person I’ve ever written a letter for and it still baffles me that you softened me that much to make me such a romantic :) Since then, I’ve done everything and nothing to completely change the way you see me. I did everything wrong and nothing in the way I once did. So, I want to take you back to when I first realised I loved you. I’ve thought about this a lot because there are far too many times I could say are when I realised I loved you. In fact, you probably gave me a reason every day, even if I stopped noticing. But this one stood out more than the rest. Because it was the reason I walked to your house and told your brother that I’d do everything I could to prove to him that I was good enough for you.

You were laying in our old garden by the pool and Marina was beside you. You had this black swimsuit on and a pair of sunglasses that kept falling off your head or getting tangled in your hair. My sister asked you if you knew what it would feel like to be in love. And you’d told her the most simple, obvious analogy that I’d never heard before. You seemed so sure of yourself. You told her this - that everybody ran their own path through life, like trunks of a tree with different branches. You said that wouldn’t change when you loved someone, but it instead was the feeling of finding someone who you wanted to run that path alongside. Whose branches connected with yours and who celebrated the parts of your life that were separate. It sounded so weird to hear from someone I was certain had never felt that way about anyone. But even weirder to realise that I wanted to be the person you spoke that way about. I left the house and told Ander that exact same thing, he laughed at me and said that I wasn’t the one he needed to convince. And I spent the next days, weeks after that trying to convince you instead.

That’s when I realised I wanted to love you, darling. I realised I wanted to be the lucky one who was loved by you. That never stopped. Not now, not ever. I just got lost when I was trying to keep up with other people’s paths. I lost sight of the fact that I’d had someone running alongside me that whole time that somehow managed to keep up with the pace and fall back when I struggled. Who picked me up when something knocked me back and who pulled me back when I got ahead of myself. I got so used to having that presence that I stopped putting in the effort. When, if I’d have done things right, I should’ve been spending every day still trying to convince you to love me.

You never stopped being too good for me. I just became blind to it. I should’ve treated every single day with you like another day where I was trying to prove myself to you. To convince you that I was worthy of everything you offered to the world. I’d do it all again if I could. I’d tell you every single time you did something that made my heart do that boyish flutter I never grew out of. I’d remind you of everything you wore that made me feel a way I’d never be able to describe. I’d tell you every one of the quotes you’ve said that I still have engraved into me. Id be good enough for you.

I never stopped being in love with you.

And if you let me, I’ll spend every day of my life proving why you shouldn’t fall out of love with me. I’ll spend every day trying to show you exactly why I convinced you in the first place.

You once told me we were at that stage of being just friends. And I asked you about getting to that next stage. I think we’re past that now. We’re at a stage I never expected us to be at, I just need to know what I can do to get us past that. To where we should be I want us to be. So, what do I have to do to move up to that next stage?

Always yours, Guzmán.

“Who’s it from?” Ander is stood at the doorway with Omar when he sees you fold the paper to finish the letter.

You glance at both of them with tear stained cheeks.

“Shit, she’s crying!” Omar exclaims, having never seen you cry... ever.

You laugh a little and wipe your face, “Fuck...”

“(Y/n), you need to find him,” Ander confirms and it means a lot more to come from him - the brother who’d always reminded you to never give boys a second chance when they weren’t worth it.

“You think?” You stand up from your chair, taking in a shaky breath.

“Are you kidding me?! This boy just wrote you a fucking letter to confess his love for you!” Omar raises his voice, grabbing your hand, “Go after him, honey!”

You wipe your face once again and nod, “Yeah, I need to, dont I?”

You were only really questioning yourself now. You couldn’t leave it any longer. The boys practically push you through the house as you grab your shoes and hold the letter in your trembling hands.

“How come you never wrote me a letter?” Omar questions Ander just as you’re about to leave.

“We live together!”

- - - - - -

You know the walk to Guzman’s house even through your blurred vision and shaking legs. It’s like you don’t even have to think enough about the path to get lost.

His Mum’s car is missing from the drive and you know he hates being home alone for too long in that house. What if he was out?

You’re just about to knock on the door when it opens from the inside and Guzmán is stood, fully dressed with shoes on and keys in his hand.

“Guzmán,” You say like you’re trying to convince yourself that he’s actually there, in front of you.

“(Y/n)... I was just coming to find you,” He explains, eyes falling and landing upon the paper gripped in your hand, “You read it?”

All you can manage is a small nod.

“Theres a part that’s missing,” He comments, taking in a deep breath, “That day on the phone, you asked me when I fell out of love with you. And I told you at the club that I just strayed too far from home, and that I needed to prove to you that you shouldn’t fall out of love with me. None of that’s true.”

Your heart sinks as you hold back another wave of flooding tears.

“Instead, it’s that you made me into somebody I thought was worthy of loving you - you subconsciously made me a better person because I wanted to be better for you. I didn’t fall out of love with you. I stopped loving myself, and I fell back into that person from three years ago that never deserved you. I became someone I hated and I punished myself by pushing away the best person I’d ever laid my eyes upon. I need to learn how to love myself again and I need to learn how to do that, but l want to be that boy that you made me. How do I become him again?”

You take in a deep breath, “You tell me, Guzmán.”

He lets out a breathy laugh and pulls you into him, arms wrapping so tightly around you as your final tears stain the plain grey of his T-shirt. Guzmán shifts you back so he can look into your eyes.

“You’re crying,” He notices, tears coming from the girl he’d never seen cry once - not for Marina, for your brother, for yourself. Never.

You chuckle, “It’s all your fault, Guzmán.”

He lifts the pads of his thumbs and brushes away the shadows from where the tears had previously been. His lips move close to you as he presses a kiss onto each of your cheeks, below your eyes. Before he moves back and kisses your lips for the first time in far too long. It’s soft and slower than any other kiss you remember from his impatient touch. It’s cautious, but certain. And you know he’s taking in every last second of it for every fraction of his time that it’s worth.

“I’ll never fall out of love with you (Y/n) (Y/l/n).”

——————

(((Let me know your thoughts please please please)))

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cherry3point14 · 5 years ago

Text

Cookies & Milk

Pairing: Dean x British!Reader Warnings: Established D/s, mind you don’t fall down the crack Word Count: 2,172. Summary: Dean buys you some cookies. You call them biscuits. Arguments ensue, lines are drawn and restraints are required. A/N: Have any of y’all met @winchesters-meaty-feast? She’s my pal and partner in crime. We have extensive conversations about many a subject but one day the most important topic arose. Biscuits. I’m a dunker, she is not. It almost tore us apart but luckily we’re stronger than that. Anyway, I drabbled this Dom/sub biscuit thing in our chat and the following CRACK is what snowballed from that. (This is meant to be dumb ok. Don’t come for me over this weirdness.)

Ao3 if you prefer.

You should close your laptop.

In the late afternoon—underground where the time of day doesn’t matter—even then the light it’s emitting is too blue. Sure, you could turn down the brightness but it’s too little too late. Your eyes are already starting to ache from the strain.

You're not even doing anything important. You started scrolling a few hours ago; a news story that might have been something, but turned out to be nothing. Less than nothing, it was mundane. Dull as dishwater, as your mum might say. You would have closed your laptop then if it hadn’t been for that link at the bottom of the page. To another article, this time about an unexpected cold snap. This leads you to look up weather trends in Kansas, which becomes reading the articles on weather.com. Who even knew weather.com had articles? Still, they do and they’re very informative. The problem is that their data all points to it being cold as balls soon (your term, not theirs). So, now you’re shopping, with a pair of snow boots and two winter coats in your basket. And you’re debating a new scarf to put you over the free shipping threshold.

It is really time to shut your laptop before you go ahead and checkout. Dean hates having to pick up your parcels in town. Always complains that you have a problem. Pretty hypocritical considering the number of breweries he keeps in business. Besides he doesn’t even have a reason to complain, Marta loves seeing him, she lights up like a Christmas tree for him. You walk into the post office and you get a ton of side-eye, plus a ten-minute wait, but Dean? Well, he’s always at the front of her line.

You’re so engrossed in shopping that you don’t immediately look up at the sound of the bunker door. It’ll be Dean, you know that much. He’ll have a couple of brown bags from his supply run and you don't want to insult him by insinuating that he needs help.

It’s for the greater good anyway, the longer you sit here the more chance there is of you buying him snow boots too. Maybe he'll let you buy him a hat too.

Once he’s finished stomping his way down the stairs he sets the paper bags down next to you. It just so happens that's the exact moment you finally look up at him. A grateful smile on your face and over the top fluttering eyelashes—to remind him how loveable you are.

He shakes his head at how obvious you are. “I didn’t buy them for just you.” His unnecessary emphasis is all the permission you need.

“Is that smoke?” You sniff the air, one arm sliding inside the nearest bag, “must be the fire in your pants.”

He tries. Bless his heart. He tries to hold out. You can see him chewing the inside of his mouth as your arm moves about inside the bag to liberally finger his goods. The haul from the supermarket anyway. But he cannot resist your lame jokes and it ends the same as always. He cracks. A twitch of his lip, shaking his head and then an eye roll even Sam would be proud of.

“Other bag, Sherlock.”

“Ah-ha!” You grin when you switch to the other bag. Instead of fresh fruits and vegetables, you’re treated to food of the more processed variety. Plastic bags filled with crisps, a pie carton and, oh he really does love you, biscuits.

You slink back down to your screen, tearing the package open with your teeth as you do. Revitalised by the imminent influx of sugar. Dean sighs but doesn’t say another word. He picks up the rest of the groceries and carries them away. Presumably to the kitchen by the distant sounds of him putting everything away.

It’s another five minutes when he returns with a glass of milk that he puts down next to you. With a determined thump of glass on wood, as if the sound is an entire explanation.

“Thanks, but you know I don’t…”

“Take the damn milk.”

Normally you’d be irritated for being cut off mid-sentence, but it’s his exasperated tone that catches your attention. You even deign to look at him again, ignoring the popup that’s offering an extra 15% off if you enter your email. “You ok?”

He scratches at the scruff on his jaw while he tries to internally talk himself down from the ledge. “Nothing, nothing. Drink the milk, please.”

You look from him to the glass and frown at the white liquid. There’s nothing wrong with it per se. It looks like a perfectly good glass of milk, the kind you might see on a ‘got milk’ ad from the nineties. It’s not that you hate milk, you just prefer your biscuits to have a little bite. Dean should know that by now but if he’s forgotten then you are more than happy to remind him. “You eat your biscuits how you want, let me eat mine how I want.”

In your attempt to be rational you have failed to notice the desperation in his, 'please'. And now you’ve managed to tick him off.

“Cookies,” he grinds out.

“What?”

“They’re cookies. Dammit, you’ve lived here long enough to call a cookie a cookie.”

The outburst is not Dean’s fault. He’s not exactly hoarding MAGA caps and asking you to go back to England. No, this outrage is the product of a very specific joke that you might have taken too far.

Ordinarily, you switched back and forth between American and British all the time. As easy as breathing. You’d lived in the good ol’ US of A for long enough that your brain simply picked out the first word it could reach. A lot of the time it ended up being American without much intention, people understood better.

And then a few weeks back you’d been on the way to a hunt, sprawled in the back seat. Despite the fact that you were still strategizing with Sam you were comfortable. You could have fallen asleep right there if Sam hadn't kept talking. The word had slipped out on a whim. You called Baby’s trunk a boot.

Dean—being an absolute drama queen—had slammed on the brakes and eloquently asked what the fuck you called his Baby. Apparently, it was the first time you’d said that particular British word.

If you hadn’t found his reaction utterly hilarious that would have been the end of it. Except you did find it funny. The way his face soured, that little crease in the middle of his brow, he was so offended by four little letters. It was beautiful.

Now it’s been a few weeks of very purposeful language choices. Asking to borrow his mobile to make a call, or to wear his hoodie. And you’ll admit the ‘pip pip cheerio’ as he left the bunker earlier had been excessive. That isn’t even a real thing people say.

You’ve been torturing the poor guy with British slang. And because this isn’t the first time you’ve taken a joke too far, you’d usually hold your hands up and apologise. You’re good at apologising. He likes when you have to apologise because you always make it worth his while.

The problem is, biscuit had been an honest-to-god slip of the tongue. It had been the most natural word for your brain to conjure and so his anger seems a tad unjustified. Utterly out of proportion.

“It’s a biscuit.” You repeat as you take a bite, noticing the way his left eye seems to twitch at the crunch.

“It’s a cookie. It says right there on the packet. It’s a fucking sandwich cookie.” He points at the ripped plastic on the table for emphasis.

You sigh with the kind of effort that forces all the air from your lungs. “This country can’t spell half the time, why should I trust the packet?”

“Because you’re eating from it.”

He’s got you on a technicality. And he knows it. He knows it by the telling pause before you speak and the flash of panic in your eyes.

“So?”

It’s not an argument that’s going to win world-class debates but you couldn’t go ahead and let him have the last word.

Dean's problem now is he thinks he’s got you on the ropes, so he goes and gets cocky. He puffs out his chest a little and bites back a smirk.

“So? So… cookies and milk is as American as apple pie-”

“Invented by the Dutch.”

“-whatever. It’s a thing. Which means you gotta sit down, shut up and drink your fucking milk.”

You always love it when he does that. Argues his way to a conclusion whether he’s right or not. It’s kind of ridiculously hot.

Or at least that’s how you justify putting your half-eaten biscuit down. Slowly rising from your chair and crawling onto his lap. You lean in, slow enough to tease him, letting your breath settle over his skin as you whisper in his ear. “I know a way we could settle this.”

“What’re you doing?” He manages between teeth that are grinding against each other. The muscles in his arms are tense where he’s pulling at the rope that holds him.

Any other night and you might calm him down at this point. Remind your good boy that he shouldn’t hurt himself. Or depending on the game you’d remind him who he belongs to, who he’s foolishly directing his anger towards. But there’s no soothing touches or harsh reminders bestowed upon Dean tonight. This game is different. This is a battle for dominance, unlike one you’ve played before.

For the first time, he wants to win as much as you do.

There’s no mutual satisfaction in the room because you’re both out for blood. Where blood equals being right about snack goods. And unfortunately for Dean, he didn’t figure it out before he let you tighten the ropes around his wrists.

“I thought that was obvious, baby. I wanted something sweet.”

His eyes flick between the glass of milk he’d seen you carry in and the cookies plated up beside it. Well, you’d call them biscuits but that’s not what this argument is about.

“Don’t you dare.” There’s a threat in his voice.

For a moment it surprises you and you’re quick to counter him, “I’ll do what I like.” Your tone is reminder enough for him to remember his place.

He retreats a little, gives an inch so that you can take a mile. A breath rattles through his chest doing little to calm his tightly wound body. At the very least, he switches anger for desperation. Dean knows you love it when he pleads, “please Princess. Please, I’m begging you. Dunk it.”

Your entire body glows a little when he calls you by your name. The change in his attitude only urges you onwards though, with a smirk turning up the corners of your mouth.

Your hand finds a treat, fingers picking it up with deliberate, delicate movements. His eyes are wide as he watches you hover the biscuit over the glass as if maybe you’ll appease him. The whimper he lets out when you bypass the drink is almost fulfilling enough that you’re no longer hungry. Almost.

The room takes on an eerie silence as you part your lips and take a bite. A loud, crunchy bite. Crumbs fall onto the table beneath you—probably in slow motion— and chewing only seems to increase the volume.

“Son of a bitch.” He mutters as you swallow, “you’re crazy.”

You hadn’t planned on it but you walk across the room then, half a biscuit in your hand and a satisfied smile on your face. He’s slumped in his chair a little. He’s defeated since he knows he won’t defeat the knots keeping him in place.

“Come on, try it for me.”

“Go to hell.”

It's your turn to roll your eyes, “don’t be so dramatic, you’ve been to hell. This can’t be that bad.”

As you reason with him, you slide into his lap again, which will be torture enough because he can’t touch you. Except you also hold the biscuit to his lips.

“Please. For me. Be my good boy.” You coo as if you're not toying with him.

His thighs twitch beneath you at the use of his nickname and, because he’s always your good boy, he opens his mouth.

5eva tags: @divadinag @darthdeziewok @fluentinfiction @witch-of-letters @supernatural-teamfreewillpage @magnitude101999 @alexwinchester23 Dean babes: @thewinchesterchronicles @akshi8278 @bloodydaydreamer

#dean x reader #supernatural fanfiction #spn x reader #dean winchester x reader #spn fanfiction #supernatural #spn #spn fanfic #supernatural fanfic #dean winchester #dean winchester x you #dean x you #dean x y/n #dean dean the soft lil bean #I missed all the 2020 bingos so this is the sort of shit you have to suffer with now #I bet you missed me now

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writingithink · 4 years ago

Text

Tangled Timelines Chapter 3 Rated: T Chapter Word Count: 5,010 Chapter Summary: The Doctor and Rose try to track down some ghosts. Notes: Hey look! It's an update!! Hopefully they'll be happening more regularly now. I'm semi doing NaNoWriMo, and by that I mean that I'm attempting to write 50,000 words this month spread across any project (including this one). I'm starting to find my groove with this fic, so *fingers crossed*

As always, many hugs and thanks for @hey-there-juliet , my lovely beta. && all mistakes are mine.

READ IT ON AO3 [copy/paste link]

https://archiveofourown.org/works/26686090/chapters/67268401

<-- Ch2

Ch 4 -->

As soon as he entered his ship, the Doctor collapsed onto the jumpseat and stared blankly at the time rotor for a few moments. And then he glared at it.

“I somehow manage to happen upon the exact coordinates for the beginning of an invasion, and for some reason you’ve put me smack dab in the middle of it?!”

The answering hum was … frustrated.

He furrowed his brows, frowning. It would be exceedingly bad, incredibly bad, astonishingly bad bad bad if something else was influencing the TARDIS. The Doctor sprang to his feet and immediately sonicked open the grating, taking a moment to place a temporary barrier around his panic before he could worry Rose.

Back at the flat, she was having tea with her mother. She’d only just managed to get Jackie to stop complaining about his apparent need to ‘make everything about aliens’, and they were now talking about the wedding. Apparently she’d found a baker who said they’d make up cake samples that all somehow incorporated bananas. Best news he’d heard (well, technically) all day, and he couldn’t properly appreciate the sentiment when he desperately needed to check his ship and parse out exactly what he was going to do about these ‘ghosts’.

First things first, he needed to make sure that the TARDIS was physically fine. That she was healthy. And actually, it wasn’t so bad. There were some minor repairs he should take care of before they next left Earth, but nothing he couldn’t leave until after they’d saved the planet. The Doctor pulled himself out from under the console and bounced over to the navigational matrix, pulling a screen with him as he went.

His mouth dropped as he looked at the recording of their last flight path. A time track seemed to just- just pop into existence, pushing them months away. His ship had immediately landed due to the unexpected error. It literally looked like a glitch in the Vortex - but there were no such thing as glitches in the Time Vortex. A whole dimension doesn’t glitch - not without some outside force acting on it.

And any outside force meddling with time was even more dangerous than whatever these ‘ghosts’ were.

One bloody thing at a time, though.

The Doctor pushed himself away from the console and began pacing.

Ghosts ghosts ghosts ghosts ghosts.

Not really ghosts. Getting stronger from the psychic energy of the entire human race. Incredibly unpleasant when one walks through you - really do feel dead. Worse than dead. Likely nothing good, and all over the world.

But they appear in shifts. There’s shifts.

So someone had to be in charge of that. Probably multiple someones. But still, there would be a central location connected to them, giving them whatever help they need to press themselves onto the Earth from wherever they really are. To do that, all around the world, they would have to have an incredibly strong signal.

An incredibly strong, traceable signal.

“Alright then!”

Headfirst into danger was just what it was going to have to be.

The Doctor sonicked open a different panel and began rummaging around for the equipment he’d need. It wasn’t long before he heard the TARDIS' door open.

“According to the paper,” his wife announced, “they’ve elected a ghost as MP for Leeds. Now tell me about this plan you’re tryin’ so hard to keep secret.”

He popped out of the grating with a backpack full of equipment.

“Who you gonna call?” he joked.

“Ghostbusters!” Rose laughed, more amused by the voice he was using than his shockingly similar looking technology.

“I ain’t afraid of no ghosts,” the Doctor finished with a little jig before dashing out of the TARDIS.

“My mum’s on her way down,” she informed him as he looked around the playground for the best area to set up the cones. Actually, should do nicely right where they were.

“Oh?” He turned on his heel and went back into their ship, pleased that she’d seen fit to set out the rest of the equipment they would need. “Let’s get these outside.”

“Doctor,” his bondmate huffed, even as she took a cone. I don’t think we should tell her yet. About the lifespan thing. Not until after we’ve gotten rid of the ghosts. Like, way after. Next trip back.

That’s fine, he agreed as he sat down his roll of wire and cone and began plugging everything in.

“We’ll still have to stay for awhile, though. Because we said we would.”

The Doctor paused what he was doing, dramatically raising his eyes skyward. It was quite a nice day, really. You’d think, with London having nice weather for once, that he’d be able to enjoy it. He opened his mouth, planning to vocalize his many complaints, but as soon as he turned back towards Rose, he saw Jackie walking up.

After the ghosts, yes. Sometime during this trip, though, please .

He wasn’t ashamed to beg. Well … a little ashamed.

“Why’d you park all the way over here?” Jackie asked as he began plugging the wires into the cone Rose had placed.

“Got tired of the alley. Bit dingy,” he quipped. It was a lie, but better than telling his mother-in-law that not only had the flight gone wrong time-wise, but also slightly by location.

His wife shot him a worried look as she caught the thought.

Later, he promised, rushing back into the TARDIS for the final cone. He would worry about all of that later - they had important things to do.

“When’s the next shift?” he asked as he sat the cone down.

“Quarter to,” Jackie answered, “but don’t go causing trouble. What’s that lot do?”

“Triangulates their point of origin.”

“I don’t suppose it’s the Gelth?” Rose asked, visions of their spectral forms playing across their bond for a moment.

“Nah,” the Doctor responded, and she quickly shrugged off the idea. “They were just coming through one little rift. This lot are transposing themselves over the whole planet. Like tracing paper.”

With the final cone plugged in, he ran over to make sure they were all in the proper position.

“You’re always doing this,” Jackie complained. “Reducing it to science. Why can’t it be real? Just think of it, though. All the people we’ve lost. Our families coming back home. Don’t you think it’s beautiful?”

He paused to give his mother-in-law an honest answer.

“I think it’s horrific.”

And then the Doctor bounced back into motion, unrolling the cable that would connect the triangulation devices to the TARDIS console. They were on a time crunch, after all. “Rose, give us a hand, love.”

His bondmate sighed before following him into the ship.

She’s so upset.

The Doctor remained silent, aware that the thought wasn’t really meant for him and even more aware that there wasn’t anything he could say that would help. He plugged in the cable and turned to Rose, aware that her mother had followed them inside. This is how they could help.

“As soon as the cones activate,” he explained quickly, pointing to the monitor, “if that line goes red, press that button there. If it doesn’t stop,” he continued, reaching into his jacket to pull out the sonic screwdriver, “setting 15-B. Hold it against the port, eight seconds and stop.”

“15-B, eight seconds,” she confirmed.

“If it goes into the blue, activate the deep scan on the left.”

“Uhm … oh!” His wife leaned over the console, which he found much more provocative than the situation really called for. “This button there?”

“Hmm close.”

And he’d really, sincerely intended to send her a mental image of the correct button, but some wires must have gotten crossed there. Instead what he sent was a memory of their return to the TARDIS right after the Rhibelini festival. Eh. Oops?

“That one?” Rose smirked, pointing to another button that was definitely not close, while sending some very, uhm, creative suggestions that, unfortunately, weren’t actually feasible.

“Eehh, now you’ve just killed us,” the Doctor told her with a theatrical grimace.

With the button, or- ?

They both laughed, but only for a moment.

“Er, that one.” She confidently pointed to the correct button, telepathically informing him that she knew the whole time.

“Yeah!” he smiled before turning to Jackie. “Now, what’ve we got? Two minutes to go?”

Jackie looked down at her watch, and the Doctor was glad that she didn’t realize that he was just trying to make her feel needed. That he was a Time Lord and didn’t need her help to check the time. Because his wife had to be right - there’s no way her mum actually enjoys the act of doing laundry. She enjoys being a mum.

You like her, Rose teased over the bond.

Shush.

He gave her a peck on the cheek before exiting the ship to do the final prep work on the triangulation cones. It was go time. The Doctor raced around, calibrating each one.

“What’s the line doing?” he shouted through the door.

“It’s alright,” came his wife’s answering shout, though she really didn’t need to with his superior hearing. She could whisper and he’d be able to hear her from this short of a distance. “It’s holding!”

“You even look like him,” Jackie said to Rose, and he could hear her just fine. Not that he understood what that was supposed to mean.

“How do you mean? I suppose I do, yeah,” his wife responded, sounding pleased, though he still didn’t know what it meant. Rose didn’t look at all like him. What a strange thing to say. He tried to refocus on the triangulation equipment.

“You’ve changed so much,” Jackie sighed. “All grown up and married to an alien, living in a spaceship.”

The Doctor almost said something to Rose about her mother acknowledging that they were, in fact, already married, but then caught himself. If she didn’t already know that he was eavesdropping, no need to make it obvious. Not that it would matter either way. He wasn’t going to stuff cotton in his ears just because the humans in his life couldn’t be bothered to remember all of his biological differences.

“For the better,” his wife replied with confidence. “We have an amazing life, and we’re in love.”

“I suppose. It’s just barmy. Seeing you two like this in this box of his. Makes it hard to pretend everything’s even a little normal.”

He wondered what exactly Jackie imagined their life was like when they weren’t around. Things had actually gotten shockingly domestic lately, though it would still probably be too alien for his mother-in-law.

“Mum, I used to work in a shop.”

“I’ve worked in shops. What’s wrong with that?”

“No, I didn’t mean that,” Rose sighed.

Once again the Doctor made himself refocus on the task at hand, all the while hoping that they weren’t about to have a row.

“I know what you meant. What happens when I’m gone?”

“Don’t talk like that,” Rose ordered, distress flooding their connection, making it nearly impossible for him to pay attention to the cones.

How exactly was he supposed to save the Earth with these working conditions?

There was a smug voice in his head, with a distinct Northern accent, very pleased to point out how they were right about avoiding domestics.

“No, but really. When I’m dead and buried, you won’t have any reason to come back home. What happens then?” Jackie asked her.

“I don’t know,” Rose mumbled, as she tried and failed to imagine their future life without her mother in it.

The Doctor frowned, realizing that he couldn’t quite picture it either.

“Do you think you’ll ever settle down?” her mother continued.

Their connection was now awash with all sorts of negative emotions, and he could tell that his bondmate was near tears, which was completely unacceptable. He turned away from the cones, ready to march back on board before stopping himself.

“The Doctor never will, so I can’t,” Rose told her. “Wouldn’t want to. We’ll just keep traveling.”

“And you’ll keep on changing. And in forty years time, fifty, there’ll be this woman, this strange woman, walking through the marketplace on some planet a billion miles from Earth. But she’s not Rose Tyler. Not anymore. She’s not even human.”

Their bond somehow managed to pulse mauve.

It’s going to be okay, love, he tried to comfort her, fighting to send soothing, positive thoughts over their connection just as he finished up the calibrations. A distraction, that’s what she needed! It was certainly what he needed.

“Here we go!” he shouted.

“The scanner’s working!” Rose called out. “It says Delta-One-Six!”

“Come on then, you beauty!” the Doctor laughed, firmly resolved on drowning out all of the pain present in their shared mental space with adrenaline fueled glee. After all, he had always wanted to use these cones - they were state of the art!

He watched with wide eyes as the cones connected, immediately trapping one of the so-called ‘ghosts’ within their quasi-electric field. And then he reached into his pocket, carefully blocking their bond as he pulled out and put on a pair of 3D glasses - this was the part of his speculations that he really would rather not worry his bondmate with. At least, not yet. Not until he absolutely had to.

The ghost … thing he’d just trapped was absolutely riddled with Void particles. Completely covered, blurry head to blurry toe. Blimey.

The Doctor knelt down, adjusting the controls in order to get a more accurate read. If he was lucky, he would be able to figure out which parallel world these creatures were trying to come from. Likely a parallel Earth, but which one?

It began writhing, though nothing about the triangulation device should cause a living thing pain.

“Don’t like that much, do you?” he couldn’t help commenting. “Who are you? Where are you coming from? Woah!” He jumped back as the ‘ghost’ attempted to break out of the containment field. “That’s more like it! Not so friendly now, are you?”

He looked on as the creature faded away and the cones deactivated. While some more time would have been helpful, the Doctor had enough information to get started. After quickly picking up all of the cones, he ran back inside. Once he’d dumped them all out of the way, he raced up to the console, shrugging out of his coat and tossing it onto the railing.

“I said so!” he exclaimed. “Those ghosts have been forced into existence from one specific point, and I can track down the source. Allons-y!”

With that, he slammed the dematerialization lever, the coordinates having been inputted by the triangulation device. So handy! Finally got to use it.

The TARDIS shook violently.

Well, maybe he could make some improvements ... if he ever got the chance to use it again. The Doctor sprung to his feet and stabilized the flight.

Things seemed abnormally silent in the console room and over their bond. He was uncertain as to why, but still gave over to his natural inclination to fill the silence.

“I like that,” he told his wife as he moved around the console. “Allons-y. I should say allons-y more often. Allons-y. Watch out, Rose Tyler. Allons-y. And then, it would be really brilliant if I met someone called Alonso, because then I could say, ‘Allons-y Alonso’ every time.” He finally reached Rose and wrapped his arms around her before pausing. “You’re staring at me.”

“My mum’s still on board,” she whispered, squeezing his arms.

The Doctor looked up to see Jackie Tyler sitting on one of the platforms.

It was terrifying.

“If we end up on Mars, I’m going to kill you.”

Absolutely, bone-chillingly terrifying.

Stop being a drama queen, his bondmate chastised.

Oh, the domestics of it all! Worse than living in a house! Traveling with his mother-in-law?!

You’ll be fine, it’s hardly traveling . We’re in the same city, in the same time, Rose reassured him, rolling her eyes before giving him a proper hug.

What was he supposed to do now, though?! Bring Jackie with them? Leave her in the TARDIS? It would likely be dangerous wherever they ended up, invasion and all. The alternative was having her stay in their home to snoop around and get up to who knows what. There was no winning!

“Welcome aboard, Jackie!” he said with a wave, his smile showing a bit too much teeth.

“Where exactly are we going, anyway?” her mother asked.

“Come down, mum. You can watch the landing on the view screen with us,” Rose encouraged, releasing him so that she could meet her halfway. “We’re gonna land at wherever they’re controlling the ghosts. Are you fine to stay on board? There’s a pool, you could have a nice swim. Or watch telly in the media room. We’ll be back before you know it.”

“I’m just supposed to hang out in this weird ship of his while you’re off trying to get yourselves killed?”

“We do stuff like this all the time,” the Doctor piped in, trying to reassure her. “Only this time you’re on the TARDIS instead of at home in your flat. Which, really, is much better, when you think about it. Best ship in the Universe.”

Jackie still didn’t look thrilled as they all gathered around the view screen. She looked even less thrilled as they watched the TARDIS land in a hanger before immediately being surrounded by armed gunmen.

“Oh, well, there goes the advantage of surprise,” he sighed. “Still, cuts to the chase.”

Now he was going to have to deal with soldiers. Really, every time he thought that the day couldn’t possibly get worse. The Doctor turned to his mother-in-law as he made his way around the console.

“Jackie, stay inside. Doors shut. They can’t get in.”

“I’m not staying here! Take me home!”

“It’s too late for that,” he told her. “Shouldn’t have come aboard if you didn’t fancy a trip.”

“I was kidnapped!”

He rolled his eyes, deciding not to dignify that with a response as he took Rose’s hand. She pulled him to a stop before they reached the door.

“Doctor, they’ve got guns.”

The Doctor mentally reminded his wife that they’d been surrounded by much, much worse. Daleks couldn’t help but come to mind. 21 st century Earth guns were really the least of his concerns at the moment. Jackie Tyler accidentally breaking his precious timeship was more of a worry than guns. Whatever these creatures had planned, definitely more of a worry than guns.

“And we haven’t,” he delightfully informed her. “Which makes us the better people, don’t you think? They can shoot us dead, but the moral high ground is ours.”

With that, he tugged her out of the TARDIS behind him and closed the door as casually as he could manage.

Honestly, with all of the emergency programs he had installed, why couldn’t he have made one to deal with this scenario? A program that would immediately take Jackie home and then bring the TARDIS right back - now that would be nifty.

They barely had a chance to look around before the soldiers surrounding them cocked their guns. He and Rose quickly raised their hands to prove they were unarmed.

Y’know what this reminds me of?, his wife casually asked across their connection.

What?

Utah, 2012.

The Doctor’s eyes swept the area as much as he could without moving his head. He could see her point.

Do you think they’d fire if I knocked on wood right now?, he asked her, just as a blonde woman in a suit rushed into the hanger.

“Oh! Oh, how marvelous!” she exclaimed, clapping.

I think she may’ve gone ‘round the bend, Rose laughed in his head as she fought back a confused smile.

The soldiers slowly began to lower their weapons as they joined in on the … clapping? Really, why were they clapping?

“Oh, very good. Superb. Happy day!”

Really, the Doctor felt inclined to agree with his bondmate on this one. Still, now that guns weren’t being pointed at them he was inclined to just go with it.

“Uhm, thanks. Nice to meet you,” he greeted. “I’m the Doctor, and this is my-”

Probably not the time to introduce me as your wife.

“- this is Rose.”

“Hello,” his wife waved with a wide grin that didn’t reach her eyes.

“Oh, I should say! Hurray!”

And there they went again with the clapping. Honestly, what the bloody hell was going on?

Think you’ve got more fans, Rose teased.

“You- you’ve heard of me, then?”

Really, where had his ship landed them?

“Well of course we have,” the overly enthusiastic woman replied. “And I have to say, if it wasn’t for you, none of us would be here! The Doctor and the TARDIS.”

Everyone started clapping yet again. He was starting to get used to it, actually. It was kind of nice.

“And his companion, of course,” the woman continued.

Okay, not as nice. Then again, Rose was the one who didn’t want him to say she was his wife. Which was probably the smart thing to do, mid-invasion, but still. Just … didn’t feel right. As it was, she had had to cover her mouth with her hands in order to keep herself from laughing - out loud. Their bond was awash with her amusement. The Doctor found himself fighting the urge himself as he tried to politely make them stop.

“And- and- and you are?” he asked as the noise died down.

“Oh, plenty of time for that,” she evaded. Huh.

I think she thinks she’s the boss of you, his bondmate informed him.

She also thinks that I’m the boss ofyou, the Doctor couldn’t help but point out.

Bless.

“Aaaaaaanyway lead on, allons-y. Will there be nibbles?”

He fought the urge to take Rose’s hand as they followed the woman away from the TARDIS, surrounded by armed guards, stuffing his fists into his pockets. A moment later she tugged on his sleeve. The Doctor glanced over, taking out his hand when she rolled her eyes. Their fingers slotted together, perfect fit, as always.

We’ve been holding hands since the moment we met, she mentally chastised. Memories played across their bond.

She certainly wasn’t wrong.

Sorry, he told her, squeezing her hand. Not sure how to pretend to not be married, I guess.

Out of the corner of his eye he could see Rose smirk.

Well, I took off my ring. Think all we’ve got to do now is not say it outright.

Before he could properly respond, something on the tip of his tongue (or whatever the telepathic equivalent of that idiom might be) about how he could do a much better job than that, the mystery woman started talking.

“It was only a matter of time until you found us, and at last you’ve made it,” she said. “I’d like to welcome you, Doctor. Welcome to Torchwood.”

With that, she flung open the doors and they entered a massive warehouse. A massive warehouse that was full of alien technology. And since this definitely wasn’t UNIT, this was very, very not good.

Blimey , he told his wife, you’re right. This really is frighteningly similar to that bunker in Utah.

Gonna nip over to that crate and knock on wood?, Rose asked, only partially teasing.

He really was considering it, actually, but … (he peeked behind him at the armed soldiers following uncomfortably close) better not. Instead he focused on the spacecraft in front of them.

“That’s a Jathar Sunglider,” he realized.

“Came down to Earth off the Shetland Islands ten years ago,” the woman explained.

“What, did it crash?”

“No, we shot it down,” she stated. “It violated our airspace. Then we stripped it bare.”

Oh, this was really not good. The Doctor tried to sense the timelines, but they were all still so jumbled and wrong that he couldn’t make out the consequences of it, this technology that Earth really shouldn’t have right now. Not yet.

“The weapon that destroyed the Sycorax on Christmas day?” the woman continued with pride, “That was us. Now, if you’d like to come with me.”

That’s what Harriet said, Rose realized, replaying the memory over the bond, Torchwood. I didn’t even think about it, though.

No, me either, he agreed as they were led further into the warehouse. Why hadn’t he noticed anything off before? He should have felt it. On Christmas, maybe not - he’d just regenerated. But apparently this organization has been active for at least a decade, if not longer.

“The Torchwood Institute has a motto - ‘If it’s alien, it’s ours’,” their ‘captor’ slash ‘tour guide’ explained. “Anything that comes from the sky, we strip it down and we use it for the good of the British Empire.”

“Excuse me, the what?” Rose interrupted.

“The British Empire,” the woman repeated, turning around and looking his bondmate up and down, sizing her up.

“There hasn’t been a British Empire in ages,” Rose informed her, and she wasn’t wrong.

“We’ll see,” their hostess replied, a little too condescending for his liking. “Ah, excuse me,” she continued as a soldier handed her a particle gun?! “Now if you wouldn’t mind. Do you recognize this, Doctor?”

“That’s a particle gun.”

Now that he was here, now that this had his full attention, the Doctor could feel the strain on the timelines. This whole building was a threat to the entire causal nexus. His wife held his hand tighter when he showed her just a smidge of it over their connection.

“Good, isn’t it?” the woman smiled, unaware of the impending disaster that he wasn’t yet sure how to fix. “Took us eight years to get it to work.”

“It’s the 21st century,” he calmly tried to explain. “You can’t have particle guns.”

“We must defend our border against the alien,” she replied, as if that somehow gave them a free pass.

The Doctor didn’t know what to say to that, which apparently was fine, as their guide wasn’t really paying attention anyway as she handed back the gun.

“Thank you, Sebastian, isn’t it?”

I think it’s best if we just, you know, let her talk, he told Rose, studiously not looking directly at her - and really, there was a lot to take in, the warehouse was packed with advanced tech. Much too advanced.

“Yes, ma’am.”

Think she’ll give us an evil monologue?

Well, I don’t think she’s evil, he admitted. I think she’s … some sort of, I don’t know, business woman? I think she truly believes that what they’re doing here is good . Which makes them even more dangerous.

It would also make stopping them even more difficult.

“Thank you, Sebastian.”

He refocused as she turned back to them.

“I think it’s very important to know everyone by name,” she said. “Torchwood is a very modern organization. People skills. That’s what it’s all about these days. I’m a people person.”

Well that’s … nice?, Rose commented across the bond as she gave the woman a very forced grin.

“Have you got anyone called Alonso?” he couldn’t help but ask.

“No, I don’t think so. Is that important?”

Eh, oh well. It was kind of nice, though, having her asking a question for once.

“No, I suppose not,” the Doctor replied, just as he noticed a crate of Magnaclamps. He’d always wanted some, hadn’t gotten around to it, though. “What was your name?”

“Yvonne,” she told them (finally). “Yvonne Hartman.”

He let go of his wife’s hand, giving into the urge to inspect a clamp.

“Ah, yes,” Yvonne said with a smile. “Now, we’re very fond of these. The Magnaclamp. Found in a spaceship buried at the base of Mount Snowdon. Attach this to an object and it cancels the mass,” she explained, as if he didn’t already know. “I could use it to lift two tonnes of weight with a single hand. That’s an imperial ton, by the way. Torchwood refuses to go metric.”

Of course they do, Rose scoffed over the bond. British Empire, I mean really.

“Well, that’s handy,” is what she said aloud as he tossed the clamp back into the crate, wandering away to try to get a better idea of all of the other alien technology they’d managed to scavenge, commandeer or steal. His wife wandered in the opposite direction, giving him a second set of eyes even if she didn’t know what everything was. It really was a devastating amount, and the Doctor had to assume that this wasn’t all of it.

Really, it was about time they got back on track.

“So, what about the ghosts?” he asked.

“Ah, yes, the ghosts. They’re, er, what you might call a side effect,” Yvonne admitted.

“Of what?”

“All in good time, Doctor. There is an itinerary, trust me.”

Ugh, of all the things to add to this no-good-very-bad-day, he was stuck on a tour. With an itinerary.

It was his personal hell, really.

And to make it even worse, there went the TARDIS on the back of a lorry.

“An itinerary?” Rose scoffed. “And what are you lot doing with the TARDIS?!” My mum’s in there!

Oh, seriously?! He’d just managed to forget that they’d left Jackie Tyler unsupervised on the ship. Really, truly, worst day ever.

Seriously? Could you just grow up and get some perspective?, his wife snarled over their connection.

“If it’s alien, it’s ours,” Yvonne replied confidently.

“You’ll never get inside it,” he told her with just as much confidence, if not more.

“Hmm, et cetera.”

Once she turned away, they both glanced back at their ship to see Rose’s mum peek out through the doors - which he distinctly remembered telling her to keep shut.

Really, why did no one ever listen? He didn’t understand it.

With a sigh, and all of his unflattering thoughts about his mother-in-law safely behind a barrier, the Doctor turned away to continue their ‘tour’. At least the ghosts were on the itinerary. So this day had to turn ‘round at some point … right?

#ten x rose #tenrose #time petals #ficandchips #dw fanfiction #fandom: doctor who #pairing: rose x doctor #fic: tangled timelines #my fic

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mellohyi · 3 years ago

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wooowowowoo i miss summer camp so much

like this is my second year without going and as much as it sucked i loved it

there is a large rant about the place and like every single living detail i remember about it under the cut (is that the right phrase to use for this idk)

like the big field with the train tracks next to it and the beehives on one edge. i miss throwing a frisbee for my few friends there and laughing when i would get it stuck in a tree or they would throw it and it would go so far away. and i miss jumping on the trampoline and getting so pissed off (jokingly) at the dudes spending like 10 decades on it and because i was the only british person there they would be somewhat scared of me? so i would literally stare at them somewhat angrily and with my shitty latvian accent complain about how long they are taking and they would get off LMAO it only worked on the dudes younger than me but it worked... and the basketball on the small court !!! :D im not good at like,, throwing ball type games tbh? but like this court was magical because like 9/10 i would actually get it in and score a point and i loved how,, rapid (?) the games were like if you failed to get it in at a certain point you would be out and you had to get it in to stay in the game !!

and i remember the lake!!! it had a lot of those thingies.. oysters? idk i googled it and thats what they looked like. i can still remember the feeling of them and they were sharp LMAO and there was a zipline thing you could go on and it would take you to the middle of the lake and you could jump into it from there. and there was a game we played where we would be in two teams and then we would send a person down the zipline and if they fell in we would all have to do i think 10? pushups and it was fun cheering on people from the small platforms next to the zipline !! and we used to build a sorta dodgy looking sauna using some planks of wood and a big blue tarp that was held down by some rocks and we would collect sticks to make a fire with and then we would go sit in it and just talk and chill in the sauna. not everyone wanted to go, understandably considering iirc i put it off the first year i went but then tried it the next and loved it, so there was enough room for all of us to comfortable sit and even lie down on the log benches !! and we even had like,, bay leaf sticks with the leaves on it and stuff and we would dunk them into a bucket of water and then gently hit someone who was lying down as a like,,, relaxation thing? and it was so nice and it smelt SO GOOD it smelt like wood and grass and nature and it was sweet in a savoury way and i miss the smell so much just thinking about it. like you could literally smell the bay leaves because of the water evaporating after you take it out the bucket. and the hot air was so much harder to breathe when you stood up and it felt thicker and the air lower to the ground was cool so when you found it hard to breathe you would basically stick your head onto the grass to get a bit of cool and it felt so good !! and we would take breaks to drink water and pour cold water on ourselves or we would go into the lake though the last time i went a lot of the lake had dried up D: but its okay because i still have good memories with the lake when it wasnt like that. once during the sauna we went in the lake after and the sky was so clear like i could see all the stars and i could see the big dipper and it was just so beautiful. i even used the zipline to get into the lake that time as well and it was just so magical. i was kinda like,, sleepy (?) so i kinda was just not fully there so it was like so much cooler because i didnt feel real during it and it was just amazing.

omg and the activities we would do. we went on a hike in a forest and it was SO COOL like we would have to go climb up the steep hill that separated the field area and the train tracks and we would literally go onto the train tracks and at the time there wasnt any trains so we got to literally touch the tracks and we would go into the forest and IT WAS SO COOL like the light came in at a perfect angle and it was so pretty and we would pick blueberries and aaaaaaaa it was so amazing !! and we would split up and walk to an area to play some games using the trees and it was amazing. and also we would just do sports games using the field but also we went BIKING!!!! they had so many bikes for the people who didnt bring their own and we would go on the bikes and cycle to some sand dunes literally like 5 minutes away from the place and climb up them and jump and stuff and we carved tic tac toe grids into the stable parts and played and it was so fun AND I LITERALLY SAW A LIZARD CLIMB UP ONE OF THE EDGES INTO THE GRASS LMAO and we also cycled to a lake

this one to be exact!! and we would jump off from the small pier thing and swim around back to the edge and it had sand and a slide and it was generally really fun cycling to and from there. i did cause multiple crashes with the bikes while cycling there LMAO mainly because my brain just tends to blow things out of proportion for no reason and like LMAO someone would start coming a bit closer to me and i would panic and stop and then everyone behind me would then have to immediately stop and they would crash into me.. like once i got my cousin to come with me and someone looked like they were gonna go behind my cousin who was in front of me and i panicked because i didnt want to be separated from her so i just stopped because i was panicking too much and everyone behind me crashed into me LMAO and they were all like 'bruuuuh' but anyways it was really fun cycling there because i went past the place my aunt on my mums side got married + the place my uncle on my dads side got married (no they did not marry each other it was separate weddings) !! a few times i didnt go cycling because i just didnt feel good and didnt want to go but it was okay in the end because i was all alone in the cabin and i would just sleep and draw while waiting for them to come back and they would flood in cycling down the small hill that leads to the field and has the bike area and i would just see them from the porch of the cabin and it was cool :D

mMmMmmmmmMMM and the food area !! we would usually sit inside the pizzeria (because the place was also a pizzeria more on that later) and it was fun because we had breakfast, lunch, dinner + a night snack thing (its called naksniņas) and like even though im usually the pickest eater at the camp and they had to make exceptions for me because we werent allowed dessert at lunch unless we ate all our food like i still got to eat a lot lol like there was usually something i could eat even if i couldnt eat all of it and the juice was so nice and ngl i kinda liked being on the like,,, duty of having to set up before the meals + clean up after because getting all the stuff and setting it up was just so peaceful and calm and i loved it and mmmmsmsmsmsmsm it was so cool and THE NIGHT SNACK THING WAS LITERALLY THE BEST it was practically dessert for dinner but right before bed + we would do an activity after dinner before it !! i talked to my dad and figured out the spelling of the word because im not that good at latvian atm and mmmm . also like we would have tea and it was so good !! we would also have a small snack like a biscuit or cereal bar and it was so nice good way to end the day :D

i also lost an entire waterbottle there dont ask how

the cabins were nice because i usually end up on the second floor level thing of it and theres a small window on it !! and a cool ladder to get up to it though its a pain when camp first starts + when it finishes because you have to pack everything up while trying to not hit your head on any of the beams or the slant of the cabin roof and you have to haul everything up and down... other than that its so fun because theres small holes (like,,, really small. cant fit a pen down it) and when the people in the two rooms below that cabin spot are being pisstaking you can pour water down it and they shut up LMAO its really funny because they see the water dripping and get more pissed off and then become less annoying and we used to slip them notes to tell them to shut up LMAO also listened into their convos to be annoying too

anyways to finish off with my favouritest things ever about it. last day we would make pizzas and your family would be there and you could make multiple pizzas ! i usually made one for my parents / family and then one for myself and my sister because we r really picky and dont like cheese . and it was so fun and the pizzas were SO GOOD and i share the other pizza thats not mine with my family because i hate cheese and they are happy too. i also love the one evening where we cook dinner ourselves i think thats the sauna night as well but omg its so nice we have dough balls to wrap around a stick and asduidfohih its so nice omg i love them so much right because we take the stick and then toast them over a fire and when you do them right its a tiny bit doughy on the inside but a safe amount and its like,, slightly crispy in a good way on the outside so amazing and like you can put stuff in it like cheese and ketchup and stuff but i just eat mine plain and they are so good mmmamMMm and we also have watermelon iirc and it was so good overall like best evening of the camp :)

anyways i love camp and i miss it

#mellow random #nah because i miss it so much i #pleading eyes emoji #i love latvia

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