#which is why i hadn’t talked about it yet but i’d been following it all on twitter

[laurellavenderhaze]

Need your reaction to the new amber photos and news!!! Asap!!!

OBSESSED.

i mean look at her

a goddess.

also her return to instagram 🥺 this feels like a real turning point and it makes me so happy.

i’m really happy she’s going to continue with acting and not let anything stop her career.

and i loved that she received flowers from fans and saw signs supporting her.

also her relationship with her costars! Her costar Luca’s instagram posts about the event are all so sweet (@lucalvani on insta).

there’s so much to say. just watching all the videos of her at the festival made me so happy. i’m probably gonna make a proper post about it all very soon :)

[sapphicnae]

No exceptions?

Summary: Regina was mean to everyone, no exceptions. Yet when she was around you, it was a completely different story…

Pairing: Regina x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Just Regina being her mean self! But mostly fluff!

Words: 1.6k

Requested!

A/N: I really loved writing this one-shot, I’m a sucker for seeing Regina’s soft side for the reader and the reader only. I’m hoping to make a masterlist soon so you guys can see who I’ll write for. I’d love to write for any mean girls ships and I have a Leighton Murray fic in mind too which I’m dying to write. Requests are open!

Regina George had made fun of nearly everyone at school. No one was immune to her relentless teasing, that’s just the way it was at North Shore - so why was it that she had never seemed to target you before? You didn’t seem to mind it at all. In a way, it made you feel special.

The first incident of this type of treatment started when you had been walking rather quickly down a hallway to your next class. You had gotten so carried away studying in the library, that you hadn’t heard the bell ring. This led to you rushing to get to math class, not paying much attention to your surroundings. In the next step, you had felt yourself crash into someone in front of you. Judging from the way surrounding voices became hushed and the way you felt as though the halls had eyes all of a sudden, you could have guessed who it was without even looking at them. It was Regina George. In that moment, as you realised the identity of the girl who towered over you, you had braced yourself for an onslaught of insults. Yet they never came. Instead, upon meeting her gaze, you had seen her eyes soften, followed by her giving you an almost apologetic smile. But, before you could utter your own apology to her, she had already disappeared into the sea of students.

You had imagined that moment to have been a one-time thing. Maybe she was in a really good mood that day - anything to brush off her strange behaviour. But then came the second incident, where you had been heading into the cafeteria to grab some lunch and sit with your usual group of friends. As you had entered the cafeteria, you could already hear Regina’s voice loud enough, making her usual scathing comments about people as they walked past her table. Talking about their appearance, their clothes, or their hair - how trashy they looked. Once again, as you made your way past the table where the plastics were seated, you had mentally prepared yourself for whatever nasty comment would inevitably leave Regina’s mouth. Yet, when she had spotted your nervous gaze on her, all she did in return was smirk. You could’ve sworn she had given a subtle wink at you too, but with your racing thoughts, it was hard not to focus on simply making it past her as quickly as possible.

It was twice now, that you had escaped Regina’s infamous wrath. Which had left you wondering the reasons why - not that you were complaining.

It was actually nice not having to worry about being the target of Regina’s verbal attacks. So, within the next few days, you had grown the confidence to gift her warm smiles whenever you would catch her eye on you.

Then came the following week in the class that both you and Regina happened to share. As usual, you walked in and took a seat right in the corner, tucked away from everyone, ready to daydream your way through the hour. You had spotted Regina surrounded by Gretchen and Karen, chatting and giggling, while the teacher droned on about whatever chapter the class would be asked to read for next week’s quiz. You were finding it a little hard to focus on your own thoughts, as you kept feeling Regina’s gaze on you every so often. She was making it incredibly subtle – but not subtle enough.

What broke you out of your daydream was when the teacher seemed to have had enough of the chatter from the plastics, as she had suddenly ordered Regina and Gretchen to switch seats with other students. The worst part about this wasn’t that your daydreaming was interrupted, but that the student Regina was made to switch seats with, happened to be the student sitting next to you. You watched as she had rolled her eyes in the process of making her way over to the space next to you. She feigned indifference, as though sitting next to you wasn’t a big deal.

She had been waiting for a chance all week to finally get closer to you.

You can feel Regina’s presence next to you as you steal a glance at her before attempting to keep your focus towards the front. You seemed to be succeeding for a short while until, in your peripheral vision, you notice Regina drop her pencil. It rolls towards your desk. You have no time to wonder if it’s intentional or not before you feel her lean towards you, brushing her arm against yours as she reaches to pick it back up. This slight touch causes a flutter in your stomach, which you tried to hide by remaining stoic. Though as she rose back up, instead of returning back to her own space, she leaned in close, her lips next to your ear.

“What’re you doing after school, pretty girl?”

Her voice, low and confident, sent a small shiver down your spine. As she moved backwards you felt her eyes boring into you, in an intense yet nervous manner. Caught slightly off guard, you hesitated, wondering how you should respond…

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

This first interaction accelerated the relationship between you and Regina. You began to grow very close and she was making it much more obvious to people at school that you were hers. You would often go over to her house, sometimes accompanied by Gretchen and Karen, sometimes alone. Nothing romantic had happened between the two of you, yet some strange tension always lingered whenever you were around each other. You hadn’t bothered to question it; you were simply enjoying being placed on a pedestal in Regina’s eyes. Though, some of her passing comments would trigger that same flutter in your stomach as the first time she had spoken to you.

In the same class, a few weeks later, you had walked in to take your usual seat. You then watched as Regina struts in and makes her way towards the student who had decided to sit next to you. In the next moment, you saw them scamper away as Regina had ordered them to move.

“It’s nice to see that pretty little face of yours light up whenever I come around”

She whispered in sultry tone, as she settled into her seat. Until she had spoken those words, you hadn’t noticed the shy smile you had been sporting in response to her making the effort just to sit next to you. The remainder of the hour passed by uneventful.

The bell, which signified the lunch period, finally rang. This meant the majority of the class had packed up and left within a minute or so, leaving you completely alone with Regina. The tension that was always present between the two of you, seemed to fill the room once again. Once you had packed your things, you got out of your seat, ready to follow the rest of your classmates to the cafeteria – yet your plans were interrupted after you sensed Regina leave her seat behind you. You felt a hand catch yours which caused you to spin around to see why she was holding you back.

“Regina, I’m so hungry I’m about to ravage the next edible thing I see. What’s up?” You questioned her, with a sense of urgency knowing you were losing your chance to be first in the lunch line.

“Quit whining pretty girl, I just wanted you alone. I haven’t stopped thinking about you allll day.” The tone of her voice practically made you melt in front of her. It was hard to resist her after the treatment she had given you these past few weeks. From the touch of her hand to her soft voice, you had almost forgotten why you were in such a rush to leave the room. Though, now you were alone, you did have one question that had been playing on your mind from the day she started treating you differently. Until this moment you hadn’t realised how much the shared tension had been getting to you.

“Hmm All day?” You fell silent for a moment, hesitating, before continuing “and how do I know this isn’t all a joke, huh? Out of all the people in this school G, why me? What makes me so different from the others?”  You spoke in a curious tone, though remaining flirty. Judging from her break in eye contact, she hadn’t expected you to question her intentions here, of all places. After a moment, she thought of an idea on how to reassure you, whilst still maintaining the tone of the exchange. She stood tall in front of you, pulling you toward her, gripping either side of your waist now. She looked down at you slightly, moving from your eyes to your lips, then back your eyes again. With the corners of her mouth raised, she replied in a low voice,

“You know what I think of most people in this school? I don't. The only person I ever think about is you. I want to show you exactly what sets you apart from the rest…”  Without allowing you time to respond, she leaned her face down, attempting to meet your lips with her own…

“GUYS HURRY UP, IT’S FRIDAY WHICH MEANS THEY’RE DOING CHEESY FRIES.”

Karen’s voice echoed across the room, causing the two of you to jump apart, startled by the sudden interruption. Being lost in the shared moment, neither of you had heard her come rushing back into the classroom to find you. You felt your face grow red hot and saw Regina clearly sharing the same level of embarrassment. After exchanging an awkward glance, Regina gripped your hand once more and led you towards the door, a mix of excitement and frustration left hanging between you both.

[sp0o0kylights]

Steve and Gareth as Cousins, no longer a warm-up and now called Lifelines, part three! I’ll throw it up on A03 when I finish the fourth part. 

Prior parts can be read here: Part One / Part Two 

First things first, the most amazing @ sereinpetrichor managed to track down the OG Twitter thread this runaway train is based off of! 

It was this thread by @gatorthots, the Tumblr version of which can be read, here.  All blame for this idea firmly rests on their brilliant, plot bunny inducing shoulders. 

The other, follow up thread I mentioned was this one by Silas, whose tumblr name I do not know. 

As always and forever, shout out to the most amazing @chalkysgarbagefire​ who helps me edit/plot/pats my head while I’m crying in their inbox bc the words aren’t wording right. 

Warnings: Steve and Robin are canon (S3) drugged. I took a slightly (kinda sorta) more realistic approach. Vomit mention, canon threat of violence/guns (the Russian guards) Mention of pantsing/past bullying, Steve and Robin’s drugged asses not understanding personal space, Dustin’s canon...Im gonna go with assholishness? but like, I think its more than he’s a young kid and doesn't quite have the emotional growth/awareness yet in this kind of insane situation to know how to react to the whole address/torture bit (really who does)/its a defense mechanism--and Gareth sort of has a panic attack. 

Whatever the hell they had been drugged with, Steve and Robin went from 'giggly happy fun time' to 'vomiting into toilet bowls while loudly wishing for death’ awfully fast. 

Gareth was not an expert on drugs. He knew Eddie wasn't either (the guy never dealt anything stronger than your average psychedelic--had some agreement with his Uncle about only selling "the 70s basics") and repeated looks towards him proved Eddie was still trying to figure out what Steve and Robin were on. 

Answers hadn't exactly been forthcoming--Eddie's gently made attempts at ferreting out information had only caused more confusion.

Like why the two of them were so freaked out about a gate, or what had made Robin gasp, and then laugh so hard she cried when Steve had made a particularly rough noise then muttered; "Even that sounds better than Tammy Thompson." 

Either way, Gareth was mostly trying to figure out what the hell they were going to do, because sobering up in a busy, public mall wasn't exactly the best idea. 

"I regret," Robin tried to say, in-between gagging. "I regret--hrk--" 

"Me too." Steve moaned, head resting against the stall wall. Gareth, still caught up in panic, had been permanently regulated to door guard while Eddie alternated between sweet talking, rubbing backs and offering quietly whispered advice. 

"Let's go back in time and ignore the whole silver cat thing." Robin continued, slumping back down onto the floor. 

"Wouldn't have mattered." Steve muttered. "Dustin would have figured it out without us. Kid’s too damn smart." 

"So?" Robin grumbled, quietly thanking Eddie as he once again brushed her hair out of her face. 

"So he would have gone down there anyway, which means I'd be down there anyway." Steve concluded. "We shouldn't have gotten you involved though." 

He shakily pushed himself up, staggering to his feet and looking like bambi on ice while doing it. 

Eddie quickly came round to offer his help, hands spread as Steve groaned out a curse and clutched his head.  

The older took a step forward right as Steve lurched back, unbalanced and shaky. 

 "Oh shit." He said, eyes wide as he crashed backwards into Eddie, the latter catching him with a grunt. 

Despite the entire situation, Gareth found himself stifling a laugh as Eddie wrapped his noodle arms around Steve's chest, trying to hold the other up without falling himself. 

"Come on big boy, why don't we just siiiit back down." Eddie said, slightly breathless as he helped guide Steve back to the floor. "There we go…"

They did so outside the bathroom stall, Eddie sinking into a kneel as Steve sort of flopped down on top of him. 

Blinked a few times, like the drop had rattled what little sense he’d managed to recover in the last few minutes. 

A pleased noise came out of his cousin's throat, and holy shit was Gareth going to have blackmail for life, because rather than vacate Eddie's lap, Steve just turned around in it. 

Reached up with one finger outstretched and proved himself to be very much still under the influence as he touched Eddie's nose.

"Boop!" He said, and then giggled as Eddie dropped onto his ass in surprise. 

Gareth watched Robin as she took the whole thing in, from Steve's snickers to Eddie's shocked expression, eyes growing wide in excitement. 

He failed entirely to cover his own amusement when Eddie abruptly found himself with two sailors invading his personal space, each taking turns to boop his nose. 

“Uh.” He managed to get out, blinking rapidly and at a loss for words. “Ah.” 

Steve caught the metalhead’s awkward, red-faced expression and proceeded to drop his head to Eddie's shoulder, muffling his laughter against the man's vest. 

The helpless look his best friend sent him was one Gareth would remember for a long time. 

“O-kay.” Eddie said, frazzled, as Steve recovered far too quickly, turning to rest his cheek against a slim shoulder as he walked two fingers up Eddie’s battle vest and towards his hair. Likewise, Robin had discovered Eddie’s wallet chain, and had begun fiddling with it. 

One finger curled around a strand of brown hair and Eddie jerked his head, removing the tempting piece away from Steve’s hands. 

“I know you’re used to getting whatever you want, your highness.” He said, his own hand smacking against his waist before Robin figured out the other end of his chain ended in a handcuff, “But you of all people should know the hair is off limits.” 

Completely undeterred, Steve just gave him a loose, easy grin. “It’s so pretty though.” He complained, fluttering his eyelashes in a blatant attempt to try and turn on the ol’ Harrington charm.  “You can touch mine if you want.” 

Yeah, Gareth’s blackmail was getting better by the second. 

He might even get a new piece for his drum kit out of it, if this kept up. 

Free weed too, considering Eddie’s blush was now fire-engine red. 

“Man,” Eddie said in a clear bid to deflect the entire situation (and Steve’s fingers) away from his hair, “the last time someone called me pretty was right before I got pantsed—-is Tommy H hiding in one of the stalls again?” 

Steve picked his head up, confusion crashing down his face. 

“Did he do that?” He asked. 

Then, with growing horror; “Do you think I’d do that?” 

Eddie raised an eyebrow. “Isn’t that your whole little court’s M.O.?” 

Steve sucked in a breath, looking downright hurt. "I wouldn’t do that." He insisted, eyes wheeling from Eddie to Gareth and back, as though hoping Gareth would back him up. 

“I’m not--I’m not friends with Tommy anymore.” Steve continued, voice growing smaller as he spoke. “I’m not friends with anybody anymore, except maybe Dustin.” 

It sounded so defeated; trodden on and subdued that Gareth stepped forward automatically, to do--something. 

Provide the fucking comfort his cousin was oft denied and hug the guy. 

As always, it turned out to be the wrong move. 

"Oh thank god." A kid said, seconds after bulldozing through the main door and nearly bowling Gareth over in the process. "I found them!" He shouted over his shoulder as swept into the room. 

“Speak of the devil.” Steve said flatly, and even drugged, he managed to pull himself back together from distressed to stoic in mere seconds. 

The curly-haired kid--Dustin apparently--stormed right up to the pile of humans splayed on the floor, hands on his hips. "What the hell. We told you two to stay put!" 

Steve rolled his eyes as Robin booed him. 

“Have you forgotten what’s happening? Or how we’re kinda in a Red Dawn situation?” Dustin continued, looking like he’d just escaped from a summer camp. 

The kid even had a walkie talkie clutched in one hand, of all things. 

“We know.” Steve and Robin deadpanned at once, before looking at each other; Steve pointing a finger towards Robin and Robin pointing one back. 

This caused the kids to trade their own long suffering, “can you believe this shit” faces. 

"We need to go, and the only way we’re gonna get out of here unnoticed is if we blend in with the crowd." Dustin said impatiently.  “Now come on Steve, get up already, you've had worse.”

"I really don't think I have." Steve muttered, but moved to push himself to his feet anyway. 

Eddie beat him to it, and he and Gareth both hovered nearby in case Steve was still unsteady. 

Thankfully, the kids' presence seemed to sober up Robin and Steve both. 

Not actually sober, that wasn't how drugs worked, but whatever was left of the fun was sucked right out of the bathroom, replaced by two teenagers who were sort of functional on whatever they'd been drugged with. 

Stress and adrenaline, Gareth knew, could overcome a lot of things. Including Russian "truth serum" apparently. 

“Yeah well you're lucky you got found by these guys and not anyone else. " Dustin continued pointedly, before turning his attention towards Gareth and Eddie both. "Thanks for watching our friends, but we've got them from here." 

Gareth made a sort of unhinged, disbelieving noise. 

 “No, no you do not.” He declared, anxiety clawing at his gut at the mere thought of abandoning Steve to two children. 

"I don't think you heard him." The girl stepped forward, braids swinging about her face as she lifted her chin and nailed him with a cold glare. 

 As if this entire situation couldn’t possibly get weirder, Gareth suddenly realized she had a helmet in her hands and knee pads on.

 "He said we got this. So scram." She flicked her fingers out in a dismissive sort of "shoo" gesture.

"And leave my drugged cousin with his new girlfriend behind!?" Gareth challenged right back, emotions far too raw and frayed to care he was snarling at a little girl. "I don’t think so!”

"Cousin!?" Dustin bit out, sounding almost betrayed for some reason, at the same time Robin who'd been climbing to her feet with Eddie’s help, shouted; "I am not his girlfriend!" 

Steve, clearly unwilling to entertain whatever fight was brewing, clapped his hands together. 

"Yes cousin, Dustin. It's a type of family member." Steve said, after they all flinched and looked to him. He at least looked steadier on his feet this time, though Gareth still lingered nearby in case he took a wrong step. 

"I know what a cousin is, Steve!" Dustin shot back. 

“Then why are you acting like a lunatic?” Steve complained, and Gareth got to watch in real time as Steve pulled on the persona he often wore in high school down around him. “You said it yourself, we don’t have a lot of time. Worse, I don't know if anyone saw Gareth and Munson here with us.” 

He jerked a thumb sideways in Eddie’s direction, not that anyone couldn’t figure out who “Munson” was. 

“They stay with us until we’re out of this mall.” Steve finished, before he started towards the door.

One step he was Gareth’s cousin, drugged and vulnerable because of it. 

The next he stood taller, talked smoother, took charge with an aurora that said he expected everyone to listen to him. 

It was fake as hell, but it worked. 

“I know you’ve got a plan Dustin, so spill it.” He commanded as he walked.  

 Dustin, despite all the squawking, did just that. 

xXx 

Of all the things Gareth had expected to see upon escorting their little ragtag crew out of the bathroom, groups of intimidating, mean looking assholes wasn’t on the list. 

He found himself repeatedly nudging Eddie in the ribs, unable to take his eyes off what was clearly a checkpoint as he staggered to a halt. 

It was one thing to be told people were after Steve and the “Scoop’s Troop” As Robin had jokingly named them. 

It was another entirely to see the security guard directly in front of him look over a woman’s ID before apologizing to her, a sleazy grin matching his oily pony-tail as he waved her on. 

They really were looking for someone. 

Not someone, Gareth realized in dawning horror.

Them. 

Robin apparently, came to the same conclusion seconds later, because she snatched Steve and Dustin’s arms both, hauling them backwards. 

“Argue about Dustin’s address later, we need to find a different way out.” She hissed quietly as she tried to slowly reversed direction, movements still a bit sloppy. 

She might have even gotten away with it, had Sleazy Pony-Tail not turned and made eye contact with Gareth right after she spoke. 

His eyes swept over him, then to the rest of the group, freezing like a cat that had spotted its prey.

“Abort, abort!” Dustin sputtered, wheeling about on his heel. 

Erica, whose name Gareth had learned when she kicked him in the shin after he asked why an actual infant was running around with Steve and Robin, pointed towards the escalators before she beelined over to it, ducking into the center and riding it down like a slide. 

Something Eddied was downright delighted to copy. 

Gareth might have enjoyed it himself, had he not been looking over his shoulder to see not one, not two, but four security guards giving chase--and gaining. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuckikity fuck.” He heard Robin chant as she shot past, Steve planting himself at the top as he made sure everyone got down to the next level before sliding down himself. 

"Do not let them leave!" One of the guards yelled to the others, accent clear as a bell. 

"Holy shit that guy's actually Russian." Gareth found himself saying as he skidded across the floor and bolted after the others, Steve hot on his heels. 

He had kinda expected the Russian thing to be some sort of drug influenced inside joke and not an actual, honest-to-God Soviet. 

Which led to the question of why the fuck adult men in security uniforms had drugged random teenage retail workers.

Food workers.

Whatever the fuck one called a two people who scooped ice-cream in sailor costumes. 

"There's another group up ahead!" Eddie yelped, swerving sideways and nearly taking Erica out while doing it. 

Noise erupted ahead of them in the form of foreign shouting and loud, harshly barked commands to “Freeze!”  

‘Oh hell no.’ Gareth thought wildly, as he caught the form of the giant fricken gun the guard closest to him held. 

“Split up!” Dustin howled, and before anyone could comment about how bad an idea that was, Gareth found himself being yanked sideways. 

Steve swore loudly behind him as Robin, who’d crashed backwards, pulled him in the opposite direction and in a second their group broke in two. Gareth, Eddie and Dustin going one way, Steve, Robin and Erica another. 

"This isn’t happening." Gareth muttered, words made in a sort of pleading denial as he and Eddie turned the corner and immediately vaulted over the counter of an Orange Julius. “I smoked or drank or did something and this is a hallucination that is not. Actually. Happening.” 

Dustin at least, was smart enough to dive around the counter instead of over it, sliding towards them on his knees. 

Eddie quickly yanked him down to the floor in-between himself and Gareth once he was close enough to grab, one hand going over the hat to shove the kids head down. 

Annoying or not, he was at least several years younger than them, and Gareth could practically feel Eddie’s protective instinct kick in as he kept his hand on Dustin’s head. 

Together they tried to silence their breathing as the guards’ shouting continued on behind them. 

What was worse than their noises though, was when they unexpectedly and suddenly, went silent. 

Gareth’s breath felt far too loud as the stillness gained a suppressive weight, pressing down harshly against him and making it harder and harder to inhale. 

‘Panic attack.’ He realized, thoughts a touch detached. ‘You can’t afford to have a panic attack right now.’ 

Not when it had a high chance of getting them all killed. 

Slowly he moved his own free hand, placing it atop of Eddie’s, fingers gripping down in a way that was no doubt painful. 

Eddie glanced over to him and Gareth thanked every single time he’d smoked way too much weed, because his best friend immediately clocked what was wrong. 

Turned his hand over, so that Gareth could hold onto it atop Dustin’s hat. 

It didn’t help with the knowledge that his very much still drugged cousin and his equally drugged not-girlfriend were also hiding somewhere, or that there was significantly more Russians than there where terrified teenagers (and one--whatever age Erica was.)  

Flashlights cut shapes into the wall overheard, trailing along the Orange Julius menu. Quiet voices covered even quieter footsteps and Gareth had the sudden realization the probability of there being more than one guard carrying a huge gun, was very, very high. 

Worse?

This part of the mall wasn’t that big. There were only so many places to hide, and as such, only so many places to look. 

Death comes for everyone eventually, but Gareth hadn’t exactly expected it to show up before he hit twenty.

Not that they could do anything but wait. Pray to God and the universe and any other higher power he could think of to intervene, head pressed hard against the wood behind him as the small noises drew nearer.

What he hadn’t expected was for said prayers to get answered in the form of a of a fucking car being thrown into the Russian’s like bowling balls. 

“Run!” Dustin shouted, and Gareth wasted absolutely no time in doing just that. 

The only goal on his mind was to find Steve, get out, and then have a very long discussion about what the hell this all was, in that exact order. 

[wh0reforcoriolanussnow]

I Miss You, I’m Sorry || Tom Blyth x Singer!Reader

Summary: In which after your break up with Tom, you write a song about him and fans start to speculate that it is about the two of you.

Warning: swearing, kinda toxic Tom?

Wc: 1,123

A/n: someone asked if I would do a Sabrina Carpenter x Tom fic but I thought I’d do it with Gracie Abrams instead bc I absolutely love her <3 (I don’t mention Gracie, it’s still an x reader)

Tom Blyth x singer!reader au masterlist

Divider by @pommecita

Do you remember happy together? I do, don't you?

You squeal in excitement. You had just dropped your first ever album. “I’m so proud of you, my darling,” Tom hugs you tightly as he kisses your hair. “Thank you,” You says against his ear.

That night, the two of you stayed home, ordered pizza and drank wine in each other’s arms. Tom was so incredibly proud of you, he knew the hardships you faced that year when composing the songs and everything else that was going on in life.

You felt so blessed to have had Tom by your side during the particularly rough year. “I love you,” You whisper, your breathe fanning Tom’s neck as he pulls you closer to him. “I love you more,” He whispered back as you smiled.

Then all of a sudden, you're sick to your stomach, Is that still true?

Tom felt sick in the stomach knowing what he had done. It was a simple drunken mistake that he could never forgive himself. He cheated on you. He could never forget how he absolutely shattered your pure heart, all because of his drunken actions.

You said, "Forever, " in the end I fought it, Please be honest, are we better for it?

“I will forever love you, y/n.” He says against your lips before kissing you. You melt into the kiss, your arms wrapping around his neck as you bring him closer to you.

“You said you’d love me forever Tom- I-I don’t understand why’d you would do this-“ You furrow your eyebrows as tears had blurred up your vision. “I’m so sorry y/n, please-“ He tries to say as his hand touches your arm but you pull away from him, too hurt, too broken.

Thought you'd hate me, but instead you called and said, "I miss you", I caught it

You pick at your fingernails as your leg bounces up and down. You were sat at your desk, alone in the house. It had been a month since you broke up with Tom. And you couldn’t help but think about him every single day.

He was your everything. You couldn’t just get him out of your head that quickly. You flinch at the sound of your phone going off, buzzing on the table as you turn your phone over revealing his name on the caller id.

You stare at it for a few seconds, contemplating. “Hello?” Your voice was quiet as you hear a silence on the other end. “Tom? Are you there-“ “I miss you,” You hear him say, his voice just as shaky as yours; you bite your trembling lip, trying so hard to hold back the tears that were threatening to come out.

Good to each other, give it the summer, I knew you too

Little did you know that that summer was going to be your last one spent with Tom. He hadn’t told you that he had cheated on you yet, but you felt a shift.

You felt a change that you tried to ignore the best you could until you couldn’t handle it anymore.

But I only saw you once in December. I'm still confused.

You saw him once in December. That was all. You didn’t know why he was ignoring you and being so distant.

You said, "Forever, " and I almost bought it. I miss fightin' in your old apartment

“Forever.” What a fucking lie. “Why are you being so fucking distant towards me!” You yell, walking into his apartment as he slams the door behind him. “I’m not! I’ve been busy with my own fucking life y/n” He screams back as you both stare at each other.

“You could still try and make an effort Tom! I’m your girlfriend!” You storm up to him, finger pointing at him as he shoves your hand away from him, walking away without saying a word. “Don’t walk away from me-“ You shout as you follow him upstairs, “I don’t want to talk right now,” He seethes, slamming his bedroom door on your face.

You stand there as you scoff. You lift your hand up to knock but figured it would be no use, so, you walked back downstairs, grabbed your things and left.

Breakin' dishes when you're disappointed, I still love you, I promise

“Why-Why couldn’t you just tell me y/n,” He pulls at his hairs as you sat on the couch, knees to your chin as you look down on the ground. “I didn’t know how to,” You say quietly, not sure if he heard you.

“Y/n,” He sternly says as you look meet his angry eyes, “I said, I didn’t know how to tell you-“ smash. You flinch, gasping at the noise of mug smashing into little bits. Tears started flowing down your cheeks as you bury your head in your arms, sobbing.

Tom breathes heavily as he realises what he’s done. “Fuck,” He walks to you on the couch, his hand softly touching your hair as he listens to you sob. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry y/n,” He whispers he sits beside you, placing a gentle kiss on your arm.

“Please forgive me, darling,” He cooed. His anger got the better of him. You look at him, teary eyed. He wore an apologetic look on his face as you cry even harder, sitting on his lap as he hugs you tight, whispering sweet nothings into your ear.

Nothin' happened in the way I wanted. Every corner of this house is haunted

You stand in the living room of your house. Eyes puffy from crying, and a bag in hand with your things that you collected from Tom’s place. Looking around the place gave you flashbacks of you and Tom.

You got this house soon after you started dating Tom nearly 4 years ago now. There were so many memories made here and you couldn’t stop thinking about them.

And I know you said that we're not talkin', But I miss you, I'm sorry

You felt somewhat guilty for missing him. After all, he was the one who cheated on you. Tom told you it would be better to go our seperate ways and limit interactions with each other as much as possible.

It still hurt. Waking up and knowing your relationship with Tom ended. The one person you could confide to was no longer there for you. The one person who knew how to cheer you up after a rough day wasn’t by your side anymore.

The one person who would travel with you around the world for concerts, and if he couldn’t, he would make sure to face time you every day no matter how early or late it was for him.

[annwrites]

— pairing: benny cross x fem!reader

— type: one-shot (part of a collection)

— summary: you & benny meet at the club's bar & he doesn't relent until you let him give you a ride home.

— word count: 2,172

You focus on your hands in your lap, refusing to look up. Or around. Because you know that the moment you do, you’re going to meet a wandering pair of eyes that’ll get the wrong idea. Then, they’ll come over and start talking to you, maybe try to touch you and—

“You want to go for a ride with me?” Asks a low, deep voice to your right.

Your head jerks up, wide eyes taking in the young man now seated next to you. And you know he’s one of them without a second-thought.

He’s handsome, if not also possibly dangerous…

He has tousled brown hair with hints of blonde, facial hair which lines his jaw and high cheekbones—a smattering of it above his cupid’s bow—full lips, and he has, with all certainty, hooded bedroom eyes.

And they’re staring straight at you while his tanned, tattooed, muscled arms rest atop the back of the chair he straddles.

“No, thank you,” you reply politely.

“No?” He leans in closer, as if he didn’t hear you correctly the first time.

“No,” you reply firmly, but with a reassuring smile that says that you mean no harm in your rejection.

“How come?” He asks, resting an elbow on the back of the chair, cupping his cheek in his hand, as if out of curiosity.

“I don’t know you,” you say, glancing away, then back to him.

“Well, my name’s Benny. And if you go on a ride with me, you’ll get a chance to know me.”

“I’m okay, really,” you reply with a light laugh, which emanates from nerves.

“I didn’t ask if you were okay, I asked if you wanted to go on a ride with me.”

“Well, you know what they say about strangers and danger,” you say, smoothing your skirt with sweaty palms. “I don’t think getting in ones car is a good idea.”

“I don’t have a car, I have a bike,” he says, hanging his arms off the seat back.

“A bike?”

“Mhm. Wouldn’t be a stranger if you got on it with me. I mean, I don’t have a trunk to throw you in, so it’ll make kidnapping you a little harder to do. I’m going to have to figure something else out instead, I guess,” he says with a shrug, his lip twitching.

“I could just go home,” you offer, thinking you’ve finally found your way out of this conversation.

“I could just follow you there.”

You blanch, heart beginning to hammer. Maybe the kidnapping comment hadn’t been meant in jest like you’d thought.

“You’re…going to follow me home?”

“Yeah,” he says, nodding just once.

“Why would you do that?” You ask, all sense of humor having now left you.

“To keep asking you to go on a ride until you say yes,” he states matter-of-factly.

“Are you really not going to take no for an answer?”

Your eyes flit between both of his, sure that he can’t possibly be serious.

“I don’t plan to, no,” he replies, shaking his head.

You shift in your seat. “What if I told you that you’re making me uncomfortable?”

“I’d say that you’re hurting my feelings by not letting me take you for a ride,” he says with a grin, trying to lighten the mood a little.

He can tell that you’re scared. Sweet thing like you should’ve never walked in this joint unless you wanted him to lay eyes on you. And maybe eventually a hand, too—slipping up that pretty little skirt.

You go to stand, to finally leave, and then he does, too.

You merely glance to him before you turn away to head toward the door. Lizzie—your best friend—will have to call you later. You can’t be here.

You wrap your arms around yourself, making yourself as small as possible as you weave through broad frames and men gesturing wildly as they tell tall-tales, a few whistling and making cat-calls on your way out, but not one lays a hand on you, much to your relief.

You don’t know that it’s due to Benny trailing closely behind you, eyes flitting between hungry men that wish to take a bite out of you, but can see: he’s already sunk in his teeth.

Even if you don’t know it yet.

Once you exit the bar, you go to start walking down the street, until you hear him call from behind you.

“Not safe out here by yourself.”

You turn slowly back to him.

“Hop on and I’ll give you a ride,” he says before retrieving a cigarette from the front pocket of his vest, and a zippo from his jeans.

You watch as he lights a smoke.

You take only one step closer, crossing your arms.

“I’ll just call a cab from a payphone,” you say softly.

He licks his lips.

“You can do that, but I’ll just end up following it. So, either way, we end up at the same place. Might as well save yourself a few bucks and let me drive you instead. But it’s up to you,” he says, leaning back against his Indian.

You take another small step forward. “If I let you take me home, will that make you happy?”

He grins slightly. “Definitely.”

“And you’ll go home straight after? Or come back here?”

He turns around, swings a leg over his bike, and you jump slightly when it roars to life after he bears down on the lever, kickstarting it.

He glances to you over his shoulder and jerks his head, signaling for you to get on.

You take cautious steps toward him and he watches you all the while, smirking slightly to himself at the innocent look of you. Like an easily-startled little lamb.

Maybe that makes him the big bad wolf, come to blacken you with grease-stained hands and lustful looks.

He likes the idea of getting a handful of some part of you. Maybe a thigh while they’re wrapped around him as the two of you speed down the interstate.

You seat yourself behind him, carefully swinging your leg over the side as well—positioning your feet securely before tucking your skirt between your legs—and you lightly grip his hips.

He shakes his head, tossing his cigarette to the asphalt. “Need to hold on tighter than that, sugar, unless you want to be part of the pavement. Be a shame to scrape up a face that pretty.”

You flush at his flirtatious comments.

He reaches down then, grabs your hands, and he wraps your arms tightly around his middle.

“Like that,” he states.

The tires start to roll and your eyes go wide as saucers at the feel, your grip tightening around him involuntarily.

Benny grins.

He revs the engine, then takes off like a bat out of hell.

You’d had to shout directions in Benny’s ear the entire way home, so you fill with relief—at the cost of a slightly-sore throat—when he pulls up out front of your apartment building.

You feel like your body is still vibrating all over from the feel of the engine when he finally kills it. Your ears ring and your face feels half-froze from the cool night air, but you also feel… You’re reluctant to admit it, but exhilirated. It had been fun. The most fun you’ve maybe ever had, in fact.

You can’t tell him that, though, or he’ll come back and ask you to do it all over again.

You remove yourself from where you’re seated behind him, nearly stumbling on your feet when you get off to stand on the sidewalk.

Benny kicks the stand, then rests back against his bike, lighting up a new cigarette as he looks you over.

“Never told me your name,” he remarks, taking a long drag.

You’re quiet for a moment, then sigh softly.

“Y/N.”

He smiles. “Y/N Cross. It’s got a nice ring to it, don’t it?”

Your brows furrow. “Cross?”

“My last name,” he replies.

You shift on your feet, refusing to entertain such a comment. “Thank you for the ride. Goodnight.”

You turn away to head inside and he stands.

“I’ll just wait out here, then.”

You look back to him with raised brows. “What? Why would you do that?”

He steps over to you and his lip twitches when you’re forced to lean your head back to meet his eyes. You’re so damn small compared to him.

Little lamb, indeed.

He tucks a curl behind your ear, brushing his knuckles along your cheek—the cool metal of his ring causing you to flinch when it meets your now-heated skin.

“You got work in the mornin’?”

Your brows knit together. “Yes. Why?”

“Well, unless you tell me what time to be back here by, so I can take my girl to work, I’ll just have to wait for you.”

He grins when your beautiful eyes go all wide again.

“I’m not…not your girl. And you can’t stay out here all night.”

He runs the pad of his thumb along the soft skin of your jaw. “I think you are.”

He glances to the door behind you. “Going to invite me in, then?”

You take a small step back. “N-no.”

He nods.

“Then I’ll be here,” he says, returning to his bike, leaning back against it.

You snort quietly, calling him on his bluff. He just wants an invite inside is all. He doesn’t really mean it, you’re sure. Well, somewhat sure. Sort of…

He’ll get bored after a handful of minutes and go back to the bar.

You head inside without another word, shutting the door behind you.

It’s shortly before four a.m. when you wake with an urge to use the bathroom.

Once you’ve relieved yourself, you pad over to the window in your bedroom and hesitate before peeking between the curtains.

Surely he left hours ago. He didn’t meant it.

You’re proven wrong when you’re met by the sight of Benny staring up at your window, a lit cigarette lightly illuminating his face against the dark—yellow streetlights casting him in a soft glow.

You pull the curtains back closed, your heart hammering in your chest.

Is this something he’s done before? Does he…stalk women? What’re you? His newest target?

You pad over to the phone beside your bed, considering the option of calling the police, but you have a feeling that things would go from simply being uncomfortable to being dangerous if you got the law involved with the Vandals.

You tug on a robe, then slip your feet into a pair of houseshoes before going down.

When you open the complex’s front door, Benny’s head slowly raises, and he moans quietly in the back of his throat at the sight of your bare legs and the rest of you being clad only in a thin, silk nightgown, which allows him to get a good look at you—your hair a tousled mess from sleep. Even your pretty little cheeks are flushed from warmth.

He’d love nothing more than to be the very thing making you hot all over.

“You can’t be out here. You…you need to go home now. Aren’t you tired?”

He shrugs. “I’ll be alright.”

Your face screws into an expression of incredulity. “You’re not all there, are you?”

You immediately cringe at that remark, hoping you’ve not upset him or stoked his anger.

Meanwhile, he blinks at you, taking a drag from his cigarette. “I want somethin’, I go after it. I leave, and this time tomorrow, you could be goin’ with another man. Can’t have that, so I’m stayin’. I gotta look after my girl.”

You scoff in disbelief. “I’m not ‘your girl’. We don’t… You don’t know me. This is—it’s not—”

He steps forward, cupping your cheek. “If you tell me what time to be here in the mornin’ to take you to work, I won’t have to keep standin’ out here. Otherwise…”

He releases you then, leaning back against his bike.

You stare at him for a moment, but quickly relent.

You’re exhausted and want to go back to bed.

“I leave at 7:35.”

He’s quiet for a moment.

“I’m not going to show up at that time, only to find out that you’re already gone, am I?”

You shake your head, crossing your arms. “No. It’s the real time. I know if I lied, you’d just come back tomorrow night and do this all over again.”

He smirks.

Already you’re getting to know his nature.

He flicks his cigarette to the ground, grinding it out with his boot. And then he steps forward, cups the back of your head—taking you by surprise—and he presses a brief, firm kiss to the soft skin of your forehead before climbing atop his bike.

He positions his booted foot over the kickstart, but glances to you first over his shoulder before bearing down on it.

“Night, little lamb,” he says, starting the engine.

Your brows knit together and you take a step forward. “W-what?”

Instead of replying, he simply drives away to catch a few hours of shut-eye.

[jo-speaks]

talk too much

in which…

Trevor realizes fem! reader is just like him.

Trevor and Quinn were in the living room of the infamous Michigan lake house. Quinn had unfortunately gotten there the same day Trevor did, and was now victim to one of Trevor’s rants.

“So when is Jack getting here with his girl?” Trevor asked, finally ending his hour-long rant about the flight to the lake house. 

Quinn rubbed his eyes, “They should be here any minute now. And also, she’s not his girlfriend.” Trevor gave Quinn a confused look, “Really?” “Trevor. We’ve all known her for ten years. If they were gonna date, they would’ve done so by now.” “I guess you’re right.” “Also, if she were to date any one of us, it would probably be you.” The boy raised his eyebrows, “Why do you say that?” “Because you both talk too damn much.” Quinn said, taking a sip of his water. 

The timing of his words couldn’t have been more perfect. The boys heard footsteps and the familiar sound of your voice was getting closer and closer to the door. Quinn let out a sigh of relief, getting up to open the door for you and Jack. 

As soon as Jack stepped foot in the house, he dropped his bags and ran straight for the living room. He planted face down onto the couch and let out a long groan, causing Trevor to laugh. 

“What’s wrong with you?” He asked. 

Jack turned his head to look at Trevor, “She’s just like you, bro. I love her, but holy shit.”

The boys knew you loved to talk, it was one of the things they loved about you and what drew them to become friends with you all those years ago. But sometimes, you didn’t know when to stop. 

They were never really annoyed with it, always ready to listen to whatever was on your mind at that moment, but sometimes their brains needed a little rest before they were able to process anything you said. 

Trevor was the only one who hadn’t realized this about you, probably because he was the exact same way. He thought you talked just the right amount and was surprised when you were able to sit down through his long hour talks without complaining. 

Quinn had walked into the living room dragging Jack’s bags with him while you followed behind with yours. You had both decided that getting the bags in your rooms was a task you’d deal with later. So for now, you set your bags down and pulled Quinn into a hug. 

“Hey Trevor!” You greeted, pulling away from Quinn to hug the taller boy.

He gladly returned it, “Hi Y/N. Any clue why Jack’s pouting right now?” You laughed at his comment, “I was telling him about my flight. Craziest thing-”

Jack and Quinn both groaned for the same, yet different reasons. Jack had already heard this story, the four hour long drive from the airport giving you plenty of time to talk his ear off, and Quinn had just got done listening to Trevor talk about the exact same thing. 

“How about we go to the boat? Luke said it’s ready to go.” Jack stated, trying to avoid hearing about your flight again. 

A warm feeling rose to your face, suddenly feeling a little embarrassed. You smiled and nodded, following the boys out towards the boat. 

Trevor pulled you back gently, separating you from the other two. “I’d love to hear about your flight.” “Really?”

He nodded, “Yeah. As long as you let me talk about mine.”

~✩~

The four of you spent the rest of the day out on the boat, tired out from all the wakesurfing you did.

Deciding to call it a night, you all headed back inside the house. Since everyone was dry by this point, the boys laid down on the couch, while you headed upstairs to shower. 

Stepping into the bathroom, you already felt relaxed before even stepping under the water. You pulled your hair out of its up-do then pulled your shirt over your head. Not realizing you hadn’t locked the door, the sound of it opening made you jump. 

“Oh! I’m so…” Trevor began, losing his train of thought when he saw you in nothing but a bra. 

Neither one of you moved, too stunned with what was happening. After a few seconds, he blinked rapidly, before apologizing and backing out of the bathroom. 

“Wait!” You called out. 

Trevor stopped in his tracks, focusing his attention on you yet again.

“Thanks for listening to me today. I know I’m a bit… much sometimes.” He let out a soft laugh, “I don’t think you’re too much. I think you’re perfect.” He took a few steps closer to you, “In many ways.”

You cupped his face with your hand, rubbing your thumb gently against his cheek. His eyes fell to your lips, wanting nothing more than to kiss you at that moment. So he did. He leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips, which you instantly returned. 

It became heated quickly, his hands wandering the rest of your body. His hands found the back of your thighs, lifting you up onto the sink counter, finding a home between your legs as they wrapped around his waist. 

You pulled away breathlessly, “Join me?”

[lidiasloca]

time travelling to harry

PART TWO

harry potter x reader

summary: you use a malfunctioning time-turner that takes you to Harry Potter’s fifth year, and you find it very difficult to not fall in love with the Hogwarts’ legend.

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄☆

"Yes."

Harry gives you a dazzling smile in answer. “Great!”

It is then that you realize the weight of your decision. What if this changes something? Well – if you change something in your past, meaning this present, then you’d see it already in your present, meaning this future, right?

“What are you thinking about?”

“Oh. Nothing. Nothing.” You try to smile, but it comes out nervously, paired with your flushed face. “Mmmm… where do we start?”

Before he can answer, Ron’s yell cuts through the bubble you've created with Harry. “Guys, it’s getting late. We’ve decided to leave it here for today.”

“Oh,” Harry mutters in surprise. You hadn’t realized it was this late either. “Alright, then. See you all tomorrow.”

He waves Ron and Hermione goodbye, and the rest of the students follow them to leave. At last, Harry turns back to you. “We should leave as well. Do you have class now?”

You definitely don’t have class now, nor in about fifty years or more.

“I don’t,” you shyly say under your breath.

He will not find out. He will not find out. Calm down.

“Oh. Alright. Great!” He chuckles nervously, which makes you more nervous. Does he know your secret? “And would you like to – well, I am going to visit Hagrid, maybe… do you want to come?”

Oh my. Hagrid.

“Hagrid?”

“Hagrid. Yes.”

Hagrid. You were going to meet yet another Hogwarts legend.

Your friends always mocked you when you confessed it made you cry that you never got to meet the unique keeper of keys. But now you are, and Harry can read the joy it brings you by your beam.

“Is that a yes?”

You nod with carefree elation. Maybe this wasn’t too bad? Maybe it was the greatest thing that has ever happened to you. This was all you never knew you wanted – meeting your school heroes. Maybe befriending them… Maybe…

Your delight doesn’t falter one bit as you wander with Harry through the castle. Somehow, magic is more alive now than in the future. As if Harry’s magic spreads through the air. Perhaps the saying was right, Harry Potter really was the light of Hogwarts.

“What?” he asks with a laugh as he finds you watching him.

No embarrassment shows on your face, just an easy smile that creates a new complicity between you two. It has been fun talking to him during your walk. You’ve found out he truly is a sweetheart; it was relieving that the hero isn’t intimidating at all, but just a kind boy with a good heart. He is even quite timid, which makes him even more endearing.

“Nothing.”

He chuckles, and shaking his head, remarks, “I have to ban you from using that word anymore.”

You match his playful chuckle. “I’d be left with nothing.”

“Oh, shut up!” he laughs even deeper, hitting you playfully with some books he had picked up for Hagrid.

“Ouch!”

“No, but really – you have to stop saying nothing and start explaining who you are. Or why I’ve never seen you at Hogwarts.” There’s a suspicion in his tone that makes you alert. But he laughs it off.

“Mmmm,” you start, unsure of what to say. “Well, I’m Y/N.”

“I know that,” he says plainly.

“I told you it’s difficult to explain.”

“Try.”

You shouldn’t. You know you shouldn’t. But… You inspect the hallway, watching for any signs of someone being around. You're alone, but you still don’t feel safe enough.

“Hey – What?” he exclaims as you swiftly take him by his uniform and pull him through a door. “What are you doing?”

“I can’t risk being heard,” is all you explain.

His confusion only grows, and he takes a step toward you, as if the closer he gets, the closer the answer is to him. “So you are going to tell me?”

“I am.” You sigh, already regretting your decision. “But you have to promise me you will tell no one.”

He nods. “I promise.”

You don’t know why, but you believe his words utterly, just like you would Nathaniel, your most trusted friend. You try to tell your heart you shouldn’t trust this boy you’ve just met so blindly, no matter how kind and good he is.

“Alright. Well… the thing is… I may have come here from – well – from the future.” It almost sounds like a question, the way you say it. A question Harry most definitely doesn’t have the answer to.

“What.”

You nod.

“What do you mean you come from the future?”

You owe him a longer explanation. “I found an old time-turner. I turned it, and now I’m here.” You go to show him the collar, but you don’t find it on your neck, where it should be. Oh no. You must have dropped it somewhere, right? If not, how would you ever return?

Or maybe – just maybe, this was your perfect excuse to never return. To stay here.

“Oh.”

“Yes, oh,” you reply, looking down at your feet. You’ll look for the time-turner after this. “I didn’t know what I was doing, and I don’t know what to do now.”

“You mean you don’t know how to go back?” he asks, still taken aback.

“No, that I know. I would just have to turn the ring five times, or so. It’s just that… Nevermind.”

“What?”

“It’s not that I don’t know how to go back, it’s just that I don’t know if I want to.”

“You don’t want to go back?” he questions, surprised.

“I don’t want to leave.”

“But… Why?”

He’s really making this hard for you. You hope your answer is clear enough as you look into his eyes.

You. This Hogwarts. It feels like home. “I like it here, I guess,” you mutter at last.

He nods, registering your words thoughtfully.

“I’m glad,” he whispers, as a soft blush creeps up his cheeks.

“You are?”

“Yes. I like you… being here.”

You can't help the smile that grows on your face as you avoid his eyes. “I like that you’re here, too.”

He returns your smile, and you simply can't move your eyes away from the sweetness of it.

But your tender moment lasts only so long. “Do you hear that?” he asks, walking outside the door.

“What?” But then your answer comes in the form of a yell.

“Y/N?!” It’s Nathaniel’s voice. “Y/N? Where are you?”

How on earth–

“Nathaniel?” you ask as you face him outside of the room. Harry follows you immediately. “Nathaniel, how did you–”

But your words fade as he collides with you in a worried hug. His uneven breath warms your neck intermittently. “Y/N,” he whispers. “I thought I’d never see you again.”

“How – How did you get here?”

“I took the time-turner I assume you used.”

“It was there? It stayed in that room?” So that’s why you didn’t have it anymore. But then – “Do you have it?”

He finally lets go of you, shaking his head no.

Oh my. This complicates things.

“But we will find a time-turner here. I promise. And then we will return home.”

Home.

You turn to the boy behind you. Harry’s face is nearly unreadable, but his eyes tell you he doesn’t want you to go.

You don’t want to go either.

But how would you tell Nathaniel? How could you abandon your real life?

“But we can’t waste much more time,” Nathaniel continues, and you spare a final sorrowful glance at Harry before turning to your friend. “We have to find one now.” He looks behind you and adds, “Does he know where we could find one?”

Even though you love your friend, it still hurts that he sometimes acts this way – that he treats Harry like no more than furniture, not even acknowledging he’s here. Not even speaking directly to him. It was his most Slytherin trait.

And it’s your most Slytherin trait when you tell him sharply, “I don’t need one.”

“What?” he asks with his eyebrows raised.

“I’m staying.”

-Characters by J K Rowling

[the-oblivious-writer]

Pretty Girl |3|

Tara Carpenter x Fem!Reader

Chapter Three: Unspoken Words

Summary: You and Tara have been avoiding each other for a while now until you decide enough is enough

Warning(s): Swearing, R can be just as confusing as Tara sometimes and oh so stupid & avoiding confrontation

Notes: Chad's the best wingman out there and that's canon, I hope this doesn't feel rushed. Past few days have been a bit busy but I'm glad I was able to get this out for you all! This series isn't over just yet

Previous Part|Next Part

It. Had. Been. Fucking. Weeks. You and Tara were still not talking. Geez you two were so stubborn. It was frustrating. At least it was for her friends. Tara would talk about you constantly which would make it even more frustrating for the people around her.

 Buying a drink? Y/N would like that

Watching a movie? Y/N loves this part

They needed you two to talk or else it was going to be the death of them. You were still not sure how to approach the whole thing. You definitely didn’t want to be the first to give in but you also couldn’t stand the distance. You missed her but no way could you admit that. 

Either she was going to give in or neither of you would ever talk again it seems. That was until you found yourself knocking on the younger Carpenter’s window.

Tara hadn’t gotten a message from you in weeks so you best believe when she saw your contact name appear on her phone she scrambled to get it. 

‘open your window’

Tara furrowed her eyebrows before turning to her window and seeing you outside. You gave a slight wave and gestured for her to open the window. She took out her headphones and did as asked. When you climbed in she stared you down. It was confusing, part of her knew exactly what to say and the other didn’t. 

“What are you doing here?” Was all she managed to get out. This caused you to let out a frustrated huff. She was acting as if you weren't totally ignoring each other for weeks!

“Just popping by. Was in the neighborhood so why not, right? Oh and while I’m here just wondering..what the actual fuck, Carpenter?” You catch Tara off guard, she definitely wasn’t expecting that.

“Excuse me?” You let out a laugh to her response before replying, you couldn’t believe her right now. 

“You heard me. How about we start off with that blow up from three weeks ago. What was that? Cause I’d really like to know” You cross your arms waiting for a response from the shorter girl.

She fiddled with her hands while trying to find her words. “I’m- sorry” Tara irritatedly sighed, being the first to give in. Her gaze met the floor so she didn’t see your amused smile. Tara took a seat on her bed and crossed her legs, still avoiding your stare.

“Still doesn’t answer my question but I’ll take it. And uh I guess I’m sorry too” You take a seat next to Tara, your hand lands in a spot that’s less than an inch away from hers.

“You weren’t the only one being a stubborn ass. The phone works both ways” She gives a small smile and finally looks up at you.

“How about a truce?” You propose. “A truce?” Tara repeats. 

“Correct, a truce. Next time we get into an argument-”

“I don’t want there to be a next time..” Tara interrupts, saying it so low as if she was scared for you to hear you.

“We’re human Tara, it’s bound to happen again” Your hand lays on Tara’s in an attempt to comfort her. “But how about when it does, next time we won’t just ignore each other for weeks at a time. We can give each other room but..” You look down,”That was too much room, Tar.” 

She looks at you in understanding and nods followed by an “ok.” Tara rubs your hand, signaling for you to look back at her. The Carpenter smiled when you finally met her gaze. 

You both stared at each other, her eyes fell to your lips as yours did the same to her. “I never told you why I lashed out that night” Tara started as you both slowly leaned closer.

“Oh yeah? And what about it” Tara tilted her head and leaned in closer, your lips were so close to touching. All you had to do was-

The door slammed wide open. “Tara! Check it ou- Oh sorry did I interrupt something?” Chad asked genuinely with a Nintendo switch in his hand. He had no idea you were even here. He thought Tara was just in here studying with her headphones in.

You and Tara had pulled away from each other quickly and shook your heads. “Nope we were just talking, what’s up?” Chad had finally finished the level he and Ethan have been trying to beat for months! You liked Chad. He was a cool dude and you even hung out with him sometimes.

You talked about a few things, Mario kart, football, Spider-man and the occasional random shit. He was also a pretty good wingman. But unfortunately he was as oblivious as you could be sometimes. A girl was flirting with you? Sure, go for it dude. A guy wanted to get to know you? That’s awesome! 

He’s the hype man everybody needs in life but he’d get so caught up in it that he didn’t notice the glares Tara sent him. Still confused as to why Mindy hit him in the shoulder when things like this happened. What’s wrong with being a supportive wingman? 

Mindy and Anika really need to sit him down and have him filled in on the two love birds. Even Ethan knew! 

—

A couple days have passed and you end up hanging out with Tara and her friends. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t a little nervous. You mostly just talked with Chad and sometimes Ethan since they were a package deal. Anika seemed nice but you were still nervous because you haven’t really talked much so you weren’t sure what she thought of you. 

Then there was her girlfriend, Mindy. Twin sister of Chad and much more intimidating. On the outside it should’ve been the opposite of that but for some reason you just got the hunch she didn’t like you. You knew she was a protective friend but you couldn’t help but wonder how that persuaded her thoughts of you. 

You were all sitting comfortably in the living room with a show playing, Tara on the couch while you laid between her legs. Your back faced her as you laid against her chest, her legs wrapped around you as she gently played with your hair. Pretty cozy for a couple of friends. 

“So,” Mindy spoke up. “You two made up?” Anika gave Mindy a look but the twin just shrugged. 

“Yeah. We’re good now” Tara answered so you wouldn’t have to. Mindy hummed in response. You and Tara weren’t one hundred percent sure where she was going with this but you knew she wasn’t done.

Before Mindy could interrogate any further your phone rang. “Who is it?” Tara asked curiously, you lifted it slightly to see who it was before turning off the ringer. “No one important. Just going to let it ring.” Tara replied with an unconvinced hum but didn’t press any further. 

Sam entered the apartment with take out in hand, “Hey guys.” Everybody responded with ‘Heys’ and ‘Hi’s’ before she sat the food down. “Got some food on my way home so eat up. I’m gonna head out in a few” Sam said before walking to her room. Okay..that was strange. She only sent a single glare and no snarky comment about you being over.

Must be warming up to me or just really tired you thought. Tara looked down to you, not wanting to move out of her current position. Oh how the turned tables. “Are you going to eat something?” She eventually asked. You only shook your head and continued to stare at the TV. She could wait to eat, she didn’t mind. Tara had gotten too used to you being in her arms. It gave her a feeling of warmth that was too good to let go of just yet. 

The two of you made up and you were finally back in her arms. Everything was back to the way it was before. Nothing could ruin this.

An hour had passed and you fell asleep on Tara, not that she was complaining. She held onto you and enjoyed having you there in her arms. Suddenly you start to open your eyes as you slowly start waking up.

“What time is it?” You ask tiredly while rubbing your eyes. “Eight forty-two” Ethan responded, causing you to scramble out of Tara’s arms. The action caused the younger Carpenter to furrow her eyebrows in confusion. “What’s wrong?” Tara asked, her tone laced with a bit of worry.  

“I’m late for a date but we’ll do a rain check!” You reply before rushing out the door leaving Tara to process what you just said. 

“What the actual fu-”

You had a what?!

-----------

[bambinella]

Rumors pt 2

I recently made a post to address the ongoing situation, and I feel like I have to address it yet again, since it’s getting out of hand. 

First of all, I want to apologize to everyone that got involved in this mess, especially the tickle community. I’ve been part of this community for many years now, and I’m enraged by all the hate all of you are receiving by this anon. None of you should be in this situation, and I definitely want to get out of it. I’ve been trying to keep this wildfire contained, but anon is targeting literally anyone right now, be it people who follow me or people who’ve never heard of me before.

In my previous post I mentioned that I suspect ticklee25 to be behind the anon hate, but I didn’t specify or clarify why. Since I still think it’s her, I will explain my thoughts on the why. I’m aware that the messages are still anonymous, so I cannot say with 100% certainty that it’s her, but there are certain details I wish to address.

For starters, the anon hate started on the day I blocked her. ticklee25 and I chatted on discord for a while, and after she became rude, insulted me and my interests and started calling me several times in the middle of the night, knowing of our 5 hour difference, I removed her as a friend. The next day she reached out on tumblr asking me why, yet since I was out all day I hadn’t seen it so I didn’t respond. Then I came back to another message where she was gaslighting me into being a bad friend, which ended with ‘bye’. I removed her as a friend on tumblr too and simply deleted the conversation, since I thought that was gonna be the end of it. Alas, it was not. When she returned with yet another message to insult me some more, I blocked her. That’s when the hateful rumors started spreading. At the time I had no idea I'd have to take screenshots to collect proof, so this is all I have on this matter.

Secondly, some of the anon hate messages had my real name in it. Since my name is not on my tumblr page, you’ll only know my name if you either know me in real life or if we chatted. This indicates that the anon hate is being spread by someone I talked to before. I have no quarrel on tumblr with anyone else, so this points yet again in her direction. Seems a little too suspicious to me to be a coincidence.

The first anonymous message (as far as I know) was sent to my close friend @otomiyaa, which claimed that I was a pedophile. It quite frankly shocked me since I was not prepared for the anonymous hate. I naively thought it would stay with that simple message, and then I thought it would stay with otomiyaa. For a while it did, as she kept receiving several anonymous messages which insulted me. It went from me being a pedophile, to being fat and ugly, to being a shitty writer, which heavily reminded me of the last message I’d received from ticklee25. Then it started spreading to other people, since anon didn’t get the satisfaction of a reply. They first targeted everyone who interacted with me, and when those accounts defended me they moved on to people that don’t follow me and minors.

I have an entire list of rumors being spread about me, from very serious to simply stupid, but it sadly didn’t stay with just rumors. Anon here took it upon themselves to send anonymous messages warning everyone that I spread hate into the tickle community, only to send the hateful anonymous message themselves while tagging me in it. Most people instantly realized that it would be really stupid to send an anonymous message and tag yourself in it, so they knew it wasn’t actually me sending the messages. Here are some examples:

Another thing I have noticed is how, despite me blocking ticklee25, the anonymous hate continued being sent. Some argued that this was a good enough reason for me to change my mind, that it couldn’t be her. However, after looking into it I noticed how several blogs, who were reblogging hate about me, hadn’t even been up for 24 hours, or spammed within mere seconds of each other. Very suspicious again. Some of these blogs are lifeisstrangeenthusiast, swiftlyticklish and ticklelover5.

So, I simply want to clarify some things. I am not a pedophile. I have not been sending hate to people from the tickle community. I have not been sending hate towards minors. I have never forced someone to do something they’re uncomfortable with. I am not a groomer. I am not trying to steal your partner. There may be more rumors, but these are the ones I wanted to address. And to be perfectly clear, I am not the jesus anon.

If you get messages like these, please know that it’s not me. I literally have no reason to spread hate, and I don’t want to stoop to this level. Like I said before, I’m only here for fanart, fanfics and da gays. 

I turn myself directly to the anon now. I suspect you've created multiple accounts to keep spreading hateful messages, no matter how many times I’ve blocked you. You could have reached out to me and spared everyone the pain, but you wanted to cancel me so badly so instead you decided to make it everyone’s problem, even going as far as targeting minors. You’re pathetic. I’ve taken the next step, and unlike you I do have screenshots to back me up.

Lastly, I want to thank everyone who has backed me up over these past 6 weeks. You’ve all helped me more than you realize, and I love each and every one of you. I'm super grateful.

@otomiyaa @rach-amber @thebest-medicine @whatsjulietslastname @amazingmsme @turtlee-rockin @toweroftickles @wild-lee-ticklish @softleesam @fluffomatic @ticklerfluff @atlaslunacozycorner @a-ticklish-banshee @objectfromthesky @kaseylovesbayley @knizmokat @wheezylee-jay

Longest post of my life, but it had to happen. I hope we can end the bs now, because I'm honestly done with it.

Update: I didn't have to wait long, as suspected, until someone was getting pissy about my post. @ticklelover5 decided to spread screenshots of random conversation with ticklee25 before the drama started, which only confirmed my suspicions that they're the same account and same person. Thing is, all her replies somehow have mysteriously disappeared! Shocker. So it looks like I'm just talking to myself like a fool. And this somehow adds to her cancel campaign? Proving that I'm horrible because I was talking? I'm confused and pissed, but I kinda expected this when I made this post. I'll post them here too, so you can see what I'm talking about.

Not gonna lie, the fact that she's been blocked back in december and somehow still has my conversation is kind of sickening to me. The fact that it's my current pfp and not the one from my screenshot means she just screenshotted these to try and get some dirt on me. I'm glad I got out of this friendship just in time, and I would have left sooner if I knew the level of psycho I'd be dealing with.

[thedoctorisgroovy]

Slim Pickin's

» Pairing: Spencer Reid x BAU!Reader

» Word count: 1655

» Warnings/Tags: Spencer has a gf(non canon made up name), mentions of sex (but no detail), alcohol consumption (no one is drunk though), using people to get over someone, reader sleeps with people as a coping mechanism, angst, idiots in love, fluff, happy ending!!!

» A/N: I heard this song and couldn't resist writing something based off of it. Who else is obssessed with her album?? If anyone was gonna make me break my streak of bad dating it was be our boy Spencer.

I realised I was in love with Spencer after the 3rd time hooking up with my friends with benefits that month.

Over a bottle of wine at my best friend Penelope’s house, we’d discussed my boundaries and expectations and after the douchebags I’d been out on simple first dates with, the bar was still unbelievably low and yet was still clearly unattainable.

“I just want someone who’s jacked but kind ya know? Literally just nice and is alive and breathing, not much to ask for.” Close to slurring every syllable that came out of my mouth and essentially on the verge of tears. I wanted to follow it up with something about wanting Spencer - my other best friend and colleague - but I didn’t need to. She knew well enough what I was insinuating after hearing me pine over him for months already.

“Okay get that cute and sexy butt up, we’re going out and finding you someone that you can move on with!”She exclaimed, reaching out to tap my butt as I stood with her.

“I already have someone, I have Jake.” Reminding her of my frequent friends with benefit situation that developed about a month ago.

“Well you can have multiple ‘someones’ until you get over him, so lets go!” And with that she dragged us to the nearest bar to find me someone new to drink up and drown my sorrows in.

After a thoroughly disappointing evening of fancying and talking to exactly no one, I decide to part ways with Penelope and go home, it was 1am on a work night after all and no more drinks or men would distract me from Spencer the way that sleep could. I finally crash into bed and receive the ever so romantic text from Jake.

“You up?”

“Yeah, just got home from the bar. Long night lol”

“Could I come over their?”

I groan dejectedly before screenshotting the message and sending it to Garcia captioned “Why am I sleeping with a man who doesn’t know the difference between their, there and they’re?” I can almost hear the giggle in her reply.

“Ooh get some girl, see you in the morning, don’t be late!” I send her an upside down smiley face emoji before flicking back to Jake’s name in my messages list.

“Sure. See you in 10. Don’t plan to stay over, I have work at 8.” I reply before dashing off to the bathroom to freshen up and look presentable. I debated sending Spencer the screenshot, knowing he’d get a kick out of someone’s appalling grammar but decided not to, not wanting him to 1. know that I’m sleeping with strangers and 2. give me a lecture on the importance of dating people who are “on your level.” He would never judge me, but he does want what’s best for me, even if he doesn’t realise that it’s him. I hear his familiar knock after a few short minutes and go to open the door. When I do, Jake is immediately on me - obviously pleasantries don’t exist when you’re horny - and we fall into the pattern we’ve developed over the time we’ve been sleeping together.

As Jake did his best attempt at having sex with me, my mind wandered to Spencer. His beautiful curls, his grin that reached both ears and lit up his eyes, his laugh, his wonderful brain full of science and facts and trivia. The way he smelt when he allowed me to hug him sometimes. I knew it was wrong to think about him this way, especially in this moment and especially since he has a girlfriend, but I couldn’t help it. This past case hadn’t helped either. We’d been paired together on every aspect which meant a lot of one on one time in the car, the office or coffee breaks. Everything about him drew me to him like an invisible thread and my heart broke thinking that my current situation would never happen with him. Jake finishing brought me back to my reality and I pretended to while he leaned down to kiss me. He wasn’t a bad kisser by any means, I just didn’t care.

The guilt set in after he left, knowing that I was just using him to feel some sort of connection and satisfaction. I’d been playing him like a slot machine, except I was still losing.  I’d been complaining about these men, all the time knowing that I’m the problem purely because I can’t have what I want. I know that he’s using me too otherwise we’d probably be officially dating instead of just hooking up, but it doesn’t alleviate the embarrassment of knowing I won’t be able to look my co worker in the eye in a few hours time. I hug my knees to my chest and close my eyes, the feeling that I’ll probably end up alone finally getting through to my thick skull. Just as I started to doze off my phone suddenly buzzed. I grab it, only to see Spencer’s name flashing under the text notification.

“Sorry to disturb you so late, are you awake?”

“Hey Spence, it’s okay. I’m just about to head to sleep but we can talk if you need to. Are you okay?”

“I’m so sorry, I’ll let you sleep. Can we talk at work instead, in private?”

“Of course. See you soon. Goodnight Spencer.

“Goodnight.”

My heart pounded in my chest at the possibilities of what he could want to talk to me about. If it was something personal, surely he’d go to Emily or JJ, they’re his best friends.Some sick, petty part of me hoped he somehow knew about my night-time escapades and was jealous. I ended up convincing myself it was work related just to be able to fall asleep that night.

I barged open the door to Garcia’s magical tech cave without looking up from my phone and immediately started off loading to her.

“Ooh girl, it is slim pickin’s out there I swear.. OOF!“ I look up at what I bump into and am met with Spencer’s tear stained face and red eyes, he looks so hurt that my heart breaks in regards to him for the 2nd time in 12 hours.

“Spencer? What’s wrong, are you okay, are you hurt?”

“He broke up with Allie.”

“Oh my gosh, sweetie I’m so sorry. Is this why you wanted to talk last night?” He nodded slightly, wiping his eyes with the backs of his sleeves.

“Please don’t call me sweetie” He pleaded, laughing almost incredulously, the bitterness on his tongue tainting the usual sweet melody of his laughter.

“Okay..?” His sudden change sent me reeling, I always called him pet names and he’s never once had a problem with it.

“You’re the reason they broke up…” Garcia lilted teasingly.

“Garcia!” Spencer snapped her surname back at her, desperation flooding his features.

“Me? What did I do?” I bit back, I knew that I had been nothing but kind and respectful to Spencer so how the hell could this be my fault? Spencer stood there looking mortified and frantic, his frazzled curls sticking to his forehead slightly. I stared at him before begging,

“Spence? Please talk to me.”

“Okay. What Garcia means is, we broke up because I realised that I have feelings for you. On this case, all the time we spent together, I started to fall for you. But it wasn’t just this week, I realised I liked you since you started working with us. And when I got home you weren’t there but I wanted you to be, but I knew that wasn’t fair to Allie so I called her and she came over and we talked and I broke up with her.” He rambled off animatedly, running his fingers through his hair, something he did when he was stressed or preoccupied. I just stood there frozen, mouth hanging open like I was trying to catch flies or something. I couldn’t believe what I’d heard or thought I’d heard. ”You.. you like me?” I thought I was going to faint.

He crossed the gap between us in one stride and wrapped his hands around my waist. His touch was so careful and gentle that I melted into it without hesitation. I rested my head on his chest and listened to his heartbeat for a few seconds before looking up into his beautiful eyes. Everything I wanted and needed was right here in the moment, and I was afraid to let go. He lowered his voice just close enough to a whisper, words meant just for he and I to hear.

“I wanted to talk to you last night but you said you were going to sleep, so I spoke to Garcia instead, and she told me that you’d been hiding this from me all this time. I know it was out of respect but I’m sorry you were hurting. Would you like to go to dinner with me? On a proper date?”

A squeal that left Penelopes’ mouth was quickly silenced by Spencer and I turning to shoot her a death glare. I reached up to stroke his cheek, eyes softening again as I turned my gaze from Peneople to him. Everything in me wanted to scream yes. I wanted to jump onto him, kiss him, wrap myself around him, live in the question for however long I could. But I knew I had to give him an answer, and a real one at that.

“Spencer that’s not fair to you or Allie. You just broke up and I don’t want to be a rebound. I would love to go out with you, okay please know that. But I’ve waited this long, I’m happy to wait a little longer.” He beamed at me, one of his signature ear to ear grins that I’d fallen for long ago.

[thefuseoftemptation]

IT’S THE LITTLE TALKS WITH YOU

‘Just Eddie talking to your bump.’

EDDIE MUNSON X FEM!READER

WARNING(S): cussing, FEM!READER, r and Eddie are expecting, clearly by the title & what you see. lmk if there are more.

I retyped and renamed this bc it was deleted by, yours only. so I’m putting it out once more. I wrote it a while back and to be up front, I don’t remember why it was titled the way it was in the first posting. NOT PROOFREAD.

—

The door shut behind Eddie as he stepped through the threshold, making sure to keep it down with you sleeping just a few feet from him.

You were spread out as soft snores left your mouth, one of your arms under your head for support and the other– resting over your growing tummy.

It was still something Eddie hadn’t gotten used to seeing. While he knew what it meant and what was coming, it was more of him just being in awe of how it was all becoming so clear. It was getting close, and while that was intimidating, he wasn’t going to go there just yet. You guys still had some time, so for now, he was just gonna stand back and watch you give him more than he could ever ask for.

Eddie took his steps over to you, getting down on his knees so he could sit himself on the floor there in front of where you were— his fingers hovering over your stretched skin.

He remembers when you first told him, the look in his eyes as he kept repeating the words to himself. But even though he was up in nerves about the thought of fatherhood—the closer it got— he knew with you there, that it’ll be okay.

Eddie leaned forward, his nose and lips pressed up to the roundness of your tummy— breathing in your familiar scent as he rested himself against you. While he was taking you in, he was also trying to see if he could take them in as well. At least the feeling of them.

As of recently, that’s all they’d been doing. Their hands and feet pushing up against you at any given time.

Twins.

Not one child, but two, growing within your body. Now, while it was definitely more of an unexpectancy than you telling him you were pregnant, you guys couldn’t wait to meet them, nonetheless.

Eddie’s hands rested on either side of your stomach, forehead pressed to the curve as he released a sigh.

“Hello, my little ones.” He breathed out.

It’d become a language by now– the manner of talking to your guy’s children, who were learning what it was like to hear your voices. Whenever Eddie could, which was all the time– he was getting to their level so he could speak to them. Whatever was on his mind, he was telling.

Eddie could feel you stir beneath him—going still at the thought of waking you—something he was trying not to do since you hadn’t been getting much sleep with the growing lives happening within.

Though through the stillness of Eddie, and now you, got a wake up from them in response to their father’s voice. And every time, Eddie held his breath, still trying to accept that it was all so real.

His lips stretched up at the sight before him.

“Shhh, you’ll wake your mother.” He whispered, hands repetitively rubbing your skin.

“I’m already awake.”

The words were followed shortly after Eddie’s, your eyes still closed as you took in the familiar feeling of his touch, only opening them when Eddie murmured to your stomach again. 

“We were caught.”

Getting up and leaning forward, Eddie pressed his lips to your head– eyes then staring into yours as he properly greeted you.

“Hello there.” He lilted, turning his head to the side as he took in your sleepy state. 

“They’ve been at it all day. I’d be close to getting through with something until they were elbowing me, and I was done for.” You said, the heel of your hands rubbing at your eyes. Eddie shook his head, going back to your bump to ‘lecture’ your children.

“What is this I’m hearing? You’re not even out of the womb yet and you guys are already giving mom a hard time….how’s it gonna be when you’re here?...” The latter words said under Eddie’s breath as his eyes panned up to you.

“Who knows, but seeing as they’re part you, something tells me they’re going to be a handful.” You say, the corners of your mouth going from ear to ear.

Eddie looked at you through his lashes, a self-satisfied look on his face. One of his hands reached for yours, thumb rubbing over it as he softly voiced himself.

“Well, what could I say? They take after their dad.” He couldn’t stop himself from smiling at the last word and its meaning. And you couldn’t stop yourself from looking at him when he said it. Your fingers running through his hair as you stared at him.

“They sure do, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.” You whisper. 

Eddie’s eyes suddenly found yours as he took in what you said– your head nodding softly to let him know you meant every single word.

If your children turned out anything like the guy before you, then was there really anything else you could ask for in life?

—

tags: @ali-r3n @madiisixx

A/N: most of what is here is from the first post (what I could remember) and the rest is how I thought it should be,,,,plus it works bc it’s been a while since the initial posting and my writing has improved over time so,,,,it turned out.

[storiesforallfandoms]

favoritism ~ pete davidson

word count: 2171

request?: yes!

@absstark​ “Hi! Ik your requests are closed atm but if u are able to, would you please be able to write me a Pete Davidson x female reader where they are dating and she’s a writer at SNL? Thank you 😊”

description: in which he’s dating one of the writers of his show, so the cast often jokes about her favoritism for him

pairing: pete davidson x female!reader

warnings: swearing

masterlist (one, two, three)

It was actually quite ironic how everything started.

Pete was out at a bar with a couple of his SNL friends when he noticed a pretty girl sat by herself. He didn’t want to seem like a weird guy by just staring at her, but he couldn’t tear his eyes away. She was breathtakingly beautiful.

He felt someone nudge him and he looked up to see they were all looking at him. “Sorry, what were you guys saying?”

Colin smirked at him. “Go talk to her/”

“What? No, I can’t.”

“Why can’t you?” Michael asked. “She’s alone over there.”

“For one, we don’t know if she’s actually here alone. She might have a date who’s in the bathroom, or she’s waiting for him to show up. She might even have a boyfriend who’s not here. And two, girls don’t like being approached by strange men in bars. She’ll probably think I’m a fucking creep.”

They were all giving him a similar look before Devon grabbed his shoulders, turned him towards the bar, and gave him a shove. He stumbled slightly, almost bumping into another person along the way. He regained his footing and glanced over at the woman to make sure she hadn’t seen. With the encouragement of his friends, he took a deep breath and made his way across the bar.

“Hey,” he started, very lamely. She looked up and gave him a polite smile. “I’m sorry if I’m bothering you, but my buddies kind of peer pressured me to come talk to you and I’m mainly doing this to get them off my back. If you just want to reject me, I’ll happily back off.”

She chuckled and glanced over Pete’s shoulder. “Are they the group very obviously staring at us right now?”

Pete followed her gaze to see his friends watching them like a pack of hawks. They didn’t even have the decency to look away when they were caught. Colin even smiled and waved his fingers at them.

“Yeah, those are my asshole friends,” Pete confirmed.

She smiled and waved at the group before turning back to Pete. “Here, sit with me. Give them something to talk about.”

Pete pulled up a stool next to her. He extended a hand towards her. “I’m Pete.”

“(Y/N). Nice to meet you.”

They talked at the bar for hours. They hardly noticed the other patrons starting to clear out or the blaring music starting to die down as the bar did its last call. Pete didn’t even notice his friends had left until the bartender had come to give them the last warning before closing. Before they parted ways, (Y/N) gave Pete  her number and told him to text her the next day.

“Just so I know you’re actually interested,” she had said before walking away.

And he had. The moment he woke up, he texted her, “Hope texting you this soon doesn’t seem to desperate, but I’m very interested - Pete.”

Near seconds later, he got a response. “I’d be a hypocrite if I called you desperate. I’ve been waiting for you to text me since I woke up.”

They texted back and forth all day. Pete was almost late to work because he was too busy texting to realize the time. When he arrived on set he was radiating with happiness. He hadn’t felt hits way in a long time. He had a really good feeling about this one. A strong feeling he hadn’t had before in any of his relationships. There was no doubts this time around.

His castmates noticed his good mood and asked what was up, but he just responded with a shrug and played it off. The guys who had been out the night before knew exactly where his good mood was coming from, but Pete decided to keep it to himself. He didn’t want to get too ahead of himself and tell everyone about (Y/N) just yet.

“Hey, Pete!” Lorne called as he spotted Pete making his way to set.

“Hey Lorne,” Pete said. “What’s up?”

“I wanted to introduce you to our new writer. She’s starting today, so try not to scare her away just yet.”

Pete chuckled, but it died off when Lorne stepped aside and gestured to the newbie. “(Y/N)?”

Her eyes widened, too. “Pete?”

“You two know each other?” Lorne asked.

“We met last night,” (Y/N) responded.

Lorne looked between the two of them. “You...met last night?”

“Not like that,” Pete assured him. “We met at a bar and just talked all night. We exchanged numbers, that’s it.”

Lorne had a skeptical look on his face that made Pete’s heart drop to his stomach. He knew how this was about to go: he would have to delete (Y/N)’s number and their messages, and he’d have to forget their would be romance before it even started. It was a HR issue, one that they would definitely not be allowed to explore.

This was the quickest broken heart he had ever gotten.

“You know, technically I should be sending you to HR to discuss this,” Lorne started. Both (Y/N) and Pete winced at the idea. “But that’s a lot of time and paperwork, and all that bullshit. So, I’m going to take both of your vocal promises that whatever this is will not interfere with either of your jobs.”

The two of them happily agreed. Lorne nodded and muttered something about leaving before he witnessed something he shouldn’t. That left (Y/N) and Pete alone, a slightly awkward tension in the air.

“You didn’t mention that you’re working for SNL,” Pete said. He meant it to come out lighthearted, but he winced when he realized how accusatory it actually sounded.

“I...actually didn’t know you were on the show,” she admitted. “You never mentioned it. You just said you were an actor.”

Pete chuckled. “Okay, we were both a little untruthful. Maybe we start over on the introductions.” He held his hand out to her. “Hi, I’m Pete. I’m a main actor on  Saturday Night Live.”

(Y/N) giggled and shook his hand. “Nice to meet you, Pete. I’m (Y/N), and I just got hired to write for Saturday Night Live.”

“Well, congratulations. And good luck on it. I heard the cast are all assholes, except for that Pete guy. So make sure you give all the funniest jokes to him.”

(Y/N) giggled again, looking down at the ground between them shyly.

It was the start to an amazing relationship. Pete could honestly say he hadn’t felt this happy in a very long time. They kept their personal lives separate from their work lives, which seemed to be the big key to making things work. Nothing was ever discussed about the show unless they were on set, and the minute they walked on the lost their relationship was put on the back burner until they left.

But the moments they had outside of work were some of the best moments of his life. He loved being with (Y/N) and spending most of his free time with her. He was trying not to go too fast with their relationship the way he had in past relationships, but it was hard not to be a bit optimistic with how well things were going.

Of course, dating a co-worker came with some teasing from other co-workers; especially when the other co-workers were fellow comedians. The main joke that the cast liked to tell was that Pete was getting favoritism from (Y/N) when it came to being given the best jokes.

It started during the table read for a skit. They were about halfway through when Punkie cut Pete off mid-joke to proclaim, “No fair, he’s getting the best jokes!”

Everyone stopped to look at her in confusion. They couldn’t tell if the look on her face was serious or not, so Pete asked, “Excuse me?”

“Your jokes here are so much better than mine,” Punkie said. “Must be nice sleeping with one of the writers.”

Punkie laughed, but Pete looked horrified by her “joke”.

“(Y/N) didn’t even write this sketch,” Kenan pointed out.

“That’s a very serious accusation, Punkie,” one of the producers commented.

“Come on, guys, it’s just a joke,” Punkie said. “I’m not mad. Just keep reading.”

Once they finished the table read, Pete decided to approach Punkie himself. “Hey, Punkie, listen. I know what you said was a joke, but...can you maybe be mindful of the way you say it? You could get (Y/N) into a lot of trouble if the wrong people heard what you said.”

“Pete, I didn’t mean it. Everyone knows (Y/N) isn’t actually giving you favoritism in the sketches.”

“I know, I’m just saying to work on your delivery. I really don’t want to have to deal with HR.”

“Okay, I get it. I’ll try to be more funny about it next time.”

And that was truly the wrong thing for Pete to say; for him to agree that if it was clearly said as a joke, that it was fine to say that (Y/N) favorited him. Because once he made the distinction that it was okay to do it in a joking matter, it was like the entire cast had decided they wanted to joke about Pete and (Y/N). It wasn’t anything new for the cast, they joked around with each other all the time. They were all friends, and you had to have a sense of humor if you were gonna be on SNL.

But man, after some time, Pete found it so much more annoying than his castmates meant it to be. He was trying so hard to separate his work life from his personal life, like Lorne had wanted, but now it was like his personal life was open season for all of his friends.

And it was definitely something (Y/N) had noticed. The jokes were never made to her face the same way they were to Pete’s, but she heard the whisperings or the aftermath of certain jokes when approaching Pete. She never said anything at first, which made Pete hope that maybe it didn’t bother her as much as it bothered him.

But one night, as they were leaving set, Pete noticed that (Y/N) seemed distracted. He wrapped an arm around her shoulder and pulled her close to him as they walked through the doors onto the lot.

“What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?” he asked.

(Y/N) nibbled on the inside of her cheek before she spoke, “Do your castmates really think I favorite you when writing?”

Pete stopped walking suddenly, causing (Y/N) to stumble a little. He turned to face her and she did the same.

“Baby, of course not. They’re only joking when they say that shit. No one actually believes it,” he assured her.

She shrugged. “I guess, but they say it so much. I’m starting to worry that they actually mean it but don’t want to say it, which could get us both in a lot of trouble if it ever comes back to HR.”

Pete put his hands on her shoulders. “Baby, I promise they do not mean it. If it ever got to HR, they would all swear up and down that they’re joking. They just like to poke fun at me because I had to fall in love with a new writer on set, out of all people. But it’s not serious, I can promise you that.”

A small smile tugged at the corners of her lips. “You fell in love with me, huh?”

Pete couldn’t help but smile too as his hands ran down her arms to take hers. “I would think that’s pretty obvious by now.”

“You haven’t said the big L word before,” she said. “So, I don’t know, I thought maybe this was all just for fun.”

He chuckled, knowing that she was joking about the last part. They both knew they were in this relationship for the long run. There was nothing “just for fun” about it.

But she was right in saying that he hadn’t said the big three words to her yet. Although he knew deep in his heart that he did love (Y/N), he hadn’t been ready to say the words to her just yet.

That big L word was out there now, though. So, realisitically, he was part way there.

“I love you,” he said.

He didn’t think the smile on (Y/N)’s face could get any wider, but it did. She lit up like Times Square and leaned closer to him.

“I love you, too.”

They closed the gap between them to kiss. It was meant to be a sweet, romantic moment for the two of them, but it was quickly cut off by someone calling, “Get a room you two!”

They pulled apart, chuckling at the reaction, before deciding to go home and do just that.

[rainbowmilk]

Don't Forget Me III

Warnings: Violence, Death, Language

Treech x Reader

Word Count: 2.1k

series masterlist | <- Prev Next -> |

All you wanted was to get away from the people gawking at you, yet oddly enough, the Capitol boy and the rainbow girl were approaching the crowd. Hand-in-hand, no less. That's something you never thought you'd see: a girl from Twelve and a boy from the Capitol holding hands.

They started talking to a clownish-looking man. You couldn’t hear much, but you did learn their names were Lucy Gray and Coriolanus Snow. You couldn’t imagine a situation where you'd willingly talk to anyone from the Capitol. Lucy Gray, however, seemed to thrive under cameras.

Treech, also watching, said, “Y’know, I think I’d rather take my chances in the arena than have to talk to him.”

“Don’t be an ass! He doesn't look that bad,” you say while trying and failing to suppress your laugh.

He raised an eyebrow, staring at you as if you’ve just said the sky is green. “If you say so,” he teased.

The interview, or whatever you want to call it, was cut short when the metal doors swung open, and a group of Peacekeepers marched in, dragging Coriolanus out.

“Do you think he was even supposed to be in here?” You asked as you watched him get dragged out.

“Course not,” Treech smirked, “he looked ready to piss himself when he realized this was being recorded.” He said, once again making you laugh. For a minute, everything felt normal. If you close your eyes, you could pretend you are back home at the market laughing with your friends.

As the day went on, more and more people started showing up. There must’ve been a crowd of about one hundred people when you spotted the familiar red uniform. At first, you thought it was Coriolanus, but as he got closer, you saw that it was a boy with dark brown hair.

He was carrying a large backpack, which was full of food. The boy pulled a sandwich from the bag and tried to coax Marcus, the boy from Two, to take it. He wasn’t having much luck, though. Marcus wouldn’t even acknowledge him.

You were much more inclined to trust him than Coriolanus. Something about him seemed genuine, kinder even. Maybe if you approached him, he’d give you food. It couldn’t hurt to try.

Treech as if sensing your thoughts grabbed your arm. He shook his head at you, saying, “We can’t trust him. He’s Capitol.”

You wanted to argue but decided it wasn’t worth the headache. Treech could be painfully stubborn when he wanted to be.

Coriolanus came by later in the day and seated himself by the bars. A sting of jealousy hit you when you saw him hand Lucy Gray a sandwich. Why hadn’t your mentor shown up?

You didn’t have to wallow for long because Lucy Gray yelled, “You all should get one. They’re real good! Go on, Jessup!”

Her district partner, Jessup, slowly approached the boy with the sandwiches and took one from his hand. He waited until a plum followed and then walked off without a word.

Emboldened, you sprung up, pulling Treech along with you. Rushing to the fence where the boy gave each of you a sandwich and a plum. Satisfied, you walked back to the rocky patch you’d been sitting at. It’s a good thing you got there early because, within a minute, the backpack was almost depleted by the other tributes.

You had to resist the urge to devour the sandwich, forcing yourself to savor every bite. Who knew when your next meal would be? You had to enjoy it while it lasted.

As the sun set, the crowd thinned, and everyone started to settle in for the night. Most tributes opted to stay in the place they’d claimed the first day. Everybody was getting increasingly ill-tempered, yourself included, the more days you spent trapped in the zoo.

Almost on cue, two boys started fighting over a bale of hay, but Marcus broke them up. His display of strength unsettled you. How could you win against that?

I mean, you could handle an ax. Which already left you better off than most tributes. But you weren’t an expert by any means. If you had to face Marcus in the arena, you’d have no chance. Just thinking of the arena made you uneasy. Seeking comfort, you nestled up next to Treech. Letting his steady heartbeat lull you to sleep

The sun beating down on the enclosure stirred you from your slumber. Your eyes flickered open, but the influx of light has you snapping them shut again.

“Mornin,” Treech whispered, his voice still groggy.

“Mmm..too early,” you grumbled, burrowing your head deeper into his chest.

Running on a limited amount of sleep, you didn’t feel up to do anything besides stay curled up behind the rock. The morning passed by uneventfully, with few visitors stopping by. Until Peacekeepers came and corralled you onto a truck. They offered no explanation as to where you were going.

After a short ride, they unloaded all of you at a large building. You were escorted by Peacekeepers who outnumbered you two to one, which you felt was overkill, considering you had heavy shackles attached to your wrists and ankles. They led you to a table and then chained you with concrete weights, telling you to wait for your mentors.

Without much to do, you tilted your head back and surveyed the hall. It was a beautiful space with marble columns, arched windows, and a vaulted ceiling. You should feel awed, you’d never see anything like this in Seven, but it only made you miss home even more.

You glanced over to Treech, but before you could say anything, the doors opened, and twenty-four teenagers marched out. You wondered which one would be your mentor. You hoped they actually cared, but you doubted it, considering they hadn’t visited.

A tall boy who must be your mentor approached your table, sitting in the chair across from you. He introduced himself as “Pliny Harrington”. He seemed nice enough, if not a bit tactless. Maybe this won’t be that bad you allowed yourself to hope.

It was that bad. You were ready to tear your hair by the end of the session. You misheard one question, and Pliny spent the rest of the time talking to you like a toddler. The most infuriating part was his self-satisfied grin because he was so sure he was being helpful.

When the whistle blew to signal the end of the session, you could’ve cried with relief. Even as the Peacekeepers rounded you back into the truck, you were just glad to be done. You’d had enough interactions with Capitol folks to last you a lifetime.

In the truck, you find yourself sitting next to Lucy Gray while she stares at you with a unreadable expression. You are not sure what to make of her.

“Hi...you’re Lucy Gray, right?” you say, wondering why she’s staring at you.

“The one and only,” she quipped back.

Over her shoulder, you could see Treech watching you, his eyes flitting between you and Lucy Gray, unsure if it was a friendly conversation. You shot him a smile, letting him know you were okay.

Lucy Gray must’ve caught the interaction because she gave you a knowing look. She leaned in and whispered, “So, what’s up with you and your district partner?”

Startled, your eyes scanned the others to make sure no one had heard, “What do you mean?”

She shrugged, “You two seem very close, plus he gets this glint in his eyes when he looks at you.”

You glanced up, and sure enough, Treech was still staring at you. He looked startled to have been caught again and looked away. “He’s just—we’ve just been friends for a while,” you say, though your voice has an annoyingly hopeful twinge to it.

“I wouldn’t be too sure about that…well, you at least like him, don’t you?” She asked.

The expression on your face must answer her question because she gave you a pitying smile. Are you really that obvious? You must be. Because it seems everyone, but Treech knew at this point. Even his brothers would tease you about it.

When you arrived back at the zoo, a crowd waited for you. Morning attendance was scarce, but now visitors were pouring in. Annoyed, you tried to hide yourself behind a rock to escape prying eyes.

“What were you and Twelve talkin’ about?” Treech asked, plopping himself beside you.

“It’s a secret,” you say, winking at him, hoping he doesn’t see right through you. Wanting to change the topic, you ask, “How was your mentor?”

He winced at your question “She was very irritating,” he replied. By the look on his face, he was clearly holding himself back from saying anything meaner. “How was yours?”

“God, don’t get me started,” you groan. “He talked to me like I was a five-year-old the whole time!”

You didn’t even think it was possible, but somehow, more people came as the day progressed. Unsurprisingly, Lucy Gray was by the bars entertaining the crowd. What caught your eye, though, was they seemed to be passing her food. The thought of begging for scraps made you flush with humiliation. But it was slowly becoming evident that if you wanted to eat, you’d need to perform.

Other tributes realized this as well. The girl from District 9 did a back handspring, which was rewarded with applause and a bread roll. You stared longingly at the bread, what you would give for a bite.

“Are you hungry?” Treech asked, his mouth turned into a frown.

“I’m fine,” you say, not wanting to worry him.

Treech stared at you blankly, making it clear he didn’t believe you. He stood up, fetching three walnuts off the floor, and marched up to the crowd. He made a good show of juggling the walnuts and keeping the crowd entertained. He was rewarded with a bread roll and an apple.

Once he’s finished, he tipped his hat at the crowd before rushing back to you. He looked pleased with himself as he offered the food to you.

You immediately protested, “No! Don’t worry about me. I’m not that hungry anyway.” In embarrassingly perfect timing, your stomach lets out a growl.

Treech face broke out into a smile, holding out the food again. Sighing in defeat, you ripped a chunk off the bread. As you sat eating, you heard the crowd laughing. When you turned toward the noise, you saw one of the mentors holding out a sandwich in front of her tribute to the girl from Ten, only to pull it away at the last second, much to the crowd’s amusement.

“That’s awfully cruel,” you mumbled, clutching your food protectively to your chest. You tried to block out the noise. No point in making yourself needlessly upset.

However, shrieks coming from the audience members had you snapping your head back towards the bars. You saw the girl from Ten holding a bloody knife. The Capitol girl's face was drained of color as she dropped the sandwich and clawed at her neck. Blood was pouring from her neck and down her fingers as the District 10 girl released her and gave her a small shove.

The Capitol girl stepped back, turning and reaching out, imploring the audience for help. People were either too stunned or too scared to respond. Many drew away as she fell to her knees and began to bleed out. You held no love for the Capitol, but you couldn’t help but pity the girl. It was a horrible way to die.

Coriolanus rushed towards the Capitol girl. Shouting for a medic. He must know her. Your heart dropped when you saw Peacekeepers shouldering their way toward the enclosure. The gunshots sounded almost immediately after. Bullets were fired into the cage without care of who they hit.

You sit stunned for a second as you watch the bullets pierce the District 10 girl's body. Treech practically throws himself toward you, pushing you behind the rock. The bullets continued firing, flying just past your heads.

Even when the gunshots died down, you and Treech remained on the ground. Both of you clinging tightly to one another. After enough time passed, you peeked out and saw soldiers swarming the place, clearing out the last remnants of the audience. Without warning, they swarmed the enclosure, dragging all of you to the back of the cage and lining you up with your hands on top of your heads.

As you stood there, you wondered if they were going to shoot all of you and get it over with. Maybe it would be easier if you died now. At least it would be quick.

[ripeteeth]

Hi! I hope this isn't too random or intrusive, but I discovered your blog recently due to coming across your post about reading Frankenstein when I was searching a book ask meme tag. I really enjoyed reading your thoughts about the books you like and I found I shared quite a few of your tastes and opinions as well (eg. I wasn't a big fan of Love in the Time of Cholera or Neil Gaiman's solo writing either, I really love grotesquely interesting and oddly pretty stories like Perfume).

please don't feel any pressure to answer this if you'd rather not, but I was wondering if you had any other books to recommend or talk a bit about that have really stuck with you? I'm also curious about how you usually find more good books for your future reading list – if you have any tips or advice you could share Thank you! ♡

Hi! I’m always down to talk about books I love or loathe! There’s so much out there in terms of grotesque beauty, so to speak!

I worked in a bookstore all throughout college, so I had a ton of resources there in being connected to other book lovers and had the pure luck to spend thousands of hours shelving books and having so many titles pass through my hands. Many of my favorites are here because something about the cover or summary intrigued me while I was reshelving it or finding it for someone (or pulling it during zoning to return to the publisher if it hadn’t sold). If you have a good used bookstore near you, I HIGHLY recommend just taking time to wander through and just look for something weird! Something that catches your attention, even if you can’t put your finger on why. Ask the booksellers there if they have any recommendations - I’ve rarely met a bookseller that didn’t have an opinion or five about good books to share.

I also had the benefit of having a very book-centric family, especially my mom. She’s my best friend and she introduced me to so many incredible titles, like The Stranger, Jane Eyre, Fried Green Tomatoes at the Whistle-Stop Cafe, Lolita, The Unbearable Lightness of Being, Anna Karenina, Murder on the Orient Express, and the collected hijinks of Jeeves and Wooster. So many of the books I read are ones she recommends!

Beyond that and recommendations from friends, I tend to pick up books from following publishers. Right now I’m obsessed with reading publications by the New York Review of Books and Fitzcarraldo Editions, both of which publish incredibly high-quality writing from authors I’ve usually never heard of. A lot of these books are either experimental or have never been translated into English before (or haven’t been published in decades). I really tend to just go through their catalogs and grab a book at random and I haven’t had a miss yet. Right now from NYRB, I’m reading Mourning A Breast, a memoir of living with breast cancer by Hong Kong writer Xi Xi, and I have Vasily Grossman’s Leningrad on deck. From Fitzcarraldo, I recently loved Drive Your Plow Over The Bones of the Dead by Olga Tokarczuk and am going to start Hurricane Season by Fernanda Melchor soon.

Right off the top of my head, based on the few you referenced here such as Perfume and Frankenstein, I’d recommend:

Grendel - John Gardner

Along with Frankenstein, this is probably my all-time favorite book. It’s a fascinating retelling of Beowulf, all from Grendel’s point-of-view. It’s lush but in that way of undergrowth and decay, and Gardner leans into Grendel’s wretchedness and monstrosity, letting it sing. He’s not interested in rehabilitating a monster, but in giving this pathetic creature a voice. I have a deep love of retellings that move the viewfinder and give the reins to a side character or villain. (Though I admit I haven’t liked many of the recent releases in this vein. They give me the crawling sensation that they were written because it became popular, not because the author had an interest in the story or characters, which is perfectly valid - hey, it’s a capitalist hellscape we all live in, no shame in getting paid - but those aren’t the books I enjoy.)

Crash - J.G. Ballard

This is a weird one. A wonderfully messy, fucked-up weird one where the heartbeat of the story is about psychosexual car crash fetishes. Cronenberg made it into a film in 1995 and the fact that Cronenberg made a movie about it at all should tell you everything you need to know.

A Good Man Is Hard To Find and Other Stories - Flannery O’Connor

If you like dark and oddly beautiful, nothing fits that criteria more than Flannery O’Connor. Something heavy and somber hovers over her work. A sense of dread. Dry grasses. Revival tents. The dead eyed stare of a preacher. A fire you cannot escape.

[A list of recs below the cut]

A few others that come to mind as titles you may enjoy, though I can’t quite put my finger on why. These are all beautifully written, fascinating, and many are uncomfortable in the precise way I like fiction to leave me feeling.

Cassandra - Christa Wolf

The Dwarf - Par Lagerkvist

Hunger - Knut Hamsun

Solenoid - Mircea Cǎrtǎrescu

We Have Always Lived In The Castle - Shirley Jackson

Rashomon and Other Stories - Ryunosuke Akutagawa

The Passion - Jeanette Winterson

Shadow and Claw - Gene Wolfe

Dancing Lessons for the Advanced in Age - Bohumil Hrabal

Voices From Chernobyl - Svetlana Alexievich (Proof that non-fiction can be poetic and haunting)

Just Kids - Patti Smith

A Map To The Door of No Return - Dionne Brand

This Way For the Gas, Ladies and Gentlemen - Tadeusz Borowski

The Street of Crocodiles - Bruno Schulz

Lote - Shola von Reinhold

On Earth We’re Briefly Gorgeous - Ocean Vuong

Autobiography of Red - Anne Carson

Labyrinths - Jorge Luis Borges

If on a winter’s night a traveler - Italo Calvino

2666 - Roberto Bolaño

The Name of the Rose - Umberto Eco

The Pearl Diver - Jeff Talarigo

Beyond The Gates - Molly Gloss

Oryx and Crake - Margaret Atwood

Self-Help and Other Stories - Lorrie Moore

The Historian - Elizabeth Kostova

Get In Trouble: Stories - Kelly Link

Piranesi - Susanna Clarke

Consent - Vanessa Springora

Medea - Christa Wolf

Simple Passion - Annie Ernaux

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

Love your Bale Batman shop girl series! Was wondering how shop girl would feel if Catwoman or some other kick-ass woman came on the scene?

Previous Part | Masterlist | Next Part

Sure thing! I did go with a different kickass woman, since Catwoman does show up in the Nolan trilogy

Warnings: Light angst; fluff added for tasty goodness

You don’t really worry about the tabloids anymore. At least, not in the way that you used to. Michelle still sends you the odd article, but it’s usually accompanied by several 😂 emojis (the most notable is the one that suggested that you, Bruce, and Liz are in a throuple, and Grant is your collective beard). Whatever the press says about Bruce becomes white noise. 

But…What the press says about Batman still tends to seep through. 

You can’t help but notice the Gotham Gazette where it’s spread open on Rose’s desk. She’s turned away from it, reading through the approval form that you’ve brought over to her. You can’t help but reach out, turning the newspaper toward yourself and eyeing the grainy image of Batman. Your brow furrows as you draw the newspaper up to get a better look, scanning it more closely. He’s tied up in what look like vines, and nose-to-nose with a stunning, smiling, partially-masked woman. 

“You haven’t seen that yet?” Rose asks, glancing up from the document. “It’s been all over the papers for weeks.” 

“Has it?” You ask dazedly. You’ve managed to miss it. You haven’t been following mentions Batman as closely on social media since you started your new job—you just haven’t had time. 

“Mhm.” Rose folds her arm on her desk and leans in, peering at the picture. “Apparently it’s a real love-hate-cat-and-mouse kinda thing. Hot, right?” She waggles her brows. “I’d love to see what’s under that suit.” 

“Which?”

“Either.” 

You force a smile at the sight of Rose’s salacious grin, but you can’t help glancing back down at the article and skimming it. You commit the name to memory and make a mental note to look her up on your phone when you get back to your desk—

Poison Ivy. 

--  

It’s probably not much of a surprise that Bruce hasn’t mentioned her to you. For the most part—apart from the odd knowing glance, the bruises on his body, and the night he spilled into the penthouse half-dead—he keeps that side of himself to himself. Alfred doesn’t discuss it with you, either, and perhaps that’s why he seems so surprised when you slam your laptop shut as he comes into the kitchen that Saturday morning, hiding your googled articles of Poison Ivy and Batman. 

Alfred’s brows raise, and you offer him a nervous, guilty smile as your face goes hot. You know that you weren’t fast enough—you’d been so honed in on reading that you hadn’t heard him until he was passing right behind you. 

“...Is he awake yet?” You ask lightly, desperate to break the awkward silence. 

“Only just.” 

“‘Kay.” 

“It seems you and Master Wayne are researching similar topics these days,” He comments, swanning around the kitchen counter and setting down the empty breakfast tray. 

“Oh?” 

“Mm. She's proving to be a tougher nut to crack than he thought.” 

You consider for a moment. You could let the conversation go, of course. You’re certain Alfred wouldn’t press it. But: 

“Has he got any leads?” 

“A few,” Alfred nods, bracing his hands on the counter, “Though I would recommend asking him about his ideas and methodology.” 

You bristle before you sigh and slouch dejectedly, resting your chin on your hand. 

“He doesn’t talk about that stuff with me, Alfred.” 

“He doesn’t like for you to worry.” 

“I worry whether he tells me or not. Not knowing just makes me worry more.” 

“Then perhaps that’s something you ought to tell him.” 

You glance up at him warily, and some of your nerves ease as he gives you a warm smile. 

“Now,” He straightens, clapping his hands together and looking around the kitchen. “Despite the hour, Master Wayne is tucking into his breakfast. Shall I get something together for your lunch?” 

You consider for a moment, eyes darting down the hall before you stand, shaking your head. 

“Let’s put a pin in that. I think I’m just gonna…Go steal some of Bruce’s toast.” 

Alfred smiles knowingly, giving you a wink before you turn fully from him and head down the hall. 

-- 

The blackout curtains have been raised just enough to let a little bit of light into the room, but it’s still quite dim. You can see the empty smoothie glass on the bedside table, and the plate of toast that Bruce has put on the wide headboard behind him. Bruce looks preciously rumpled, scrubbing his eyes as he sits up in bed. You can see a few light bruises on his bare chest and arms, but nothing too egregious. His eyes are still narrowed with sleep as he lowers his hands, and his hair looks as ruffled as a baby bird’s. He perks up as you come in, a sleepy smile pulling at his lips as you come closer. 

“Hey, baby,” He murmurs, opening his arms as you climb into bed beside him. 

“Sleep okay?” You ask, cuddling into his side. 

“Fine. I thought you were seeing Michelle for brunch.”

“Got moved to drinks this evening. She had a work thing come up.”

Bruce hums in understanding, tucking you close and pressing a kiss to your head. You bite your lip, grappling with how to bring up the conversation. 

“Late night?” You finally ask lightly. You're relieved when you don’t feel Bruce tense, or reel away. He just rubs his hand gently over your arm.

“Mhm.” 

“Later than usual?” 

“...About on par.” 

“Mm.” You eye the steady rise and fall of his chest for a few moments before you hedge: “Hope you don't mind my asking–” 

“It’s fine—” 

“—You’ve just seemed a little tied up lately.” You give Bruce a sly, teasing smile, and it widens to a grin when you see him fighting back his own smile. 

“Is that why you came in here?” He asks dryly.

“Of course not. I saw Alfred bringing you toast.” You straighten up, reaching over his shoulder, taking up a piece, and biting into it. Bruce chuckles, and you grin as he leans into you, nuzzling against your neck. You hum as you chew, your skin prickling at the feeling of his thickening stubble. 

“How’s it going, anyway?” You ask. 

“What do you mean?” 

“You have any leads?” 

Your stomach drops when you feel him go tense. He sighs softly, leaning away to get a better look at you. You reach back, setting the toast down and dusting crumbs from your fingers before you fold your hands in your lap, waiting patiently. After a few moments, you can’t help but wring your hands subtly as Bruce observes you, and then lowers his gaze to the sheets. 

“I’m not sure I want to discuss that with you,” He finally admits. You swallow thickly, fighting to keep from shifting and fidgeting with nerves. 

“Can I ask why not?” 

Bruce pushes a sigh out through his nose, giving a small shake of his head. 

“I can’t keep it out, huh,” He mutters. 

“Well…You did for a while. Didn’t go so well,” You remind him lightly. Bruce nods, scrubbing his hand over the back of his neck as he mutters, “I know.”

You tentatively reach out, resting your hand atop his. He turns his hand over, taking a gentle hold of yours. 

“I’m not asking you to make me a suit and teach me to fight, Bruce. I just want you to let me in.” 

His lips twitch with a smile as he reaches up, cupping your cheek and sweeping his thumb across your cheekbone. 

“I think…That her name is Pamela Isley. She’s a botanist.” 

“Why is she doing…what she’s doing?” 

“That’s what I still need to find out.” 

You nod, leaning in and pressing a kiss to his lips. 

“Thank you.” 

He hums, grasping your jaw and drawing you in for another long, warm kiss. 

“That’s never happening,” He adds as the kiss breaks. You frown, brow furrowing. 

“What do you mean?” 

“Making you a suit, teaching you to fight.” 

You pout, cocking your head to the side. 

“I ought to know how to at least throw a punch, right?” 

“We’ll see about that. It’s a slippery slope,” Bruce chuckles, patting your cheek before nodding over his shoulder. “Eat your toast.” 

Next Part

[darl-ingfics]

Sicktember Day 25: Summer Flu

Fandom: Seventeen

Sickie: Dino (flu)

Caregiver(s): Seventeen (mainly Seungkwan and Vernon, but also a handful of others)

Word Count: 1,715

“STOOOP!”

Chan jolted awake at the sudden shout, instantly moaning in pain. He touched his fingers to his forehead, body recoiling with achy pain from the sudden movement. He collapsed back onto one of his elbows, still massaging at his head as he desperately tried to find his bearings. The only thing Chan was fully aware of was that an incredibly loud noise had woken him (and something quite loud was still occurring just outside his bedroom door,) and that he was unbearably hot. 

And congested. No, sniffly. No, itchy. Shit…

“Huh’AHtuu! ITcshuu! HA’CHuu!”

Chan moaned again as he reached for the box of tissues on his nightstand with an all-too-familiar intimacy. He just barely registered the door of his room bursting open as he blew his nose, which prompted two more sneezes. 

“Oh shoot, yeah, we woke him.” That was Seokmin’s voice, whispered non-too-quietly. 

“No shit, Sherlock.” Jihoon that time. 

“This is the exact reason I told you all to stop fooling around.” Seungcheol. 

Chan finally looked up, squinting in the light of the doorway. He could see the three members he’d heard, as well as Soonyoung, Joshua, and Jeonghan. Great. A whole party. Just what he wanted right now.

“I’m right here,” Chan whined, sick of being talked about like an inanimate object. 

“Hi Channie.” Jeonghan waved gently. “How you feeling, love bug?”

Right. He had the flu. In August. That’s why he felt like absolute shit. Yippee. 

“Awful,” Chan rasped in reply. He followed that statement with a round of phlegmy coughs that even made him wince from how horrific they sounded. 

“Sorry for waking you.” Seokmin frowned apologetically. “Someone was being… cruel this morning.” He slowly turned to look at Hoshi. 

“Since when has offering a good morning hug been deemed ‘cruel?’” the dance leader shot back defensively. 

“Since you decided that said hug should also include tickling!” Seokmin replied. He was immediately shushed by Seungcheol, who had seen Chan wince at the volume of his retort. Seokmin’s hands covered his mouth in apology, and he mimed zipping his lips closed for good measure.  

“We’d hoped you would sleep through us all leaving for the day,” Seungcheol said with a sympathetic smile as he moved closer to the maknae. Chan frowned as the leader’s cold hand met his clammy forehead, as the sudden cool contact flipped his body’s switch from fever heat to chills. The younger man shivered, arms automatically wrapping around himself. Seungcheol watched the shift happen, and swiftly snagged a blanket from the end of Chan’s bed, draping it carefully around his youngest brother’s quivering frame. (Chan mentally sighed in relief that Seungcheol had chosen the blanket from the end of the bed, cause he hadn’t used that one yet, which meant this one wasn’t absolutely drenched in sweat. Small victories.)

“I wish I had,” Chan muttered, his voice so congested and husky and miserable that everyone in the room felt their heart break just a bit. 

“I’m sorry, honey,” Soonyoung said apologetically. “Kyeomie and I shouldn’t have been messing around. I’m so sorry we woke you.”

“I’d still be left out, though…” Soonyoung whined at Chan’s soft admission, dramatically falling against Seokmin’s shoulder. The vocalist melted too, unable to handle the sudden rush of guilt he felt. He had no real reason to feel guilty; it wasn’t his fault Chan was sick. But that didn’t make it easier to see their hard working maknae forced to stay behind. “Are you sure I can’t come to the studio? Even just to watch?” 

“Sorry, love, you know the rules: fever above 39.5 means no studio.” Seungcheol shook his head sadly. 

“And, no offense, babe, but you literally look contagious right now. Sound it too,” Soonyoung added. Chan’s pout intensified. Joshua elbowed Soonyoung’s side. “Ouch! What? It’s true! I said no offense.”

“Nah, I get it,” Chan replied, rubbing his hands through his hair. “But I hate it.’

“You know, only the performance unit has to leave early,” Jeonghan added from the doorway. “The rest of us can keep you company for a bit! We could even wash your bedding for you, if you want, love.” 

Chan shook his head. “You don’t have to…”

“What if we want to?”

Chan’s brow furrowed. “Hyung, you never want to do laundry.”

Jeonghan’s face fell into an unamused glare as the rest of the members in the room laughed. 

“Come on, Channie-bug. Let’s get you out of bed and into some fresh clothes.” Joshua extended his hands towards the youngest, and Chan obliged as if in a trance, allowing himself to be pulled to his feet. He tried not to feel too embarrassed as he saw Jeonghan and Seungcheol stripping his bed, tried not to cry as the soft, gentle hands of Joshua and Soonyoung guided him out of his current clothes and into new ones. Sure, he’d actually been the one taking his clothes off and on, but something about being cared for like this made him feel helpless. 

But he did as he was told, including being ushered out to the living room. Chan felt ridiculous as he shuffled towards the living room. He was wearing a long sleeve t-shirt, a hoodie, sweatpants, and Halloween fuzzy socks with a blanket thrown over his shoulders like a cape. In the hottest month of the year. And he was still shivering. How humiliating. 

With a huff of annoyance at the universe, Chan slumped onto the couch. He vaguely remembered Jihoon asking what he wanted to watch on TV, the producer turning on whatever program he’d suggested. He vaguely remembered Seokmin mentioning making tea. He vaguely remembered all of the members who had been in his room reappearing before him on the couch, saying things right out of the playbook for caring for a sick person. But none of it really stuck. Sure, Chan appreciated his members more than anything, and he’d be thanking them profusely for all of this in a few days time. But right now, when he was so miserable and forced to stay home from practicing with his best friends in the whole world, he wanted nothing more than to be left alone to sulk and sweat the rest of this bug out. 

“H’etkCHee!” And sneeze. That too. 

As Chan sat back after being thrown forward three more sneezes caught in his hands, he felt something light fall into his lap, and opened his eyes to a new box of tissues and a Hansol. 

“Bless you,” the older man cooed, folding smoothly onto the couch next to him, one ;eg tucked underneath him.

“What are you doing here?” Chan asked, pressing a bundle of tissues to his nose. 

Hansol shrugged, completely unfazed by his friend’s ill temper. “Making sure you don’t drown in your own snot?”

“Gross.”

“You’re gross.” Chan kicked Hansol’s knee, prompting the rapper to laugh. “No really. I haven’t properly seen you in two days. I wanted to just exist with you for a bit.”

“Don’t you have practice?”

“Well, Nonie and I don’t have to leave for another hour or so.” Seungkwan checked his watch just to make sure as he fell into the seat to Chan’s right. He held a mug of the tea Seokmin had mentioned earlier, set the steaming beverage on the coffee table for the moment. “We thought we’d chill with you, if you’re okay with that.” 

“Sure, if you’re not worried about catching this.”

“Pretty sure that ship has sailed,” Hansol replied. “I’m personally not too worried about it.” Seungkwan nodded his agreement. “We can mask up if that’ll make you feel better, though?” Chan bit his lip, ultimately shook his head. Hansol smirked. “Too touch starved to let us leave, huh?”

“Don’t make fun of meeee,” Chan whined, burrowing into Seungkwan’s side, much to the amusement of his friends.

“Hey, Dino!” The trio looked up, (Chan extracting himself from Seungkwan), to see Junhei in the doorway, miming a throwing motion, a blister pack of pills in his hand. Chan held up his hands, and Jun tossed the packet to him, aim effortlessly accurate as Chan caught the medicine between his palms. 

“Thanks, hyung,” Chan replied. 

Jun blew him a kiss. “Feel better, bud.” Minghao’s head appeared from behind Jun’s shoulder, a sympathetic smile stretching on his lips as he waved. The faint sound of their manager yelling from outside had both of them running out the door. 

As soon as the door slammed behind them, Chan’s whole body collapsed inward in disappointment. Hansol chuckled. “Pouting isn’t going to fix anything, Chan-ah.”

“This is just unfair.” Chan hated that he was whining, but was too tired to stop his mouth. “I just wanna go to dance.”

“I know, hon, but you have to let your body rest.” Seungkwan’s fingers pet Chan’s hair soothingly. 

“This is all Jeonghan’s fault! If he hadn’t locked the door during the last GOSE episode…”

“Oh, trust me, he knows,” Seungkwan said, Hansol nodding along enthusiastically. “He had no idea you weren’t feeling well before that whole incident, so when he found out that he’d locked you in the rain and then made you sit in the A/C for all those hours? It wasn’t pretty, let me tell you.”

“But Wonwoo and Seokmin were outside with me! Why aren’t they sick? Why just me?”

“Well, again, you told us you were feeling off before the rain thing,” Seungkwan pointed out. 

Chan shrugged. “So? Wonwoo-hyung’s immune system is shit. He should be suffering with me.” 

“True as that may be, the honest answer is that life isn’t fair.” Hansol lolled his head to the side, staring directly at Chan. “And I know that’s not what you want to hear right now.” The younger man whined in reply, falling forward so his face smushed against Hansol’s chest. The rapper laughed, patting Chan’s back affectionately. “You’re so cute!”

“Stop saying I’m cute. I’m so fucking gross right now. You said if yourself.” 

“Chan-ah! Language!” Seungkwan chided, his eyes teasing. Chan lifted his head just enough to stick his tongue out at Seungkwan before melting back into Hansol’s embrace. Seungkwan and Hansol shared a look of adoration over Chan’s head. Yeah, this was exactly how they wanted to spend their next hour.