#while the great gatsby looks to be like.... fun but maybe not what i personally want? | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

i-did-not-mean-to · 3 years ago

Note

Hi hi 👋🏻 so for the February writer event — any chance you may possibly do a prompt where Fili or Kili coming up with a perfect proposal that is 1920s theme full of glitz and glamour and pearls and whatnots because his fiancé just watched the great gatsby and kindda obsessed with it? 😂 just thought it maybe fun heheh

Hello hello...

I am so sorry, but I know nearly nothing about that period :(

I've tried as well as I could <3

Proposal

Words: 1k

“Kí,” Fíli grimaced, “this is not what your beloved had in mind.”

Fíli loved his brother; on some days, he was almost convinced that it was himand not the magnetic field of the rock they were on that kept him on the ground, but he was also convinced that someone – and he didn’t exempt himself from suspicion – must have dropped Kí when he had been but an infant.

“Maybe not, but I look glorious, do I not, Fí?”

And there they were, those twinkling stars that came with their own velvety firmament, those eyes that had led him to hell and back again, those irresistible lights that guided his every step, staring at him pleadingly.

“You are the prettiest,” Fíli sighed obediently and set the hot iron rod aside with which he had been transforming the thicket of his brother’s hair into neat curls.

“We would have made amazing sisters as well, would we not?” Kíli took a sidestep and whirled in front of the mirror in his Durin-blue flapper dress while Fíli tried to right his headband.

He thanked the Gods for the fact that neither he nor Kí were women because it would have driven their mother insane trying to get them to behave; at least, she could huff that boys tended to be a little wild whenever they got into trouble.

He had done well, Fíli had to admit, the whole room looked like a scene right out of ‘The Great Gatsby’ – from the big brass band to the weirdly shallow champagne glasses – and he was sure that Kí’s intended would love it.

Apparently, they had fallen in love with the roaring 20’s and their raging love of life; post-war enthusiasm being something Kíli would identify with as well, Fíli could easily imagine how the whole glitz and glamour would appeal to people as young and voraciously alive as this couple was.

As his brother and his best friend, Fí also knew about the beautiful diamond ring tucked away in Kí’s brassiere. His little brother was a romantic at heart and Fíli could not imagine anyone more deserving of that overabundant enthusiasm than the person about to walk through those doors.

Kí had found happiness – which was really all Fíli had ever wanted – and he was about to be married if everything went the way it was planned, hoped, and prayed for.

Ludicrous as he looked, he was still the same kid who accepted scraped knees and bruises as big as plates in pursuit of his wildest fantasies. Fíli remembered that winter when he had been taken ill so well still; Kí had mounted a whole production of Thorin’s outburst at dinner with costumes and props, every single role played by himself, and – to this day – Fí was convinced that his recovery was at least partially due to the loving care of his younger brother.

You walked in, dressed in the strange suit – vaguely reminiscent of the 20’s – someone had left on your bed, together with an invitation on thick, embossed paper.

The first thing you saw upon entering the room was Fíli, dressed like a Mafia boss, leaning against a dais draped in shiny, crinkly satin.

“Fí? What is going on?” you asked, confused by the décor and the presence of all of your closest friends.

“Ask��them,” Fíli laughed and pointed at his brother, your beloved, who practically floated over to you.

He was wearing a beautiful dress, the colours of his house proudly on display, and his mother’s best pearls were glowing in the warm, orange light around his graceful neck.

“Hello love,” he greeted you with a soft smile, “how do you like it?”

“What are we celebrating love?” you asked suspiciously because – even though it was not impossible – you didn’t believe that Kíli would go to such lengths for a random party.

“Hush,” his face scrunched into an adorable grimace of embarrassment; he had evidently not anticipated that very obvious question and now, he didn’t know how to deflect.

“You look ravishing, darling,” you drawled and slid your hand under the soft curls that had been brushed to one side of his head.

“Fí did my hair,” Kíli explained proudly, and you threw a surprised glance at the other man; you’d have never expected him to be an accomplished hairdresser, or for Kíli to sit still long enough for someone to even be able to curl his hair.

“I thought you liked the 20’s, so…” he mumbled, deflating a little bit, so you quickly nodded.

“I love them,” you cried out, “absolutely adore them. Is this for me? Oh, you’re the best!”

You slung your arms around him, grinning as the warm pearls dug into the skin laid bare by the open top buttons of your silk shirt, and kissed him gently while taking care not to smudge his lipstick.

Something shifted and you felt Fíli move away like the ocean withdrawing just before a tsunami.

“Kí?” Your eyes automatically flew to the person you trusted most in this world; your partner, your lover, your best friend, and his warm, steady gaze calmed the rising tide of nervousness roiling in the pit of your stomach.

Suddenly, very mellow jazz notes resounded in the background, but your eyes were glued to Kíli’s face that shone with joyous anticipation; you knew the mien well and had come to dread and love it in equal measures.

“Because you find me ravishing in a ridiculous dress,” he started, squirming uncomfortably for a moment and wondering under his breath how women even moved in those garments, and then dropped onto one knee, “and because you are the best sport about almost everything.”

Your windpipe constricted. Was this what you thought it was?

“And – obviously – because I love you more than anything in this world, more than Thorin loves the Arkenstone, more than Bombur loves food, more than Fíli loves knives…I wanted to ask you if you would do me the honour of dancing through another few decades or even centuries with me?”

In your mind, you imagined Kí in the grungy, torn vests of the golden age of Rock’n’roll, the neon athletic wear of the 80’s and the plastic jackets of the 90’s, and it elated you beyond imagination or logic.

“Under one condition,” you grinned. “Anything you want, my darling,” Kíli gave you his most radiant smile, hope and sheer love shining as bright as beacons in his whole expression, “anything!”

“You’ll let me set down the dress-code for the wedding,” you laughed and – before you could tell him that it was a joke and that you’d marry him dressed as snowmen or elves or whatever caught his fancy – his arms were around you and his lips sealed yours passionately.

“I really hope it’s not waterproof,” Fíli whispered somewhere off to the side.

You didn’t care, not about the lipstick, not about the dress-code, not about the venue…as long as this marvellous, wondrous, ridiculous creature breathing life into your heart and soul was by your side, there was nothing he could not turn into a hoot, and you would never have anything less than a picture-perfect wedding.

#ask #prompt #february challenge #fluff #and such things #dear friend #IDNMT answers #random things #lol #fotfics

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olderthannetfic · 3 years ago

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Death of a Salesman anon here

Fucking THANK you for validating me about what a bastard willy loman was. I wish I could say all of that to my english teacher without her taking it as personal sleight

but I also feel like I should clarify. we did have an opt out system. they just didn't let us use it. basically for that assignment what was actually supposed to happen was that students (A level english lit students) could pick literally ANY two books they wanted and compare themes in them for their grade. Except my school was like no youre gonna compare the great gatsby(which i love) and DOAS (which i hate) because the teachers couldnt afford for students to read books they weren't familiar with and then get a low grade from an outside invigilator and make the school look bad. which fair enough but it still makes me mad how I suffered with that play for 6 months when I legit didn't have to. the other section of students got to do cloud atlas and atonement! i would have killed for that!!!

and while we did watch the movie for the play it was overall such an unrelatable story. and for a class of 17/18 year olds a little dry.

sigh. maybe this is more about standardized testing and students getting good grades than it is about creating interest in literature.

also Im very happy and pleasantly surprised that you liked DoaS as a kid. dont hear that often!

But that's the point. Aaaaaaaah!

(Your English teacher was a dumbass.)

My school used to have this week where we did trips or random fun classes (we could pick from a selection), and I went up to Ashland, OR a few times. It was one of the plays they were putting on once. I feel like I've seen it on stage another time, but I can't recall exactly when.

With good actors who really play up the toxic dynamic where Willy is like Happy but wants to be Biff (and/or Willy's older brother) and thus has fucked over both his kids and himself, it's a good play. It does probably help that Willy doesn't remind me of any family members though.

I find it extremely dry on the page, and 1940s wangst about the American Dream only speaks to me if it's film noir and cynical as fuck. But if you're 3 feet from the stage and great actors are wringing emotion out of it, it isn't dry at all. I don't think this particular one would work nearly so well on screen.

This does sound like the usual story of standardized testing ruining education. It sucks. What the teachers should have done is read like 4-6 books and told you guys to pick two or told you to pick between 3 possible pairs. I'm sure they could have found something besides just DOAS and TGG that talks about the American Dream. It's not exactly a rare topic in American literature. Heh.

I remember the 6 months issue well too. Even a book one loathes is probably okay if it's a couple of weeks of class. Nobody needs to spend and entire semester on the same work though. That, to me, smacks of forcing kids to read books that are too hard for them still or just crappy teaching.

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felswritingfire · 4 years ago

Text

Relationship Headcanons (SFW)

Kaioh Retsu:

I'd like to start this off that he'd be really picky with his partner. Like, super picky not because he means to- it's just diffcult for him to be genuinely attracted to someone enough to pursue a relationship with them.

Looks aren't all that important to him, but personality is an extremely important aspect. He prefers people that are a tad more outgoing, but knows when to reign in their excitableness- that being said he also really likes shyer people as well; he thinks that they're very cute (what I'm getting at is that I high-key headcanon him as Pansexual-)

Before he got with you, he made sure that you understood his fighting career and how dangerous it could be. He'd leave it up to you if you'd like to pursue a relationship after he tells you, but he'll respect your decision if you say no. But he will be e l a t e d if you say yes

Away from that, though, when he does find a partner that he wishes to persue a relationship with- he is super, super sweet!

He's an extremely considerate and understanding partner and just really wants to prioratize you're comfort

If you want a more laid back partner, he is your man- there's barely any arguements in the relationship, and if there is anything bothering you and/or him, he'll bring it up in a conversation so you guys can talk about it

It takes him a bit to be completely open to physical affection, even when he does get used to it, he's still a soft maybe on PDA; he won't hesitate to hold your hand tho. He loves holding your hand. LOVES IT.

The first time he held your hand though, it was about 1 1/2 months into the relationship (no one else knew about your relationship prior to this), and Katsumi, Katou and Doppo almost shit themselves because "oH MY GOD, RETSU'S GOT A GIRLFRIEND/BOYFRIEND/SIGNIFICANT OTHER! RETSU'S GOT A GIRLFRIEND/BOYFRIEND/SIGNIFICANT OTHER! RETSU'S GOT A GIRLFRIE-/BOYFRIE-/SIGNIFICA-" (and yes, I have a feeling these three have just enough dumbass bastard vibes enough to chant this)

Retsu was red for a week because these guys are (lovable) assholes. And Katou gets socked in the face because he just straight up went: "So, you bend them over ye-" and then he got a broken nose

On a different note, he's really touchy-feely in private

HE LOVES COOKING FOR YOU

And if you can cook- then, baby, it's partner cooking

You are 10/10 meeting his master, he's also excited when you guys get along

You also end up becoming well acquainted with the others (Katsumi, Doppo, Baki, Etc.) If you weren't already. And, boy, do you end up with some life long friends from that (and good training partners if you fight!).

Even if you do fight, he's protective of you. He'd try to sheild you from anything- even Yujiro if you, God forbid, caught his attention (this could be from just being a pretty face that appeals to him or a SUPER strong fighter that he wants to be his pray). This man is very ride or die.

If you're with him for the Convict Arc, and you are a skilled fighter, be prepared for the fact that he almost shit himself if one of them attacks you. It's their funeral if they end up hurting you- no matter how bad- they're dead.

Now you manage to fuck one of their shits up? He is both simultaneously worried about you, proud of you and being like: Oh shit that's hot-

Retsu doesn't get jealous. He gets mad if someone is trying to come onto you and making you uncomfortable and will not hesitate to get in their face. But not jealous. He's a man who is every comfortable with himself and the relationship. He wouldn't have started dating you if he had even the slightest inkling that you were going to cheat on him.

No matter how tall or short his partner is, he likes to rest his face on their chest.

Jack Hanma:

You two, MOST LIKELY, met a Restaurant- like, maybe you got stood up by some asshole and you just happen to notice this monster of a dude sitting at the table right next to you shoving an entire steak in his mouth, holy shit?????

When he catches you staring at him in bewilderment, he just gingerly dabs his mouth with his napkin and says, "What you've never see someone eat before?"

"Oh, I've seen that plenty of times- I've just never seen someone shove a whole steak into their mouth." You snark back.

He's honestly a little flustered on the inside, because yeah, you're right. But on the other hand, this (he thinks) is prime flirting time. So then you guys hit it off from there and by the end of the night you two have become friends and exchanged numbers.

If you have daddy issues too, prepare to bond over them, because he will not hesitate to bitch about his dad, because fuck that guy

Once you do get in a relationship, you realize Jack is a very quiet lover. He's calm and collected and he doesn't say much

But he listens and you know he does because he'll hum and grunt, stealing little glances at you if you're chattering away

He's really attached to you and is another extremely sweet partner

He's also really observant and will snag things that he knows you've been eyeing

Meeting his little brother is a must, you gotta meet Baki and be approved, which you most likely will be because Baki is a super sweet dude and he knows that his brother would pick an asshole to date

He dreads the day that his dad will meet you, because it'll happen inevitably, but he doesn't want you to happen

When it does happen I feel that it's a similar situation to Baki and Kozue, the only difference is is that Jack is hella pissed and on the verge of going ballistic, because what the fuck, dad???? ME AND MY S/O WERE HAVING A MOMENT, ASSHOLE-

He's a soft maybe on PDA, it reay depends on the time of day with him

When he is in a mood though, he'll hold your hand or wrap an arm around you to keep you close

He likes to lay his head in you lap at home and just stare up at you

You're the most beautiful thing he's ever seen

Likes to give you kisses on your cheek and forehead

He also likes to pick you up and carry you: you talking your friend? Sorry, baby, it's time to go. Shopping? I don't want to be here any more and I'm bored, let's go. My dad's here? TIME TO SKADDADLE, BABE.

He's huge, so I doubt your taller then him, but, hey, I might be wrong, but he really likes pulling you into him and holding you to his chest

He takes you out on dates to fancy resturaunts

He has some insecurities from whenever he was young, so when he gets jealous he gets HEATED

Like he is ready to kill a man, pls do not push his buttons when he's like this, just take him out of the situation and shower him in love snd affection because he worries he's not good enough

Please smooch him. He's sweet

If you're a fighter, he'll spar with you, but very gently, which may or may not piss you off tbh

But he means well

Absolutly head over heels for you

Hector Doyle:

Ok, I want to say, Doyle is a very tricky man who loves his teasing.

It'd be pretty "obvious", from his stand point, if he had a thing for you and wanted to pursue you. To you and everyone around you though, he just kinda comes off as,,,,a creepy dude???

Like, this poor guy has the shittiest time with... Personal interactions, unless it's fighting or social situations where he has a "word template" to go off of. He's just a real awkward dude and he kinda, low-key, has no tact sometimes; like when he just stares at you from across that Café you like to go to like some sort of freaky stalker guy planning to kill you. It doesn't help that you two bump into each other a lot and he just blurts out "You're hair looks really soft" BUT YOU TWO DON'T REALLY KNOW EACH OTHER AND WHY IS THIS DUDE TALKING ABOUT TOUCHING YOUR HAIR??????

When you two do, somehow, finally manage to talk to one another, he explains all the freaky stares and comments and he's like obviously I was flirting? Isn't that how it's done?

No Doyle. That is not how it's done.

Once you two manage to establish a relationship, it's kinda up to you to make a lot of the first moves again, Doyle is very ignorant to how social interaction works, this applies to relationship etiquette as well. That being said though, he has some sort of knowledge about how relationships work from books and shows, that also being said, his version of relationships is probably outdated because of the type of books and shows he watches/reads (Pride and Prejudice, The Great Gatsby, The Picture of Dorian Grey, etc.)

You gotta be prepared to put in the work to reap the rewards in this relationship-which are a lot actually!

For one thing, he is an extremely loyal partner and a really good listener (this not pertaining to the end of season 3, you know?) And he surprisingly has really good advice to offer

And! Once he figures out flirting, he's really good at it! He end up flustering you a lot, so be ready for that.

He's an unintentional hard yes on PDA. He just doesn't care. Your his and he's yours- he can smooch you when he wants. BUT, he is still really weary of this since he is a convict and he doesn't want you to be used against him. Or get hurt because of him. But he does end up touching you in whatever ways he can to be close to you: so, a slight bump of the hands her; maybe if you two are in a crowded enough bar, his hand caressing your lower back or resting in your back pocket; feet resting on top of one another under the table in the very back of that Café where no one can see you two-

At home it's a completely different situation- he likes to grab your hips and press you against the wall and just kiss the ever loving F U C K out of you; his hands will wonder and this usually leads to some fun times, but sometimes it just ends in some cute ass cuddles.

And might I just add on to the whole Convict part: he didn't tell you that he was a deathrow inmate until the fourth date. And he just brought it up casually, on the inside he was nervous as hell, but on the outside he's like, normal calm and collected Doyle (I mean, if you didn't already know).

Doyle gets jealous every once in a while, but it's still pretty rare, usually he just, kinda shooes them off. But, when those rare moments do occur, get ready for a blood bath because whoever thought it was smart enough to try and flirt with you is either getting a verbal beating of a life time or a physical one. And let me tell you, either one is crippling, one just means you can walk away in tears while the other you're most likely dead

After that mess Doyle'll drag your ass out of there and take you back to the apartment where he's even more touchy then usual.

He tries his absolute hardest to shield you away from the other convicts. He doesn't trust any of them and is so, so afraid one of them will do something to you.

Similarly with Retsu, even if you do fight he'll be protective of you, but he'll most likely be more relaxed about it if you can fight.

In that same vein, he'd totally spar with you. And if it gets heated that just means he manipulate it into some fun times ;)

Really like movie night as a date night. He's been exposed to so many mainstream shows/movies because of you, it's great.

Sikorsky:

THIS BITCH- THIS SUAVE BITCH-

He walked into wherever you were and pinpointed you, out everyone else in the room, as the hottest piece of ass in there. Waited for you to notice the heavy weight of a heated gaze on you, look up and make eye contact with him before he gives you this lazy smirk and saunters, easy, slow steps, with all the confidence of Apollo, over to you and leans against the wall with one arm and starts chatting you up. It doesn't matter if you're taller then him, you will feel small and a lil' intimidated/turned on.

I ain't gonna lie, you guys probably start out as a one night stand and became a friends with benefits after you fed him waffles in the morning after aforementioned one night stand and got to know each other, knowing Sikorsky- he just ends up coming to you every time he needs to blow off steam, which is, admittedly, a lot.

Sikorsky is a big ol' dumbass when it comes to the dreaded things called emotions, so he drops of the face of the Earth (at least to you) after he realizes how bad he's got it for you.

He pops up again after he had time to think about it and mull it over. And, would you look at that? He brought flowers and chocolate!

He's real shit at using his words to express himself, he's more of a actions type of guy, opposed to words, that doesn't mean can't be eloquently spoken, he just has a hard time when he's getting frustrated/experiancing heavy emotions; so gift giving is his go to as an apology!

He's actually a really observant lover due to this! He also remembers really important dates too!

He's really good with his hands so more often then not, he'll offer to give you a message after you had a long day at work, this sometimes leads to some sexy time; even if it doesn't though, his hands still feel amazing: they're rough and calluses, sure, but it sends such nice tingles down your back, you can't help but sigh.

He's really gentle when he holds your hands because he knows that his grip strength is off the wall and, he won't tell you, but he is terrified of hurting you.

Another hard yes on PDA but this time it's intentional. Sikorsky likes to prove his dominance over you, which may or may not lead to some arguements between you guys, and flaunt you relationship so he will openly shove his tongue down your throat to prove a point.

He has a tendency to grab your hips and press you flush against him, or even pull you onto his lap in resturaints, he'll whisper dirty things into your ear like this, so be prepared.

He likes to push your buttons once in a while because he thinks your hot when you're mad. He's a little shit and sometime has the mental fortitude of a 12 year old boy. It just comes with the territory of dating him, unfortunately

Sikorsky gets jealous easily and flies off the handle way too much, you'll have to really talk to him about that. But afterwards he'll drag you of there and, instead of making it to your guy's humble abode, he'll take you into the closest alleyway and start making out with you hard. It's almost too much, but it's kinda hot????

Anyway, Sikorsky may not seem like it, but he has your back. He wouldn't let anything happen to you without a fight. Even if you're a fighter.

SPEAKING OF IF YOU'RE A FIGHTER, SIKORSKY WILL FIND IT HOT AS F U C K. LIKE, TRY AND KICK HIS ASS, BABE, DO IIIIT

You will def. be his training partner, whomst he will smooch and smack your ass at any given opportunity

He likes to lay his head on your ads and straight up be like "don't fart, babe, or I'll slap your ass so hard that you won't be able to walk for a week" and you've never want to slap a man more in your life.

#aKDNDJD #I WAS GONNA ADD MORE CHARACTERS #BUT HOLY SHIT????#I apparently have a lot of headcanons welled up #in me #whoops #kaioh retsu #retsu #jack hanma #hector doyle #sikorsky #baki the grappler #baki headcanons #baki imagines #x reader #sfw

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ramblingthoughtsofayoungadult · 4 years ago

Text

Nev, Max, Help!-Nate Jacobs Oneshot

Requested: Yes

Warnings: aggressiveness and rudeness from Nate and a brief panic attack scene

A/N: The reader is gender neutral since the requester did not specify what they wanted and I did not want to disrespect the storyline from the show. Also, it’s a long one.

For once, Amy Winehouse’s low, melancholy voice did nothing to soothe my nerves as I typed what I was looking for in the designated box. “Love is a Losing Game” was definitely not the best song for the mood but I loved her voice so much; it was like a really messed up security blanket for me. My thumbs shook as I kept typing and quickly deleting my words.

Someone to have fun with.

No, that’ll bring every single creep to my profile.

Someone to watch Netflix with.

Ew, no, they won’t want to go anywhere or do anything.

Someone to discuss Maya Angelou with...

This could go one of two ways: attract a sensitive, nice person or the ultimate softboi who was really just an f-boy in a sensible cardigan.

Okay, Y/N, just add to it.

...and have adventures, great conversations, and watch the best movies.

That seemed broad enough and, potentially, weeded out all the weirdos. Patti Stanger would approve of this. I took such a deep breath that I could feel the oxygen in my feet as I pressed the green check mark. An adorable buffering sign appeared before being quickly replaced by a CONGRATULATIONS, Y/N/N, ON COMPLETING YOUR PROFILE.

The air came out of me slowly, like a balloon, and I tried to make myself relax as I swiped through different matches. One person was too short, the other too tall, another had way too many pictures with reptiles in his profile, and one’s bio simply read: DM and you’ll find out.

Serial killer much?

“That’s part of your problem, Y/N,” Jules had chastised me a few day prior.

“What do you mean by ‘part’?” I’d replied.

“Well, for one, you barely leave the house anymore unless I drag you out,” Jules argued.

“I’m busy,” I’d defended.

“Rewatching Breaking Bad for the eighth time does not count as being busy. Plus, you’re so picky.”

“Am not!”

“You said you’d only do DiCaprio in his Great Gatsby days,” Rue had added.

“Did you see him in that suit?”

Jules then shrugged. “All I’m saying is if you aren’t careful, you will end up all alone.”

“That’s not true, Y/N might get cats.”

That conversation had haunted me since and had driven me to making a dating profile after the required Saturday night family dinner. While my parents and brother were downstairs watching a movie, I was holed up in my room, cringing and regretting accepting any chat requests.

Half an hour on the app caused the images of various male genitalia to be burned into my mind. I would need my brain soaked in holy water for it to be erased. I huffed and kept scrolling, vainly hoping and wishing for a decent guy to pop up on my radar.

Maybe Jules and Rue were wrong. Maybe I had all the right in the world to be picky, I thought harshly to myself.

I dropped my phone on my nightstand and flopped against my pillows as Me and Mr. Jones began playing. I sighed and felt myself being lulled into the comforting abyss Amy created.

Ding!

I jumped out and glared at the source of the noise. Another chat request, another picture to ruin my young brain?

“Be positive, Y/N, this might be good,” I stated as I grabbed the phone.

Tyler wants to chat!

I frowned and opened up the app, only to be met with the most sculpted six-pack I had ever seen. My heart began banging against my chest and my thumbs fumbled for a moment to answer the chat request.

Whoosh.

My stomach dropped as I stared at my first chat to Tyler: Shg.ismtle

I’m. Going. To. Die. Alone.

I quickly typed: Please ignore that, I’m so sorry!

Seconds later, my phone dinged.

Tyler: Really? I thought you were trying to send me a secret code and I liked that we were that cool already.

This was not real, this could not be happening. Tyler had to be a bot, that was why he didn’t show his face in his profile. Bots were supposed to have a hard time recognizing and creating faces, right?

But, on the off chance Tyler was real, it would have been rude to leave the conversation so abruptly?

Y/N: Who knows? Maybe it was a secret code and I’m just testing you.

Tyler: Ok, let me guess what it means.

Tyler: Hi?

Y/N: Haha, you really thought I’d use such a simple code as a first message?

Tyler: It’s my bad for underestimating u. I should have known u were smarter since you read Maya Angelou.

Y/N: U a fan?

Tyler: “You can’t use up creativity. The more you use, the more you have.”

He knows Angelou? He could have Googled a quote though. Still, it’s a good quote to use if he had Googled it.

Y/N: Nice, but, doesn’t get u out of the guessing game.

As Tyler helplessly guessed wrong for several minutes, I couldn’t stop myself from smiling. I used to think online dating was a last resort or a breeding ground for predators. But, maybe there were decent people looking for something (or someone) meaningful after all.

Tyler: I give up, you’re really good.

Y/N: Thx. But, I can tell you what I meant to say.

Tyler: The suspense is srsly kiilling me.

Y/N: I meant 2 say hey.

Tyler: I guessed that!

Y/N: No, u guessed ‘hi’, there’s a difference.

Tyler: C’mon, barely.

For the rest of the night, Tyler and I chatted. He told me that he plays baseball at a school across town and he doesn’t like anyone around there. He liked John Mulaney stand-up, lemon bars, going to the gym, hanging out with his friends, and reading good books. He was an only child and his parents tended to spoil him. I told him about my friends and how I liked being on the swim team at my school as well as the different YouTubers and books I enjoyed. When I finally fell asleep, I dreamed of talking to him.

On Monday, Jules and Rue were hanging out outside the school as other people either headed to class or relaxed on the lawn. I could not stop my feet from bouncing as I walked up to them.

“...and that is why Sailor Mercury is the most underrated character of the whole show,” Jules affrimed.

Rue seemed halfway interested as her head nodded slowly underneath the hood of her burgundy hoodie. “Cool, all I asked was who’s your favorite but, cool.”

Jules rolled her eyes playfully and straightened up when she saw me. “Hey, Y/N, nice shirt.”

“Thanks.” I wore a sky blue tie dye shirt with ripped jeans and white Converse.

Rue leaned forward and squinted at me. “You’re not wearing black, something’s wrong.”

“Nothing’s wrong, she’s obviously been influenced by me!” Jules teased as she wrapped a slim arm around my shoulders.

“Yeah, you can only hang out with this literal rainbow human so long before she starts influencing your outfit choices.”

We started heading inside, which was really just Jules and me dragging Rue into the building.

“But I don’t wanna be here. It’s so stupid that I have to wait six more months before I can legally decide where I spend my time,” Rue muttered.

“It’s fine, you have us!” Jules insisted.

“Yup!” I agreed.

“Hey, Y/N, Rue, Jules!” Cassie greeted as she sidled up next to me.

We all greeted her.

“Have a good weekend?” Rue asked.

“Yeah, there was this great party that Nick Davis threw. I swear, everyone there was on acid.” Cassie stopped herself and bit her bottom lip. “Sorry---”

Rue shook her head. “It’s fine.”

“How were yours?” Cassie asked as we continued to our lockers.

“Fine,” Jules said.

Rue shrugged in response.

I opened my mouth to reply when my phone beeped and I wrestled it out of my pocket.

Tyler: Is it 2 late 4 a good morning text?

I smiled.

“You’re so cheesy,” I muttered under my breath.

“Who’s that?” Cassie asked, peeking over my shoulder.

I jumped and cradled my phone to my chest like it was my child. “No one.”

Jules pulled open her locker and cocked a bleached eyebrow. “‘No one’ does not cause huge smiles like that!” She jabbed a sparkly-manicured finger at me.

“Yeah, show us,” Rue said. “We are your friends.”

“It’s nothing,” I insisted as I weaved around them.

I pushed myself against my locker and managed to open it with my free hand. Rue was on one side of me and Cassie was on the other.

“Is it a boy?” Cassie sang.

“Or a girl?” Rue questioned.

“It’s none of your business,” I gritted out as I grabbed my necessary books.

As I shuffled the books in my arms, Jules came from behind and slipped my phone away from me. I gasped, whirled around, and watched as Rue tried to look at the phone while Cassie playfully blocked me.

“Guys, this is not cool! This is such a serious invasion of privacy,” I argued as I tried to move around Cassie.

“We’re besties, there’s no such thing as privacy!” Jules retorted.

“Wow, Y/N, these are so----” Jules cut Rue off.

“Adorable!” Jules squealed and turned to face me.

Cassie took the opportunity to glance at my phone and she smiled. “Aw, this Tyler guy sounds so sweet.”

I snatched my phone from Jules. “Well, now you know. Can we please go to class now?”

As the other girls grabbed their things from their lockers, I got out my phone to reply to Tyler.

Y/N: It’s never too late...until noon technically.

Somehow, I started wandering away from the girls until I ran into someone. I tried to jump away, but they grabbed me by the forearms.

“I am so sorry, I should have looked where I was going---” I stopped speaking when I recognized Nate’s direct gaze on me. I was pretty tall but I always felt like he could throw me into the lockers if he wanted to.

“Watch it, Y/N,” he muttered.

“Nate, let go of them,” Maddy chided, her hand resting against one of his arms.

She seemed to have the magic touch because he relaxed and I joined my friends. As the couple continued down the hallway, I couldn’t help but admire them. In a very messed up way, they worked. Kat had told me only a little about what Nate would do whenever Maddy upset him and I felt so bad for her, angry at him, and then conflicted. Nate just had to have that stereotypical amazing all-American look.

“You okay, Y/N?” Cassie asked.

“Yeah, is it weird that I can still feel his eyes on me even when he’s not looking?” I asked.

“No, his need for dominance permeates everyone’s sense of autonomy,” Rue assured.

“Nice,” Jules said.

“And scary accurate,” Cassie added.

Jule looped her arm with mine and steered us in the direction of our first classes. “Anyway, if he tries anything, I’m sure Tyler would gladly kick his butt for you.”

Throughout the day, Tyler and I chatted and I even had to get creative with responding. In English, I kept my head down during quiet reading time and made sure my phone was positioned just right in my lap. During geometry, I told Mrs. Packer that I was having some digestive issues and spent most of the class outside the bathroom, texting Tyler. At lunch, I could barely focus on my friends’ conversation.

“Hello, Earth to Y/N?” Lexi waved her hand in front of my face and I blinked.

“Sorry, I was----”

“Texting her boooyfriiiend,” Jules sang.

“He’s not my boyfriend, we’re just talking.” I started poking at my sandwich. “What did I miss?”

“Oh, nothing, just the fact that I nearly blew up the school during chem,” Cassie said.

“Magnesium chloride isn’t an explosive,” Lexi argued.

“Well, the tube overflowed and everyone was freaking out,” Cassie argued.

“Yeah, because magnesium chloride can have bad side effects,” Lexi continued.

“I wonder what would happen if the school exploded and we weren’t all here? Would they have to give us our diplomas?” I thought outloud.

“Ooh, and I could go to fashion school early!” Jules cheered.

“I’d be happy not coming here anymore,” Rue admitted.

It was quiet for a moment as we all ate but that quiet was broken when Maddy yelled.

“WHO ARE YOU TEXTING?”

I couldn’t help myself but look. Maddy was standing behind Nate, who was sitting with his teammates at the center table. Bebe and Kat flanked Maddy a little behind. Everyone stared at them. Nate’s jaw tightened.

“Maddy, calm down,” his relaxed, controlled voice nearly echoed in the silent cafeteria.

“DON’T TELL ME TO CALM DOWN! YOU’VE BEEN ON YOUR PHONE ALL DAY!” she snapped.

“Maddy---”

“ARE YOU TEXTING OTHER GIRLS?” Maddy shouted.

“Can we talk about this somewhere else?” Nate asked.

Maddy sighed. “Are you gonna let me see your phone?”

“Maddy, we need to talk.”

“Don’t talk to me again.”

Before Nate could respond, Maddy dumped the contents of her lunch tray over his head and threw the tray aside. Kat and Bebe followed her as she strutted out of the cafeteria amid the shocked gasps.

“I’m gonna go check on her,” Cassie whispered.

We all nodded and she quietly exited the room. As I stared at Nate, the supposed king of the school, drenched in soggy salad and fat-free milk, I wondered why he could never stay broken up with Maddy. Their relationship was not just toxic, it was volatile. Their breakups were always public and outrageous, but they always ended up back together. No one questioned it either. I never understood why people could continue to choose relationship they knew was bad over pursuing something new. I told Tyler as much that night.

Y/N: It’s like those dogs that get killed by electric fences because they keep walking into them.

Tyler: U have a good point, but, that couple’s relationship is more complicated than u think.

Y/N: Probably, but, it doesn’t look that way. They hurt each other a lot.

Tyler: How do u know?

Y/N: Bc I’ve seen it. I don’t mean 2 b judgy, but, I could never be in a relationship like that.

Tyler: Well, I don’t think anyone would b if they knew it would b bad.

Y/N: Good point. But, why would they get back together so much?

Tyler: Idk them, but, it could b bc it’s familiar and it’s what they know.

Y/N: Still, it’s messed up.

Tyler: Yeah, but I don’t wanna talk abt them anymore.

Y/N: K, what do u wanna talk abt?

A few seconds later, Tyler sent me a picture so graphically beautiful that I was convinced I passed out.

The next day, I showed Rue and Jules the picture during break time.

“Holy crap!” Jules took my phone and leaned into it for closer inspection.

“Tyler is packing,” Rue agreed.

Jules slid my phone back to me. “You haven’t replied to him?” “No, and he hasn’t talked to me at all today.”

“He’s probably expecting a reply that’s similar to what he sent,” Rue said.

My face warmed up. “I can’t send him nudes,” I hissed.

“Why not? It’s like the greeting cards of our generation,” Jules stated.

“Really? You’d send your grandparents a greeting card of your naked body?” I replied sarcastically.

“Relax, if you’re uncomfortable, we can help you,” Jules assured.

“We can?” Rue asked.

“We can.” Jules gave her a look and Rue relaxed.

“It’s still weird, but, I guess you guys can come over after school.”

“Sweet! Your mom still bakes cookies for you after school, right?” Jules asked.

I nodded.

“She might stop once she learns her darling favorite older child is sending nudes,” Rue snorted as she spoke.

I recoiled in my seat, taking a second to bask in the sun’s warmth. “Don’t remind me.”

After swim practice, once my teammates left the locker room, I eyed my naked form in the mirror. I had nothing to be ashamed of, really, thanks to all the swimming, but, I just felt weird being naked in front of people. There was something so vulnerable about it, like, being on display in a museum or lying on a cold surgery table. But, online dating was supposed to get me out of my comfort zone and I’d found someone who’d made me feel comfortable enough to do it. With this resolve, I changed into a hoodie and some sweatpants and left the school. It was dusk and I typically walked home after practice since it wasn’t far. Plus, I’d told Jules and Rue to just go to my house after school.

The late breeze rippled past me and I dug my hands into my pants’ pockets as I started walking towards the parking lot. There was barely anyone around, except stoners hotboxing their cars, some couples making out, and dance team members and football players getting out of practice.

I kept my head down as I maneuvered around the few cars and people around. It felt like someone could spot what I was about to do once I got home and it was nervewracking. All I had to do was get home, let Jules make me look even better, take these pictures, and never thinking of it again.

“Something on your mind, Y/N?” Nate called.

I froze and snapped my head up to look at him. He was leaning against his truck, looking like a model for Ford in only a tshirt and jeans. Ford should hire him.

“No, not really,” I said.

I started to side step the truck, eyeing the sidewalk that was only a few yards away as though it was a lifeline.

“Get in,” Nate ordered.

I paused and looked at him. “Excuse me?”

“I see you walking home all the time, let me do you a favor, one athlete to another.” Nate was about halfway in the driver’s seat of the car and all I could do was stare.

“We’ve...never really talked before,” I stated.

“We can talk during the drive.”

I stepped back and my eyes flittered around, like the best decision would hit me in the face. Then, I saw Maddy across the lot. She was standing with a couple of dance team girls, including Cassie. She stared me down as though daring me to do it. I glanced from her to Nate, who started the engine loudly.

I quickly climbed into the passenger’s seat and stared into Maddy’s reflection in the rearview mirror as he pulled out of the parking lot.

“How do you know where I live?” I asked.

“You forgot that I gave you a ride before?” Nate asked.

“When?”

“After Cassie’s sweet sixteen. You blacked out, your friends were panicking, and I offered to take you home. For some reason, you remembered your address,” Nate recalled.

“Oh, thanks?”

“Sure.”

We pulled up to my house a few minutes later, Lil Wayne bragging about his conquests filling the quiet. I hopped out of the truck and grabbed my bag.

“Thanks for the ride, this one, I mean, I owe you,” I said.

“Yeah, see you around, Y/N.”

I closed the door and headed inside.

“I’m home!” I called.

My mom poked her head out from the kitchen. “Y/N, how was school and practice?”

“Fine.”

“Was that Nate Jacobs outside?”

I hesitated.

How did she know what Nate’s truck looked like? “Yeah, he gave me a ride today.”

“Aw, isn’t that sweet? Rue and Jules are waiting for you in your room. They took the cookies with them.”

I nodded and went to my room. As soon as I walked in, they bombarded me with questions.

“Why did Nate give you a ride?” Rue asked.

“What did you guys talk about?” Jules inquired.

“Don’t you hate him?”

“He’s kind of a dick, but, unfortunately, super good looking.”

“Did Maddy see?”

“Do you think she’s gonna kill you?”

“Guys, I don’t know but I do know that if you do not take amazing pictures of me with no clothes on soon, I will delete my entire profile,” I interrupted.

They both nodded.

“But, we will ask for details later,” Jules insisted.

“Okay, but, please give me a cookie, I’ll need it to get through this.”

Rue extended the plate towards me and I bit into the melty goodness as Jules began doing my makeup. It was simple, only bringing out my best features. I made them both turn around as I undressed. Once I had, Jules encouraged me.

“You look amazing, I would be shocked if he didn’t jizz in his pants,” Jules said.

“Lower your voice, Y/B/N can only play Five Nights at Freddy’s so loud,” I hissed.

Jules held her hands up and Rue direct me to lay on the bed, my phone held up in front of her.

“Okay, look sexy,” Rue said.

I tried to smolder, but, by their expressions, I did not achieve it.

“No, like, pout your lips, like, you just heard that TheOdd1sOut is not uploading for a month,” Jules directed.

“And give the camera bedroom eyes, you know, as though it’s Tyler.”

“Okay.” After a few pictures, I slowly got the hang of it and even started posing a little naturally.

“Oh my gosh, Tyra is shook!” Jules cheered.

“Yeah, these are pretty good if I do say so myself.” Rue handed me my phone and I flipped through the pictures.

She was a talented photogrpaher and I joked that maybe she should go professional.

“Yeah, I’m sure I’d have a nice clientele.”

I laughed as I changed back into my hoodie and sweatpants. “Okay, help me pick one to send.”

Jules took my phone and she and Rue began scrolling.

“No, the lighting’s off in this one,” Jules muttered.

“No, it’s never off in any of these,” Rue argued.

“I’m not shading your talent, I’m just trying to find the best thing for Y/N to send Tyler.”

After a little more bickering, we all agreed on the picture and I sent it to Tyler.

“Should I follow it up with something?” I asked.

“Maybe say ‘Wrong person’? Guys want what other guys want,” Jules suggested.

“Or say ‘Sorry for the late reply’,” Rue added.

“I’ll go with Rue’s, sorry, Jules.”

Jules shrugged.

I sent everything off and my friends and I watched as Tyler typed a response.

Tyler: It was worth the wait ;).

We squealed so loud that my mom yelled for us to keep it down. We apologized as we descended into a fit of giggles. Through it all, I could not help but feel so bouncy and light all over. Was I...falling for this total stranger?

“What do you think he looks like?” Jules asked during lunch later that week.

I shrugged. “It’s different every day, if that makes sense.”

“I guess that’s the nice thing about interacting with someone who doesn’t show their face,” Jules thought outloud.

“How do you see him now?” Lexi asked.

I sighed. “Right now, I think he’s tall, six feet at least. He’s got a mix of blonde and brown hair like a surfer because it’s lightened from all the time he’s spent in the sun. He has green eyes, freckles, and he dresses well.”

“Sounds amazing,” Jules said as she rest her chin in her hand.

Rue nodded slowly. “You’re not nervous or anything?”

“No, this is so cheesy, but, I feel like I know him, you know? He’s so easy to talk to and has so much to say.”

“Y/N’s blushing,” Jules teased. “Do you love him?”

“I really, really, really, like him.”

“Do you think you’ll meet soon?” Lexi asked.

I shrugged. “I don’t know, neither of us has brought it up.”

“Well, it just matters that you’re comfortable, okay?” Rue said.

“Okay.”

If I was honest, I did not know if I wanted to meet Tyler. I knew that I liked him more than I liked anyone before, but, there was something strange about breaking this wall the internet provided us. It was freer to talk on the internet than it was in person. What if I said something stupid in front of him? What if he thought that I looked different in person? What if he looked different in person?

I managed to keep these thoughts at bay for the rest of the day until I got home. Post-dinner had been officially declared Talk to Tyler Time. None of my family knew what I was doing besides blasting Amy Winehouse in my room for about an hour. My laugh nearly overpowered her high note in “Best Friends, Right?”. I had to blink away my happy tears as I replied to him.

Y/N: That did not happen! Tyler: Yes it did! Do u want 2 c the scar????

Y/N: No, I think I’m good.

I wiped away my tears and settled under the covers. I wondered if his friends would agree that Tyler gets into some weird situations as well. Just as I started typing, Tyler beat me.

Tyler: I want 2 meet u.

The speed that I launched my phone away from me almost shocked me more than the text.

Almost.

My heartbeat thrummed in my ears. This was it, I knew I couldn’t avoid him much longer, but, I felt like I couldn’t move. All I could do was stare at my phone like it was the most offensive object in the world. Slowly, I regained mobility and grabbed my phone. I took a deep breath.

“Take a chance, Y/L/N,” I whispered.

Y/N: When and where?

“You’re meeting him tonight?” Jules squealed the next day.

I hushed her as people in the hallway paused to look at us. “Not so loud.” “But this is so exciting. Please let me help you decide what to wear,” Jules pleaded with a pout.

“Sure,” I said.

Jules hugged me. “This is going to be so fun. I won’t go crazy with glitter since this is the first time you’re meeting this guy.”

“Thanks?”

“Do your parents know?” Rue asked.

“No,” I replied as I slowly pulled away from Jules. “They’re coming Senior Night tonight, though. and I’m going to meet him at Mercy Park an hour before it ends.”

“Are you sure you even want to do this? I know that Jules and I tease you about your love life, but, this is risky,” Rue said.

“You weren’t saying that when you were helping me with those pictures the other day,” I shot back.

“That was different. You’re...you’re actually meeting him now and he could be a psychopath or a sociopath or, just, a creepy old guy who likes to look at teenagers!” Rue insisted.

“Rue, relax, everything’s going to be fine.”

“You don’t know that!” She turned on her heel and hurried into the bathroom with Jules and I on her tail.

When we entered, Rue was leaning against the wall, panting and staring up at the ceiling. Jules and I approached her slowly as the girls who were in the bathroom quickly filed out.

“Rue, slow down your breathing,” I said slowly.

“I...I can’t. You-you could get hurt or something and-and I would know about it an-and I-I couldn’t live with that!” Tears burst from her eyes as Rue began pacing and Jules and I were close but gave her room.

“Rue, Y/N is going to be okay, we both know what time she’ll be at the park. If anything happens, we’ll know the area she could be in,” Jules assured her.

Rue shook her head and stopped in her tracks. Then, she looked between us helplessly before bowing her head and sobbing. Jules and I carefully hugged her and let her cry.

“I’m sorry that I’m scared and I care about you and I don’t want you to get hurt,” Rue mumbled into my shirt.

“It’s okay, I appreciate it. I really want to meet Tyler, though, and, I promise I will let you know if something happens, okay?”

Rue nodded and sniffled.

It took Jules about an hour to make me look amazing. I had no idea my hair could be so fluffy and put together until she was done with it. She used eyeliner to make eyes look bigger and rounder and added sparkly lip gloss to make my lips look plumper. After she contoured and highlighted the best places she deemed that her work was done. My outfit, a fitted forest green long-sleeve shirt and fitted black pants with Jadons, was also approved by her.

“Tell me everything later!” she insisted.

Rue couldn’t join us since she had “prior commitments” but I texted her that I would let her know when I head to the park and when I leave. My nerves didn’t let me focus on the soccer game my parents insisted I joined them and my brother at. I couldn’t care less that the forward on one team got a yellow card or that the goalie on the other team made illegal blocks. I was practically buzzing with excitement and fear so much that I had to give my pretzel to Y/B/N. Finally, the third quarter arrived and I told my parents that I would meet them at home since I’d promised Lexi that I would help her with some homework.

Lexi wouldn’t mind being used for a lie this one time; it was an emergency.

I tried to practice some calming deep breaths as I walked over to the park. The dark night sky provided a little bit of comfort to my walk. I wondered how different Tyler would look from the picture in my mind. I wondered if he thought I would look any different. Maybe (hopefully) it wouldn’t matter to either of us.

Finally, I reached the park. It was empty, save for the oak trees scattered throughout the lush green scenery that seemed mysterious under the mooonlight. A few benches and wooden tables were around as well, but, Tyler and I had agreed to meet at the fountain which was further in the park. The breathing exercises had to have helped because I felt much more relaxed and I hoped that everything would go all right.

When I got to the fountain, there was a tall person facing it. All I could make out were dark clothes and broad shoulders. I took another deep breath and kept walking.

“This is a nice spot, you have good taste,” I commented.

“I could say the same for you.” I stopped in my tracks as Nate slowly turned to face me. His face was unreadable but his eyes stayed on me.

“What? Wh-where’s Tyler?” I asked, my voice already hoarse.

Nate glanced down at his shoes. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know how else to talk to you.”

I shook my head. “No.” My vision got blurry but I could tell that Nate was looking up at me now.

“Just let me explain,” he requested softly.

He took a step towards me and I took two steps back .

“I don’t wanna hear it. This....this is some sick joke to you or something?”

“No, never, Y/N, just listen to me.”

“I don’t want to!” The tears rolled down my cheeks and I swiped at them so hard that I thought I scratched myself. At least I could feel something because my heart felt numb. “You catfished me!”

“I just wanted to talk to you, I really do like you, Y/N. Tyler and I are the same, just different names,” Nate insisted, coming closer.

For some reason, I didn’t move. I didn’t know if it was from emotional exhaustion or stress, but, I let him approach me. I kept shaking my head.

“No,” I hiccuped.

“I wanted to meet you tonight because I was tired of lying. I want to figure this, us, out,” Nate said.

I sniffed. “Us?”

At that moment, I could actually see his face and Nate seemed so hopeful. There was a slight smile on his lips and his eyes seemed light for once. Maybe he wanted there to be an “us”. Maybe, despite all logic, he wanted to talk to me seriously and could not do it offline because of his reputation. Maybe, he was over the on-again-off-again situation with Maddy. Maybe, this was my chance, our chance.

I wiped my face again, mentally cringing at how upset Jules would be for my ruining her masterpiece.

“Yeah, us.” Nate stepped closer to me, gently wrapped his arms around my waist, and pulled me into his chest.

Gradually, my muscles relaxed and I relished in the feeling of his strong upper body and his warmth. Then, I began to feel pressure on my waist and gasped as it intensified.

“Nate, you’re...squeezing...too hard,” I rasped out.

And he started laughing, no, cackling. As he laughed, his grip tightened and I continued gasping and clawing at everything I could.

“Nate...stop!”

But he kept laughing and squeezing. When he finally released me, I looked up and saw nothing behind his eyes. Everything in me told me to run, but, I knew he could have easily caught up to me.

“I really thought you were smarter than that, Y/N. C’mon, you couldn’t honestly think that I would do all this to be with you,” he sneered.

“So why do it then?” I asked, my voice so small that I could have kicked myself for it.

Nate sighed and folded his arms. “Because you made it so easy and, to ask for a favor.”

“What? That makes no sense,” I argued. “I told you I owed you one that day you gave me a ride!”

“Yeah, well, I needed to make sure that you were available when I needed you.”

“Whatever, screw you,” I hissed as I pivoted on my heel.

“Too late for you, you’re already screwed.” Nate pulled out a folder from inside his jacket pocket. “Remember those special pictures you sent to Tyler? Well, they count as distribution of child pornography, which has a hefty fine and sentence.”

My mouth opened and closed several times before I faced him and responded. “But...but you held them, doesn’t that count towards possession? And, you’re extorting me!”

Nate glowered at me and stormed over. “Heresay, no solid evidence for your case. Plus, I’m a Jacobs, so, who are you kidding?”

I felt so sick to my stomach that I could have thrown up, fainted, or cried at that moment. This was not real, this could not be real.

“What do you want?” I asked.

“Like I said, just be available when I need you.”

“Fine.”

“Sorry, what was that?” He gripped my chin his hand and forced me to look up at him.

“Okay,” I said softly.

“Hmm.” His eyes scanned my face before he released me. “And if I ever hear you judging my relationship with Maddy again, these pictures are going to be the least of your concern.”

I nodded weakly, regretting every single thing I ever told him. Nate Jacobs was truly the devil. He wandered off into the night like a centurion leaving a victorious battle. It seemed like he always won.

I managed not to start crying until I was on the empty sidewalk. No, I sobbed so bad that my throat went dry.

How could I have been so stupid? I should have known it was him that day Maddy yelled at him for texting all day.

Stupid, stupid, stupid!

My sobs continued as I grabbed my phone and texted Rue.

Y/N: U were right.

#euphoria imagine #nate jacobs imagine

412 notes · View notes

kitkat1003 · 4 years ago

Text

Tower Tales

4: Turns out, they can get sick of each other

AO3 Link

@asilcorner YEET

Time passes and it’s maddening. Yakko keeps a calendar, but there’s no point in trying to know how long they’ve been trapped in here when they can’t even tell if they’re sleeping at night or day. They don’t know how long an hour is, a minute, month, a week, a day. Not by heart. So, for a while, they have to guess.

Yakko eventually makes a clock, sets a time, makes their day as normal as he can, starting the hour at a random time and suddenly dinnertime is 5:30pm instead of just sometime before bed, even though they can’t tell if it’s even close to 5:30pm outside. It doesn’t matter if it turns out they aren’t following the sun, the sun has never followed them, so fair’s fair. Besides, why stick with the world’s set of rules when those rules act like this is fine, that them being trapped is fine?

And hey, what’s a little madness? Who cares, right?

The tower becomes a lived-in space. The first two floors become living room areas, bedrooms, kitchen, bathroom. They never can be certain on the decor, and it changes daily, weekly, hourly, but that’s fine, because the idea of everything repeating, like the days have no difference between them makes Yakko want to curl into a ball and never straighten out.

The third floor is left mostly barren, because that’s where they practice their toon powers. Wakko has a penchant for bombs and offensive weapons, Yakko finds he can pull a pen out of anywhere and anything, and Dot has an affinity for her mallet, as well as fashion.

She likes to tailor, on occasion, and bribes Wakko to be her model for it by letting him perform songs via burping after dinner—she doesn’t mind the sound, it’s really the smell that makes her hate the whole thing—and Yakko starts being able to pull out random books from his hammerspace. They’re typically books he likes, thank god, but sometimes they’re just confusing. He likes Dr. Dolittle, though it is a bit silly, and the idea of talking animals being strange doesn’t make sense to him, being animal-like himself, but at the least it’s an interesting series with many books to go through. He likes Winnie the Pooh, too, and the Velveteen Rabbit is surprisingly sad, but at least it’s a change of pace in comparison to the happier children’s books he reads.

He ventures to more adult focused books, like The Great Gatsby, which is depressing but also an interesting commentary of the time, and the Murder of Roger Ackroyd by Agatha Christie. He actually reads through that one a couple times, to go back and find the clues Miss Christie left for the reader, and he finds it utterly fascinating. Who knew that someone could write like that? Leaving little pieces that only come together to make something when the last piece is found. It’s like a blank puzzle that turns on when you finish it.

Dot likes to read with him, pulling out a magazine about the daily fashion news or parties. He doesn’t know what Playboy is, but the moment it appears in her hands he rips it away and throws it in the fire. She evidently sees enough just from the cover, because she doesn’t argue.

He occasionally reads to Wakko and Dot. Typically before bed—he regrets ever reading the Velveteen Rabbit to them, because Wakko didn’t sleep for a few days after. He tries to get Wakko to read with him, but Wakko seems to find learning anything in a standardized way quite difficult, and all it took was one semi pointed comment from Dot about it to keep the boy from even trying, shame painting his cheeks the red of their nose. Yakko considers talking to Dot about it, but he doesn’t want to further embarrass Wakko by bringing it up, and it’s hard to be secretive in a small space.

So he lets it go, because they have plenty of time—too much, too much to ever fill, and sometimes all they can do is sit and hope for it to move faster because boredom makes them dull and he hears Dot cry into her pillow some nights because she’s not as quiet as she thinks she is and he sleeps so lightly he can barely call it rest—and continues to play and have fun and learn new things. He gets an atlas, one day, and memorizes the names of all the countries, hums out a melody, learns rhyme schemes.

And when he starts up a tune, they all fall in line. That’s the thing—while he and Dot learn the normal way, Wakko seems to be able to do just about anything when he stays out of his own head. Which is odd, because Wakko doesn’t talk too much, so he must be in his head plenty. Perhaps, then, the line between thinking and doing is so wide that when he tries to both everything gets jumbled. Because when they burst into song, Wakko dances and prances and creates lyrics like a pro, whether they’re singing about nothing at all to complex philosophical concepts, with a plethora of large words that if Wakko tried to read he would trip and stumble as they were slanted stairs. Occasionally, Yakko will ask if Wakko even knows what they’re singing about, only ever curious, and Wakko can talk his ear off about it all. Yet, when Yakko brings him into a classroom setting, Wakko’s face goes blank, and no comprehension of anything Yakko says ever shows.

Clearly he has a grasp on the English language, clearly he’s smart—Yakko could never think his brother stupid, because no stupid person could build a second floor without any plans, could follow jokes and make his own quips on occasion that send him and Dot into laughing fits, could pick the perfect moment for a physical joke in the middle of a conversation; no way that Wakko is anything close to stupid—but the moment it’s a classroom type setting all of that goes out the window. Is it the motivation? Is it the material? Is it him?

Yakko has to figure this out, but at least he doesn’t have to figure it out soon. He has time.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

They aren’t perfect, despite the look of them, despite how they’re drawn to be. They can’t be expected, forced together 24/7, to not get into petty squabbles. And they are petty. Dot hates sharing the bathroom with ‘gross boys,’ hates it when they play during dinner, Yakko hates it when they’re making too much noise during his reading times, when they complain too much, Wakko grumps about when they eat something he was supposedly saving, or throw something away he thinks he could eat (a.e. a banana peel, a watermelon rind, moldy bread, etc), or when they talk too softly or too fast, as if they don’t want him to be able to listen. It’s never anything too bad, and they get over it within the next few hours, but sometimes it builds.

For instance, Wakko is going stir crazy.

Dot and Yakko can tell. They don’t mind sitting still on occasion, given the right persuasion, but Wakko is a mile a minute of movement, everything twitching and tapping, tail swishing back and forth and wagging when he’s excited.

There’s only so many times one can run around a small space before they get bored. Only so many months one can spend exploring and doing the same things with little variation

“Ugh, there’s nothing to dooooooo,” Wakko whines, flopping onto the armrest of Dot’s chair. She and Yakko are reading the same book, they’re going to discuss it when they’re done. It’s a fun blend of their skills and likes-talking about reading.

“There’s plenty of things to do! Why don’t you read a book with us?” Dot suggests, and maybe it’s a little mean, but it’s more out of ignorance than cruelty. It’s been what feels like a few months since she saw Wakko struggle, how could she have known that he’d written off reading entirely.

“You could read to me,” Wakko actually perks up at his own suggestion, like a lightswitch flipping on. Yakko doesn’t mind it at all, and is about to volunteer when Dot raises a brow.

“Can’t you read yourself?” She shoots back, and Wakko deflates, before he crosses his arms, on the defensive.

“I don’t need to,” He says, and Doll rolls her eyes.

“If that was true, you wouldn’t want someone to read to you,” Like usual, her words are sharper than his, but she makes one mistake. “You can’t just refuse to learn forever. What are you going to do when you get into the real world?”

Dot is trying to hope. She trusts that, someday, they’ll escape. Doesn’t matter how long it takes, they’ll still escape, because she trusts their family, and she trusts their growing abilities.

But Wakko...well, he isn’t quite so positive, at the moment.

“We’re never going to the real world!” He shouts. “I know what forever means, I’m not that dumb, and that’s how long they’re keeping us here,” Dot is taken aback, but Wakko is a roll, frustrated and ashamed and angry, and Yakko is cut off by his next spitting sentence. “And the worst part of it is that I’m stuck here with a stuck-up jerk like you!”

“Wakko Warner!” Yakko stands, and he doesn’t typically raise his voice like this, not angry, but that was uncalled for, and Wakko—

Wakko flinches.

Yakko falters, Dot’s eyes are already teary, and Wakko dashes off, vanishes up to the second floor before anyone can stop him.

Yakko attends to the sibling that is close by, because Dot is upset and angry and hurt, so he soothes her tears.

“Why would he say that?” She asks, confused. “Did he mean it?”

“Of course not—he’s just not handling this as well as you are. You picked reading up way faster than he did. He’s been struggling with it, and with all...this,” he gestures to the tower. Dot sniffles. “You do have a habit of saying things that make you sound high and mighty, your majesty,” He adds, with a grin, and Dot giggles a little, wiping her eyes.

“Sorry,” She says, and he shrugs.

“Not me who needs an apology, sis, but I appreciate it anyway. Let’s give Wakko some time to calm down, kay?” He picks her up and smiles. “I don’t know what chapter you got to, but I have some thoughts on the 5th one.”

She grins back at him.

One down, one to go.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

They find Wakko curled up in a ball on the couch upstairs, face hidden from the world and back facing the outside. Dot comes over quietly, soft steps toward the tense coiled spring that is her brother.

“Didn’t mean it,” He sounds very...defeated. “I’m sorry, Dot,” He sniffles, and she still can’t see his face.

“It’s okay,” she responds, because staying mad never helped anyone anyway. “I shouldn’t have been so mean about it. I’m sorry. I didn’t know it was so hard.”

“It is,” Wakko finally turns to face her, and his face is stained with tears. “I can’t get it to make sense in my head—and you got it easy. Maybe I am stupid,” He turns to face her, sitting up and curling his knees to his chest, and the last phrase is muffled by his knees.

“You’re not! You’re better at building things than I could ever be! Words can be hard, though. It took me a bit to get it.”

He looks over at her, shyly, as if searching her face for any sign of a joke. She remains resolute, and sincere. “Really?”

“Yeah! Hey, maybe I could try and teach you. Yakko’s a real lazy teacher,” She jokes, and Yakko takes that as his cue to walk over.

“I take offense to that,” He responds without heat, before looking over to Wakko, who shrinks under his gaze. The action makes Yakko want to disappear—how could he make his own brother scared of him?

“Sorry for scaring you, Wakko,” He tells him, hoping Wakko accepts the apology.

“It wasn’t you-it was just,” Wakko is quick to reassure Yakko that he wasn’t scared of him, because he wasn’t, and knows that Yakko would never act in a way that should make Wakko afraid of him, he just was scared because “You’re tall,” He finally finds the words, and Yakko blinks. “The execs who didn’t like us, they were tall, and they shouted a lot, and I was thinking about when we were out and I was already upset and it just happened, but you’re not scary,” He gives Yakko a shaky grin. “How could someone even be scared of you?”

“Hey,” Yakko takes mock offense, but a weight lifts off of his shoulders.

He shuffles over, and takes the hat off of Wakko’s head to ruffle his hair. Wakko reaches for it with sweater paws, standing on the couch to grab his hat back, and the tense air starts to dissipate.

Wakko yawns.

“I’m tired,” he mumbles, rubbing at his eyes. Yakko settles down on the couch, between him and Dot, and lifts Wakko into his lap.

“Guess it’s naptime, then,” He leans back, hands behind his head. “Dot?”

She’s already curling up against him.

Eventually, Yakko manages to get horizontal, Wakko and Dot curled up together on top of him. Slowly, he lets out a sigh of relief and sleeps.

The next day, he finds Dot and Wakko at a new dining room table, both hunched over a piece of paper. Wakko looks very confused, and a little frustrated, but Dot goes over the same letter sounds over and over as if it were the first time, and that type of relentless explanation manages to get through the mental blocks Wakko sometimes has.

“So, the ‘c’ makes a cuh sound, ‘a’ makes an aay sound, so what’s that word?” She points.

“Ca-Catch?” Wakko tries, and Dot cheers, wrapping an arm around his shoulders.

“You did it!” She says, and Wakko brightens like the sun.

“Faboo!” He responds, and the exclamation is so startling that Dot starts laughing. Wakko joins in, and Yakko is chuckling to himself all the way to the kitchen.

Within two months, Wakko joins their book club. They make matching t-shirts.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Yakko loves his sibs, he really does. They’re basically the only reason he stuck around for so long. They need him.

But sometimes, he doesn’t want them.

Little siblings bicker and it gets real grating. He just wants one day, one, where he doesn’t have to deal with a stupid argument! Is that so much to ask

He feels like he never gets this petty over the small stuff. Aren’t there more pressing things to be upset about? He doesn’t expect his siblings to be friendly to each other all the time, but would it kill them to resolve their own issues? Especially when they’re as small as whose mallet is whose(they’re identical) or where a furniture piece should go(when it’s going to be moved within a week anyway, because they’re always changing the format of the tower). If Wakko’s hat is better than Dot’s flower. How the kitchen silverware should be organized, even. Yakko can’t see why it matters

He can’t even get peace now, trying to get through the book they’re in the middle of in their book club. Wakko and Dot had sped ahead one day when Yakko was making dinner, and now he’s trying to catch up, but he can’t because they’re having another shouting match. They’re hunched over a fashion magazine, trying to figure out what? What dress looks cuter? Wakko, apparently, picked the wrong one, and now Dot is upset, and now he’s upset because she’s upset at him, and it’s just so much.

Eventually he snaps.

“Alright, that’s it!” He shouts, and Wakko and Dot look up from their squabble-about what dress looks cuter, off all things. “I’m going upstairs, and you two deal with each other for a few hours, because I can’t.” He runs a hand down his face and sighs, grabbing his book and disappearing to the second floor, not even bothering to see their reaction.

And you see, you’d think he’d like the peace and quiet, but two hours in and his ears keep twitching, aching for the sound of silly conversation and laughter and pattering feet. Sure, they’re annoying, and they squabble over silly things, but Yakko is paranoid at heart because the background sounds of them messing around is somehow relaxing, because then at least he knows that they’re there, that they’re safe. Silence is uncertainty, silence means he’s alone, and he keeps subconsciously searching for their noise, to know that they are, and in turn he is, safe and there. He thinks he might be a little too used to them, because without the ambient noise he can’t focus.

Four hours later, and he comes back down, and is greeted to an armful of new books he definitely didn't make, and they don’t look published. They look more like...picture books?

“We made them for you!” Dot says.

“I did the pictures, and Dot wrote the stories,” Wakko adds.

Yakko’s heart is so full it feels like his ribs are cracking.

“What a couple of authors you are!” he laughs, and they follow him all the way back to his chair. He sets the books in a stack on his lap, picking up the first one and opening his mouth to read aloud as Dot and Wakko sit on the armrests of the couch, eagerly awaiting his narration and reaction.

Yakko thinks he got pretty lucky with his sibs, even with their petty arguments, smiling down at the pages and reading the books through.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Dot loves her brothers. She does.

But they’re gross.

Well, not gross, but certainly not clean. They make messes and forget to clean them up. And it’s not that bad, Dot doesn’t mind cleaning. Wakko builds them things, Yakko takes care of the meals, cleaning is just part of her chores in this whole situation.

It reaches a limit, and she hits it when she watches Yakko spill marinara sauce all over the ground and then do nothing about it. Wakko slips in it and the two just laugh it off, but the sauce splatters everywhere, and she has to clean that, and—

“Ugh!” She stomps her foot in frustration, and Yakko and Wakko turn to her, confused. “You two are disgusting! I have to clean this all up later, and-ugh!” She turns on her heel and heads upstairs. She slams the hatch door to the second floor shut, and Wakko and Yakko wince at the sound.

“Is the second floor specifically for upset people now, or is it just a really lazy plot device?” Yakko snarks, and Wakko blinks.

“Should we clean this up?”

“Yeah, probably.”

She comes down an hour later, because she skipped dinner and though she doesn’t have a food issue she’s used to eating with her siblings, and she walks into a sparkling clean kitchen.

“This is a once a year affair,” Yakko says, as she stands there shocked. “Maybe thrice if you pay us.”

“I ate a bar of soap,” Wakko says, and bubbles come out of his mouth.

“You two are ridiculous,” Dot says, and she can’t help the grin on her face.

She hugs them till she hears something crack. Probably Yakko’s back, with how tense her eldest brother is.

It’s halfway to filthy by the end of the week, but she can tell they’re trying, and that’s enough.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

So yeah, they get sick of each other. They have petty and not so petty squabbles, but no matter what they end up in the same place.

Curled up near each other, blankets pulled close so that the edges of the bed are barren. Yakko always talks in sleep, Wakko drools and kicks, Dot will shift from time to time and grab at air, or anything in grasping range, but they won’t wake up, because despite those annoyances, together they feel safe.

And that’s what family is for, isn’t it?

#animaniacs 2020 #animaniacs #kitkat1003 #yakko wakko and dot #yakko warner #wakko warner #dot warner

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words-for-holland · 4 years ago

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Christmas Admirers Teaser |T.H.

Pairing: Fratboy!Tom x Reader

Summary: Tom Holland and Y/N have never crossed each other’s paths in the 3 years of their college career. but can a silly letter change all that?

Loosely Inspired by Dash & Lily and every other cheesy Hallmark Christmas Rom-Com Movie out there.

A/N: This wont be a series but this story is going to be really long when it’s done but tbh not sure if Im really like how its coming...Ha...ha.. But I’ll still do a taglist for this when it’s completed so feel free to add yourself if you’d like.

Taglist

Wanna Play a Game?

All it took was one bright red letter and four words to intrigue the most beloved, foreign exchange student of New York University, Tom Holland. If his name sounds familiar to you, then you already know the answer to the question that just popped in your head. Yes, not only was Tom Holland a well renowned actor, he was also a student exploring the wonders of college along with his best friend Harrison. Some say he was only attending to prepare for a role, others say he did it to have his fun with sorority girls, and a very small percentage believed he was actually trying to get his degree in theater. Whatever the reason, college life suited him well, being the head of the Beta Gamma Sigma Fraternity, living the bachelors life with a new girl around his arm every week, but it was all the same...until he found that red letter sticking out of an abandoned shelf in the Potter’s Library.

He remembered it clearly, the day he found it. Tom had reluctantly arrived at the Library assuming his mates would be there to actually study for an exam they had this upcoming week. Lord knows if they didn’t pass this final with at least a C this semester, they would surely relive the nightmares with Professor Gonpu in the next. Yet to no surprise, none of them came and ditched last minute as the pool of messages started to flood his phone.

“Great.” Tom muttered to himself as he took a seat at the far right corner of the library. The area was empty, and as he slouched on the wooden chair and pushed it back, the boy hadn’t realize how close to the empty shelf he was. With a single thud, came a small red letter floating above and gently making its way down to his lap. The inviting words peaked his interest, and while he checked both front and back for a name, the letter should have been addressed to...there was none. He unfolded it and read it to himself.

Do you want a play a game?

You seem like the type of person that has nothing better to do, so let’s make it a little more interesting. I wont tell you who I am, but if I deem you worthy...I just might.

Still with me?

I’ll give you five clues to figure out this location. Everything you need is here in the Library. And...if you even think about using that phone, you might as well put this letter back where you found it. After all.. you’re in a library and it’s got all the information you need. Ready?

Tom looked at it puzzled by the words. “Do people actually do this shit?”, he thought to himself. He continued to read on, examining each clue and the 5 lines next to them.

1. You’ll find your first clue, deals with a tragic romance. He had all the money in the world but never ends up with the one he loves.

“Too easy.” Tom smiled to himself as he quickly looked for The Great Gatsby. He referenced the red letter seeing only 3 spaces for the first clue. “Jay” he whispered to himself, as he triumphantly wrote out the words.

2. Know what else is more shitty than dying and not having the love your life? Writing a depressing poem about the love your life dying. Or as Poe would imagine, a beautiful maiden by the sea.

He smirked at the line, knowing fully well the poem that the mysterious letter was referencing, and quickly headed to the poetry section. Tom scanned the row of books, until the black book with white lettering caught his eye. Flipping through the broken pages, he found exactly what he was looking for. “In this kingdom by the sea, but we loved with a love that was more than love, I and my Annabel Lee.” he muttered the lines, a smile slowly creeping up. Tom writes out the word “Lee” in the 3 lettered blank. “Tragic Romance, how typical.” he says to himself. Though his voice was laced with disinterest, it was Tom’s favorite poem, but he’d never tell anyone that.

It continued on this rhythm of deciphering clues and running around the Library like a chicken without a head to figure out what the letter wanted from Tom. He had been so focused that his plan to study for Gonpu’s final and meeting with the fraternity has completely flown out the window. As of now, Tom’s main priority was to find the answers to the letter’s puzzling challenge. Maybe, if he answered it, he would know who the mysterious writer was.

Then it happened. The last clue was solved, as Tom quickly wrote out the final word, examining his work and trying to make sense of what he found. There were no other instructions left on the letter which only made Tom more puzzled. It wasn’t a name. It wasn’t a thing. It was a place on campus. Jay Lee’s Coffee Lounge, the most serene coffee spot you’ll ever find in NYU. It offered all the essentials needed to focus and complete your work all with a side of great cold brew made in house. People say it’s NYU’s best kept secret, but really it’s because students will rarely go since it’s so out of the way.

He made it to the shop after thirty minutes, and stepped into the calm atmosphere. The smell of gingerbread lattes hit him once he opened the doors, and soft chatter between students filled the air. He looked around the area in hopes to find the person who wrote the letter. Perhaps they were waiting for him, but it was unlikely since Tom wasn’t even sure if the letter was written that same day. For all he knew, he could be wasting his time, and yet....it didnt feel like it. Almost as if he felt he was meant to be here.

“Mate, what are you doing here?!” Tom followed the robust British voice as he whipped his head to the counter. His best friend Harrison, dressed in a Jay Lee’s short sleeved shirt.

“Harrison? You...work here?” He asked voice filled with confusion. Not once did Harrison tell Tom about his side job. In fact it was almost offensive to think the blonde hair bloke would even it hide it from him.

“Yeah...I didn’t really tell anyone because well you know, it’s the last place people would expect a frat to be working in. Reputations and all...What about you? I didn’t think this place was your type of thing.” he asked.

“It’s not...” he paused for a moment, debating on whether to tell Harrison what he found. If it led Tom here, Harrison might know who wrote the letter. He hoped it was girl...God he really hoped it was. “Actually, I was at the library today waiting for you divs --”

“Oh yeah sorry mate.” Harrison looked at Tom apologetically.

“No, its fine really. But I found something interesting, and --”

“Tom, if it’s another blonde wannabe model, I --”

“Bloody hell, Harrison just listen to me. I..” Tom paused for a moment to quickly check his surroundings before pulling up the red paper. “I found this red letter. Made me go on bloody goose chase and led me here. You dont happen to know anything about this do you?”

Harrison took the letter and examined it thoroughly reading the lines word for word and the notes Tom made next to them. He was just as intrigued, but unfortunately shook his head, unsure of the answer to Tom’s question as well. “Sorry, Mate. I have no clue. Never seen anyone here writing out a red letter before.”

Tom held the letter, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Was this it? Did he really just waste a whole 3 hours in the library and 30 minutes worth of gas for nothing? “I just dont understand.” he muttered.

“Look if you really think the person that wrote this letter wanted you to be here, why don’t you just write a message in it and post it on the corkboard? Im working the entire week, so I’ll keep an eye on who grabs it and let you know.“

It didnt seem like a half bad plan, Tom nodded in agreement and grabbed a pen from his bag, writing his reply in the empty space, the mysterious writer was so kind enough to leave. He posted it on the corkboard, and turned back to his friend.

“Dont forget.” Tom pleaded.

“I wont mate.”

#tom holland #tom holland imagine #tom holland x reader #peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker imagine

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cosmictulips · 3 years ago

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So Books? Yea that's right. I read. lol

Anyway @tsundoku-reads asked me about what kind of books I read, ones that I enjoy... and just books! and honestly, I am very glad you asked because, I do love to read. one of my close friends comes to me a lot for reading advice because I have a very extensive book collection that is ever growing and changing lol.

so this will be quite long! so here's a warning for that! to keep this witch related and astrology related I'll start with those and then go from there. also! feel free to add me on goodreads. I've been reading more witch related books lately.

MOST OF THIS IS SUITED FOR BEGINNERS!

so lets begin.

Witch & Astrology books

Astrology :: using the wisdom of the stars in your everyday life :: Carole Taylor.

Llewellyns Complete Book of Astrology

The Only Astrology Book You'll Ever Need :: Joana Woolfolk

I started with the Last one here and sure enough. that's the only book I ever needed. I think last year and some years ago I bought the other two because I wanted to see what else is out there.

I'm highly skeptical of most witch books and astrology books. I'm not going to lie to you guys. so I found these three to be the only ones I ever actually needed. especially the last one. I bought it when i was like fourteen and i devoured it and that's literally how I learned how to read charts.

Anything by Shawn Robins

Anything by Scott Cunningham

the Modern Guide to Witchcraft :: Skye Alexander

The Modern Witchcraft Book of Tarot :: Skye Alexander

A Little Bit of Runes :: Cassandra Eason

A Modern Witchcraft Guide to Magickal Herbs :: Judy Nock

Mountain Conjure & Southern root Work :: Foxwood

The Green witch ... :: Arin Murphy- Hiscock

so I read Scott Cunninghams stuff when I was first getting into magic and witchcraft. as most of us do, we start off in Wicca. to me, like I said I'm highly skeptical, while I did like some things in his works, and I do refer to his work sometimes, I found myself going deeper into magic lol. these books I can attest to because they help me develop my craft, figure out whats good for me, what isn't, etc.

I also just like to learn. so a lot of this I don't use in my craft anymore, but I like having the knowledge as I go along my craft. I feel like I have to state I'm literally studying Cultural Anthroplogy in College and I focus heavily on different "witchcrafts" among other things. but yea, if you're looking for beginner books in magic and stuff, these helped me get through the door, and I still even use the Tarot Book.

I also personally know Shawn Robins and trust her with a lot of info.

If you want something more serious in terms of magic and stuff, I did just read uh

the Book of Enoch

The Devils Dozen thirteen craft rites :: Gemma Gary

Neither of really given me what i'm looking for. to be quite frank I don't think any book is going to give me what I am looking for. they are just things to help build my knowledge and my ever growing hunger for it.

so for the more fun books click below. otherwise, let me know your book recs! I am always looking out for good witchy books and i have a lot lined up to read this year.

5 books I think everyone should read in their life time in no order

The Book Thief :: Markus Zusak

The Great Gatsby :: F. Scott Fitzgerald

A Brief History of Time :: Stephen Hawking

A Little Princess // Anne of Green Gables // Little Women (all by different authors I know lol )

A Monster Calls :: Patrick Ness

Yea... I don't know if this gives a good insight to what I like to read. it's funny that not a single poetry book is listed on here.

I think the most controversial thing on here is probably the great gatsby. Maybe it's all that venus energy that both Scott and I give off and have but I feel everything that man writes.

number four has a three way tie because when I was little, these would be the books I read. there were a few others like Nancy Drew and Pippi Longstrockings but these were the three that really carried over with me into adulthood. I always felt so connected to the characters of each of those stories and everyone I think can. they gave me friends when I had none and made me feel normal. and even now when I read them as an adult, I do still feel connected to these books.

the last one on this list I'll talk about is Stephen Hawkings books. they are incredibly easy to understand and I never felt so connected to the cosmos as I did reading his books. and... yea. if you want to get into astronomy or understand the universe a bit better, read this.

Some other great books I think you should read in no particular order::

the Chronicles of Narnia. C.S. Lewis. :: Everyones always like Harry Potter! or Lord of the Rings! but NARNIA! Lewis was best friends with Tolkien. love them both dang it!

Literally every fairytale. I just re-read Peter Pan and even reading the biography of Barrie, the whole reason why the story exists is amazing.

The Lumberjanes! by Kitten Holy it's a fun graphic novel.

Over the Garden wall! :: Fun show and good comic

... I could probably list more but I'm going off the top of my head right now and like I don't have my whole library with me lmao. so yea, those are my top suggests for things. and if you want more book recs, let me know. or just follow me on good reads lol.

#witchcraft #witchbooks #books #just my booklist #I got some other books I gotta read too lmao #this would normally be a lot longer but Im being yelled at right now so #gotta stop

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ferret-not-microwave · 4 years ago

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Les Amis Modern AU: What They Wish Others Believed About Them (Part 4)

[I kind of wrote this in response to some general trends in characterising the Amis. There are some stereotypes which I'm not quite comfortable with.]

[So much delay. Sorry.]

Joly:

• Really, really wishes that people don't laugh at him for his anxiety issues. He is truly terrified of getting infected with some disease or the other, and even more terrified of spreading it to Joly and Chetta. It doesn't help that he is one of the most sincere students of the lot, and spends a lot of time reading medical journals, which feed into his panic. He feels safe wearing masks, using rubbing alcohol (or wearing gloves), and having a bag full of basic first aid supplies, and gets embarrassed if anyone judges him for it. Also, he doesn't like it if "concerned" people ask him whether he had a past history of debilitating disease or something, he doesn't want to discuss it at all, okay? -_-

• When Joly fusses about illness in the Musain, it is him letting his guard down. He has to actively rein in his anxiety to function in the hospital, and gets super exhausted from hiding it. His tells in the hospital are are wide eyes behind his protective goggles and a compulsive toying with the wristband of his gloves. He's one of the most courageous individuals ever because of what he faces on a regular basis. He hopes that he might get some reassurance from the Amis to stop his spiralling thoughts, and he mostly gets it.

• Joly definitely has a wild side, and is more than his anxious, serious self. If there's one who can one-up Courf's cheesy pick-up lines, it is Joly. With a eyebrow quirk that leaves everyone giggly and blushing. If there's one who can set a Karaoke stage on fire (not literally, that would be R), it's Joly. If there's one who can down shots to match Bahorel, it's Joly. The one who is the most eager to go skinny dipping? Joly. The one who is, oddly, the most eager to break a pinata? Joly. Joly is more than a "quiet science nerd who checks his tongue in the mirror all the time".

• Joly and Ferre INSIST that they do not talk about random medical trivia all the time. Honestly, their shared interests involve Jane Austen and massive amounts of gossip with tea, along with Doctor Who, Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett. MASSIVE AMOUNTS OF TEA, IN EVERY SENSE OF THE WORD.

• There are days he wants to tackle people like an angry Pikachu. But real life is tough, and not everyone has the privilege of confronting people. But he really, really can do without people casting aspersions on his poly relationship with Bossuet and 'Chetta ALL THE TIME. He has been confronted as an "opportunist" in Pride walks, faced with people's pitying look to Bossuet or 'Chetta as though he is stringing them both along or "sharing" 'Chetta with Bossuet, cheered on and slapped on the back by straight cismen for "knowing how to have fun", and once directly asked if he's the one who will marry 'Chetta. He goes into panic often, and for the longest time thought himself a really awful person.

• Beware a Joly in a farmer's market. Not because of haggling, but because some people ALWAYS assume that he's amazing at math while he actually fumbles at the cash counter. Similarly, he hates it if people crack shady jokes about him being a Marie Kondo around him (just because he likes neatness AND MARIE KONDO THANK YOU VERY MUCH). And no, he doesn't like rice all the time.

• Please give back the Tupperwares. Unlike popular opinion, Joly won't chase you down for his Tupperware like some do, and isn't particularly possessive about them. That doesn't mean that he can replace misplaced Tupperwares for all eternity, please. ;_; (Same goes for the beeswax food wraps and dino bandages, c'mon peeps don't help yourself to them indiscriminately ;_;).

• Apart from his baggy sweatshirt and dinosaur pajamas aesthetic, he also has a dress shirt and pleated pants collection that would probably leave Jay Gatsby jealous AF.

Bossuet:

• Is really self-conscious about his receding hairline. He had taken to shaving his head to make it look cool, because he's really uncomfortable with weird jokes about his age and baldness. Shaving heads is pretty high-maintenance at times, and he's slowly opening up to let the hair grow back on the sides of the head for the heck of it. He used to have a large collection of hats too, which he still uses occasionally, but now it is just a fashion accessory, not a way to hide. He likes scarves as well.

• He used to flinch and swallow his discomfort when people would touch his scalp without permission, now he firmly brushes off their hands with a light scowl.

• Similarly, he hates it when people actively try to compare him to Joly. He hates being considered less successful, a "third wheel" to Joly and 'Chetta and someone who can be taken less seriously. This doesn't mean he is jealous or angry with Joly at all though.

• He feels really, really angry when Joly sometimes breaks down in front of him and 'Chetta when confronted with comments on their relationship. He can and will stonewall anyone who hurts either of them.

• Bossuet understands Joly's anxiety because he faces anxiety as well. He often gets nightmares of his "bad luck" turning batshit Final-Destination-esque and resulting in horrible accidents to Joly, 'Chetta amd the rest of the Amis. He knows the "bad luck" jokes are good humouring, but it wears him down a lot in exam/interview/work meeting weeks and leaves him third and fourth guessing himself. He had also entered a bout of depression because the "bad luck" jokes had convinced himself that he can't progress in life because what's the use. It took a lot of work and, oddly, a super niche article from the Amis blog detailing research on how some societies actively ostracize people for being "unlucky" and how it is linked to major societal oppression, to help him.

• Bossuet loves having a heart of gold. Sometimes some people tell him not to be so nice ("what if that person has cheated you off money with a sob story?"). He refuses, because he cherishes being nice and knows his limits. He sometimes worries if he's being stupid, like when the great "attendance-by-proxy" disaster happens. But Marius' broad and grateful smile, "hi, how are you doing?" texts every morning, and monthly batch of AMAZING chocolate cookies makes it worth it.

• Bossuet's accidents do lead to some happy accidents. He stumbled on a whole new recipe of gooey brownies by accident. An amazing combination of dark chocolate and red chilli peppers (maybe not so weird in retrospect)? By accident. He fell upon Courfe's sandcastle once, but it resulted in a rare hermit crab crawling out. Courfe gave a treat at the new brunch place he was saving up for, because apparently that hermit crab had made Ferre all starry-eyed and happier than he had been in weeks. And as for the rest pf the accidents? Nothing that duct tape , 'Chetta, Joly and occasionally Feuilly can't help with. In all, his accidents are always smallish, and never monumental.

• Bossuet can put 'Chetta and Ferre to shame with his eyebrow raising (at least occasionally? Hehe?). He does that a lot when people ask him if he has put water on fire or has fallen into wells. "Like bruh? I don't go anywhere close to wells, I love sidewalks and what's with everyone asking me about the kitchen being on fire?" He also does that a lot to piners (R, Ep, Courfe, 'Parnasse).

• Bossuet is one of Enj's closest friends in Law School (apart from Courfe), because Law classes and shared optional papers. Duh. They often have long discussions which are super pleasant, fluffy, yet sensible because of his really sensitive optimism. Bossuet's unorthodox insights make their way into Enj's notes for ABC meetings, and he credits him always. Similarly Enj bails him out with attendance issues. Bossuet often calmly advices him about R. Since Joly has a similar relationship with Ferre, Bossuet and Joly sometimes help Enj and Ferre sort out lingering grievances between them, or plain hear them out. Enj and Bossuet have Froyo days.

Musichetta:

• Loves, loves, LOVES books. Has no idea why people think nerds come in a kind of stereotype only ("I don't look like you", she complains to Joly and Ferre one day, "but I can defeat you two in a Jane Austen quiz WTF!" They agree emphatically, and Ferre adds "and maybe Jehan too. Maybe".). She is a massive sucker for Comic-Cons and hates men who try to prove otherwise. -_- She loves libraries as much as she loves bars.

• Has no idea why people think she's super bitchy or about to eat them up. Many people plain run when she so much as looks at them while doing a shift as a barista in the Musain. Or ask for "the nicer barista" (Cosette?). When she breathes a sigh of relief when someone treats her nice, she also braces herself for self-righteous "saviours". "Are you sure you are doing okay with those men?" "They are using you!". If she poured milk all over a client's trousers because of such a comment not-so-accidentally, no one needs to know. ;)

• Sometimes, she feels drained out. Having to support both her partners anxiety can leave her down too. They are amazing people, who love her a lot, and know that she needs her recharge time. Often Bossuet takes over in caring for Joly and vice-versa. 'Chetta has a small arrangement with Courfe on those days. If he has free time, the two of them go for an amazing, super relaxing spa session. Bahorel is back-up spa partner. The two of them know not to ask questions, but let her unwind her thoughts and air them out.

• 'Chetta joined Les Amis L'ABC much later. One of her pet peeves were when Joly or Bossuet would go to protests which could easily turn violent because of right wing trolls and the police swarming the city. Specifically, when they went without more than a word or two to her. She would get worried sick, particularly if they couldn't pick up the phone within half an hour of the protest ending, and would cry alone because she didn't want to come off as needy and one of those people who do not support their cause.

• She finally broke down before them after Bossuet had a small concussion. They were really shamefaced at having not thought about her feelings, and their apologies ran for hours. While Joly promised to regularly give her updates, Bossuet asked her to join the ABC if she is comfortable with it. It took time for her to accept that she was being in the group because of the cause and not because she wanted to helicopter-mom Joly and Bossuet, but when the next protest happened, she realised that she was in a place she always wanted to be in.

• The Amis thought that she was a member anyway. She would holler at

• 'Chetta hates it when people think that it's Joly or Bossuet who end up lavishing gifts on her all the time. True, they do, but she does it too. She's a sucker for thoughtful gift giving, and she spoils the Amis A LOT OF TIMES. She can scour the Earth for ideal gifts for her boys, and she often takes care of a stray bill or two, as much as she humanely can. She doesn't play a one-upping battle of gifts though, she just loves a lot.

• She is really self conscious about her small hands and tiny feet. Which seem to her too small in comparison with the rest of her body. Sometimes she used to wear really fluffy mittens in winter to hide how small her hands her. Not so much now. :)

•She confided to Jehan that she didn't like people romanticizing her small hands and feet because she thought they were putting unrealistic standards of the "frail beauty" on her when she was anything but. She said this after she heard R chortle about how Joly had introduced her as having tiny hands and feet. The discussion ended in her gaping and then crying out of laughter because (according to Jehan) apparently Joly was really drunk when he first talked to the Amis about her, and had also said something like "she has fortune-teller eyes, yannow! Ask Bossuet! And her dimples! Marius, you booby, you pool noodle, I know how you feel like when you met Cosette!"

Apparently Bahorel had replied with "you need new pants" and then started laughing like no tomorrow. Bossuet, not so drunk (because he was late to the party), had taken the sensible route and shown the Amis the picture the three of them took after their first date.

• Seriously, she knows zilch about tarot cards or natal charts.

#les amis #les amis d'abc #les miz #les miserables #joly #bossuet #musichetta #undoing poly stereotypes #anxiety #we love them don't we?#stop bald shaming #stop laughing at anxiety #don't judge #ferret's freshly microwaved post

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vanchlo · 5 years ago

Text

Green Eyes

*Thanks so much for reading! c: There are now several parts you can read here: 2 3 4

I’m so happy to share that I won a fiction writing award for this short story through my college’s art journal! c:

Blurb Synopsis: You had been subbing for Mr. Styles for the last couple of months, but you’ve yet to meet him. The notes you leave for each other have sparked a friendship, leading you to want more, and you wonder if he does too.

Genre: Teacher Harry, lots of fluff, friendship, and maybe even some romance? ;)

Warnings: None

Word Count: 5.5k words

Pairing: Harry x Reader

Music Inspo: Green Eyes by Coldplay (click to listen)

His shelves were full of F. Scott Fitzgerald, Rumi, and Charles Bukowski. His desk was covered in scribbled Post-It notes, Bit-O-Honey wrappers, and empty mugs of tea.

This is what you noticed the first few times you subbed in his classroom.

These were the only details you knew about the man whose face you’ve never seen. As you gradually began to substitute for his high school English classes more and more, you learned about him more. This was due to his students, and his personal belongings.

What he didn’t and didn’t like: all the way from no fringes on a notebook paper, no red pen ever because that was his grading color, no using the word ‘can’t’ in his class, and students can eat all the snacks they want as long as the trash goes in the bin where it belongs.

The CDs in a stack on the shelf told you which ones he actually listened to because they were the ones that were on top and without dust.

You learned that the pristine book on his desk was never the one he was reading. No, it was the weathered and used copy beside his mug with dog-eared pages and penciled notes.

His drawers told you another story with their contents: boxes of teas ranging from peach to vanilla macaron, journals filled to the brim with words, adult coloring books with tv show themes, and books on Van Gogh and Monet hinting at his artsy background. His students slowly warmed up to you, and through them, so did he.

At this point, you’d only been subbing for Mr. Styles the last five months, racking up around two and a half weeks worth of subbed days. He always left precise and concise lesson plans for you. The books were where he said they’d be. The webpages he mentioned were bookmarked on his desktop. The teacher copy of the textbook and current group book were on his desk. At the beginning, his desk looked like a professional organizer had gotten their hands on it. Slowly, as you came to sub more for him, it grew messier, albeit you kept it tidy during your appearances. As the first few months passed and you became one of the few subs in his room, you started to find notes. They weren’t just any notes. They were more than the straight forward sub notes for the day’s agenda. No, they weren’t that simple. You can still remember the first one you found on a Post-It note - it went like this:

Y/N, peanut butter on your waffles or syrup?

It took you by surprise, but nonetheless, you answered his call. Each time, you’d find a contrasting pen color and scrawl your answer underneath his. Then leaving it somewhere he would find it the next day. They were one-liners at the beginning, and always interesting. Walking to his classroom from your car on those mornings, you’d fill with excitement at the anticipation of finding the next one. Sometimes it took you the entire day to find where he had hidden them.

In the closet.

In a nook in a drawer.

Under the chair.

On the backside of one of his books.

Hidden in plain sight amongst his current choice of notes and lists.

They never failed to spark a smile on your lips, whether it was quirky, confused, astounded or humored.

Guitar or piano?

FRIENDS or The Simpsons?

Vanilla or Chocolate?

Would you rather become a superhero or a wizard?

The Beatles or the Rolling Stones?

Slowly, the questions became more personal, and more than just ‘this or that.’ His questions became longer, and so did your answers.

What was the moment that made you decide to become a teacher?

Is Donny a good student for you, or is he lying to me about that?

What color are your eyes?

What book/film do you believe had the largest impact on you while growing up?

What is the one meal you always order at a restaurant?

Do you have a family?

Should I splurge and buy a new desk chair?

What book should I buy for my classroom you think I need to have? Why?

Why don’t you have a classroom of your own?

When is your birthday?

Star Wars or Lord of the Rings?

They were never a chore for you, or tedious. No, they were fun and you felt as if you saw a little sliver of who he really was with each note. After a while, you started to write and leave your own notes for him to answer. At first, many of them were similar to ones he had left you, because you wanted to hear his responses, too.

The newest one stares back at you, his half-cursive registering in your eyes.

What’s your favorite part about subbing in my classroom? Don’t say the students, that’s what everybody says.

Giggling to yourself, you reach over to his Pink Floyd mug to pull out a green pen. You take a moment to think of your answer. This time you found the note peeking out from behind the smart whiteboard. The sounds of the end of a school day tickle at your ears as you scribble down your answer. Pressing it to an open square of wood on his desk, you turn back to the royal blue pad of Post-Its. Peeling one off, the green pen hovers over the paper, but you can’t get yourself to write the question you’ve been wanting to know all along.

He didn’t have a Facebook, or an Instagram.

The high school doesn’t have a wall of staff pictures like others you’ve subbed at do.

It’s late winter, so yearbooks are still a ways off.

For all you know, you could have seen him here before in the halls when you subbed in another classroom.

Exhaling, you press the pen to the paper before you can convince yourself to stop. Unlike the many times before when your fears got the best of you.

What do you look like?

With a proud but nervous smile you stick it to the desk, layering the first note on top. It sticks to your lips as you bend down to reach your hand into your bag. The glossy bag greets your hand, and you pull it out to set down beside the note.

A small bag of Bit-O-Honeys.

Looking up, your eyes scan the empty classroom. Few footsteps, voices, and lockers slamming trickle in from the halls. You suddenly realize that this is the same view he sees, these are the same sounds he hears, and the same place he sits in every day. Well, when he’s not away on personal days, sick days, on holiday, and at workshops, hence your appearances. The thought knits something together inside of you, making you feel just that bit more closer to him. Something that’s been slowly happening over time since you first stepped foot in his classroom.

One of the first things that did this was the posters scattered across his walls. A poster from the 2013 remake of The Great Gatsby, The Beatles’ Abbey Road album cover, a cartoon of William Shakespeare, a unifying print of Keith Haring’s art, and several posters of quotes from famous books - To Kill A Mockingbird, the Kite Runner, Of Mice and Men, The Life of Pi, and even The Hunger Games. It delighted you watching him add some of them to the walls since your time here, and you’ve been itching to purchase him one as a gift. You’re unsure of what he would like though, and the fear of failure has held you back from doing so.

A bleep! catches your attention. Casting your eyes to the dormant desktop screen, you wiggle the mouse. A red circle has appeared on the title of a tab opened to your professional email. Clicking over to it from a YouTube video he had you show the class, you find you have a new message. At the sight of who sent it, your heart skips a beat: harry.styles@isd . . . . . . .

Hi. I reckon you’re still sitting at my desk this moment, now that’s a funny thought. I wanted to ask you a question while I remembered. I have to go out of town on Friday for a funeral. Believe me, I wouldn’t go if I didn’t have to, but these things are a must. I apologize for it being short notice, but I thought I’d ask you if you would like to take it before I posted it to the sub database. Please let me know either way by tonight, so it has a few days to sit on the website to be claimed. Also, I wanted to say thanks for everything you do. My students really love you, and it makes me wonder what I’m missing. Enjoy your night!

Sincerely,

Harry Styles

“Keep your face always toward the sunshine - and shadows will fall behind you. - WW”

A smile warms your cheeks as you finish reading his words, and the familiar poem that ends every email of his. You quickly type up a response to him, agreeing to take the job on Friday, thanking him for thinking of you. A new email appears in your inbox shortly after from another colleague, which occupies you before you lose yourself in your thoughts again.

Perhaps your favorite addition in his classroom is the Fender acoustic sitting on a stand in the corner. Of course, you’ve yet to see it move in the last five months. The stories his students have told you in a way have given it legs of its own in your mind. Much like the little notes you’ve been leaving for each other, something you dread ever ending.

It was a Wednesday. You’re convinced that Mrs. Watson’s Pre-Calc class is surely the bane of your existence. You keep cursing yourself for taking sub assignments for math classes. Seeing that you’re terrible at the subject, you vowed you’d never take one of her assignments again, but you have to pay the bills somehow. You found your respite in the cozy staff lounge. Couches lined two of the walls, along with an arrangement of tables on the other side of the room.

As you walk in, you see that one of the ancient history teachers has nodded off again on the plaid couch. Otherwise, the room is empty, and all to yourself. If that didn’t make you happy before, the assortment of food on the counter definitely does.

Voices float in through the open door as the plastic lid to the cupcakes opens with a pop!

“Ah, looks like ya got tha last chocolate one. I was savin’ that one fer me,” a voice comments from behind you. Turning, you find a tall man in his late 20’s walking towards you.

“Oh, I’m sorry, you can have it,” you volunteer, holding the blue-iced cupcake out for his taking.

His blush lips curl up with an amused smile. Dimples fall neatly into his cheeks covered with thick stubble. Its deep brown color matches that of the short quiffed curls atop his head. Misty green eyes stare back at you in the middle of his round, but sharp face. “‘m only joking. Go ahead and have it. I already had one earlier. They’re quite good actually, but I dunno ‘bout tha vanilla. Never really cared fer tha flavoir when it comes t’ cake and ice cream,” he comments, passing you to stop at the nearby sink.

“Yeah, I like to forget vanilla exists half of the time,” you remark, peeling away the paper liner of the cupcake.

Leaning against the counter, you watch as his ringed hand grabs a red coffee mug from the cabinet. “So do I. ‘s ratha boring, if I do say so meself.”

Nodding to yourself, a silence follows your words. The sweetness of the cupcake is shocking when you take a bite. It makes you wonder how you devoured these sugar bombs as a child. A few beeps and a hum from the microwave echo throughout the room as you check your phone.

“Y’know, I haven’t seen ya here at tha school befo’. Are ya new dis year or a sub?” he asks, bringing your eyes back to his lean figure. He pulls a yellow square packet from his tight-fitting black slats, a blush button-down tucked into its waist.

“I started subbing here this year,” you answer before taking another bite of the cupcake. Half of it consists of the sickeningly sweet frosting that makes your teeth ache.

“Mmmm I see. How d’ya like it so far? Are ya a new teacher, ‘s that why yer subbin’?”

“Yeah, I went back to school kinda late in the game after doing something else. I figure I’d sub for a little bit for some experience, because what’s another year of waiting by this time?” you comment, observing how he fiddles with his black tie while searching in the refrigerator.

“Well, congratulations. ‘s a big step t’ go back t’ school fer sumthin’ ya love. ‘s a good profession, I reckon. I’ve been teaching fer 7 years, and here at dis school fer 5. Sumtimes schools even hire subs they’ve had when a position opens, so keep yer eyes open,” he tells you, turning to you with a smile, a yogurt in his hand.

“Thank you,” you say sincerely, returning the smile. “I appreciate the vote of confidence.”

“Sure thing. I know it helped loads when I was a newbie. ‘ll see ya around, I gotta get back t’ class befo’ me students do first. Have a good one!”

Walking towards you with the steaming cup of tea in his hands, he pats your arm with his other hand on the way out. Nodding at your ‘thank you’, a small ‘you’re welcome’ falls from his lips before the door closes behind him. Eating the last bite you can muster of the cupcake, you toss its remains in the bin. A thought worms its way into your mind as you sit down at the table.

Wow, I wonder who that guy was? And is he married, because shit, he was handsome.

The smell of orange essential oil greets you when you stepped foot into his classroom the next time. The state of his desk made you frown, and made you want to scratch the itch to clean it. You resisted it and didn’t, and that thought was taken away when his students began to find their desks.

Another day of 7 classes came and went. 2 classes of Introduction to Creative Writing. 3 classes of American Literature. 2 classes of World Literature. Amusing YouTube videos broke up the monotony of your day, and those of his students. The lesson notes he left for you had become more concise as the months have passed, and as you learned from each other. The same couldn’t be said for the dish of Bit-O-Honeys on his desk that he’s kept stocked for your appearances. You’re just glad he’s put the bag you left for him to good use. All throughout your day you had been looking for his newest note, but this time it wasn’t in any of his usual spots. After correcting some quizzes from today, you finally found it in the bottom left-hand drawer of his mahogany desk. Stuck to a tall can of Coke, your favorite drink of choice.

I’m sorry it’s warm, although I’m not sure how you like to drink it. I just find warm soda to be rather nasty. The answer to your question is I have green eyes, brown hair, I’m rather tall, and I like to dress up. Is that good enough for you? Now, what do you look like, love?

Your insides melt at the sight of his answer, but then you groan at the vagueness of it. Off the top of your head, you know there are at least 10 male teachers here at this school with brown hair, maybe more. Maybe even with green eyes, too, and you know that because you’ve seen them in the staff lounge or in the halls. The thought only grows worse when you lose count of how many teachers there are here at this school. Let’s just say, there’s a lot. Yeah, that sure helps a whole lot. Annoyed, you pluck a pen from the green mug and answer his question with as little detail as possible. Two can play at this game, you think to yourself as you sigh.

If you could have a jam session with any musician, dead or alive, who would it be?

Sticking the new note where its corner peeks out from under his tabletop calendar, your eyes return to the Coke. It’s undeniable, you feel a little less perturbed at him just at the sight of it. Only a little bit, that is. Sure, you’ve subbed for a countless number of teachers at this school, and more so in this school district. A few of them are even friends or relatives of yours, but you’d never connected with one before like you have with Harry. You just wish more than anything you could find out what he looks like and what he’s really like. Continuing to take his sub jobs doesn’t really help with that. It only drives you crazier wanting to know the other side of this fascinating human being.

There he was, snoring on the couch again, tv remote in hand. The weather channel is playing, surprising you very little. Snickering, you yank open the door to the black refrigerator. After retrieving your striped black and blue lunchbox, you place the container of leftovers in the microwave. A laugh is heard over your shoulder, and when you turn, you find Green Eyes from the other day.

Tittering as the door closes behind him, he says, “No fail, John ‘s always passed out on dat couch, I swear.”

“I know, it’s every time I’m here. Maybe he should just retire already so he can take his naps at home. Then maybe we could watch something on the tv for once,” you comment, shaking your head. Unpacking your lunch box, you take out a clementine, vanilla yogurt, and silverware.

“Nah, he loves it too much. I don’t see him leavin’ anytime soon,” he remarks, walking past you to search the shelves of the fridge. “What’re we having’ t’day? Couldn’t find any cupcakes dis time?”

“No, those ones were too sweet anyways. They gave me a stomachache,” you complain with a grimace. The beeeeep! of the microwave interrupts your thoughts.

“Mmmm, I dunno, I thought they were pretty good.” Rubbing his tummy, he pulls a breathy laugh from your lips.

Your steaming container of leftovers almost burns your hands, and you dread trying to eat it within the next 10 minutes. Setting up for a lesson in Mr. Harrison’s classroom was a pain, making you wonder why you take any sub jobs besides Harry’s anymore.

“No free food fer us t’day,” he pouts beside you, closing the fridge door before venturing to the vending machine in the corner. Your eyes drift to his outfit choice today - a white button-down topped with a buttoned vest the shade of ochre, all tucked into brown slacks.

“That’s why you pack a lunch. I thought you’d know the drill by now, since you said you’ve been teaching for a while.”

“I do, but sumtimes I forget. Yer already ahead o’ me with dat part, love,” he who doesn’t have a name answers with a short laugh. Sliding a leather wallet from his pocket, you see him type in a number before you sit down at the table. “Who are ya subbin’ fer t’day then?”

“I’m on the west side in the Science wing for Harrison. Bloody Bio.”

“Ugh, I neva cared fer science. Where were ya a few weeks ago when I last saw ya?” he questions, sliding out a chair across from you. An assortment of vending machine food hits the table with a slap - peanut M&M’s, a nutrigrain bar, and a bag of Sun Chips.

“Upstairs in Watson’s Maths class. Remind me to never sub for her again, because I can’t understand Pre-Calc for the life of me. I never could in high school so I don’t know why I thought I could know,” you chuckle. A warmth fills your cheeks at the sight of his lips spreading into an amused smile.

“Yeah, I neva cared fer Maths meself eitha. Numbas neva made a bit o’ sense t’ me, words were always betta,” he explains. You nod along with his words, your mouth occupied with a bite of spaghetti and meatballs. “What subject would ya like t’ teach once tha year’s ova an’ ya go searchin’ fer a job o’ yer own?”

“Um, probably something in English since that’s my focus area. Dabbling in History has been fun, though. I enjoy learning about it myself, and I always have a better time subbing in either of those classes,” you reveal.

“I see,” he replies, his head going up and down. The crinkling of the granola bar wrapper fills the silence between you before he takes a bite. Crumbs pepper his chin, but he wipes them away from his thin beard. “How often d’ya sub here then?”

“I’d say probably 3 days a week typically, but some weeks are 4. Otherwise, I sometimes sub for a friend or somebody I know over at the middle school.”

“Ah, so yer license is sumthin’ like 8 - 12, ‘s it?” he inquires, picking up the black mug you hadn’t noticed he had.

“Yeah, I thought that would give me a good range for those grades. With my experience now, I think I’d like to stay at the high school level though,” you continue, twirling you fork around in the noodles covered in tomato sauce. Crossing your legs, the satiny fabric of your black dress pants moves with you.

“We could always use anotha good teacher here. Ya neva know what’ll happen,” he smiles, standing to his feet with his snacks held in his large hand. Returning his smile, he adds his mug to that hand, patting your back once on his way out. “See ya next time, love. Keep yer head up, it’ll get betta.”

“Thanks,” you automatically respond with. When you go to say his name, you’re lost for words, because you suddenly remember you’ve never gotten it. Now, he’s already too far away to ask for it.

Shrugging your shoulders, you stab a meatball with your fork, wondering when the next time will be that you’ll see him again. Because, he sure is nice to look at, and he’s nicer to you than anybody else here.

Stevie Nicks or John Lennon, it’s a tough call. Okay, I’m doing two questions from now on, because you ask such good ones :( Who would you jam with then? Question #2: What was the last concert you went to?

This time, you found the Post-It before the school day even started. It was on the seat of his chair, making you think he wanted you to find it right away. You’re thinking maybe he remembered one of the last times you complained about how hard he had made it. Sometimes you worry about how excited you get to look for these each time you sub in his classroom, but then you remember it’s only once every few weeks.

That can’t hurt, can it?

That day the hallways were louder than they usually were after school. You attributed that to the boys’ semifinals basketball game set to be played tonight in the gymnasium. The school’s home team against a nearby rival school. Students couldn’t stop talking about it all day, and many of them shared they’d be sticking around after school to attend. Checking your watch, you note that you should have enough time to stop at home to eat dinner before coming back for it. Even though you hadn’t even known about it before today.

The Sufjan Stevens song floating from his desktop fills the room as you get out books for tomorrow. Your hands are full with copies of The Kite Runner, making you feel grateful again to Harry- Mr. Styles for picking a decent classic for the class to read. Although you’d only read it a few years ago yourself, and it broke your heart, you’re excited to sub next time to help his World Lit class with it.

“Oh hey, be careful there, yer gonna slip and fall with all o’ those,” somebody says from behind you, distracting you from your mission of bringing the pile of books from the closet to a desk.

Don’t I know that voice? Turning your eyes to the doorway, you find Green Eyes walk in with a coat slung over his arm. Wait a second.

“I-I’m fine,” you stutter, but your actions that follow negate your words. Your eyes run over his familiar features, and slowly the puzzle pieces start to click in your head. Harry? A thought bomb explodes in your head, and the books tumble from your arms. “Shit, I’m sorry.”

“Yer okay,” he murmurs, stopping in front of you. Kneeling down, you both begin to pick up the books, stacking them on top of each other. “Thanks for gettin’ me set up fer t’morrow though. I appreciate it.”

“Mmmhmm,” is all you can say, because any words that want to come out can’t get past the lump in your throat. One that’s there because of the realization you just had.

Green Eyes and Harry are the same person.

How did I not figure this out sooner?

“So, ya must be Y/N, huh?” he giggles, his head bent down as he helps you pick up the books.

“Y-Yeah, surprise,” you admit, and your laugh soon joins his. Before you know it, the both of you can’t stop laughing.

“Here,” you hear him say. Looking up, you find him standing in front of you holding his hand out for you to take. A cozy looking maroon sweater covers his upper half, and blue jeans don the rest. “Fancy meetin’ you here,” he jokes in between laughs.

“You’re right about that,” you answer, taking his hand. He helps you to your feet where you smooth down the violet skirt of your dress. “I can’t believe I didn’t connect the dots.”

“Yer not tha only one, love,” Harry comments, bending over to grab a stack of books. He begins to set one on each desk as he walks down the aisles of them. “But I s’pose there wasn’t any way t’ know.”

“Yeah, I couldn’t find you on Facebook,” you confess, cursing yourself for the slip up a few seconds later. Lifting your head from the book you just set on a desk, you find his amused eyes on you across the room.

“Ah, so ya were stalkin’ me, were ya?” he smirks, his delightful laugh following his words.

“No, I wasn’t! You’re just one of the only colleagues I’ve subbed for who I’ve never met, or like don’t know what they look like.”

Your small stack soon disappears and when you return to the pile at the back of the room, he does too.

“So, what d’ya think? Are ya disappointed then?”

“No,” you say automatically, lifting your eyes to his green ones that land on you. His cheeks lined with a thick, neat beard crease with dimples as he smiles at you.

“Neither am I . . . . Ms. Vance Joy fan,” he returns, holding your gaze. The sincerity in his words gets under your skin, going straight to your heart. The sarcastic joke inside of them makes you giggle.

Clearing your throat, you look away with what you’re sure are blushing cheeks. Most likely, an entire blushing face. “What are you doing here, anyways, if you were gone for the day?”

“I can’t miss me boys’ big game, a few o’ me students are on tha team. I thought I’d catch up on sum emails and grading befo’hand, but didn’t know ya’d still be here.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I was just leaving, anyways,” you mutter, your movements stilling.

“I didn’t mean it dat way, love. ‘m glad we finally met, it was about time, anyways,” Harry insists, and you nod before continuing to place a book at each desk. “Hey wait, you said you were short and all plain in yer note. No, yer not, ya fibber.”

“Oh like your description was any more accurate,” you scoff lightheartedly, setting down a book before grabbing another from your dwindling stack.

His rich laugh meets your ears, and you can’t resist looking over to him. “Ya didn’t give yerself enough credit, ya know,” he almost coos, and you swear your heart melted into a puddle right then and there. That’s if it hadn’t done so already when you realized he’s Green Eyes. Swoon.

It’s hard to hold back the excitement curling at the edge of your lips. Soon, you run out of books again and when you take a peek at him, so has he.

“Were ya gonna go?” he questions, and you deal him one when you look at him confused. “T’ tha game, I mean.”

Your body feels like jello, and that any move you make would be sloppy. Embarrassing. That’s the last thing you want to look like in front of him. With his dazzling smile, adorably dimpled cheeks, and the cozy vibes he’s giving off. Not to mention, the clean citrus scent wafting off of him. A smell you certainly would be okay with smelling for hours on end. If only.

“Well bloody Rob around tha corner bailed on me, so I have an extra ticket now. Would ya like t’ join me? I was thinkin’ o’ grabbin’ a sub from ‘round tha corner befo’. Concession food ‘s always too expensive, and never worth tha lines at halftime,” Harry suggests, tucking his hands into the pockets of his jeans. One corner of his mouth climbs up his cheek, making you feel like maybe you’re not alone in these jumbled feelings. Or in the fun you’ve had carrying on this blind relationship with him.

“Yeah, that sounds like fun. Maybe we could get to know each other a little better than the few words Post-It notes can hold.”

Slowly, the other corner of his lips curls upwards, making the dimple fall into his cheek once again. Nodding, his lips split into a full-fledged smile, singing with a chuckle. “I’d really like that,” he reveals before venturing to the door and shutting off the light. Extending an arm, he waves a hand towards himself.

“Hold on, let me get my things.”

“No rush. ’s not like ‘ve waited seven months fer dis or anythin’,” he quips. By now, you’re certain your face resembles a tomato. You hope that in the muted light, perhaps he won’t notice.

Hurriedly, you slip on your light coat and drape your bag over your shoulder. Your eyes catch something as you’re tucking your phone in your pocket. Grabbing one last thing, you turn to find him watching you from the lit doorway.

“What?” he wonders aloud, still with that smile etched onto his face. One you’re fairly sure you could get used to seeing.

“Here,” you tell him, placing the Post-It note in his palm. His fingers dotted with dark hairs brush against you, just for a second longer than need be.

“Ah, can’t forget dis now. Important stuff here.”

“Indeed,” you note, stifling a laugh as the sarcasm floats in the air.

You observe his eyes flit across the paper holding your cursive as your steps echo down the empty hallway.

“Hmmm, funny. It says ‘would you like to meet up sometime’ on here,” Harry reads, casting his twinkling eyes to you. Green eyes. “I was jus’ ‘bout t’ ask ya tha same thing on me next note. But I had sumthin’ that woulda took tha cake fer sure.”

“What’s that?” you remark, wondering how that could be. Those thoughts fly out the window when you feel his arm come around your shoulder. A squeal sounds inside of your head, but hey, at least that’s far less embarrassing than doing it out loud.

“I was gonna tell ya dat Tracy across tha hall from me ‘s leavin’ afta dis year, and I may have recommended a certain sumbody t’ tha principal t’ replace her,” Harry hums, a knowing glint dancing in his eyes as they hover over you. “What d’ya say t’ bein’ colleagues instead o’ bein’ me sub?”

“I think I could get used to that,” you answer, letting your smile take over your entire face.

“So could I, love. So could I.”

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lesbian-percy-weasley · 4 years ago

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How To Make Your Crush Fall In Love With You In Three Easy Steps by Gay-Natasha-Saves-The-World on Ao3 (aka your Frankenstein references in Harry Potter fanfiction dealer)

Chapter 2: Make Yourself Desirable

Ship: Perciver

Content warning: Spoilers to the American satirical comedy But I’m A Cheerleader staring Natasha Lyonne and Clea Duvall in the first paragraphs. (It’s free on YouTube if you haven’t seen it)

Summary: Percy is starting to question his feelings about Oliver while Oliver tries everything in his power to prove to Percy he’s sort of an intellectual

A/N: Online school has totally messed with my sleep schedule so midnight fic release woohoo

“I swear film studies attract the worst type of people,” Penny sighed as she sat down at the library table with her friends. “This Tarantino fanboy was trying to talk to me about Pulp Fiction and then acted like I killed his dog when I said I didn’t like it. Cinema peaked with But I’m A Cheerleader and you can’t convince me otherwise.”

“Oh please, what’s so good about that movie?” Cedric complained. “Ummm, it’s gay, it’s a commentary about how gender roles are bullshit, it has a happy ending, and prince Zuko is in it,” Penny argued while she was opening her lunch.

“I would hardly call getting disowned by your family and being homeless a happy ending.”

“Did you not pay attention to the movie at all? First of all, they weren’t homeless; they were staying with Larry and Lloyd Morgan-Gordon. And second of all the last scene of the movie shows Megan’s parents in a support group for people with gay children so clearly they didn’t disown her.” Penny could deal with a lot of bullshit, but someone saying But I’m A Cheerleader was a bad movie was not one of them.

Percy however found this hilarious, but he was trying to hold in his laughter since they were in a library and his laugh was notoriously loud. Penny and Cedric were continuing to argue about the movie and Percy managed to gain composure. That’s when he noticed Oliver looking at him from next to a shelf.

He gave him a small friendly wave before he walked away of embarrassment. Strange. But Percy decided not to think a lot about it.

“Was that your boyfriend?” Penny teased Percy. “Don’t be ridiculous, it's just my friend from English.” He replied trying everything he could not make his face blush. “Oh, so he’s the person we have to thank for getting you to finally shut up about it.” Cedric laughed.

There was no hiding Percy’s blush now. “Oh wait, I get it. He’s not your boyfriend but you want him to be.” Penny exclaimed like this was a great revelation. “No!” Percy said a bit louder than he meant to, earning a harsh glare from Ms. Pince. “He’s just my friend. Besides, I doubt he’s gay, and even if he is, how would he know I’m gay.”

“Your computer screensaver is literally a picture of Oscar Wilde. It doesn’t take a genius to figure it out.” Cedric replied matter-of-factly. Percy couldn’t even muster a reply to that. Yes, Cedric was right but that still didn’t prove that he would have any chance of ever being with Oliver.

I mean just look at him. He’s a lanky, ginger nerd who was too shy to have more than 2 good friends and Oliver was a gorgeous and popular star sports player. Even if Oliver was gay, why would he want to be with him when he could be with any other boy in school?

Before he knew it, lunch ended and he had to go on with his day. But the thought of Oliver would be on his mind for the rest of the day.

Oliver was extremely tired after track practice. Besides the growing mountain of homework he had, he wanted to read the book for Percy. As much as he wanted to ignore it, if he did his grades would drop even lower and he would absolutely be kicked from the team. So the book could wait for now.

By the time he was done with his homework, he felt like he was about to pass out. But he HAD to read the book. It couldn’t be that hard to read, right? After all, he watched the movie with his parents a few years ago.

Oliver couldn’t even get past page 3 of Frankenstein before almost dozing. “I thought there was supposed to be a monster…” He mumbled to himself as he set the book down. He decided that he will try again tomorrow. If that didn’t work he would just SparkNotes it. It was almost 11 pm anyway.

For the next week, Oliver spent virtually every bit of the little free time he had reading Frankenstein. It was deceptively small for the amount of effort it took to read it. But late one night, he finally finished it.

The amount he took in was debatable but he understood enough to prove he read it. Just as he was thinking about messaging Percy about it, his phone beeped. He picked it up to see Percy had already messaged him.

ThatPercival: Do you still need help with the English homework?

Oliver.Would: Nah, I figured it out.

ThatPercival: Oh, okay.

Oliver.Would: I’ve been getting better at English this semester lol. I actually just finished reading Frankenstein.

ThatPercival: Really? What did you think about it?

Oliver.Would: I thought you were right about it being a better Jekyll and Hyde.

ThatPercival: Right? Mary Shelley did it first and better. I don’t know why we don’t read it instead.

Oliver.Would: If you got to pick the books we read in school people would actually pay more attention.

ThatPercival: I doubt they would pay any more attention to Pride and Prejudice or the Picture of Dorian Gray than they already do when they’re reading The Great Gatsby. But I would have more fun.

Oliver.Would: Touche. But at least we would be reading better books. You don’t even understand how boring English was before you came along.

ThatPercival: Speaking of English, what happened in the first semester that made Mr. Lupin have assigned seating? He never did that last year.

Oliver.Would: Oh yeah, Marcus Flint punched someone in the face over a seat.

ThatPercival: Asgjfhksdfkfdj What????

Oliver.Would: Yeah some kid sat in the seat he usually sat in, they argued about it for a few minutes and then he just punched him. He got suspended for a few weeks and Mr. Lupin had to change the rules. It was the only notable thing that happened in the first half of the year.

ThatPercival: That seems like a pretty severe reaction for someone sitting in your seat.

Oliver.Would: Yeah lol.

The conversation died after that and Percy felt quite sad about it. He would talk to Oliver all night if he could. It didn’t matter if he would see him in the morning. He’s found himself wanting to talk to Oliver about everything. Found a meme about the book they read in class? He would send it to Oliver. His siblings did something generally annoying? He would let off steam by talking to Oliver.

He still talked to Penny and Cedric about the random shit they always talked about, but he wanted to talk to Oliver way more. It just felt more, natural? Why would it feel more natural? He’s known Penny and Cedric since middle school and he’s known Oliver for like 3 months.

He put his phone on his bedside table and sighed heavily. All of this was just so confusing. He could read and understand some of the most advanced works in literature but his brain was a different story. Oliver made him feel an emotion he couldn’t describe.

His pondering was cut off by the ungodly noise his siblings were making seemingly right outside his door. They always seemed to do this at the worst times. It was 10:30 at night, what could they possibly be doing? Before he even got to the door, his mom was already telling them off.

Now he could return to trying to decode his feelings for Oliver. He couldn’t stop thinking about what Penny said a few weeks ago. Did he really want Oliver to be his boyfriend? Okay, maybe there was some truth in that. But there was still no way Oliver would want to be his boyfriend.

So what if he read a book he mentioned once? Maybe he was just trying to be friendly or expanding his literary horizons. That doesn’t mean he wants Percy to be his boyfriend. Why would he want to be his boyfriend? The two of them couldn’t have been more different.

But he shouldn’t waste time thinking about it. He had to sleep. He put his phone on the charger, turned his lights off, got into bed, and tried not to think about how madly in love with Oliver he was.

#harry potter #percy weasley #oliver wood #perciver #fanfiction #gay #percy weasley x oliver wood #muggle au #Highschool #classic literature brain rot #references to Frankenstein

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travelcenter-uk · 4 years ago

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Top 5 Cities to Visit in 2021 for Bookworms

There are no places in the world that bookworms have not travelled to. Starting from the streets of London to the villages of India, we have been everywhere. The descriptions of places in every book that we read have been our little bubbles of peace. And, we have all enjoyed the solo tours through the pages that take us to places. Sometimes, some places become a part of us. Some places, although imaginary, become so real to us. Some places, we add to our bucket list because they are worth a real visit.

It is the third type that I am going to talk about in this article. A list of best cities around the world for all the bookworms to visit in 2021!

Sit back and read till the end to know more about the literary destinations in your bucket list. Look out for the quizzes that come in between!

First off, we’ll start with the centre of Literature;

London!

London is the heart of many best-selling novels of all time. An inspiration for many of our favourite authors, like William Shakespeare, Charles Dickens, JK Rowling, Jane Austen, and many others.

I know most of you already know this, so let’s talk about what more London has for you as one of the best cities to visit in Europe. Of course, for the bookworms!

Get on the Hogwarts Express & Head to the WB Studio Tour!

We grew up in the streets of London as children every time we read Harry Potter. Besides wanting to visit Hogwarts, we have all wanted to visit the Platform 9¾ at least once in a lifetime.

This opportunity for you is open at the King’s Cross Station, London! Although the platform is not as J.K. Rowling describes it as in the book, you can still take a picture to treasure.

Photo tips include: A picture with the cart, wearing a scarf and holding a magic wand in your hand. Or, get someone to shoot a video of you trying to run through the secret wall.

In addition to all this literary fun, you will also find the official Harry Potter Platform 9 ¾ Shop!

London does not have only one place to visit for the Harry Potter fans. I know how much this makes you happy! So, the next best thing for you to do in London is to,

Take a ride on the Hogwarts Express and Go shopping in the Diagon Alley

These are the two best things to do in London that’ll make you feel like a real wizard/witch. The train heads to Scotland (pretend like its Hogwarts), cutting through the lush countryside. This two-hour ride to Scotland would be enough for you to fill your gallery with many iconic images to recreate.

If that isn’t enough, then you still have an option to select a two-day train journey around the highlands.

Won’t say ‘to wind up’, but maybe if you haven’t seen enough, then the Diagon Alley is the best place for you to go next.

It is a cobblestoned wizarding alley allocated for shopping in London. The alley, just like the one described in the book, is an assortment of shops and restaurants. Besides London’s Leadenhall Market and Borough Market, this is the ideal place for you to do your muggle shopping!

As much as these places in London excites the Potterheads, the next literary spot is going to satisfy the wannabe Sherlock Holmes! Because, next, you are going to,

Embed your footprints in 221B Baker Street!

Being London’s iconic places to visit in 2021, 221B Baker Street is the Home to the famous (fictional) consulting detective, Sherlock Holmes! What is so special about Baker Street is that it covers Sherlock Holmes art and memorabilia.

For those who want to get a full-on detective experience, the Sherlock Holmes Museum at 221B located between 237 and 241 is fantastic! Why? Because it recreates the rooms from the series, including Holmes’ laboratory (I know you wouldn’t want to miss this).

Besides this, you can also check out the Sherlock Holmes Public House and Restaurant located nearby.

Apart from the signature drink, thrills at the Platform 9 ¾ and Baker Street, you can also, visit the famous museum of Charles Dickens, to find a lock of his hair (a little weird, I know) and his lemon squeezer! The die-hard fans can also encounter personal letters and manuscripts of Dickens.

Next,

Try out Jame's Bond's signature drink!

“Three measures of Gordon’s, one of vodka, half a measure of Kina Lillet. Shake it very well until it’s ice-cold, then add a large thin slice of lemon peel. Got it?”

If you remember this, then you sure know what signature drink we are recommending you try.

The Duke’s Hotel in London serves this signature drink of 007 in its most original form. Inspired by James Bond’s way of ordering, the golden rule to this martini is for it to be “shaken, not stirred”!

Once you had tried the Vesper Martini, here’s

A list of other things to do in London;

Visit the garden squares of Bloomsbury, where lots of great writers, artists and intellectuals have met in the 1920s and 30s.

Explore the British Library, famous for Jane Austen’s writing desk!

Enjoy drama at the Shakespeare’s Globe

Take a look at the Keats House

Encounter the famous Elephant House

Pay a visit to the Eagle and Child

Check out the Greenway House

Be a part of the Poet’s Corner

Experience the wild Ashdown Forest

Take a look at the Hilltop House

Visit the Brontë Parsonage

Walk into the George Inn

It’s just mind-blowing how London counts as one of the best cities to visit in 2021 for the bookworms. The city constitutes innumerable literary things-to-do that I could write a whole other article on! (You can let me know down in the comment if you want one!)

I know I have told you way too much about London here. But, this is not the end. We have more best cities around the world for you to visit!

In that list, let’s see what the city of Love has for the bookworms;

Paris

While for the rest of the world, Paris means love, for the bookworms, Paris means Les Misérables! The city was the heart of Victor Hugo, who based his novel ‘Les Misérables’ in the 19th-century Paris. Paris has always been in the romantic bucket lists but here’s why it could now be in your literary bucket list;

You can take a literary tour in Paris by foot or a metro

It’s as simple as that! Just save more Euros to visit Disneyland Paris and take the literary tour on foot. Metro sounds excellent too. But walking around the streets would give you an experience that’s more than just a literary tour.

However, you get to choose your convenient mode of transport. Meanwhile, here are some of the best literary spots in Paris that we don’t want you missing out!

First, visit the park that Hugo highlights in Les Misérables,

Jardin du Luxembourg!

It is where the first meeting between Marius Pontmercy and Cosette happened!

Besides Les Misérables, Henry James also had featured Luxembourg park in The Ambassadors.

It also has been a favourite spot for American writer Gertrude Stein and her partner, Alice B. Toklas.

Fun fact: Many famous writers are said to have spent time wandering in the park for inspiration.

Next,

A trip to the Home of famed French writer Victor Hugo

I know we talk a lot about Hugo as we stroll through the literary streets of Paris. It is because there was perhaps no other significant writer who wrote about the enchantment of Paris the way Victor Hugo did. His Home has now become a museum dedicated to his life and his works.

So, if you are a fan of his writing, you should not miss this out. Not a fan? Then this visit is still worth it! Because you are sure to become a fan overnight!

After a visit to two of the memorable Les Miserable spots, you should,

Experience the authentic literature spot, La Closerie des Lilas

Fun fact: Legend has it that F. Scott Fitzgerald showed Ernest Hemingway the manuscript to The Great Gatsby at this place!

It has been a significant meeting point for literary geniuses, where they had recited and shared their work during the days. At night, the spot had been a place for debate and literary discussion for many American novelists as they enjoyed the chilly nights of Paris.

Paris, like London, is one of the best cities to visit in 2021 to quench your thirst for literary destinations. Besides these literary activities, you also have a whole range of places to visit, like; the American Library in Paris, Maison de Balzac, Harry’s New York Bar, Musée de la Vie Romantique, Café de Flore, Shakespeare & Company and much more!

Next in the list of best cities to visit in 2021 for bookworms is,

Cairo

One of the best cities around the world for bookworms to visit! Why? Because it is the birthplace for many famous novels like Fates’ Mockery by Naguib Mahfouz, Death Comes as the End by Agatha Christie and The Spy Who Loved Me by Ian Fleming!

You can start your literary tour in Cairo from the Egyptian Museum. Here you can discover more about the origins of the hieroglyphics and ancient papyrus.

You can also check out the Cairo Marriott palace where Agatha Christie, the English writer, stayed for three months.

Noisy neighbourhoods can be a little daunting. If you can cope with that, then the Miami Metro Hostel in the Garden City area is a great place to stay. It lets you spend the night in the apartment block that inspired Alaa Al-Aswany’s international bestselling The Yacoubian Building.

For, James Bond fans, you can head to Darb al-Ahmar where Ian Fleming set the ground for Bond to walk around the 2,000-year-old Mosque of Ibn Tulun.

In addition to these, the Great Pyramids are also a must-visit. Not just because that is what Egypt is famous for, but also became it evokes memories from the opening of Christie’s famous mystery novel, Death on the Nile.

The next city is vibrant out of the best cities around the world to visit for bookworms;

Tokyo

There’s no best novel than Murakami’s Norweigan Wood that can describe Tokyo in its most extraordinary form. So, for those who have read Norweigan Wood, Tokyo is one of the best cities to visit in 2021!

Some of you avid readers may already have noted the highlighted places in the book. But, for those who haven’t, these are what you must do in Tokyo to get the full experience of Murakami’s novel.

Walk the roads where Watanabe followed Naoka for most of the afternoon.

Start from JR train, where the duo had their first encounter. Get off at the Yotuya station. Walk to Ichigaya, the ultimate one-stop-shop for a hardcore Murakami fan, where you’ll feel every bit of the book come alive. After the long walk, you can dine at “Komatsuan”, the place the two of them dined at.

Next,

Multiple train ride from Kichijoji and Shinjuku

The first trip you should take is to Shinjuku, where Watanabe used to work part-time. Then, the jazz bar Dug where he goes to with Midori. These multiple train rides from his residence to his workplace and the chilling spot will give you a complete experience of the book.

Once you have encountered the second half of the book, next,

Wakeijuku-Watanabe's dorm!

Wasade Daigaku is the real place in Tokyo that inspired Murakami to create Watanabe’s dorm. It is a university campus, gorgeously covered in green. You can walk from the university to Watanabe’s dorm in the book- Wakeijuku. The place is no different from what Murakami has described it as in the book.

Besides Norweigan Wood, other famous novels are also in Tokyo. Some of them are; Spring Snow by Yukio Mishima, Who Is Mr Satoshi by Jonathan Le, Flesh and the Mirror from Fireworks.

After Tokyo, in our top 5 cities in 2021 for bookworms, we have the city of Russian writers!

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St. Petersburg

The residents consider this city as “a stone book whose pages were created by great Russian poets and writers.”

St. Petersburg is one of the best cities to visit in 2021 for bookworms, considering the reflection of Roman Literature in the city. Not just that, the city also has many shrines dedicated to writers and literary characters. These buildings also have plaques marked to commemorate writers and poets.

It’s always a cultural visit if you loved Dostoevsky’s Crime and Punishment because you get to explore the literary past and present of St. Petersburg. There is no insufficiency in Literature in this city. It widely includes a collection of the best museums, workplaces and memorials to Russian writers!

These top 5 cities to visit in 2021 for bookworms do not limit the countless other places available for literary visits. So, if you want to read more and add more such best cities around the world to your bucket list, let us know in comments.

Oh, and don’t forget that you can always make Travel Center’s exclusive deals into unforgettable literary tours. All you need to do is to talk to one of our friends at Travel Center. They are always online to give you all the information you require.

Don’t wait too long; we have already got the deals for the best cities to visit in 2021 & 2022 ready for you!

Read More:- Top 5 Cities to Visit in 2021 for Bookworms

This Article, Information & Images Source (copyright) :- Travel Center UK Blog

#travel #travelling #traveller #travellife #travelgoals #travelcenertuk #bookworms #destinations

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frasermacintosh · 3 years ago

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IT’S MY PARTY AND I’LL CRY IF I WANT TO → STRAWBERRY LEMONADE

TAGGING → Fraser Macintosh & Lemon La Bouff ( @lemonlabouff )

TIMELINE → August 14th, 2021

SETTING → Lemon and Carter La Bouff’s 20th Birthday Party

SUMMARY → It’s the La Bouff twins’ 20th birthday party, and the speak-easy 20′s theme is perfection. Everything goes according to plan until Lemon has her first kiss during a party game of all things, and she and one of her oldest friends end up shoved in a closet so that, thankfully, the tears she sheds afterwards aren’t seen by the public. When you play a mashup of Suck N Blow and 7 Minutes in Heaven, anything can happen.

Fraser would've been excited to attend Lemon and Carter's birthday no matter what, but the speakeasy 20's theme had definitely been a huge draw; it gave him a great excuse to dress up in a plaid suit with a bowtie, suspenders, and even a hat, even though that last one didn't stay on for long. After all, the Macintosh hair was too beautiful to hide. It wasn't until a big circle of people signing up to play Suck N Seven Minutes started forming though that his jacket was also tossed to the side. He would've been surprised that something like a kissing game was happening at a party of the La Bouff's, but then again, the party had been advertised as debaucherous, so why not?

He shuffled into place along with everyone else, bumping shoulders with the birthday girl as he did so. She started off the game, facing away from Fraser and passing on the playing card to the player on her other side, and from there, one person to the next passed on the card using only their lips. This version had a fun twist, where whichever pair fumbled the card had to spend seven minutes in the nearest closet, doing whatever they wanted. Fraser couldn't help grinning as the game continued, his eyes scanning the circle excitedly to see who'd be the first two who dropped the ball. When it was some people halfway across the circle from them, he joined in with everyone else laughing or jeering as the two headed off to the aforementioned closet.

"I'm sure I'm like the millionth person to tell you this party is awesome," Fraser laughed, turning to Lemon to make some conversation while someone nearby counted down seven minutes. "How many more games like this are there going to be? Because I didn't exfoliate my lips for nothing."

As much as Lemon liked to believe that every party she and Carter had ever thrown were the most perfect events to ever be curated by “visionaries such as themselves”, she was absolutely certain that they all vastly paled in comparison to their 1920’s themed 20th birthday party. The La Bouffs had really splashed out on giving the twins the perfect vintage speakeasy experience right down to a live band playing modern music in the style of music from the 1920s and a bar that served real moonshine cocktails “for the guests over 21”.

Plus everyone was actually more than keen to go along with the recommended vibe of debaucherous, which was perfect considering Lemon had no intention on actually participating in any of the risque games she’d come up with to give the party that trashy great gatsby 2013-esque vibe herself. The closest she planned to actually participate was by sitting in the circle for Suck N Seven minutes and daintily sip bourbon from the fancy flask she’d bought to wear in the garter that had come with her glittering white flapper dress while everyone else did all the kissing and lord knows what else in the closet. She’d even specifically practiced the game enough times at home alone to ensure that she wouldn’t accidentally slip up and have to kiss anyone.

“More like the millionth and first person to tell be how great this party is, but feel free to say it more times.” Lemon said, dramatically flipping her hair over her shoulder as she jokingly basked in the praise. “There are a few more games coming. Do you have any one in particular you want to kiss tonight? I’m sure I could rig one of them to work out in your favor.”

"Am I also the millionth and first person to tell you how much this look suits you then?" Fraser tried again cheekily; it was true, Lemon in that dress with her hair flung over her shoulder was basically an art piece. "Because I thought I looked good but you somehow almost look as good as me. Kudos." Maybe by the end of her birthday, he'd tell her that she looked even better than him, but that felt unnecessarily kind, especially when the present he had brought her would probably put everyone else's to shame.

He considered her question for a few more moments, then shook his head. "Nah, not really. I'm an equal opportunity kisser. After all, luck works in mysterious ways. Everyone here deserves the chance. Thanks, though. What about you? Any games rigged in particular for the birthday girl? You can tell me, I can keep a secret," Fraser joked. He was pretty sure that the answer was no, but ribbing Lemon was always fun. It was definitely more fun than waiting for the seven minutes to be up.

“Probably! I do look like such an amuse-gueule, don’t I?” Lemon struck a couple of silly poses to showcase how great she looked before elbowing Fraser hard in the arm. “Dream on, Chere. There isn’t a person here tonight that could ever hope to outshine me and as cute as your bowtie is, you could never.”

Even though Lemon knew full well that Fraser knew her well enough to know that she’d never rig a game so she’d have to do anything with any of her party guests, she couldn’t help but meaningfully look over at Romeo Dubois and let out an exaggerated sigh. Despite having ice in his wine like the grossest trainwreck alive, Lemon really understood how Gatsby must’ve felt staring out at Daisy’s green light, so close but so far away from what he wanted the most. “You already know my biggest secret and unfortunately that’s something I can’t even rig.” Looking away from Romeo before she felt anything other than complete happiness over her success of a birthday party, Lemon pulled the flask out of her garter and took a sip before offering it to Fraser. “Want some?”

"I don't know what an amuse-guele is but if that means that you look like you showered today, sure," Fraser joked, underplaying how gorgeous his friend was partially for humor but also because compliments had to be worked for. When she elbowed him, he gripped his arm and let out an exaggerated "Ow!" and laughed to cover up the fact that it actually hurt a little bit. "Hey, don't damage the goods! I get that your beauty is feeling threatened but bruising me won't make me less awesome."

Fraser fought the urge to roll his eyes so hard at Lemon's theatrics that his eyes actually strained. He knew she had a crush on Romeo but that he didn't mean he liked it. The dude was weird and somehow let the fact that one of the coolest girls alive was into him just pass him by. "Yeah, well, it's his loss. Chalk it up to bad taste -- because seriously, who drinks wine with ice?" Fraser asked, his nose wrinkling.

He burst out into a smile at the sight of the flask and nodded. "Fuck yeah! Now it's a party!" Fraser wasn't sure what was in it but any alcohol was better than none. "Cheers to you, birthday girl! May no one make a baby in the closet of your party," he joked as he took a hearty sip and the door of the closet opened and the couple came back out, visibly rumpled.

“It’s french for party snack, you imbecile.” Lemon laughed, rolling her eyes in reaction to Fraser’s antics. “Must I remind you that denial is not only a river in Egypt. I could never feel threatened by you, but especially not tonight. Not even Snow White herself could convince me that I’m not the best looking person here.”

Lemon wrinkled her nose a little in distaste, because really who DID drink wine with ice in it? But refused to actually comment on the matter because in her opinion it was rather distasteful to secretly diss the one you love, no matter how bad his taste really was.

“Oh disgusting, don’t jinx my party!” Lemon squealed, snagging her flask back before realizing that the closet couple had come out and definitely had been doing more than just perusing the coats in there. Once the couple sat back down, the person that had dropped the card smugly passed it on to the next person and the game began again where they’d left off. Lemon elbowed Fraser one last time for good measure. “If someone gets knocked up in there, I’m directing them right to you to blame.”

"Don't call me an imbelice, ya dobber," Fraser laughed right back, shaking his head at her. He wanted to argue further, but the truth was that Snow White herself couldn't hold a candle to Lemon tonight, and it wasn't just her look. It was how excited she was for her party written all over her face. All he really could say was, "Historically, it'd be the Magic Mirror trying to convince you, not Queen White, but if you say so, birthday girl."

Fraser tried his hardest not to spit out any of the alcohol as the flask got snatched away, and his forehead crumpled in confusion. "Hey!" he blurted, swallowing hard. "You better let me get another sip later, that was actually pretty good shit." He fought the urge to elbow Lemon back, not wanting to leave the birthday girl bruised. "If someone gets knocked up in here, it's entirely a result of your debaucherous theme, not because of anything I did! If you direct them to me, I'm going to encourage them to name the baby Lemon. Luckily it works for whatever gender."

There was a close call between two party-goers with the card but with some crouching, they were able to keep the card going until it got closer to Fraser. He took it from the girl on one side of him and winked at her, and when she gave him a flirty face back, it made him think that maybe she was someone worth talking to after this game was over. After all, it was a party! It was the perfect time to talk to a new beautiful girl. He turned to Lemon with the card, but then a chuckle that was stuck in the back of his throat from flirting with the other girl disrupted the surface tension and he felt his top lip connect to Lemon's.

His eyes opened wide in surprise but as the card dropped, he let himself turn the lip touch into a slight smooch, because why not? It was a party! And it may have just been a peck but it sure was fun, especially as everybody ooooohed and awwwwed and pushed them to the closet, opening the door for them and slamming it shut, leaving them alone in near darkness.

“Don’t be an imbecile then.” Lemon responded breezily, waving away the semantics of his response away with another eyeroll and a flip of her hand. Fraser clearly knew what she meant so who cared if she hadn’t said it quite right.

Lemon grinned at Fraser’s protest when she took her flask back. She’d “borrowed” it from her grandfather’s personal stash and it was easily the most expensive and best tasting alcohol there. “The theme is not debauchery. The theme is 1920s speakeasy, the suggested vibe is debaucherous, there’s a difference. You’re the one actively speaking a baby into existence on them, so if you’re going to encourage them to name it Lemon, I’m going to tell them to make the middle name Strawberry. Then it’ll have all the correct acknowledgments attached to it and it’ll match.”

Lemon watched the game go around in amusement, at least until it got closer to her and the amusement turned into focused determination to not drop it on her turn. Luckily…or rather... Unluckily, she didn’t have a thing to worry about on her turn because instead of the cool touch of the card pressing against her lips, it was the warm lips of one of her oldest friends.

Lemon felt like her blood was turning to ice water in her veins as Fraser made it more of a kiss than just an itsy bitsy gross lip touch they could spend the next seven minutes in the closet giggling about. It was officially her first kiss and NOT the way it was supposed to go. After backing out of kissing Myles earlier in the year, Lemon had decided that her first kiss would be strictly reserved for the boy she actually loved and as much as she loved Fraser as a friend, he was simply not Romeo.

As soon as they got shoved in the closet Lemon had no idea what to do other than burst into tears. Not loudly in case anyone close could hear them but enough to make it more than clear to Fraser that absolutely nothing in the in the closet would be matching the aforementioned debaucherous party vibe.

"Lemon Strawberry. Sounds delicious... and like they'll be teased for the rest of their life," Fraser laughed, faux-shuddering at the very thought. "They might as well go by Strawberry Lemonade or something else that sounds like it's from a children's television show." He was probably thinking about it too much and he wondered if maybe they were talking a baby into existence; he decided that if they did, he wouldn't feel guilty. It'd just be further proof of how awesome he was, that he could make a baby without having to be physically involved at all.

Unfortunately for him, something was about to happen to make him feel solidly un-awesome. He didn't think a kiss between friends could possibly be a bad thing, especially when that friend was as cool as Lemon usually was, but by the time they got pushed into the closet, it was obvious that she didn't share that sentiment. She was crying like her husband had just gone off to war and it left him feeling too many things at the same time. There was concern, obviously, because if a friend was sobbing, any sane human would be concerned.

But more than that, there was annoyance and major insult that, all together, felt a lot like hurt. Fraser didn't spend a lot of his free time wondering what it'd be like kissing Lemon but once it happened, he figured it was something they'd enjoy, or at least be able to laugh about. He knew he wasn't her precious Romeo, but he also wasn't the short weird art kid from the Isle that she'd kissed already either, and from what he knew, she didn't weep when that one happened.

He was hoping something closer to the concerned end of his emotional spectrum would come out when he did finally get over the shock of her tears enough to talk, but what actually escaped him was something like "What the hell are you crying about?! You'd think I slapped you or something. It was just a kiss, Líomóid! It's kind of the whole point of the game! Get a grip." He didn't mean to sound so angry, but he felt rejected, and by someone he wasn't even out to get! The fun he'd been having with her at the party had died and was like a heavy beast was sitting in his chest now. Fraser turned away from her with crossed arms, not able to handle looking at her tears for one more second.

“I’m crying because you ruined my birthday!” Lemon yelled back, dramatically stomping her foot like a character in a movie to emphasize her point. What right did Fraser have to be angry at her for getting upset? It wasn’t his first kiss that had been thrown away in front of so many witnesses. It wasn’t his 20th birthday that would forever be tainted by losing a game she’d specifically come up with to make EVERYONE ELSE look kinda trashy. As far as Lemon was concerned, Fraser had won the freaking lottery, He’d gotten to kiss her!

Lemon used all her strength to turn Fraser back around to face her. “What are you, a five year old? You don’t get to turn around when I’m mad at you! I’m crying and it’s your fault because YOU couldn’t play a stupid game right, so now you have to look at me.”

He was glad to be facing away from her, because otherwise Lemon would've seen Fraser roll his eyes at her claiming he "ruined" her birthday. She still might've heard his huff, but to be fair, he wasn't trying to be quiet. She deserved to know she sounded ridiculous, and if she was going to stomp her little foot at him, then him huffing at her was more than called for. After all, what kind of party was made worse by kissing the hottest person in the room?

But then she tried to get his attention and got him to face her again and he couldn't hold in the annoyance any longer. "You're calling me a five year old?! Seriously?! You're the one sobbing because, what, you accidentally kissed the best guy at the party? The only reason anyone should be kissing after kissing me is because they didn't get to kiss me longer, so get over yourself. It was just a stupid game and you're the one deciding to cry about it, not me, so no, I don't want to look at you. In fact ---"

Fraser cut himself off and moved towards Lemon, picking her up and spinning them around so she was facing away. "Now just stay there for the rest of the seven minutes, fuck."

Lemon let out a loud scream of rage when Fraser picked her up and faced her away like SHE was the one acting like a poorly behaved toddler now. She turned right back around and put her hands on her hips angrily. “Quit it! You’re not the best boy here by a LOOONG shot! If anything you’re the WORST boy here and I couldn’t have gotten stuck with a worse first kiss if I TRIED! And considering the applications I got in January, that’s saying a LOT and that’s why I’m crying. Because You’re the worst!” Then because Lemon couldn’t think of a better way to end it, she turned right back around and crossed her own arms this time.

Fraser hadn't been expecting her to yell but people yelled plenty back home in his part of Dunbroch, and yelling back was how someone showed that they weren't backing down, which he wasn't, so he yelled back and didn't stop until she did. He was way too fired up to just roll over and take her weird ass breakdown, because he hadn't done anything wrong, so when she turned back around, he rolled up his sleeves, ready to roll with whatever dumb punches she dropped. Saying he was the worst was a terrible start on her part, because if there was one thing Fraser knew with all his heart, it was that he was truly the best at everything, kissing included. The more she prattled on, though, the more things started making sense.

"UGH!" he groaned, walking around Lemon so his back was against the closet wall and he could face her again without spinning her around. "What are you saying? That you, what, didn't kiss the short art kid?" The anger on his face dissipated for a moment as he took in the fact that Lemon lost her first kiss at a party, during a dumb game, which definitely wasn't on brand for her. But then he realized that she was disappointed about him as a first kiss when he was clearly a better option than anyone else she could find, and his forehead creased again. "I'm sorry your first kiss wasn't how you wanted it to go but I didn't know it was your first! And it's not my fault that you lied about that! And I know I should apologize, but I'm a hundred percent an upgrade to that guy, or any other guy who applied to your weird kiss resume thing! So just... quit crying, okay? Please?"

He let out a sigh and his shoulders crumbled forward. "It was just a game anyway. A lot of people don't even count games, so we could just say it doesn't count. Besides, it's not like I gave you a real kiss anyway."

“Yes! Obviously I didn’t kiss Myles. Why would I ever be this upset if I had kissed someone before!” Admittedly Lemon probably still would’ve cried in the closet if she’d kissed ten boys before this. She hated doing anything that she didn’t have written down to the minute in her planner. But still. “I know you didn’t know but that still doesn’t give you the right to yell at me for crying! I’m upset and you’re screaming at me! How am I supposed to stop crying!”

Lemon sniffled hard, actually attempting to stop crying but at this point it was too late and her tears weren’t going to be stopping for a minute. She really hoped it would at least be before it was time to come out of the closet, luckily after years of watching her mother look like an absolute lunatic after crying jags Lemon had always made it a point to only buy waterproof eyeliner and mascara, so if she could get it together she probably wouldn’t look that wrecked when they left. “It was a game but I count games and so do a lot of other people so it counts to me. Lips touching like that is totally a real kiss, what are you talking about?”

Fraser snorted at the 'obviously', not feeling the need to point out once again that she'd lied about her whole insane kiss application thing and thus it wasn't 'obvious' at all. "I don't know, you're asking me to make sense out of a crazy woman's brain!" She did have a point though and so Fraser let out a heavy sigh, shaking his head. "Fine, fine, whatever, consider my screaming done. It's just..." He didn't know how to tell her how insulted he really was, so he just didn't. He let himself trail off and kept shaking his head, not sure what to say.

Besides, seeing Lemon all sniffly and sad did kind of send a solid, genuine pang of regret through him. He kind of wished he could go back and change what happened, but for all he knew, Lemon would've gotten upset and counted it as a kiss no matter what, just because it wasn't what she'd expected. "It's the people who don't kiss people outside of games who count them," he tried, his tone way softer than it'd been a minute ago. "Once you're out there in the real world, kissing the actual guy you want to be kissing, you'll realize this one didn't count at all. It can be erased from history then."

He couldn't help but crack a little bit of a smile at her last question and he shrugged a shoulder. "Lips touching is just lips touching; you wouldn't call hands brushing past each other 'holding hands', would you? Kissing is more than a brief graze. I mean, we weren't even touching each other anywhere, and we were standing way too far apart. A real kiss would've left you swooning, not crying. Especially if it was from me." He paused but then curiosity overcame him. "But uh, why didn't you kiss Myles? You did that whole application thing presumably to avoid situations like this and then you just... didn't?"

“I’m not crazy!” Lemon huffed, stomping her foot again. If she hadn’t been so genuinely offended by the insult she might have gotten smug about Fraser backing down from yelling at her, but at this point she felt like it was the least he could do to still be able to be called one of her best friends by the end of the night.

Once Fraser softened his tone for her, Lemon genuinely tried to actually listen to him and maybe believe what he was saying. But she still wasn’t buying it, especially when he insisted that if it was a real kiss from him she would’ve been swooning but that was more best friend exclusive pettiness than an knock on his skills of persuasion.

“It just didn’t feel right. I don’t know?” She shrugged, briefly glancing around the closet to see if there was something she could dry her face with before giving up and delicately using the side of her finger to try and dab some of her tears away. “It was like how none of my plays have been working lately. I planned it all out so perfectly and got so close to getting it done exactly the way I wanted it, but I like knew it still wasn’t actually right so I didn’t actually end up going through with it. Plus he really is kind of short so it felt a little stupid too. But don’t tell anyone I told you or it’ll make Romeo’s height difference kink sound valid.”

Fraser raised his brows at Lemon's huffing, as if she was just proving his point about the craziness, but he didn't delve into that deeper. He didn't think he needed to, especially since he got the feeling that he'd hurt her feelings with that comment and he'd done enough damage that night as was, even though he still refused to think of the kiss thing as his fault. In any other circumstances, Lemon kissing him wouldn't be a bad thing for either of them, and he was sure of that, even though they'd obviously never prove it one way or another.

He noticed her looking for something to wipe her tears on and he sighed, pulling a handkerchief out of his pants pocket and handing it to her wordlessly. It was the one he'd had in his jacket pocket earlier and he'd wanted to hold onto it, although he hadn't anticipated it'd be for this reason. He really did feel bad for Lemon the more she explained. It was the curse of the perfectionist, and that was a curse he understood well. She got him to laugh a little bit with that last comment though and he shook his head through the chuckle.

"Don't worry, that secret dies with me, mostly because height difference kinks are stupid in the first place. Men who need height to feel like a 'man' next to their woman are wildly insecure." Fraser cleared his throat and smiled awkwardly, shoving his hands into his pockets. "I'm sorry that your plans aren't as perfect in execution as they are in your head, both writing plans and kissing plans. That's what happens when your brain is better than the real world. Do you want... a hug?" Offering that felt a little weird but he also wasn't sure how else to comfort her and they probably had a few minutes left locked together in this torture chamber anyway.

Lemon gratefully took Fraser’s handkerchief with a small watery smile and dried her eyes as much as she could without rubbing them before folding it and awkwardly keeping it in her hand since she wasn’t sure what else she was supposed to do with it because handing it back seemed a little gross.

Lemon didn’t mean to laugh at Fraser’s response to her comment about Romeo’s height kink since she WAS in love with him and still kind of upset but a small giggle slipped out anyway since it was exactly the same thing she’d thought about it but had been mostly too nice to say. “You’re so right.” Lemon agreed before lifting an eyebrow at Fraser’s slight pause before the word hug. In a moment of either genius or insanity an idea popped into Lemon’s head in a flash. She pulled her flask out of her garter once more and took a big mouthful of the bourbon she’d only been using for sipping thus far before passing it over to Fraser. “Actually could you kiss me? Like for real this time? Well not for real real, but you know party real?”

The tension in the closet didn't disappear immediately at Lemon's giggle but it definitely dissipated enough for Fraser to take a small sigh of relief. So long as he hadn't totally ruined her night, or their friendship, they could make it through the rest of the party. "I'm almost always right," he added with a half-smile, glad she wasn't above admitting Romeo's 'you must be this short to ride this prince' thing wasn't weird. He'd never expect her to flat out badmouth the dude, but laughing at him was a good bonding moment, as was sharing a drink. Fraser took the flask grateful and raised it in tandem with his eyebrows before taking a big gulp.

The bourbon was still in his mouth when Lemon asked for a kiss and before he could perform a spit take which would be extra disgusting given their enclosed status, Fraser took a hard gulp to make sure all the liquid went down. "You've got to be shitting me," he said, shaking his head. "I mean, this is some sort of weird trick, right? Because your face is still slightly damp from me party kissing you before and I don't want to give you an excuse to hate me for longer than necessary." He expected her to burst out laughing, or admit it was a strange joke on her part making fun of him for wanting a hug or for fucking up so badly in the first place. It was the only reality that made sense, although his lips absentmindedly rubbed together for moisture as if his brain was preparing him for the slim to none chance that she was actually asking for what it sounded like she'd said.

Lemon’s nose scrunched up slightly in response to the rejection, she had of course expected it since it WAS a really strange thing to ask after the hissy fit she’d thrown barely minutes before hand. But their time in the closet was running out and now that she’d decided she wanted to do it, she wanted it done as soon as possible. “No, It’s not a trick! I mean it!” She insisted, using his handkerchief again to try and make her face less damp from crying. “You already got my first party kiss that may or may not have counted, so you might as well get the real one while we’re here?”

Fraser eyed Lemon suspiciously, his eyebrows furrowed as he tried to figure out whether or not he could trust Lemon's sudden shift. He didn't think she'd take it this far if it was a joke, but he also had a hard time believing she suddenly deemed him worthy when just a few seconds ago kissing him had been some sort of nightmare. The more he thought about it though, the more sense it made; after all, he knew he was better than just about any other guy she could find for this, and she already felt like she'd lost her first kiss...

The second he decided to take her up on her offer, he sighed, hoping it wasn't just the bourbon that made them both think this wasn't a bad idea. "Fine, fine, if it'll get you to shut up," he said, half-grumbling as if she'd asked him to do something far more tedious than kiss a beautiful girl. Before she could really say anything back to that, he took her cheeks into his hands and brought their faces together, some force behind it as he hastened to make sure this actually happened. Once they were in each other's space, he let his more experienced lips guide hers through an actual kiss, the kind he was sure girls wrote home about when they were lucky enough that it happened to them.

Lemon was all ready to tell Fraser that he didn’t have to kiss her if he was going to be a little bitch about it, but before she could even open her mouth it was already a little busy being kissed. Wide eyed, she instinctively wanted to push him back just for being so rushed about it, but she managed to resist the urge for long enough to realize that maybe it was for the best. She’d already backed out of one of her grand kiss schemes before, it would be even more embarrassing if she had the freedom to chicken out of the second one too. And even though she wasn’t at all sure what made someone a good or bad kisser, she could at least tell that it wasn’t an entirely unpleasant experience and a few seconds into it, managed to relax enough to close her eyes and just let it happen without trying to take control as she was wont to do with anything else in life.

Fraser's eyes had closed as soon as his lips had made contact with Lemon's, but he could still feel the hesitancy on her part. He wasn't one to pull back or quit though, especially not when he was doing this at her request in the first place, and when that hesitancy passed, it was almost like a sense of calm took its place. It was a calm that, ironically, excited him to his core, the kind of calm that, in his experience, only came with the really good kisses.

He was so used to Lemon fighting with him for the heck of it that it was weird that this felt so normal now, and he pushed some of her hair back as he deepened the kiss, lingering as long as he could and only pulling back when he needed some air.

"There. Happy now?" The snappiness he wanted in that comment was diminished significantly by the smile he didn't even realize he had on and the fact that he sounded a bit breathless, but beneath the sarcasm, he really hoped Lemon had gotten what she'd wanted out of that. If she hadn't, he'd actually maybe feel a little guilty, because he'd sure enjoyed it.

Lemon was surprised at herself when the first thing she wanted to do when Fraser finally pulled away was POUT. It was a good kiss and kind of left her feeling a little dazed but was it good enough to allow Fraser to get a big head about and let him lord over her for the absolute rest of their lives? Not really!

Putting on her best unimpressed look, Lemon shrugged casually. “I mean, I guess I am. I’m not exactly swooning but if that’s what gets em going, okay.” She knew she was being a jerk by pretending that she hadn’t been at all moved by the kiss. But with the way she and Fraser generally operated, anything other than forcing herself to burst into tears again was absolutely unacceptable. “Merci beaucoup, for helping me get that out of the way, I guess.”

Fraser wasn't waiting for a swoon necessarily -- swooning at a kiss that happened in a closet of all places was so far from Lemon's brand that even he couldn't take it personally if she didn't -- but he was waiting for some sort of reaction to let him know she'd liked that as much as he did. It didn't feel particularly conceited to think of himself as a good kisser. After all, he'd gotten plenty of positive feedback in his day. However, when all he got in response was a shrug and an "I guess", that same feeling of rejection from when Lemon had originally burst into tears prickled around him like a particularly itchy sweater.

He shoved that down though, like one might shove down an adverse reaction to a particularly itchy sweater if it was a gift from a loved one, and just rolled his eyes at her. "It works on normal girls, so I guess I should've seen this coming," he shot back. "But yeah, yeah, you're welcome. Maybe now the next time you kiss someone, you won't turn into a freaking water park. In fact, let the next guy know he should send me a fruit basket as thanks." He smiled despite himself, clearing his throat as he heard a countdown starting on the other side of the door, probably marking down the time they had left in the closet.

Lemon rolled her eyes at the normal girls comment but smiled back at Fraser anyway. “I’ll be sure to let the next guy know.” Obviously Lemon was certain that the next guy would be her beloved Romeo, a theory that warmed her heart so much that before the count got too far down, she wrapped her arms around Fraser in a tight embrace.

“I do really appreciate you for kissing me again even though I cried and it doesn’t count. You’re such a good best friend to me.” Lemon admitted, pressing her cheek into his as she let all of her words come out in one big rushed blur to make up for how genuinely she meant it. Then she strategically waited until the countdown was done and the door opened before letting Fraser go, just so it looked like they’d been doing more than screaming at each other for most of the past seven minutes.

The hug that he'd originally asked for finally came and it nearly caught him off guard with how quickly it came to him but luckily Fraser caught Lemon in his arms in time and squeezed back. Them being the same height meant they were face to face again, in a much different way than a few moments ago though, cheek to cheek, and Lemon's words reached him quickly, privately, and unexpectedly earnestly. It made a weird lump form in his throat that he wouldn't be able to explain even if he tried.

"You're a good best friend too," he confessed in a near-whisper, as if saying it too loudly would make up for the fact that he didn't say 'I know' or something else like that. He wanted to add a cutting and inaccurate comment like 'even though you're a shit kisser' but not as much as he wanted to just stay in that moment a few seconds more, and then the door was open and he let go of her with a grin as they made their way back into the fray.

#para #lemon #para: lemon #lemonlabouff #para: it's my party and i'll cry if i want to

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nostalgic-pancakes · 4 years ago

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Watching the starlings as autumn draws in

Summary: Tommy and his friends try on some skirts, and he reflects a bit on how they all got here. (It's a happy story) Title from September by Sparky Deathcap

Pairings: None! Platonic everyone (esp in irl fics_)

Read on AO3 (preferred place to read)

Word count: 2570

Warnings: None, except for surface-level references to the exile/prison arcs, but not much.

Other notes: I wrote this in a fit of madness last night in like three hours at 2 am, so i’ll probably edit it honestly but for now, enjoy! (If the CC’s ever display discomfort with this type of fic I will take it down)

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"WELCOME BACK TO THE STREAM, BOYS!" Tommy exclaims, rubbing his hands together as he starts rapid-fire answering questions about the stream, and the stream title from chat. It's funny, how over time, Tommy's come to see Chat as this one entity- an old friend. The nervousness of answering questions as a fifteen year old with nothing but a big personality, a twitch account and a copy of Minecraft is all but gone now, nineteen years old and happier than he's ever been.

Dreadfulzombie19: what are u doin this stream

"THANK YOU FOR ASKING, Dreadfulzombie19, today is gonna be a bit different, innit Tubbo?" Tommy raises his voice a bit at the end of his sentence, just loud enough for one of his flatmates to hear him. When Tubbo yells back an affirmative, Tommy turns back to his setup. Chat's gone a bit wild again, even though he, Tubbo and Ranboo have been living together for over a year now.

"Okay, okay, calm down chat- so recently I was at university, as usual right? And I had an eight AM class again, and… yeah I can see you all can relate."

"BUT! BUT! On my way back to the flat, I saw something really cool." Tommy hesitates in his speech to take a sip of coke again- his blood pressure's been acting up lately and watches Chat to wild again, asking him what he saw.

"Okay, so there was a shop- new place, which doesn't happen often this is fucking Brighton- and they sold skirts and dresses and stuff with adjustments for AMAB sizes!" Chat goes a bit bonkers, but Tommy's mod team- a little smaller than it used to be, now that he isn't the centre of YouTube or Twitch attention anymore, none of them are- are handling it, and pretty well.

"So I had to go, right? As many of you probably know, last year, I made the astounding discovery that gender-based stereotypes and expectations are, in fact, fake and I should not give a SHIT. And so I go in and look through the stuff- it's a really poggers shop by the way, and I find the perfect thing- it was the most poggers skirts and shit, okay? So, today's stream is going to have me wearing this pogchamp shit and wearing it right, with the help of…" Tommy ends his monologue by picking up the joke shaker-things that Phil had gotten him as a housewarming gift last year and indicates for his first two helpers to enter the office.

In walks his mother, face obscured from view as always, waving to the camera, and Wilbur, also wearing one of his only skirts for this occasion. Eret had taught him, on a phonecall in the skirt shop that week about the different types of skirts with a handy diagram. Wilbur's was a pleated circle skirt, brown to offset the bright yellow of his sweater and beanie, the same colour as his hair. It's very swoosh-y, so he's wearing black leggings with his regular shoes too. Motherinnit's also wearing her favourite skirt, a baby blue prairie skirt, Tommy thinks, and it's one he's seen fairly often.

Wilbur ducks down in order to show his face to Chat, and ruffles Tommy's hair while he's at it. Tommy's taller, but not by much, so Wilbur still fucking makes short jokes, That fucker.

Chat is now going so fast that he simply cannot read anything but some of the all caps messages and can barely make out some of the emotes.

"Okay, OKAY, CALM DOWN CHAT! WE HAVE TO GET TO FUCKING BUSINESS!" Tommy yells into the mix, like he did when he was sixteen and used the 'many people find me annoying at first' intro. Nowadays he just lets the content speak for itself. Anyone who wants to be here already is, by now.

Wilbur laughs a bit, and that hasn't changed at all. "Tommy, how is chat supposed to calm down if you're not calm?"

"I am their god!! They will obey via sheer digital willpower!" Tommy replies back, pretty zealously (What? An English Literature class is mandatory for his film degree, and The Great Gatsby by Zelda Fitzgerald is a good book, as are most of the other assigned ones. He's had entire conversations with Techno with just lit quotes and it drives everyone insane. Tommy loves it.) Chat seemingly has listened to his godlike abilities, with a few OG's spotting his half-quotation of one of Dream's last lines in the Dream SMP. The rest are spamming 'MOTHERINNIT'.

"If having a shitty magic trick book from a washed-up politician makes you a god, then what does that make me?" Wilbur replies, with one of Foolish's lines and swatting his hand at Tommy. Tommy swats back.

"Bitch" "Arsehole" "Shithead" "Fuckface" Wilbur finishes cheerily, as if this happens all the time. It does. Chat's used their antics now, four years of consistently making content together will do that for you.

Eventually Motherinnit reminds them both to get back on Topic, and Tommy goes back to facing the camera, addressing Chat directly.

"Today, my beloved mother, and my idiot brother-" "hey!" "And maybe my flatmates will be joining me to show off some cool as SHIT skirts! And a dress or two. We all have our selections, right?" Everyone nods in affirmative, even Tubbo and Ranboo. Though the camera can't see them. Ranboo's just come home from his final class, then. He should probably take the first hour back off, and judging by how Tubbo is forcefully judging Ranboo to the shower, he probably gets it. Tommy signs an affirmative to both of them, and gets back to the camera, where Wilbur's showing off all of his (very poggers) very stupid brown or yellow skirts. Tommy's are in cool colours, for fuck's sake.

"Oh yeah, Puffy just confirmed she'll be on stream! She'll be here in about twenty minutes, accounting for fucking traffic, and Niki' going to get onto VC after her own stream, what game is it this time?"

"GRIS." Wilbur answers.

"Poggers- she is the SHIT and will join us soon! So expect some QUALITY QUALITY content this stream!! Remember to not spam her chat to finish faster." Exclaims Tommy, even if it ends up as a light warning, as he picks up his own very poggers skirts from the extra armchair in his office to show the camera.

One is the classic red and white, mostly white but with bright red on the waist (elastic) and the bottom, and it reached to about Tommy's knee, if worn at the hip. It had no pleats, but the red bits were a very nice velvet texture, and while the skirt was heavy, it still had very much swoosh value, and pockets!! Big ones!! He slips the skirt on top of his jeans before entering camera view, the skirt visible in all its classic Tommyinnit glory, as he takes his place right next to Wilbur, who just took. a quick spin at the behest of several dono's., Skirt spying out from his lower shins all the way to his knee, making visible one of his (many) petticoats. ("What? It's cold all the fucking time here, Toms.") Tommy also makes a quick little spin, skirt flying outward, not upward, so it looks like he's hula hooping for a moment there. Lastly, Motherinnit spins around too, and while her skirts do not swoosh, she looks opulent, like she was about to go to waltz with the enemy, for whom she has a dagger in the back of her dress for. (He finished Anna Karenina and the Six of Crows duology within the same week and has not yet recovered. Jack Edwards is laughing at him as he thinks in his English Lit Graduate glory.)

It's fun, trying on different skirts- he and Wilbur accidentally bought the same dress at one point, which they paired up to wear, darting off into their respective changing rooms while giggling like idiots with their checkered blouses and the grindl skirts that Niki had sent over when she heard of this stream idea, laughing the whole time. Tubbo enters as dramatically as possible with Puffy, and while Tubbo looks really fucking good in his handkerchief skirt with embroidered bees and plain white shirt, it's Puffy who steals the show with an exact, real life version of her red banquet dress.

Fans from way back in the SMP, before Tommy had started branching out start going insane and are bringing back emotes Tommy wasn't sure were still available, but she is fucking stunning- deep shades of red and crimson, with slits on either side of her waist and all the detailing. She'd gotten the contact for her dressmaker through Bernadette Banner, Tommy recalls- she was so fucking cool when she streamed with him once, and gotten him to swear less and supplant those world's with bigger ones to intimidate instead. While he still curses like a sailor as part of his persona, it's less so and he does way less in real life these days, unless the situation calls for it. It's also just rude, especially in uni libraries, where he spends too much time these days wondering why he didn't read more as a kid.

Puffy's stolen his audience for a WHILE, and Niki coming on hasn't helped any, so Tommy exits camera view for a while to hug Ranboo really quickly- he's had midterms and has basically been dying all month.

Everyone on this stream- Tommy, Wilbur, Motherinnit, Tubbo, Puffy, Niki and Ranboo enter the camera frame after entering their dressing rooms for the last time on this particular stream, Puffy with full in-character wigs and makeup, Tommy in an Edwardian-Gothic reminiscent black and red dress, Ranboo in something he bought when he gap-yeared in Japan, punk lolita or something, Niki flaunting her pink in a Marie Antoinette style show of finery, Tubbo dressing in all green this time, something like a very deranged biology teacher who hasn't slept in days (Tubbo hasn't-Tommy has to get into that), Wilbur like a forest-nymph, all earthy tones and swishy fabrics and nature highlights, and finally Motherinnit, who hasn't changed but is here to take pictures as they all lean in together to fit into frame, as drastic as their height difference is. Niki is going to be edited in later, and everyone on the 'Dream SMP but nobody does Dream SMP and we're all fucking nerds' discord server is going to get a copy.

The stream wraps up there, after about two hours, and it's only about six in the evening- a far cry from the late nights and long hours from the beginning of Tommy's career, so everyone runs to their changing areas for the last time, into pajamas now, and packs away all of the clothes they wore, properly, as to not incense Karolina Zebrowska, and Jemma, Dan's wife, who would look at them disappointedly and nobody wants a sad Jemma because that means no cooing at their son. Also it just feels shitty.

Everyone huddles in Tommy, Tubbo and Ranboo's living room, and they out on UP for like, the millionth fucking time (they still cry when Ellie dies), and Tommy is leaning into Wilbur's side and feeling his mum play with the hair in his very small, stubby ponytail he's developed by being in Uni as he and Tubbo intertwine their legs together and Ranboo rests his head in the tangle of limbs, playing with his fidget cube. Puffy stays on Wilbur's side, intently texting someone and smiling the whole while, and Tommy takes a moment to reflect (something he's been getting better at doing) on how the actual hell they all got here.

The Dream SMP was always going to end- everyone knew it, if course, they were the fucking writers. But by the time they did, not only were their respective brands too closely intertwined to just… sever that quickly, but they'd become too close to even want to. So the SMP discord never shut, even though Dream and George had planned it months ago, and they continued supporting each other with their interests. Wilbur made a lot more music solo, with his band and even just random ass streams where he practiced guitar for an hour. He kept playing Minecraft, but it wasn't his main focus. A bunch of people left. More stayed. YouTube left him alone.

Dream, George and Sapnap are still Minecraft streamers, but their YouTube channels are mostly blogs of them being poor excuses of adults with other former SMP members joining in sometimes. Tommy and the Dream Team were closer than ever, even though the seeds of their friendship had been sowed when they used to linger after heavy streams together, reassuring each other that none of that was true and that nothing like… that would happen in real life, because Dream had used real abuse tactics, and those still hurt unless immediately taken care of. So they were. It was a running joke that Dream was stuck at 99 million subscribers since nobody really wanted the face reveal anymore. The other Dream team members were doing peachy.

Phil and Techno were also still primarily Minecraft streamers, but they also released things like advice videos and mental health stuff, especially for relationships. They had a new scripted series where Tommy was a minor character. The dadza jokes were still as real, and yes, outside of streaming, both of them were lovely people and responsible adults (mostly). They collaborated with DanTDM and co a lot more now.

Puffy and Niki kept doing games, but did lots of different ones, testing point and clickers to triple A titles, and making it all fucking hilarious while they were at it.

So where had that left Tommy?

After the Dream SMP, he'd kind of had no idea what to do, and he was going to University for the first time, so he just… did whatever he thought would be fun. He learned about vintage fashion from the queens themselves- Mina Le, Bernadette Banner and Karolina Zebrowska and had fun learning how to sew for the first time, fixing and making his own clothes for the first time, clunky as they were, Wilbur had cried, genuinely, when he saw the Lovejoy shirts that Tommy had made for the band. He'd found a genuine love for literature in university, so Tommy started talking to booktubers and studytubers like Jack Edwards and Noelle Stevenson. Tubbo and Ranboo had joined him, fucking around in any YouTube niche they found even remotely interesting. Eventually, they all found a happy medium- a bit of everything.

Some people obviously weren't happy with that but Tommy was happy as he was, making what he liked with his best friend's, living together close enough to most of their friends (family) to have fun and drop in on one another at ass-o-clock in the morning to comfort, to laugh. His sub count hasn't gone up in a while- most of his audience is static, with about 80-90k online on a stream at any time.p

It was a nice feeling, to have carved out a space for himself and the people he loves, and be is so, so glad that he got this chance.

Looking at his mostly asleep family, Tommy thinks 'yeah. Life is good.' as the last thought before he sleeps.

#dream smp #mcyt #irl fic #tommyinnit #wilbur soot #tubbo #nihachu #ranboo #vee's writing #2021

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