Story: “In The Lost Artefact, Lara learns of the existence of a fifth meteorite artifact called the Hand of Rathmore. She begins her investigations at the castle of Dr. Willard in the Scottish highlands, progresses to exploring the Channel Tunnel in Dover and then ultimately ends up in the catacombs of Paris, where she is confronted by Sophia Leigh.” This is pretty much a sequel to the main game.
Gameplay: I have reviewed most Core Design Tomb Raider games, so you know what to expect from here. This expansion has the same moves as the main of it, Tomb Raider 3. All the moves and weapons are pretty much the same.
Graphics: all the levels look absolutely gorgeous. I was impressed with some of the levels, specially the Madhouse one. The amount of incredible scenery on it was breath taking for me.
Soundtrack: it’s the same soundtrack as Tomb Raider 3. However, in the final 2 levels, expect some Jumpscares, with the sound.
Final Thoughts: if you want more Tomb Raider 3 in your life, then this expansion is perfect for you. I’m a fan of it, and it’s even my 2nd favorite Tomb Raider of all time. However, this expansion is extremely small, even if you collect the secrets (which are pretty easy to find, for the most part). Still, it’s a fun little game, and I will give it a 9 out of 10.
PS: I do not own the footage of these gifs. The content of these gifs are from a Youtube video. Click HERE, if you want to check out the source.
And then I see her. She walks out in a little red dress, wearing black heels that I’ve never seen before.
All of a sudden, I get a vision. A vision of her walking down the isle, looking gorgeous enough to make me cry. A vision of her holding our baby, looking happy enough to explode. A vision of us growing old together. Now I know, I have to propose to her–before someone else does.
I wrote to you before about an experience and thought I would share another with you.
I had unique experience in my 20’s and it really changed my life. I was seeing this chick, Zoe, that was pretty wild and out there with some serious kinks and a more than a bit of a drinking and drug habit.
We had done a few wild things and she had talked about doing a lot more – but I always thought it was more talk you know.
One night she had been out for the night at the club and about 2am she came over and let herself in to my apartment. The next thing I knew she was in my bed waking my ass up – she was clearly drunk and maybe a bit high and said she had a treat with her … I started to get up and she told me to wait then went back to the living room and moments later returned with this tall gorgeous woman all decked out in heels and mini skirt – she was exotic looking with long black hair and was pretty hot from what I could see in the semi dark bed room.
I asked what was going on and Zoe said she wanted to have a threesome. That got me fully awake and I said sure I guess and Zoe introduced me to Ginger.
Ginger had a bit of a husky voice when she said hello but Zoe went and started kissing her and unzipped her skirt which fell revealing stockings and this hard panty clad ass. Zoe and her fell onto the bed making out pretty heavy and I sat back and watched some – getting harder and harder as I watched and followed Zoe as she slowly stripped off her clothes as did Ginger who had these small pert tits.
Zoe pulled me over to them and I kissed my girlfriend feeling Ginger’s hands on me and then Zoe pushed me toward Ginger knowing I probably would not have tried without her encouraging me – Ginger and I kissed deeply and I felt hands on my cock. I saw Zoe slide down and start pulling Ginger’s panties off – Ginger suddenly watched me closely as her panties fell away and a very hard and decent sized penis sprang out. I jumped back as Zoe giggled and started sucking her … I looked at Ginger and again at Zoe then Ginger leaned down and literally swallowed my hard cock to the base.
I was almost hyperventilating at this point – nothing like this had ever crossed my mind – I did not know what to think really but damn if Ginger could not suck really good cock.
We did a lot of firsts that night – including sucking my first cock and tasting cum for the first time … we had a few more experiences with Ginger and Zoe and I stayed together for another year or so before shit just got too much with her but it was a night that opened my eyes and certainly changed my perspective on things and on sexuality and ultimately my life.
All other husbands have to step up their game. I AM PUTTING YOU ALL ON NOTICE.
Because this is what Werepenguin just gave me. He saw the commission that the amazingly-sweet and wonderfully-talented @yliseryn did for me of Allura in my wedding dress, and this idea began to form in his mind.
And this? This isn’t just Allura in my wedding dress. It’s Shiro in Werepenguin’s suit & tie. That’s OUR cake with OUR cake topper. And then Louise, being the utter sweetheart she is, added the b&w images. And then Werepenguin asked her for color versions of THOSE.
And, on top of all of this, I now have a 20x30 METAL PRINT of that top image that I can hang in our home so everyone can see it. Because this is how happy the memory of our wedding day makes him, even 8 years out. (Well, almost 8 years; he gave this to me as an early anniversary present because he couldn’t stand to sit on it any longer.)
I cried when he gave it to me. I’m crying a bit now. I married the most wonderful man and he is absolutely the best thing in my life and if there’s anything that proves that it’s that I cannot come up with the words to describe how I feel.
* getting flowers for every holiday. every.one. * so. many. herbs. (honestly like a big ass cupboard) * going crystal shopping together (and spending too much money and time there) (imagine my dad crying in the corner) * flowers in every room in the house. every. * so many rose quartz stones (because i’m born in may) * our house is filled with candles * drawing a protective sigil over our door every new years evening * “i accidentally spent 300€ at the florists and im not even regretting it.” (actual quote) * cutting my hair only at new moon * going to medieval festivals because they are hella cool * with like proper outfit and shit * no idea for a present? herbs. * or plants. * or candles. * bonus points if they are colour coordinated * celebrating samhain, ostara etc * living for the autumn season * convincing my dad that “yes we need that cat. totally.” * srsly how is he not going crazy * explaining my friends it’s not weed, it’s sage. * cleaning spells while cleaning the house * discussing herbs for spells in shops and earning weird stares * huge ass, gorgeous garden * “go water the flowers.” * “go mow the lawn.” * “don’t discuss with the mother witch.” * she sends me videos at 3am how to cut the cherry tree. why. i cry. * water bottles out of glass with energising crystals on the ground * her grimoire is so beautiful * like srsly her handwriting has me crying.
but most important: knowing that whenever id wanted to stop being a part of all this, it would have been okay. my dad is not a witch, and that’s okay. for me witchcraft is just a part of my life and i love it and am proud to have a witch mom ♥️
*shyly whispers* do u think u could do another Greek Mythology story~
“Your tapestries are so
fine,” the merchant says in wonder, “that you must be blessed by the goddess
Arachne tosses her
head, braided hair falling over her shoulder like an obsidian waterfall,
“What’s Athena got to do with it? My hands wove these, not hers.”
The merchant blanches
and looks to the sky, as if expecting Zeus himself to smite them for blasphemy.
Personally, she thinks the king of the gods has better thing to do with his
time. “Ah,” he says weakly, “I suppose.”
He pays her for her
wares and she leaves, almost immediately bumping into a hunched old woman with
grey eyes. “Do you not owe Athena thanks for your talent?” she croaks, gnarled
hands curled over a cane.
Arachne is not stupid,
but she is foolish. They will tell tales of it. She looks into those grey eyes
and declares, “Athena should thank me,
since my talents earn her so much praise.”
She pushes past her and
keeps walking, ignoring the goddess in humans skin as she disappears into the
They will tell tales of
her hubris. They will all be true.
The next day she bumps
into the same old woman at the market. Everything goes downhill from there.
“Know your place,
mortal,” Athena says, grey eyes narrowed. There is a crowd around them, and
Arachne could save herself, could walk away unscathed, and all she has to do is
say her weaving is inferior to that of a goddess.
She will not lie.
“I do,” she says
coolly, “and in this matter, it is above you.”
She is not honest as a
virtue, but as a vice.
Athena challengers her
to a weaving contest. She accepts.
Gods are not so hard to
find, if you know where to look.
“It’s a volcano,” the
baker repeats, looking down at her coins, as if he feels guilty for taking
money from someone who’s clearly not all there.
She grabs her bag of
sweet breads and adds it to her pack before swinging it over her shoulders,
“Yes, I know. Half a day’s walk, you said?”
“A volcano,” he insists, as if she did not hear him perfectly well the
first dozen times.
“Thank you for your
help,” she says. He’s shaking his head at her, but she knows what she’s doing.
She walks. She grows
hungry, but does not touch the bread she paid for, and walks some more. The
sun’s begun to set by the time she makes it to the base of the volcano. It’s
tall, impossibly large, and for a moment the promise of defeat threatens to
But Arachne does not
believe in defeat, in loss. They will tell tales of her hubris. Those tales
will be true.
She ties a scarf around
her braids then hikes her skirt up and ties the material so it falls only to
her thighs. She fits work roughened hands into the divots of cooled magma and
begins her slow ascent.
The muscles in her legs
and arms shake, and her hunger pains are almost as distracting. Her once white
dress is dirt smeared and torn and sweat makes her itch as it covers her body
and drips down her back.
“What are you doing?”
Arachne turns her head
and bites back a scream, looking into one giant eye. The cyclops holds easily
to the volcano’s edges, even though her hands are torn and bleeding. She
swallows and says, “I heard you like honeyed bread. Is it true?”
The creature tilts his
head to the side, baring his long fanged teeth at her. She thinks he might be
smiling. “You’ve been climbing for hours. What do you want?”
“Is it true?” she
repeats, refusing to flinch.
“Yes,” he says, looking
at her the same way the baker had, “it’s true.”
“There’s some sweet
bread in my pack, baked this morning,” she says, “it should still be soft.”
His hands are big
enough and strong enough that it could probably squeeze her head like a grape. Instead
he gently undoes her pack and reaches inside. The honey buns look comically
small in his large hands, and he swallows half of them in one bite. He licks
his fingers clean when he’s done, and his smile is just as terrifying the
second time around. “I am Brontes. Why are you climbing my master’s volcano?”
“I’m the weaver
Arachne,” she takes a deep breath, “I need your master’s help.”
They tell tales of
They are not true.
He’s got a broad,
angular face and short brown hair. His eyes are like amber set into his face,
and his arms are huge, and he’s rippling muscle from the waist up. He has legs
only to his knees. From there down his legs are bronze gears and golden wire,
replacements for the legs destroyed when Hera threw him from Mount Olympus.
“Had your look, girl?”
he asks, voice rough like he’s always a moment away from breaking into a
“Yes,” she says, and
doesn’t turn away, keeps looking.
His lips quirk up at
the corners, so it was the right move. The heat is even more oppressive inside
the volcano, and all around him cyclopses work, forging oddly shaped metal that
she can’t hope to understand. “You’ve gone to an awful lot of trouble to find me,
girl. What do you want?”
She slides her pack off
her shoulders and holds it out to the god, “I have a gift for your wife. I have
woven her a cloak.”
He raises an eyebrow
and doesn’t reach for the bag, “You believe something made with mortal hands
could be worthy of the goddess of beauty?”
They will tell tales of
They will all be true.
With a gust of wind the
oppressive heat of the volcano is swept away, leaving her chilled. In its place
stands a woman – more than a woman. Aphrodite has skin like the copper of her
husband’s machines and hair dark and thick and long. Her eyes are deepest,
richest brown, piercing in their intelligence. People don’t tell tales of
Aphrodite’s cleverness. That is because people are stupid.
“Let’s see it then,”
she says, reaching inside the pack and pulling the cloak from its depths.
It unrolls beautifully.
It’s made from the finest silks, and it shimmers in the light from the forges.
The hem of the cloak is sea foam, speaking of Aphrodite’s beginning, and up
along the cloak is intricate patterns it tells of her life, of her marriage and
her worshippers and escapades, all with the detail of the most experienced
artist and the reverence of her most devoted followers.
Her lips part in
surprise and she slides it on, twirling like a child. “Gorgeous,” Hephaestus
says, though Arachne knows he does not speak of the cloak. She doesn’t take
The goddess smiles and
Arachne’s heart pounds in her chest. She does her best to ignore it – Aphrodite
is the goddess of love, after all. It is only expected. “Very well,” the
goddess says, “you have my attention.”
Aphrodite’s attention is a heavy thing. “I have offended Athena,” she says,
“She has challenged me to a weaving contest.”
Their faces somber.
Hephaestus rubs the edge of a sleeve between his fingers and says, “Athena will
lose such a contest, if judged fairly. She does not take loss well.”
“I know,” she says,
“you are friendly with Hades, are you not?”
There are no tales of
their friendship. But she’s staking her life on its existence, because why
wouldn’t it exist – both of them even tempered, both shunned by Olympus, both
Gods hate being made to
feel lesser. It is why they say Persephone was kidnapped, why they say
Aphrodite cheats with Ares. It is why Athena will crush her when Arachne wins
the weaving contest.
“Clever girl,” Hephaestus
Aphrodite stares at her
reflection in a convenient piece of polished silver. Arachne assumes Hephaestus
left if lying there for that express purpose. “Very well!” the goddess says,
not looking at her, “when Athena sends you to the underworld, we will entrench
upon our uncle for your release.” She turns on her heel and points a finger at
her. Arachne blushes for no reason she can think of. “In return, you will weave
me a gown, one equal to my own beauty.”
A gown as exquisite as
the goddess of beauty. An impossible task.
They will tell tales of
They will all be true.
The contest goes as
expected. Athena’s tapestry is lovely, but Arachne’s is lovelier.
The goddess’s face goes
red in rage, and her grey eyes narrow. Arachne stands tall, ready to accept the
death blow coming for her.
The blow comes.
Death does not.
She is an insect. Even if she can make it back to Hephaestus’s
volcano, even if they can help her, they will not know it is her. She has no
hope left, no course of action, she should just give up. But –
She doesn’t believe in
defeat, in loss.
It was a terribly long
journey on foot, that first time. It is even longer this time, although now she
has eight legs instead of two. She makes it to the volcano, and creeps in
between crevices, until she finds out a hollowed room, one with a sliver of
sunlight and plenty of bugs to keep her fed.
Athena’s cruel joke of
allowing her to weave will be her downfall. Her silk comes out a golden yellow
color – it will look exquisite against Aphrodite’s copper skin.
It takes seven years
for her to complete it. She hasn’t left this room in the volcano in all that
time, and as soon as it’s done she scurries out back toward the village. She’s
a large insect, but not that large.
She arrives just as the
sun begins to rise, and leaves before the first rays have even touched the
earth, her prize tied to her back with her own silk.
Arachne doesn’t return
to her room. Instead she goes to the more popular parts of the volcano, hurries
and runs around terrifying stomping feet until she finds who she’s looking for
and scurries up his leg and onto his shoulder.
“Huh,” Brontes looks
onto his shoulder and blinks. “What on earth are you?”
She cautiously skitters
down his arm, waiting. He bends closer and lightly touches her back. “Is – is that
a piece of a honey bun?”
She looks up at him,
waiting. It’s her only chance, if he doesn’t remember, if he doesn’t understand
His face slowly fills with
a cautious kind of wonder. “Arachne?” She
jumps in place, being unable to nod, and Brontes cautiously cradles her in his
massive hands, “We must find the Master immediately!”
She jumps down, landing
in front of him and running forward. “Wait!” he calls, and she makes sure he’s running
after her before skittering back to her corner of the cave. It’s almost too
small for him to enter but he squeezes inside and breathes, “Oh.” He stares for
several moments, and Arachne climbs her web and waits. Brontes shakes himself
out of his reverie and uses his powerful wings to bellow, “MISTRESS APHRODITE!”
There’s that same
breeze and she’s in the crevice with them, “What was so important, Brontes,
that you had to yell?”
Arachne sees the exact
moment that the goddess sees the gown, golden yellow and glimmering, made
entirely of spider silk. “Beautiful,” she says, reaching out a hand to brush
down the bodice. Her head then snaps up, “Brontes, where’s Arachne?”
She warms at that, that
Aphrodite knew it was her weaving even though she hasn’t been seen in seven
They’ve told tales of
They are all true.
Brontes points at the
web, and Aphrodite steps over and holds out her hands. Arachne crawls onto the
goddess’s palms. “Athena is more powerful than I am, I cannot undo her work,”
she says, “but I know someone who can.”
Then they are in front
of a river. A handsome young man stands there waiting with a boat. “Goddess
Aphrodite,” he says, “we weren’t expecting you.”
returns, “I need to see Persephone.”
The man’s face stays
cool, and for a moment Arachne fears they will be refused and she will be stuck
in this form forever. Then he smiles and says, “My lady is of course available
for her favored niece.” He holds out a hand to help her onto the boat, “Please
come with me.”
Arachne weaves a dress
for Hades’s wife as a thank you, and returns to her volcano.
“I can take you
somewhere else,” Aphrodite says, “you don’t have to hide here.”
Arachne pauses at her
loom. She has lived in this volcano for seven years. It’s her home. “Would you
like me to leave?” she asks instead.
Aphrodite scoffs, “Of
course not! How could I dress myself without you here?” She’s wearing the
spider silk dress Arachne spun for her, and she’s working on another for the
goddess now. Aphrodite runs a gentle finger down Arachne’s cheek and for a
moment she forgets to breathe. “You are the finest weaver to ever exist.”
She looks up at the
goddess, “Then as the god of crafts and goddess of beautiful things, where else
would I belong besides with you and Hephaestus?”
To declare your company
equal to that of gods is the height of arrogance and blasphemy.
They tell tales of her
“An excellent point,”
Aphrodite murmurs, and tucks a stray braid behind Arachne’s ear.
Love her. With every ounce of your being. Make sure she knows you love her and care for her. Do the small things. They’ll go a long way. Treat her like a princess. She’s the most amazing girl and deserves the best. Buy her flowers randomly, especially daisy’s, those are her favorite. Or if you really wanna make her happy dye some roses with a bunch of cool colors but make the prettiest rose purple. That’s her favorite color. She’ll smile huge and not know what to say but she’ll love it. Buy her candy and put on a movie. She loves air head bites and watermelon sour patch, she can eat the whole bag in 1 sitting. Order a pizza. She loves pepperoni and pineapple. It sounds weird but it’s actually pretty good, but be careful because she’s allergic to normal pineapple. Let her lay her head on your chest and play with your hair. Let her listen to your heart beat. It’ll calm her heart when she gets nervous. Tell her how beautiful she is, she should hear that multiple times a day because she’s the most beautiful woman in the world. If she has an anxiety attack, make sure she knows it will be okay. Be there for her the whole time. Comfort her. Hold her. Try to get her mind off of it. Play music, especially Big Jet Plane. That’s her favorite song and it’ll calm her heart beat. Take her on dates and hype her up. Tell her how gorgeous she is and how when your with her it’s like the stars align and everything is perfect. Tell her that she’s your daisy in a field full of wild dandelions. She’s a rarity. There is no one like her so make sure she knows that. Massage her feet. I know it’s random but she likes it. Kiss her feet, let her know that there is nothing about her you don’t find flawless. Everything she finds as a snaggletooth, you should love with all of your heart. Let her know you’re thinking about her at random times throughout the day. It’s cute. When you drive past daisy’s on the side of the road, be ready to stop because she loves to pick them. If she ever tells you she needs to stop picking them, don’t let her. It’s one of her favorite things to do. When she’s mad at you, kiss her. Don’t go to bed mad at each other, fix the issue, trust me it’ll be worth it in the morning. Let her paint on your back, she always wanted to do that wth me but never got the chance. I wish we did but she will love to use your body as a canvas. Let her take pictures of your eyes. Everyone’s eyes have a different story and she loves taking close ups of them. Let her wear your deodorant, especially if you wear Old Spice Fiji, she loves the way it smells. Take her to pick strawberries. Eat them all and make some cool desserts with them. She loves Nutella so make sure she has some with her strawberries. Fall asleep with your faces right next to each other. Hold her hand wherever you go. Draw circles on her body with your fingers. Whenever she is self-conscious about her body, make sure she knows she was made in the image of God. Make sure she knows how beautiful she is. Kiss her in the places she’s worried about. Kiss her everywhere. Kiss every one of her fingers and then kiss them again, she loves it. Support her. With whatever she wants to do. She’s so determined to be successful and needs a strong man behind her pushing her forward. Be a man of God in her life. Lead her closer to God because that’s the most important thing in this world. Make her feel safe. Make her feel at home. Treat her like a queen because she is a queen and she deserves the world. Love her with ever ounce of your being, I mean everything you have. You’ll never meet anyone like her ever again so don’t let any moment pass without taking it all in. Take pictures of her randomly. Fill your phone with thousands of pictures of her and then send them to her at random times telling her how beautiful she is. Don’t rush her, let her take her time. You can’t rush love. Let it come naturally. Just never give up on her. Fight for her. But promise me this. Promise me you won’t hurt her. Protect her heart and take care of her. Please. She deserves the world.
(1) Hi Viria, I hope you are well :) I am sorry to bother you with this, but it's really important for me, and I wanted to share it with you. It'll be long and kinda sad at first, but it gets better, trust me. I'm a 23 y/o latina art student. When I was a baby, my mom left my dad and remarried, and my little sister was born when I was 10. She is the light of my life and I love her to no end. Our mom, however, had had and undiagnosed and untreated mental illness for years, and one day
(2) during a severe crisis she hurt us really bad. I was 12. She was taken away to a psychiatric hospital and Child Services prohibited her from ever getting near us again. Since then, I have been taking care of my little sister and practically raised her while my stepdad worked 2-3 shifts to afford our education and payment for my mom’s hospital, living and meds. He was always working and I took full responsibility for my sis. As you can imagine, even though I loved her with my life,
(3) the situation was very stressful and exhausting for me. By the time I was 15, I looked every bit a teen mom. One particularly hard night when my little sis had been crying about mom, I couldn’t sleep. So I turned to something that calmed me: the Harry Potter books. I read them online, and somehow ended up searching for HP fanart. That was the night I stumbled upon your DA account. And boy, did I love it! I know back in 2011 your skills weren’t what they are now,
(4) but I was blown away, and what’s more, I felt inspired to draw. I had never tried to make any art before; it wasn’t “my thing”. But that night, you inspired me. As time went by I kept drawing and closely followed your improvements. Your art was so relaxing, calming, and inspiring, that it really helped me during hard times. You kinda dragged me into all the cool fandoms, series and animes, and I found life to be far more bearable with so many awesome things to love and think about.
(5) Your DA and Tumblr were some sort of safe sapce for me. It always cheered me up and gave me joy, peace, inspiration. When the time came, I choose to study Art at college. It turned out you did too, and you kept up all the good stuff in your blogs. Weirdly enough, I kept feeling a sense of pride whenever you improved and got better. I was so strange that you were so so far away and didn’t even know I existed but you helped me so much.
(6) I got accepted at my country’s top University to study Fine Arts; I moved cities and took my sister with me; she grew into a wonderful, sensible, peaceful child, and her presence motivated me to be the best version of myself, while your art motivated me to keep expanding my academic/artistic abilities. Life was hard but good at college, and I had incredible opportunities. I am graduating this spring with an advanced studies specialization, and was recently hired to work at
(7) of a movie. It’s like living a dream. And tonight, just a couple hours ago, the most incredible thing happened. After dinner, my little sis came to me, phone in hand, and said “Hey Ana, you won’t believe what I found. There’s this girl who makes amazing art of all the fandoms you’re in. Her drawings are gorgeous and she has so many!”. She showed me your tumblr. I wanted to laugh and cry. She was amazed when she saw your old drawings and your current ones; speechless.
(8) She fell in love, and you know what? Immediatly after, she went to draw. She’s been doing so the past hours. I know this was offensively long, but Viria, I needed to thank you for what you did. Your art has always been SO much more than just digital drawings of fictional characters. It’s been the source of peace, safety and joy that so many of us crave. You have wonderfully impacted and influenced many people across the world with everything you make.
(9) I am so glad you exist and do what you do; you gave me the hobby that grew into my passion, thaught me so much, inspired me beyond belief and most of all, you helped make life more bearable. And now, you have made the same for my sister. Viria, the world wouldn’t be the same without you. You are truly a magnificent light among us, and for your existence and passion I’ll be forever grateful. Thank you, and may you always live the beautiful, happy, awesome life you deserve. Thank you.
I’m not even kidding I was sitting here peacefully chewing sandwich and by the end of these messages the sandwich was too salty so was my cappuccino I swear you got me to tears and now i’m just like
I’m a shaking emotional leaf but thank you so much for writing me! It means so much and i’m so touched and i just wish you and your sister all the best of luck, though it seems like you don’t really need it. Thank you, and I hope life goes wonderfully for you and your family!
i just have a lot of feelings about peter and mj so here we are. (part two can be found here)
peter is not looking forward to junior year
he somehow ended up signing up for like 3 different AP classes that he definitely did not remember signing up for
but being spiderman, he barely sleeps so his memory has been out of sorts lately
anyways so the first day of school rolls around and his first class is AP bio, and ned was his partner in regular bio but Ned is taking environmental science this year
and ned is peter’s only friend
so our spidey boy is without a lab partner, until michelle walks in right as the bell rings, drops her bag right next to Peter’s laptop on the lab counter, and begins reading catcher in the rye
she’s read it multiple times, just fyi
peter is shook
because he and michelle are friends now? i mean she’s caption of decathlon now that liz is gone and he’s sort of one of the best on the team and they are sort of partners there too
so peter rolls with it
and michelle ends up making AP bio fun, for example she and peter come up with names for everyone else in their class since they sit at the back of the room
flash is named: “dumbass”.
not original, but it works for them
AP bio is usually after lunch, and so often if there is a quick decathlon meeting during lunch, peter and michelle find themselves walking together
it’s not until peter realizes he’s low on webs that he realizes the problem
Michelle is sort of his ‘other ned’ if you will
basically, she never leaves him alone
and she doesn’t know he sneaks into the labs to make more webs
this is a situation, because how is peter supposed to distract her long enough to sneak into the chem labs?
cue ned the chair guy
peter gives ned one job, JUST ONE JOB, to keep michelle distracted during lunch so he can sneak into the chem lab, test out his new webs, and get out.
but the only thing ned can talk about is his new lego millennium falcon
and michelle is not into hearing ned talk about that for more than 5 minutes because he isn’t peter
so somehow she escapes and finds herself wandering around the halls when she realizes where the hell is peter?
eventually she finds herself downstairs and she hears a strange noise from a nearby door.
so she peeks into what looks like the chem lab and low and behold peter parker is shooting webs out of his hands
the bruises, the sudden disappearances, decathlon, why spiderman was in DC out of all places…
next thing peter knows, michelle is in front of him, and she’s pissed
like, REALLY pissed
peter doesn’t catch much of what she’s saying besides the occasional “you could be killed” or “NED knows and i DON’T?” or “is this the damn stark internship?”
and peter is staring with his mouth open because even though she just found out his deepest darkest secret in the most obvious place (did he learn nothing from the aunt may incident?) her eyes are a gorgeous shade of brown and she’s kind of adorable when she’s mad
but that’s not that point
it takes peter the rest of lunch period to calm her down and to convince her not to tell anyone, not that she would, but you never know
and it takes him even longer to reassure her that he is perfectly safe and that the suit is very, very, reliable
she demands to see it, and peter refuses because they’re in the damn chem lab for god’s sake
eventually they head to AP bio, and Michelle doesn’t ask anymore questions. In fact, she doesn’t ask anymore questions for a while
peter thinks she forgot, or that she doesn’t care that much, but then a major accident happens in downtown in the middle of the night a few days later and spiderman is seen pulling people from a burning building, but no one saw spiderman come out before it collapsed.
he skips school the next day because he’s “sick” and ned brings him his homework. he doesn’t ask about michelle, because he thinks that if she really doesn’t care after all, it’s better that he doesn’t know
he’s proven wrong – because when he does go back to school and walks into AP bio, Michelle launches herself into his arms in front of the whole class.
and while afterwords she makes some joke about how peter saved their project that isn’t due until the end of the semester, peter starts to feel butterflies in his stomach.
omg i got so excited at it i can’t even….. ugh. not only because i got an another request but also because this is an amazing idea and i’m in love with this, i think i need to change some things that were a little unclear to me but i hope you will like it anyway
sorry if it’s too short to your liking, & please let me know what you think REQUESTS ARE O P E N
[Y/N] was a pretty 15 year old girl, who liked spending her free time in her dad’s work. Jim Gordon’s work. She’d go there everyday after school.
She wanted to work at the GCPD in the future, not as a cop, but as a doctor, just like Doctor Leslie Thompkins. [Y/N] was a very smart girl, so everybody believed she would accomplish her goal.
[Y/N] enjoyed being with Doctor Lee, and as you may wonder, Doctor Lee enjoyed being with [Y/N]. She reminded her of herself when she was younger, so she was happy to answer any questions this sweet girl had.
“Harvey! Do you know where Doctor Thompkins is?"
[Y/N]’s been looking for her, she wanted to watch her work, as always. At first she wasn’t sure if that’s okay with her but she said she enjoys her company, much to [Y/N]’s joy.
"I don’t know, kiddo, check the morgue.” Answered busy Harvey Dent petting her on the head and walking away.
[Y/N] was walking to the morgue as she heard two cops talking about Jerome Valeska. They didn’t have a chance to meet but she saw him, that day when they found his dead mother. Dead because of him.
His cult was trying to bring him back from the dead…
“Can you believe he’s lying in the morgue right now with no face on?!”
“Shut up, this is disgusting.”
[Y/N] could agree on that. It seriously gave her chills.
But still, it didn’t change the fact she wanted to see how he looked now. She would never admit it to anyone, but she thought he was kinda cute. When he had a face and was still breathing, though.
[Y/N] entered the room humming a song she always does.
“Doctor Le–” she stopped dead in her tracks.
Before her, Lee Thompkins sitting on a table, tied up, looking over her should to see who just came in, worry filled her eyes as she noticed it’s [Y/N]. And there it was Jerome Valeska, standing across from Doctor Lee, his face all bloody and bandaged smiling widely at [Y/N]. He was wearing something very skin-tight…
“Hi there. Care to join us, Sweetheart?” Jerome walked towards her.
Now as he took a better look at her, he noticed she looked younger than him.
“Don’t cha a little too young to work here?”
[Y/N] only shrugged and gulped as he started to tie her up and told her to sit beside Lee.
They looked at each other, Lee’s gaze looked like it was asking her “Why did you have to come here exactly right now?!”
Jerome not interested in Lee anymore, moved to kneel before the pretty girl and looked into her eyes.
“Do you know where is my face, Precious?”
She stared at him. “Yeah… I heard Dwight took it and that he wears it like a mask..” She made a disgusted face.
Jerome exhaled deeply. “At least he’s a handsome fella now.”
[Y/N] cracked a small smile trying not to giggle. She didn’t want Doctor Lee to think she’s stupid.
Jerome glanced back at Lee and then back to [Y/N] and cupped her cheek.
“Now tell me, what exactly are you doing here? You can’t possibly be working here, you look young. How old are you anyway, Sweet Cheeks?”
“Umm..” She was unsure if she should tell him but he had something in his eyes that screamed “tell me all about you!”
“I don’t work here, I’m 15 years old. My dad is working here.”
“Don’t tell him that [Y/N]!”
“[Y/N]? Pretty name for a pretty girl.” He smirked and reached for something to gag Doctor Lee. “Who’s your dad? I’m dying to know.”
He started laughing like crazy. “James Gordon! I can’t believe it! And Doctor here is still talking to you after what your father has done to her poor husband?” He burst in another laugh.
[Y/N] wanted to defend her dad but she knew there was no point.
“Ohhh you’re coming with me, Gorgeous! You’re too fun to be left here!” He started to untie her.
And she left with him. Just like that.
Doctor Lee waited for someone to rescue her, they needed to find [Y/N]. They needed to find Jerome.
But she could’t stop thinking about that one thing that was still disturbing her.
The adoration in young girl’s eyes when she looked at the Ginger.
“Bullet Points On Your First Date With A Trans Woman”
1: Since your gonna ask yes, some trans women have dicks, no, you cannot ask us about it, we will tell you if we are comfortable. So if you got buns and you don’t want none but our anaconda then save your money and run out and buy a dildo. Hit up Venus Envy*, they got you.
2: What you’ve seen in porn: forget it. If all you know of us is wet skin flicks of trans girls sucking dick you can just stick to that and leave us alone. Or at least watch good trans porn. Hit up Courtney Trouble, she got you.
3: Know your date will be cute. All trans girls are cute, I’m sorry, I don’t make the rules. So whether she’s short or tall hold her close and call “You’re so gorgeous, baby doll” cause she’ll be putting button eyes to shame.
4: If you’re going to take us out please make an attempt for it to be fun. Cause if it is you’ll see the sun rising up in the column of her chest to beam through her teeth like morning’s break. Date idea? I dunno, cheezy bread? Hit up Dominos, they got you.
5: Now, there’s a good chance your girl might be a bit awkward, cause for some of us believe that this is tough too. So if she’s shy just tell her “Boo, its ok that it’s just me and you”. She going to need to learn to trust, cause she’s probably been burned before.
6: If you’re out and someone says something, yells something, try not to start a fight. Because the wrongs of your fist won’t make it right, not tonight, bloodshed and might won’t break transphobia like an eye socket; won’t fold it like a broken nose.
7: If you’re out and someone says something, she might get quiet and even if whispered, trust, she’s heard it, tranny, heshe, shemale, faggot, and that casts her deep inside her own pit of funhouse mirror and screaming voices repeating every time those words have been said to her.
8: If she withdraws understand it’s not you, she’s just human. Realize that some of us have spent our lives standing on bridges over water trying not to dive because riverbeds looks soft like graves and quieter than the streets and schools and jobs and houses and even our own minds.
9: Hold her. Let her know its ok. Take her home but not to bed, kiss her on the head and thank the stars that she’s not dead . Cause you got a glimpse of what’s been said, and what she’s lived through and suffered through and survived for so many days to even date you.
10: Try again. It won’t always be like this. Don’t shy away just because the world is spiteful and cruel and wrong. There is so much love that can be given when we don’t give in to hate.
So hit us up. We got you.
*Venus Envy is a local feminist bookstore/sex shop. Replace with your own local awesome store.
“Hey, I just shoot the guns.” “You know that’s my line, right?”
Tol meme Pathfinder with her tol turian gf :’) How Vetra puts up with all of Six’s crazy shenanigans, we’ll never know…
I got the chance to commission the awesome @projectnelm for this gorgeous art of Six and Vetra! Ahhhhhh! ;A; Thank you so much <3 She was such a pleasure to work with! Please consider commissioning her if you get the chance!!
very beautiful! gorgeous horn, lovely hair, she puts a lot of effort into her look & i bet she’s a hard worker! 10/10
not as multicoloured as her unicorn friends, but still very beautiful! she probably has a very kind heart. 10/10
1 word: very lovely. she’s a charmer, everyone loves her. i love her too. although she is blocky, she does not let that bring her down! 10/10
he looks so young and innocent! i’d trust him with my life. adorable boy, 10/10
she looks related to Apple in some way. she’s like the pastel version of her, but she’s still very lovely and unique! 10/10 i love her
very majestic. there’s a feeling of dominance around him, but i bet he has a heart of gold. probably the father of samsung and microsoft. he cares deeply about his children 10/10 loving father
wow! bold & bright! astonishing! she would get 1st place at a beauty contest. 10/10 gorgeous girl
hes very confident. he spiked his hair, & he is really beautiful! look at that smile. he’s a gorgeous boy & he knows it 10/10
mysterious gal! shes quite reserved and tends to keep to herself, but she doesn’t mind being with her friends! you know in those wallpapers where there’s a beautiful horse at a beautiful lake? that’s her. beautiful. i love her so much 10/10
Growing up, people told Y/n that you could die from a broken heart—that the stress on your heartstrings could weaken, and all that’s left is the pain in your chest.
Y/n thought her heart would fail her, rupture all that’s left of her and leave her body to decompose. She believed that, if her broken heart wasn’t going to kill her, loneliness and lack of sleep would push her towards her end.
Moving on—something that seemed so simple yet so impossible for Y/n to do.
When the hurt in her chest and the hallucinations from exhaustion started to become too much for her to handle, she was willing to do anything to help herself. She started taking up yoga sessions, started writing music, even started cooking in an attempt to bring herself back from whatever hell she was in.
She even considered moving on—meeting a man at a bar and getting to know more about him rather than his drink order. But something seemed so wrong about that—something was unsettled inside of her at the thought of being with someone who wasn’t Harry.
The image of Jessica in Harry and Y/n’s t-shirt was enough to haunt her nearly every hour of the day. She started going mental, constantly wondering what they were doing together in the moments she was most vulnerable. She wondered about their love life, their future, their interests. She thought about everything.
It wasn’t until Gabby was determined to mend the broken girl raiding her house, finding any possible excuse to give her a sense of life again, that Y/n found the slightest bit of hope.
Y/n was losing it entirely, and Gabby refused to continue being a bystander.
Gabby had set Y/n up on a blind date only a couple weeks back, practically begging her to seize every opportunity she possibly can to get over Harry. It was all Gabby could do to help her, considering nothing quite helped Y/n’s well-being since the breakup.
“Oh, he’s just so perfect!” Gabby squealed, clapping her hands before gripping tightly around Y/n’s wrists in excitement. “He’s gorgeous! Amazing blue eyes—breathtaking, really! And he’s so sweet, Y/n! I haven’t met a single person who’s disliked him and he’s such an amazing photographer! And his teeth! His teeth are marvelous! Do you know how hard it is nowadays to find a man with nice teeth? I mean—“
By then, Y/n had dozed off, and it wasn’t for any personal reason against Gabby; she’s appreciated every bit of hard work to help her through the heartbreak Y/n’s been dealing with nearly half of a year now. It’s just that she wasn’t ready to move on, not that she didn’t want to.
It had been nearly five months, which may seem like such an abundance of time to rid feelings for somebody, but did time really help moving on from someone she’d planned to spend the rest of her life with? It seemed nearly impossible. She could barely see herself looking at other men in a romantic sense, how could she see herself going on a date with somebody? Especially when she was still in love with somebody else?
She was biting the bullet with letting time heal her, but she felt that was the only way. Nothing more could help her. If anything, she believed dating would make it worse, if she were being honest.
But the look of excitement Gabby had at the mere thought of Y/n being happy again was something Y/n found nearly impossible to resist. Besides, she had definitely been overstaying her welcome at Gabby’s house no matter how much Gabby’s tried to deny it and has put so much stress onto her that maybe, just maybe, doing this one favor for all that she’s done for her.
“So, what do you say?”
Y/n blinked harshly when Gabby’s voice drowned out all the scrambled thoughts in her head, shaking her head slightly to regain her understanding of reality.
“Monmouth Coffee Shop at noon tomorrow. Dan really wants to meet you, Y/n! Please!”
Y/n’s eyes widened, snapping her head up to meet Gabby’s hopeful eyes.
“The Monmouth?! Are you crazy?! That’s Harry’s favorite coffee shop, you know that! Dan and Harry probably know each other, that’s how much he goes there!”
Gabby’s eyes narrowed as her lips pursed, gaze directing toward the ceiling in thought.
“Harry? Harry who? I don’t remember who that is, never heard that name in my life.”
Her tone reeked with sarcasm, which made Y/n’s eyes nearly roll to the back of her head. As much as she wished Gabby’s negative remarks about Harry were comedic, there was always something about them that infuriated her. She always supposed it was the instinctual aspect of loving someone so much.
Gabby sighed as she reached her hand up to rub Y/n’s shoulder gently.
“Look,” she began, “you’re my best friend and I hate seeing you like this. You’re not the same Y/n I always knew, and I think you see yourself that way, too. And in all honesty, I don’t give a fuck about Harry anymore. As sadistic and twisted as it sounds, I don’t care about his emotions, or how he feels. He did this to you. He killed a part of you and I feel it’s my obligation to help you through this. So, please, go out with Dan tomorrow. He works at Monmouth, he’ll meet you before his shift starts at 1:30.”
Gabby’s arm slid off of Y/n’s shoulder at the shadow of uncertainty behind her eyes. Even though Gabby understood all the pain and hesitation, she didn’t want to see Y/n suffer another day. She just couldn’t.
“Please,” she whimpered, “Dan has been the only sense of hope I’ve gotten to make you happy again. Just do this one thing, please? And if it doesn’t work, then you can blame me. I’m just trying here.”
Y/n coughed slightly, her inability to say no wearing off of her at Gabby’s desperate pleads. It was an opportunity to turn things back around in her life, and if it didn’t go as planned, she really didn’t have anything more to lose.
She nods her head softly.
“Yeah—yeah, okay. I’ll meet him.”
Maybe this would be good for her.
Dan is lovely, always caring for Y/n and making sure she feels like royalty whenever she’s around. He puts her first, in everything, and made her start to feel somewhat alive again.
It’s cute, really, how effortless he is at giving someone so much attention. Y/n likes it—loves it, even, but it still never feels right to her. She sees something with him, but nothing long term, not in the way she sees Harry.
But he’s good for her now—when she’s at her worst and needs someone to be there for her. He’s able to provide her with the company she desperately needs in order to cure the possible fatalities that came with her broken heart.
“Thank you for the coffee, it was great.” Y/n smiles softly, her cheeks blushing slightly as she traces the rim of her coffee cup.
It’s nearly their tenth date, and they still meet at the Monmouth in the afternoon right before his shift starts. It’s become a routine for them, going out together before Dan drops her off at the parking station. It became something they both looked forward to throughout their week, and soon became more of a tradition between them.
Dan grins, almost instinctively wrapping his arms around Y/n’s shoulders so that her head makes rest on his chest. He sighs, pressing a small kiss to the top of her head before resting his chin where his lips once were.
“Of course. I’ll be getting out at around 6 o‘clock so maybe I can stop by for a few? Maybe watch a movie?”
He knows the answer before she says it—his constant attempts to get closer to her always seeming to fail. There’s always a hesitation, or always an excuse to prevent them from being alone together.
He’s well aware that there are parts of her that need to be fixed, still being completely destructed by her ex-lover. He’s tried tirelessly to get her to open up and to trust him, but there’s a thick barrier still in their way of each other. It disheartens him, to know she refuses to let him in.
She sighs, guilt evident in her breath as she softly pushes away from him.
She does that often, he’s noticed it.
She feels horrible for doing so every time. Everything between them has remained stagnant, nothing being built so that nothing could be knocked down. It’s not that Y/n doesn’t trust him, it’s that Y/n doesn’t trust herself. She’s still in love with someone else, and she can’t hurt Dan—not in that way.
“I think I’m just going to—“
“Yeah, I know.” Dan nods, arms moving to cross at his chest, “I get it. Just like every other time.”
Y/n reaches her shaking fingers to brush her hair behind her ear, guilt flashing in her eyes as she refuses to meet his gaze. She’s familiar with the look he has on his face well enough to know he’s upset again, being constantly shut down by her.
“I’m so sorry, Dan.” She whispers, “But I’m trying. I want to keep trying with you. If you let me.”
He looks unconvinced, as he’s been hearing this for a while now. But something inside of him can’t quit her, no matter how much his intuition tells him she’s a dead end. Maybe he feels sorry for her on a level he’s never felt sorrow for somebody else. No matter how much she hides it, she really does need him. Not in a romantic level, but she does need him to show her that he cares for her and that he’ll always be there. She needs that sense of security, and he’s the only one that can provide it for her.
“Yeah,” he nods, “we can keep trying. It’s okay, I’m here for you.“
Harry had been living in his studio for the past couple of weeks. It certainly wasn’t ideal, but it was much better than sleeping on his and Y/n’s bed—alone.
That’s all he’s felt since their break up—lonely. It’s quite strange, considering Harry had millions of supporters, an entire band throughout his solo career, and producers around him nearly every hour of the day. He used to complain that he never had alone time anymore, that between all the constant traveling and being at the peak of his career, it was hard to find time for himself.
But now, in the midst of everything happening in his life, he wishes to feel that sort of hustle again.
Y/n was the person that kept him grounded through everything. She was the one consistency in his life, which gave him all the more reasons to love her. Whenever he was overwhelmed with the pressure put on him, or feeling homesick during his travels, she was always the one to keep him at bay and give him a sense of clarity.
Home hadn’t become a house, instead, Y/n’s heart. Wherever she was, he felt at home. Even when she was half way across the world, it was her voice that brought him back and reminded him that, no matter how much he missed the walls of familiarity, home was always a phone call away. She gave him that sense of comfort everywhere she went, it was truly amazing.
And when he broke up with Y/n, he didn’t think of how much everything around him would be affected. He thought time would do them best—would help mend the relationship that seemed to be collapsing beneath their feet. Their connections were lost, replaces by uncomfortable silences and unbarring arguments.
He didn’t think of the consequences when he did it. He didn’t think about how lost he’d become, or how he had no place to call home, or how there was no consistency in his life anymore. There were so many aspects of his life that Y/n had given him—so much of them that he didn’t realize until she moved out.
It was the exact reason he started being around Jessica. She was a great distraction, a beautiful woman to take his mind off of everything.
They weren’t much of anything. Nothing about them was exclusive besides what the media saw of them: boyfriend and girlfriend moving in together in London. It was far from the truth, really. He was with her to terminate his dry spell and rid his loneliness, and she was with him because he infatuated her.
He ended it all, though, that same morning Y/n found Jessica wearing their shirt. The entire incident gave him a realization; that nobody could fill his void like Y/n did.
The fear of losing her forever and making her believe he was in love with somebody else was enough to break him out of his selfish ways. She had been waiting for him for months, and when he returned, he wasn’t the same man he was.
Not only did Harry know that Y/n lost all her faith in him—he lost all faith in himself, as well.
“I’m so screwed, Nick. I fucked up everything. Everything.”
Harry was laying with his back flat against the studio couch, hands rubbing down his face as he tried to steady his harsh breathing.
It was just after he had run into Y/n at the grocery store, where she had seen Jessica wearing Harry and Y/n’s t-shirt. Although he was practically mute during the encounter, everything hit him at once after Y/n and Gabby walked out.
He called Nick in a hurry, incoherent and completely disoriented from the tears he’d broken down into. Everything he thought would be mended completely fell down on them—all because of him.
“Jessica was wearing the shirt with the—fuck, you know the shirt, and Y/n saw and she was such a mess, Nick. I didn’t even say anything to her, she was practically begging me to say something and I didn’t say a word.”
Nick sat cross-armed on one of the chairs, directly across from Harry. He wished he could have felt remorse seeing Harry in such distress, however, he never agreed with Harry’s actions and made it clear numerous times. In his eyes, this was karma’s ticking time bomb.
“You tend to be a real jackass sometimes, you know that?”
Harry lifted himself up so that he could sit properly. His body slumped against the back of the couch, head rested in his palm as he coughed uncomfortably at Nick’s choice of words.
“You let go of the best thing that’s ever happened to you and then you just move on, as if she meant nothing, and you think you just fucked it all up now? Over a goddamn t-shirt?”
Harry scowled at him.
“I haven’t moved on, and it’s more than just a t-shirt, you know that. That was ours.” Harry defended, glaring over at his direction.
“So why was Jessica wearing it after you fucked her on the bed you and Y/n shared every night for the past three years?”
Something about Nick’s words gave Harry a foul taste in his mouth. As much as he wished Nick didn’t say it in that way, that’s exactly what Harry did, and knowing he had to live with that for the rest of his life made his stomach flip inside of him.
He really did fuck it up. Nothing he did was excusable, nothing he did was forgivable. He betrayed the one woman he loved so dearly—the one woman he’d always consider his soulmate. He really, really fucked it up.
He gulped as he tried to find words to justify himself. There was really nothing he could say.
“She—she had just put it on while I was sleeping and when—when I noticed she just wouldn’t shut up about breakfast and I couldn’t just be like ‘Hey, Jess, could you take off that shirt? That belonged to me and my ex-girlfriend and I don’t appreciate it?’ How could I do that?”
He sighed, leaning his face into the palm of his hands as he looked back onto his experiences with Jessica. Was it all worth it? Was she really worth all of this?
“She means nothing to me, Nick. I lost the girl I love for somebody who doesn’t mean anything to me.” He whispered, “How do I live knowing that?”
It’s nearly two in the afternoon when Harry finally decides to leave his studio. He’s been working on some songs he found himself writing during his free time, something he found therapeutic throughout the past couple of months.
Recording and writing have become the only distractions that seem to work for Harry. Everything else became temporary. Writing out his emotions and singing the words he wishes he could say has been the only sense of closure he’s had in a while.
“Dan! Long time no see!” Harry smiles when he enters Monmouth, a familiar face being something he finds so relieving.
Dan looks up from his register, reaching over the counter to give Harry a hug as he greets him enthusiastically.
“Haven’t seen you in quite a while. On your lunch break?”
Harry nods as his eyes squint, reaching for the back of his neck as he reads over the menu.
“Yeah, kind of in a hurry today if you don’t mind. Can I just get a medium coffee with almond milk, please? And a slice of apple pie, feeling kind of brisk today.”
Dan works his fingers across the cash register, yelling out his order to the barista before making small talk about the weather. Considering Harry hasn’t been seen in Monmouth nearly as much as he used to, they both found it nice to catch up with each other for the short while they’ve been distanced.
When Dan reaches over to give Harry his spare change, an all too familiar silver ring catches his attention immediately. At first glance, he swears his heart stopped beating.
There’s no way, there’s just no way that could be the ring Harry gave to Y/n. Dan and Y/n have never met before, considering she had only visited here a handful of times during Harry’s lunch break. And even then, she would just stand patiently by the door while Harry waited to retrieve his order.
There’s just no way, but the top of the rose has a particular rust on it that resembles Harry’s perfectly—and no matter how long it’s been since he’s seen it, he’ll never forget what it looks like.
Harry’s hand grips onto Dan’s wrist instead of reaching out to grab the spare change laying upon his palm, flipping over his hand to inspect the silver ring snug almost too perfectly around his finger. He’s aggressive, movements harsh and face tight with anger, but at this point in time, the last thing Harry’s worried about is Dan’s slightly intimidated composure.
“Where did you get this?”
Unlike his demeanor, his voice is soft and breaking between each word. There’s an unrecognizable shift in his eyes when he sees the wear and tear Harry knows he caused before gifting it to Y/n. This is most definitely his, and knowing Y/n was the one who gave it to him makes him nearly throw up all the contents in his stomach.
“Girlfriend gave it to me,” Dan smiles “well, not really my girlfriend yet. But you know how they are. I told her I liked it and she insisted I have it.”
Harry swallows the lump in his throat, making him nearly whimper when he opens his mouth to speak.
He’s never felt so much pain before. The breaking that was once only in his heart spread like wildfire across every bone and ligament in his body. It burns, the sudden realization that Y/n has a boyfriend, that Y/n is no longer going to be there—waiting for him—the way he always expected her to be, that Y/n has taken it upon herself to seek revenge on him so that he can feel everything she felt that one Sunday morning at the grocery store.
And it’s then he realizes that this is nothing compared to everything he’s put her through. In his favor, this is just a stupid ring her gave her for her birthday because he loved the way she twisted it around his finger. It didn’t have much value between them, just something small they shared. He couldn’t imagine the hurt he would have now, standing her, if Dan were wearing their Lover t-shirt.
“Wh—What’s her name?”
His voice is in a whisper now, only the slightest bit of hope draining from his body when he hears Dan speak again.
“Y/n. She’s a good girl, you’d like her.”
Harry almost laughs. You’d like her. He has no idea, he’s in love with her.
It’s as if every part of Harry’s body begins to shut down. Maybe it’s from the shock, or the overbearing pain he feels in his chest, but he suddenly begins to feel lightheaded. His muscles turn numb and all his orientation seems to scramble as if he’s intoxicated.
Dan’s eyes narrow when he sees all the color drain from his face, his eyes widened and soaked with tears. He watches as he nearly falls backward, only to balance himself with his foot when he takes a proper step away from the counter.
“Harry? Harry, you alright?”
Never fucking say my name again is the first proper thought that his brain can register. But his throat is tight and his tongue is numb. He attempts to take a breath of air, but he feels like his lungs are collapsing in his chest, preventing him from doing anything besides stumble uncoordinatedly out of the Monmouth doors.
He’s falling apart—that’s exactly what it feels like. He feels like every limb is falling from his body as he walks towards his car. He doesn’t know exactly how he’s moving, even if he’s stumbling on his own two feet and colliding into stranger’s bodies as he does so, he doesn’t understand how his body finds the strength to keep moving.
Y/n moved on. Y/n’s dating Dan. Y/n gave his ring to him. It’s all over, everything is over.
“No” he mumbles frantically, jealously flowing in his veins, chest heaving from the sobs that are threatening to spill out of him, “no, no no no.”
He starts to wonder where he’s missed it, and exactly how long it’s been since Y/n moved on. She was so broken at the grocery store the other week; what could have possibly altered her feelings that quickly? Did Dan really impact her that much?
But that’s his girl. Y/n is his girl, she’s the one he was so sure he was going to spend the rest of his life with. Even with Jessica, even with everything that’s happened, Y/n is his soulmate, and there isn’t anything in the world that can convince him otherwise.
Nobody is going to take her from him. He refuses to believe she belongs to somebody that isn’t him; there isn’t an atom in his body that doubts their companionship.
Before he thinks twice—before he really gives himself a chance to stop himself—Harry slides his cell phone out of his back pocket once he reaches his car. He slumps against the hood as his fingers work furiously across his screen.
There has to be something, at least some sort of proof that this is really happening to him, that this isn’t in a nightmare he can easily wake himself out of. There had to have been a hint, a warning for him to have. She would have never moved on without saying something to him. They were so strong together, she would have never left without closure.
Nothing about it makes sense.
And then, he sees it.
He falls to his knees, hitting the concrete harshly below him. His body gave out from beneath him, his muscles and bones failing him.
It’s there, right in front of him, mocking him and all the shitty decisions he’s made. It’s there—on Y/n’s private Instagram page—a picture of Dan holding Y/n’s hand on top of a table in Monmouth, Harry’s ring wrapped perfectly around his pointer finger.
One shot request for @damhunterofartemis! “Spencer has a girlfriend and the team doesn’t know about her until they catch him kissing her.” Un-beta’d! Requests are still open! :)
“Honestly, Boy Wonder, you should come out with us tonight. You need to meet someone,” Penelope said as she was scurrying around in her heels, grabbing her purse and outfit change. She, JJ, and Emily extended the Girls Night invite out to the rest of the team.
“Garcia, I appreciate the offer but trust me, I’m fine.” Spencer said, rejecting yet another invite which was met with a pout from the blonde.