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Home Chapter 8

It’s been a long time since Elden had been to Ostwick. It may have been his home, but he has very few fond memories of the place. He never really wanted to go back there, but it looks like he’ll have to one last time. At least Dorian will be at his side. He’ll need the support when he is forced to face his family.


Content Warning: mentions of childhood physical and verbal abuse in the third section.


They were sitting at a table outside a small cafe, reaching across to each other so they could hold hands while they spoke. They’d already finished their breakfast, but they were so caught up they’d lost track of the time. Dorian was leaning on his elbow, distracted by the way the bright morning sunlight played across Elden’s hair, the slight curls ruffled by a gentle breeze.

“What is it?” Elden asked, squeezing his hand gently. There was a knowing glint in Elden’s eye however and suddenly Dorian wished there wasn’t a table between them so he could pull him closer. “Is there a reason you’re smiling at me like that?”

“What can I say, I’m feeling sentimental,” Dorian replied. He hadn’t even realized he’d been smiling to be honest, but then Elden was as smiling back and it was quite the sight. “I love you.”

Elden’s slight blush at that was glorious, especially with the way his face lit up, his smile growing even wider as if he couldn’t have been happier than he was in this moment.

“And I love you,” Elden replied with what must have been all the affection in the world.

Dorian couldn’t help but be caught up in the moment, unable to look away from those gorgeous eyes. There had been a time not long ago when all of this would have been so overwhelming, perhaps even terrifying, when Dorian couldn’t even call what they had ‘love’ for fear that giving it a name would spell its end. It could still be overwhelming at times, the past was a hard thing to shake, but more than anything he loved Elden and would do anything to make him feel the way Elden made him feel. When someone came by to clear away their dishes they were pulled out of their moment, smiling sheepishly at each other.

“Let’s get out of here,” Elden said and Dorian was all too eager to follow.

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buttonfanatic  asked:

Team voltron get those mind melding headbands on are encouraged to share their feelings and emotions for a bonding activity but everyone feels lance holding back and it just feels blank when they try to feel his emotions. After a little prodding he finally gives up and the intense wave of negativity, self hatred, inadequacy, and so much more washes over the team. they are all shocked and overwhelmed and take the headbands off, they're horrified 'cause even now, lance is acting completely normal

Dude, yes!

They take their headbands off, Lance being the last one. He carefully puts it on the ground, drawing out the moment he would need to look at his team, cause he expects… Well, he doesn’t even know what he expects from them, but he at least wants to apologise for putting them through this.

But when Lance lifts his gaze, he sees something he totally did not expect.

Shiro’s forehead is sweaty and his Galra arm is glowing, left hand holding it tightly by the wrist. Lance’s emotions triggered some of his worst memories and now he is fighting an upcoming episode.

Pidge is outright crying, ugly, their glasses on the floor, hands wiping away tears in angry motions until the skin under their eyes is red.

Keith stares into nothingness, he looks like a wax figure, so still, you almost can’t see his breastplate moving from breathing. He fell into some sort of catatonic state.

Hunk is so very pale, he squishes his cheeks painfully with the gloved hand, covering his mouth. The headband that he holds in his other hand crunches from the force of his grip.

Everyone’s so overwhelmed by this waterfall of feelings, they can’t calm down, desperately fighting it, but their brains can’t discern their own emotions from Lance’s. They’re drowning in the whirlpool of fear, self-hatred, a desire to lie down forever and never get up. There’s is a thin voice at the back of their heads that reminds them that this is how Lance feels all the time.

Lance is horrified. He doesn’t know what to do.

If TJLC isn't real...

• Why did Sherlock show an obvious disinterest in women during his first minute of screen time
• Why did Sherlock wink at John when he first met him
• Why did Mrs Hudson assume that John was Sherlock’s new boyfriend
• Why did Sherlock not correct her
• Why did John say ‘oh god yes’ the way he did
• Why does John call Sherlock brilliant and fantastic all the time
• Why did Angelo assume John and Sherlock were on a date
• Why did Sherlock not correct him
• Why did John ask if Sherlock had a girlfriend
• Why did Sherlock say that girlfriends aren’t his area
• Why did John ask Sherlock if he had a boyfriend
• Why did John smile and lick his lips when he discovered that Sherlock was single
• Why did Sherlock assume that John was asking him out
• Why was the scene where they are laughing in the hallway filmed like a post-sex bed scene
• Why did Sherlock cure John’s psychosomatic limp
• Why did Mycroft say ‘may we expect a happy announcement by the end of the week?’
• Why did John instantly trust Sherlock and is loyal to him when he has trust issues
• Why did Lestrade say that John knows Sherlock better than he does even though Lestrade has known him for years and John had known him for a day
• Why the prolonged eye contact
• Why did John shoot a man to save Sherlock even though he had known him for a day
• Why did Sherlock look at John the way he did in the car park
• Why did they get dinner together afterwards
• Why did Sherlock suggest that they go on a date
• Why did Sherlock crash John’s date
• Why did he spin John around by his shoulders in order to ‘maximise his visual memory’
• Why was Sherlock so arsey to Sarah
• Why did Sherlock watch John walk away from Baker Street through the window
• Why did Mrs Hudson ask if they’d had a ‘little domestic’
• Why did Sherlock not correct her
• Why did John sleep on Sarah’s sofa
• Why did Sherlock know that Jim from IT was gay because he is well groomed and uses product in his hair when Sherlock is very well groomed and uses product in his hair
• Why does Sherlock know gay underwear trends
• Why did John say ‘I hope you will be very happy together’ when Sherlock talked about Moriarty
• Why did Donovan say to John ‘opposites attract, I suppose’
• Why did Sherlock look at John after Moriarty said ‘I’ll burn the heart out of you’
• Why did Moriarty say ‘we both know that’s not quite true’ when Sherlock said that he’s ‘been reliably informed that he doesn’t have [a heart]’
• Why did Sherlock freak out so much when he removed the Semtex from John
• Why does that scene look and sound sexual
• Why was John’s first thought ‘I hope nobody saw you ripping off my clothes they might talk’
• Why do they agree to die together
• Why does Sherlock always talk to John even when he’s not there
• Why did Sherlock say that sex doesn’t alarm him
• Why did Sherlock steal an ashtray for John
• Why did Sherlock only look at Irene’s face when she was fully naked
• Why did Irene say ‘somebody loves you, if I had to punch that face, I’d avoid your nose and teeth too’ and look at John
• Why did John get annoyed and say ‘I had a tea at the palace too, if anyone’s interested’
• Why could Sherlock deduce John perfectly but not deduce Irene at all
• Why did Irene say that she wasn’t sure that Sherlock knew ‘where to look’
• Why did Sherlock stutter when John flirted with Irene
• Why was Sherlock’s first thought John when he woke up • Why did John cancel his date to look after Sherlock
• Why did John get annoyed at Sherlock’s erotic moan text alert
• Why did John count the texts that Sherlock got from Irene
• Why did Sherlock ignore all of these texts
• Why did John’s girlfriend say that John is 'a great boyfriend and Sherlock Holmes is a very lucky man’ and that she didn’t want to 'compete with Sherlock Holmes’
• Why was she dressed like Sherlock
• Why can’t John tell his girlfriends apart
• Why did John say that Sherlock acts heartbroken all the time
• Why did John get so angry at Irene when she came back
• Why did he shout 'you’ve texted him a lot!’
• Why did he say 'you… Flirted… With Sherlock Holmes?’ in that tone of voice
• Why did Irene ask if he’s jealous
• Why did Irene (who knows what people like) say that they are a couple
• Why did John not deny this
• Why did John not reply when Irene said 'well I… Am [gay]. Look at us both’
• Why did Sherlock look so emotional after hearing this
• Why did John ask Sherlock how he felt about Irene being alive
• Why did John playfully say 'what, in your bedroom?’ When Sherlock said that they had a client while standing in his room
• Why did Sherlock start talking to John even though he wasn’t present and Irene was
• Why did he say to Irene 'why would I want to have dinner if I wasn’t hungry?’ Even though he always goes to dinner with John and doesn’t eat anything
• Why did John say 'John Hamish Watson, just if you were looking for baby names’
• Why did Irene tell Sherlock to 'impress a girl’ and then he looked at John while deducing
• Why does Sherlock say 'don’t feel obliged to tell that that was amazing or wonderful; John’s already expressed that in every variant available to the English language’
• Why did Sherlock say 'don’t be absurd’ when Mycroft assumed that he loved Irene
• Why did Sherlock randomly say 'I suppose John Watson thinks love’s a mystery to me’ in the middle of a conversation that had nothing to do with John and was about love and sentiment
• Why does Mycroft consult John on matters of Sherlock’s heart
• Why did John look relieved and smile when Sherlock said 'why would I want to see her again?’
• Why did the gay couple that own the inn in Dartmoor assume that Sherlock and John were a couple
• Why did John not correct them
• Why did Sherlock smirk at John when he pulled rank
• Why did John say 'you with your… Cheekbones and turning your collar up so you look cool’
• Why did Dr Frankland refer to John as Sherlocks’s 'live in PA’
• Why did Sherlock defensively ask 'what about us?’ When Henry said 'look at you and John’
• Why did the papers assume that John is a 'confirmed bachelor’ (euphemism for a gay man)
• Why did John say that they 'need to be more careful’
• Why did John not reply when Sherlock asked why other people’s options of Sherlock upset him
• Why did Sherlock and John stare at each other in the mirror while getting ready for the trail
• Why did Sherlock say 'you repel me’ with such poison after Kitty Reilly said that there’s 'all sorts of gossip in the press’ about him and that she can 'settle the record straight’
• Why does Molly say to Sherlock 'you look sad, when you think he can’t see you’
• Why did Sherlock only lose his shit when he thought that John was starting to doubt him
• Why did John chin the chief superintendent for calling Sherlock a weirdo
• Why did John trust Sherlock with holding a loaded gun to his head
• Why was John’s first thought 'people will definitely talk’ after Sherlock held his hand and they ran together down the street
• Why was Sherlock’s first thought 'John’ when Moriarty said that the people he cares about will die
• Why did Sherlock cry on the roof
• Why was Sherlock’s 'last’ words 'goodbye, John’
• Why did John look so heartbroken
• Why did John’s therapist say 'the things you meant to say… But never did. Say them now’
• Why did John refuse
• What were the things he never said
• Why did John say at Sherlock’s grave 'one more miracle, Sherlock, for me. Don’t… Be… Dead’
• Why did John mourn Sherlock more like a lover than a friend
• Why were the S*erl0lololo and S***i4rty ship fan theories dismissed as 'bollocks’ when Johnlock, the main ship in fandom, wasn’t mentioned
• Why did Sherlock look so happy to be returning to London
• Why did Mrs Hudson assume that John was about to tell her he was ill when he was actually about to inform her of his engagement to 'Mary’
• Why did John say that he was 'moving on’ from Sherlock
• Why did Mrs Hudson assume that he was engaged to a man
• Why did Mrs Hudson think that Sherlock was John’s boyfriend after years of knowing them both very well
• Why did Sherlock keep asking about John while Mycroft gave him important information about the terrorists
• Why did Sherlock suggest that he jump out of a cake (which is an action which is usually sexualised)
• Why did Sherlock interrupt John’s proposal to 'Mary’
• Why did John not whisper when proposing to 'Mary’, like he normally does when he is emotional
• Why did John say 'one word, that’s all I would have needed. One word to let me know that you were alive’
• What did he need the one word for
• Why did Sherlock say 'you have missed this… Admit it… just the two of us against the rest of the world’ right in front of 'Mary’
• Why did Sherlock look so hurt as he watched John and 'Mary’ drive away
• Why was solving crimes and going on a date linked together via Molly
• Why did Sherlock keep hearing John’s voice in his head
• Why did he call Molly 'John’
• Why did John shave off his mustache because Sherlock didn’t like it
• Why did John not want 'Mary’ to read his blog
• Why does 'Mary’ always tease John about Sherlock
• Why did John look delighted at the prospect of Sherlock coming to the clinic in disguise
• Why was Sherlock so panicked when he realised that John was in danger
• Why was he more panicked than 'Mary’
• Why did Sherlock run straight into the fire to drag John out while 'Mary’ just kind of… Stood there
• Why did Sherlock cup John’s face
• Why is Sherlock in focus and 'Mary’ isn’t when the camera shows John’s POV
• Why did Sherlock want to get rid of his parents when John arrived
• Why did Sherlock say that he likes his 'doctors clean shaven’
• Why did Sherlock tell John to go and save himself when the bomb switched on
• Why did they have an intense discussion about feelings when John thought that they were about to die
• Why did John say that Sherlock is the 'best and wisest man’ that he has even known
• Why did Sherlock pretend to not care/ forget about the wedding
• Why did he try and get Mrs Hudson to leave when she talked about her maid of honour and the end of eras
• Why did Sherlock sadly stare at John’s chair
• Why did he say 'into battle’ before putting his wedding suit on
• Why do we not see any of the actual wedding
• Why did Sherlock not move when the photographer said 'just the bride and groom, please’
• Why did Sherlock look so weirded out when Janine said 'no sex, okay’
• Why is Sherlock so skilled at gauging the attractiveness of men
• Why did John not care about 'Mary’’s ex coming to their wedding
• Why did Sherlock get obviously jealous of Sholto
• Why did 'Mary’ notice this and say 'neither of us were the first, you know’
• Why did Mycroft tell Sherlock to 'not get involved’
• Why did Sherlock compare his love for John to 'Mary’’s love for John multiple times in his best man speech
• Why did Sherlock go catatonic when John asked him to be best man
• Why was that scene so similar to a marriage proposal
• Why did Sherlock call John 'the bravest and kindest and wisest man’ that he has 'ever had the good fortune of knowing’
• Why the elephant in the room
• Why was John looking for cases to go on with Sherlock instead of planning his wedding
• Why was Sherlock scared of John and 'Mary’ getting married
• Why did John make a weird face when he called Sherlock 'mate’
• Why did Sherlock imply that he was John’s 'current commander’ and that Sholto was John’s 'ex’
• Why did Sherlock get up and leave when John started talking about 'Mary’ changing his life
• Why did John compare his relationship with 'Mary’ to his relationship with Sherlock
• Why did Sherlock look so weirded out when Molly said that she’s having a lot of sex with Tom
• Why does Sherlock have a file on John
• What is in the file
• Why did he print out and glue a picture of John’s face onto a picture of the Vitruvian man (the ideal man)
• Why did John and Sherlock go to a gay bar during the stag night
• Why did the lights look like the bisexual flag
• Why did they lie together on the stairs at Baker Street
• Why did John grope Sherlock’s knee and say 'I don’t mind’
• Why did their feet keep touching
• Why did Sherlock look so upset at Tessa’s story of unrequited love
• Why did he take his arm away from John’s shoulders when Tessa said 'I would of liked to have gone further’
• Why did Sherlock lie on the floor with his arse in the air
• Why did Sherlock refer to the night as a 'wasted opportunity’
• Why did Sherlock ramble about John’s cooking and jumpers in the middle of the speech
• Why did Sherlock tell a room full of women in his mind palace 'not you’ one by one but then pointed at John and said 'it’s always you. John Watson, you keep me right’
• Why did John touch Sherlock on the back when he saw him with Janine
• Why do we see Sherlock give a vow to always be there for John but not see John and 'Mary’ give their wedding vows
• Why did Sherlock teach John how to dance
• Why did Sherlock and John look at each other… The way they did on the dance floor
• Why did John and 'Mary’ act worried, annoyed, angry and panicked to the news of Mary being pregnant
• Why did Sherlock leave the wedding early
• Why did John’s war nightmares come back after not seeing Sherlock in a month
• Why did Sherlock go back to drugs after not seeing John in a month
• Why did John dream about Sherlock
• Why did John dress like and act like Sherlock
• Why are the first glimpses of John and 'Mary’’s married life of them arguing
• Why did Sherlock move John’s chair
• Why did John act… They way he did when he saw Janine come out of Sherlock’s bedroom
• Why did his jaw clench when he heard her getting into the bath
• Why was John so focused on Sherlock and Janine’s 'relationship’ when Sherlock was giving him important case info
• Why did he look so disgusted when they kissed
• Why did Sherlock kiss Janine so… Badly
• Why did John look so heartbroken when Sherlock 'proposed’ to Janine
• Why did 'Mary’ shoot Sherlock
• Why did Sherlock try to go to the John section of his mind palace when mind palace!Mycroft told him to find something to calm him down
• Why did mind palace!'Mary’ shoot Sherlock in her wedding dress when Sherlock went to the John section of his mind palace
• Why did Sherlock restart his own heart when mind palace!Moriarty said 'John Watson is definitely in danger’
• Why did Sherlock never sleep with Janine
• Why did Janine say 'I know what kind of man you are’
• What kind of man is Sherlock
• Why did Sherlock escape hospital while bleeding internally in order to move John’s chair back
• Why did Sherlock and 'Mary’ keep linking John’s romantic preferences to danger to both of them
• Why did Sherlock say 'because you chose her’
• Why did John say 'always your way’
• Why did John’s 'forgiveness’ speech to 'Mary’ seem so stoic
• Why did John leave his unconscious drugged pregnant wife to go off with Sherlock
• Why did Magnussen say 'but look how you care about John Watson’
• Why did Sherlock look so hurt when he was forced to watch Magnussen flicking John’s face and threatening him
• Why did Sherlock shoot Magnussen
• Why did Sherlock get everyone else to leave the Tarmac
• Why did Sherlock say 'there’s something I’ve meant to say always but then never have’
• What did he actually mean to say (Because it clearly wasn’t 'Sherlock is actually a girls name’)
• Why did he say that he thinks the name 'Sherlock Watson’ could work
• Why was the first image in Sherlock’s drug induced Victorian case solving mind palace simulation John’s eyes
• Why was Sherlock so angry at a woman being in his sitting room
• Why did he refer to himself as John’s 'unsavoury companion of dubious morals’
• Why did he play John and 'Mary’’s waltz in his violin while they argued
• Why did Molly call Sherlock John’s daddy
• Why did he talk to John when John had moved out of Baker Street months ago
• Why did the maid point out the problems in John and 'Mary’’s marriage
• Why did Sherlock say that he and John were 'together’ in sign language
• Why did John say 'two old friends chewing the fat… Man to man’ so awkwardly
• Why did Sherlock say that the fairer sex was John’s department
• Why did mind palace!John question Sherlock about his sexual experience
• Why did he show jealousy of Irene Adler
• Why did he ask him why Sherlock needs to be alone
• Why did Sherlock keep referring to ghosts and the ghosts of his past etc
• Why was mind palace!Moriarty so… sexual
• Why did Sherlock deliberately overdose before the tarmac
• Why was he reading the story of how they met on John’s blog
• Why did Mycroft say 'do you really think anyone’s believing you?’ After Sherlock said he was reading it because he’s 'so much cleverer’ through John’s eyes
• Why was real John and mind palace!John so angry at Sherlock about the drugs
• Why did he say that he’s 'happy to play the fool’ for Sherlock and 'make him look clever’
• Why did 'I thought that I was losing you. I thought perhaps we were neglecting each other’ 'well you were the one who moved out’ 'I was talking to Mary’ happen
• Why were phrases such as 'the heart of the conspiracy’ and 'they are right, and we are wrong’ and 'the women we have disparaged and ignored’ used
• Why did Sherlock say that John’s 'always right’
• Why did John save Sherlock from Moriarty at the Reichenbach Falls
• Why did Sherlock say that John is 'pretty damn smart’
• Why did Moriarty say 'why don’t you two just elope for god’s sake?’
• Why did 'actually, would you mind?’ 'Not at all’ happen straight after this
• Why did John kick Moriarty (Sherlock’s weakness) off the top of the waterfall
• Why did Sherlock throw his deerstalker (which represents his heterosexual public image) off the top of the waterfall
• Why did Sherlock look so happy falling this time
• Why did he smile so softly at John when he woke up
• Why did Victorian!Sherlock say 'perhaps such things could come to pass’
• Why did Victorian!Sherlock say that he’s 'a man out of his time’

Whiteboard. Destiel, canon!verse, 1.3k. 
When you fail to say the words, there’s always the option to write it down.

For a while now, there has been a whiteboard in Dean’s room.

Cas often sees Dean use it; to organize clues for cases that he and Sam can’t quite solve, and to write down reminders, or to simply rearrange his thoughts. And, on rare occasions, to draw silly doodles to help him get his mind off of whatever supernatural disaster is next on the agenda.

Currently, aforementioned board is empty though, and Cas stares a hole in it, sitting on Dean’s bed, arms wrapped around his knees, his chin resting on his hands. Dean is there too, right beside him, lying on the other side of the bed, his back to Castiel, his shoulders tense. There might as well be some sort of invisible wall between them, and Cas absolutely hates it. Hates it whenever they fight like this, and what makes it even worse is that Dean refuses to talk. Whenever they have an argument he’ll snap at Castiel, once maybe twice, but after that, it’s usually the silent treatment.

And it makes Castiel feel powerless every time, because how can you fix something when you don’t even get a chance to plead your case?

Dean isn’t sleeping, Cas can tell from his breathing, harsh and uneven. Which must mean that Dean doesn’t like this either, and just like that, inspiration strikes.

“Dean?” Cas mutters quietly, but not unkindly.

A grunt from the other side of the bed.

“I know you’re angry, I know you’d rather not talk, but I thought that maybe…” Castiel pauses, trying to figure out which words to choose. “I thought that maybe we could write it down.”

There’s a huff from Dean, and Cas doesn’t know what to make of that, but he refuses to give up now. Slowly, he gets up from the bed, shuffling towards the whiteboard. He picks up one of the markers, a blue one, and starts writing.

He hears Dean move on the bed, probably getting up as well, and that’s what Cas had been counting on; Dean’s curiosity getting the best of him.

When Cas is done he puts down the marker, his eyes scanning the message one last time.

‘I apologize for what I did yesterday, I’m sorry I went after those rogue angels by myself without telling you. I didn’t want you to get dragged into my problems, and I feared it wasn’t safe for you to come with me. Which you would have, had I told you before I left.’

He hears a muffled sigh behind him, and he’s surprised to see Dean already standing right there. Dean rolls his eyes as he reads the message, but his face relaxes, and the green of his eyes is softer now. After a long moment, he theatrically picks up a marker as well, the green one, giving Castiel that face that says 'do we really have to do this?’

But Dean does it anyway, and writes a reply, the Dean Winchester way that Cas knows so well.

'I want you to drag me into your problems, you idiot, it’s not like I don’t drag you into mine. PS: you forgot to apologize for the part where you almost got killed. PPS: fine, apology accepted. Don’t ever do that again.’

Keep reading

it would be really nice if rosa had a girlfriend and she was small and geeky and one day she came to the precinct and hands rosa a coffee and they hold hands for a second and then jake looks at rosa and is like whaaaaaaat you let her touch you??? and rosa is just like yeah and she let me touch her last night and amy just drops her coffee over her keyboard

the day isak first kisses even at school, he has norwegian class in the morning. he gets to school a little early and there are only a few students in class, and there’s this couple in front of him. they’re holding hands on their desk and he’s not looking at them, but he sees two heads lean in toward each other, knows that they just kissed. it’s nothing, just a quick kiss, and then the class starts and they let go of each other’s hand and isak realizes he never holds even’s hand at school

isak sees couples kiss in the cafeteria and in the hallways. quick kisses before one heads to class, or longer make-out sessions. boys kissing girls and once he saw a boy kiss a boy and just. people kissing people. it happens. he’s putting his physics textbook back in his locker after his last class of the day and next to him there are these two girls he once briefly met at a party, and they’re holding hands and isak doesn’t look but he still sees it from the corner of his eyes, two heads leaning in once again. a kiss 

he texted even when his class was done, and now even is walking up to him, coat on and backpack on his shoulders and ready to leave school and go home. and he gives isak the sweetest smile and isak puts his coat on, looking into even’s eyes as he does. as if he can’t look away, not really wanting to anyway. and even simply holds his gaze, the sweet sweet smile in his eyes as well, and he asks isak “ready?” and isak nods and he just. now his head is leaning in and his lips touch even’s and maybe someone is putting their textbook back in their locker and they notice the kiss from the corner of their eyes. maybe someone is purposely looking. maybe. isak doesn’t really care 

isak takes even’s hand in his own, interlaces their fingers as their mouths part. and then even presses his forehead gently against his and when isak opens his eyes, the same smile is still in even’s eyes but there’s also brightness added to the softness and the warmth. and even asks “a kiss?” and isak’s back is against his closed locker when he sighs contentedly and replies “yeah, why not?”

because, yeah, why not 

keyed.

Originally posted by jiminnieseyesmile

3.8k words

members: jungkook, oc - reader

genre: fluff

warnings: language

You were sick and tired of your attractive idiot neighbor blocking your driveway.

a/n: i felt like writing this weekend and this happened surprise surprise. this is what happens when i’m buzzed off of two venti macchiatos please leave me feedback TT


“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

You blocked out the angry voice shouting at you from your neighbors now open door. The hurried footsteps were getting closer but you pretended you didn’t hear, continuing to drag your key along the shiny black BMW blocking your driveway. Before you could reach the back tires a hand grasped your wrist, turning you around to face your irritating neighbor.

“Oh! Hey there, neighbor,” you grinned, innocently eyeing your neighbor head to toe. He was dressed casually with his hair tousled as though he’d just woken up. His jaw was tense as his hands tightly held your wrist, nothing but anger found in his eyes. You weren’t sure of his first name but had seen him a few times in silent passing. He was relatively new to the neighborhood, keeping to himself along with his roommate you caught quick glimpses of as well. The two had moved in a month ago and you kept to yourself as well, not bothering to play nice and whip up a housewarming desert you couldn’t even properly bake. It wasn’t until a week ago that you realized your neighbors weren’t exactly your cup of tea. They had people over constantly whether they were attending their overcrowded house parties, movie nights or simply staying over till the sun came back up. It seemed whenever the two had guests around their parking lot quickly become full, causing a new issue to arrive. You noticed the brunette, tall one seemed to have a kick out of parking right in front of your light blue beetle making it impossible for you to maneuver around his pricey sports car. The parties seemed to hit an all time high and you constantly found yourself trapped in your own driveway. You left sticky notes on his windshield, kindly asking him to stop blocking your spot and occasionally he would but it wouldn’t take long for him to fall back into his routine. It wasn’t until he made you late to your job earning you a lengthy lecture from your boss, that you felt you’d had enough, storming outside to drag your keys along his prized possession.

Your decision making skills weren’t the best when you were angry.

Keep reading

So yeah maybe I ran out of questions but you ran out of answers.
where the fuck were you when i was half drowned in a bottle of whiskey just asking for a text back?
where the fuck were you when life crawled under my skin and tore itself out from the inside?
where the fuck were you when I was going through it last November and you said looking at pain this close made you uncomfortable?
where do you get off with telling me I shouldn’t talk to him and that he’s bad and he only cares about one thing when the only goddamn time you were interested in me is when my clothes were off and yours were too
look at this game we played because it never was that to me but you only just now put your cards down so you could hold her fucking hand and
i can’t be mad about it I can’t feel it in my chest like a jolt of electricity i can’t beg for you to come back when you were never even here so
yeah
maybe i ran out of questions
but only when you stopped fucking answering them.
—  so block me again we’re not even friends– lily rain
Little Girl

Chris Evans x reader

Notes: dominant, jealous, possessive Chris; but also puppy-dog Chris, smut, fluff. (I just felt like doing this)

Summary: something short about Chris being jealous for no reason and letting you know who your daddy is. 

Originally posted by ncoleys

You knew something was off the moment Chris walked up the few steps into the trailer, and slammed the door shut before locking it behind him. You were used to him sneaking in a private moment with you in between filming, but he always just closed the door quietly and never locked it, or made a show out of it for that matter. Now, he came stalking up to you, making you drop the items of clothing you were about to put back on a rack after steaming them, and just stare.

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Alex dies first, when she’s about 70 or so. It’s sudden and it’s painful and it makes Kara feel like she’ll never be able to breathe properly again. But she manages to pull herself together, for Maggie’s sake. Because the pain Kara feels, Maggie feels it, too.

Maggie’s also 70, but in perfect health, and forced to live in a house by herself. Her and Alex never had children (Kara was enough of a handful), and the small home she built with Alex has never felt bigger or more empty.

So Kara moves in, despite the fact that it’s a longer commute to work, despite the fact she still looks like she’s 35 and doesn’t really have to live with a 70 year old. But Maggie’s a young 70. She gardens and she volunteers and she’s in all sorts of clubs that her and Kara bond over. They talk about Alex constantly, the way her voice sounded, how being in her arms felt like home, how she’d probably laugh at them now and call them Grey Gardens. They miss her, but they miss her together. And sometimes, it feels like Alex is in the room, manifested in the love they feel for her.

Before Kara knows it, Maggie’s 87 and her dementia is worsening. Kara has no option but to put her in a nursing home. It takes weeks and weeks of research, but she finds a nice, quiet place where the staff are gentle and always smiling. And the staff, they love Kara. They tell her constantly how amazing she is, visiting her ‘mother’ every day for hours and hours at a time.

Slowly but surely, Maggie stops remembering Kara. She lights up whenever she sees her, but always needs to ask her name. It hurts Kara more than she ever thought it would, but she still comes back day after day.

Because whenever Kara sees her, Maggie tells stories about a woman she thinks she once knew, a woman with bright shining eyes and a smile that could save the world, a woman who was brave and funny and who loved her sister more than anything. Kara never grows tired of Maggie’s stories.

Just before her 95th birthday, Maggie takes a turn. The nurses tell Kara to prepare for the worst, that it could be days or weeks, and so Kara sits by Maggie’s side for a week and two days, not once leaving the nursing home (the nurses agreed to look the other way). She sits by Maggie’s side and she holds her hand until Maggie takes her last breaths. She doesn’t leave the room until the nurses escort her out.

And it’s only then, once Maggie’s finally gone, that Kara feels like she’s truly lost Alex. She’s lost her sister. She’s lost her best friend. She knows it’s time.

Kara goes to the DEO and informs them of a safety deposit box hidden in one of the back rooms. They retrieve it, and inside there’s a vial of liquid kryptonite, a sedative, and a will filled with instructions on what is to happen next.

She passes quietly, peacefully, on her own terms, having lived a fulfilling life. She’s laid to rest as Kara Danvers, right beside her sister, a red cape draped over her coffin, her family’s insignia on her tombstone.

And while the world mourns Supergirl, nobody mourns Kara Danvers. Because the two people who loved her the most are finally reunited with her, somewhere among the stars.

y3daner  asked:

top ten times yuuri katsuki broke the internet

Top Ten Times Yuuri Katsuki Broke The Internet:

10) The day that Viktor impulse bought a piano and then posted a video of Yuuri playing it and singing quietly which was when everyone found out that Yuuri could play and also sang like an angel. The general reaction was ‘is there anything this guy can’t do?’ to which Viktor’s reply was ‘no.’

9) When Yuuri and Viktor got their new labradoodle puppy together the first the world knew about it was a picture of Yuuri on the floor in a puppy pile with Vicchan, Makkachin and the new puppy and it was so adorable it went viral instantly

8) The ‘not if, when’ moment talked about in chapter 1 of ‘obs&bh’ because that was one of the big kick off moments for the rivalry image

7) When Yuuri skated onto the ice to ice dance with Viktor for the Stammi Vicino duet which was Viktor’s exhibition piece the year after the events of chapter 14

6) The first time Yuuri ever did a shirtless photoshoot (with Viktor because Viktor knew he would be more comfortable doing it if it was both of them so he offered to do it too). It was all very classy and most of the photos involved the two of them together and 90% of the internet had one of the ‘do I want to be one of them or be between them’ crises  

5) A video of an 11 year old Yuuri skating the ‘O mio babbino caro’ routine, aka Viktor’s JGP routine, that he released to the public. This was after they were together but before the world really knew what caused the rivalry in the first place and so everyone completely freaked out because kid-Katsuki was adorably replicating one of Viktor’s routines but the first time Katsuki came into the spotlight he seemed to hate Viktor so what did this mean??? It created so many conspiracy theories.

4) When Yuuri co-wrote a book telling his and Viktor’s story. In interviews and things before they had spoken a bit about what had lead up to The Kiss and their lives but it was the first time the whole, unabridged and completely accurate story was known and the first time anyone knew about the original cause of the rivalry. It was a brutally honest book and very compelling, telling both sides of the story (Viktor contributed a lot but Yuuri already knew his side by heart at that point) and became a huge bestseller.

3) The wedding announcement although again, who proposed and how is currently a secret

2) The main wedding photo that they released. It was a private ceremony because they lived a lot of their life in the public eye and Yuuri wanted something that was just for them so friends and family only. There were a couple of pictures from guests but they only released one official photo. It was taken at the altar of the two of them holding hands and gazing into each others eyes and they looked so ridiculously happy and in love that it finally killed the last of the rumours about them and made everyone who had doubted it believe that Yes, they were actually that in love because no-one could fake that

1) The Kiss

Come Here - Jughead x Reader

Request — Anonymous asked: Can you write one where you think jughead looks amazing in the south side jacket and you let him know and you always pull him by the jacket to kiss him

A/N — I could not get over this request, that finale episode of Riverdale last night FUCKED me up so bad like… can Jughead not get any hotter it’s great and I’m actually loving it. Also, this contains spoilers (duh) since it’s based on episode 13 so if you haven’t watched it yet I’d recommend not to read it if you haven’t watched it yet. Anyway I hope you enjoy this imagine and it may or may not turn into some sort of smut (?), and I’ve changed this up a bit so I hope you don’t mind.

Words: 1050

Warnings: Heavy make out

(Y/N) , (Y/L/N) , (H/C) , (E/C) - Your name, your last name, hair colour, eye colour.

Riverdale was finally coming to a peace. The mystery of Jason Blossom’s murder finally came to a close and all was calm. (Y/N), Jughead, Archie, Betty and Veronica all sat in a booth at Pop’s sipping on a milkshake flavour of their choice. This whole year, you and Jughead got closer and closer due to working on the case with him and the rest of the gang trying to figure out the murder of Jason. Spending long hours alone with you and your crush at the Blue and Gold after school made you really realise your feelings about him and how it affected you. One night, (Y/N) and Jughead stayed together investigating down at Sweetwater River and shared a kiss since the two of you knew that there was sexual tension was there with them. Ever since that incident they haven’t touched each other since. Sure, every time they have a moment alone they always wonder who’s leading who first, but the both of you were two shy at that moment.

After Pop’s, Archie walked Veronica, Betty went home to join her family for dinner and Jughead took (Y/N) to his FP’s house in the Southside. When Jughead broke the news to everyone that he got transferred to Southside High and live with his new foster family instead of living in Riverdale with Archie and his dad. Everyone was shocked and devastated by the news but not as much as (Y/N). So this was her only chance to try express her feelings towards him before he leaves since she doesn’t know when she’ll ever see him again. He bent down to the doormat in front of the door, picking up a key and digging it into the door. The house was still knocked around and ruined since he last came and had his breakdown, making Jughead get chills. You knew something was bothering him, so you walked over and held onto his arm.

“Hey Juggie, are you okay?” You asked him, looking up into his green eyes with your (E/C) ones. He sighed deeply, taking off his familiar crown-shaped beanie and throwing it to the ground.

“I don’t know, I mean… I’m not feeling it. This place just reminds me of him, y’know. This may be my last time ever coming here, (Y/N), since I have no idea how long my dad will be in jail for and I’ll be living with my foster family.” He brushed a hand through his hair as he explained to her the situation. He sat down on FP’s couch, holding his face in his hands as shortly after, you joined him.

“H-Hey, Jug? Since this may be the last time I talk to you for a while, God knows how long, I just wanted to get something straight. Since we kissed at Sweetwater River that one night, I literally have not stopped thinking about you. I’ve had this feeling about you for, I don’t know, months now. You make me so happy every time I see you and it makes me smile knowing that you actually acknowledge me. I guess,” (Y/N) paused. “I guess I love you, Jughead. I love you, Jughead Jones.”  You finally admitted. He stared at you, before you noticed his lips creep up into a smile as he scooted over to you, placing his hand on yours as he stroked his thumb against your soft skin.

“I love you, (Y/N) (Y/L/N).” He smirked at you, making you bite your lip. And just like that, you found your lips back on his once again. The familiar sensation running through your body sent tingles down your spine as it did for him as well. He moved his hand from yours to your left cheek as the kiss deepened. You felt yourself smile in the kiss as your tongues intertwined.

As the two of you both pulled away, he smirked leaning over and pulling you onto his lap and kissed you passionately once again in his arms. You pulled his face against yours again connecting each others lips. He moved his hands to grip onto your shirt clinging at your waist as your tugged on his hair. A small groan escaped his lips, easily turning him on. He then picked you up, pushing your back against a wall as he held you up, quickly after attaching his swollen lips back at (Y/N)’s matching ones. As you tipped your head back, he kissed his way down to your neck, nibbling against your collarbone making a moan escape your lips. In the middle of leaving his mark against your burning skin until a loud knock interrupted your heavy moment, breaking up the intense moment. Jughead quickly put you down as he fixed his clothes, walking towards the door and opening it.

As (Y/N) waited for him to be finished, she quickly stood up pulling her jacket over her body as she waited behind the door to find a returning Jughead, holding his fathers Serpent jacket. He shut the door, staring down at it.

“Is it your dad’s?” You asked in curiosity. Jughead simple just nodded, still scanning his eyes over the embroidery stitched into its leather.

“Should I?” He turned his gaze to settle on her, wondering if he was to wear it. “The Serpents dropped by and gave me it. They have my back, (Y/N), does that make me one too?”

“Jug, if you want to join The Serpents that doesn’t make you a bad guy. Stop worrying, at least try on the jacket!” She gushed over him, leaning against the wall as she watched him.

Jughead stared down at the jacket, taking in it’s final details before slipping it onto his broad arms, turning to look at a mirror as he adjusted it, a smirk falling onto his lips as he turned back to look at you. “So, how do I look?”

(Y/N) smirked, taking herself off the wall as she bit her lip, strutting over to him.

“I’m loving this bad boy Jughead Jones, hopefully I get to see him more often. Come here.” She smirked back at him, pulling him to her by his jacket and leaned up to finish where they left off.

A/N — So this didn’t exactly fit the request, so hopefully this can be a part 2 sometime when I get some time to write it where the reader pulls him around by his jacket because it’s so hOt. Anywho, I hope you enjoy this imagine although I rushed the fuck through it so please don’t mind me.

anonymous asked:

okay J, now that the writers queerbaited the fuck outta us, it's time for you to work your magic and give us a longer version of the "belated valentine's day prom". PLLLLLLLLLEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAASSSSSSSSEEEEEE

A continuation of this – http://queergirlwriting.tumblr.com/post/157525909609/man-i-would-fucking-love-to-get-a-scene-where-kara

She calls it a pet peeve. But it’s not.

It’s a trauma.

She calls it a pet peeve. But it’s not.

It’s a need.

It’s a need because she was fourteen and high school was amazing because Eliza held her hand and Eliza snuck her dad’s cigarettes down from the house and they crawled into the bathroom of the basement and giggled, their lips so close – Eliza’s lips looking so soft – as they blew the smoke out of the small vent so Eliza’s parents wouldn’t catch them.

But it wasn’t the smoke that Eliza’s parents caught.

It was the card.

The card, the card, the card.

The fucking valentine’s day card.

The betrayal that ended everything.

Because her father called her downstairs with the phone still in his hand and her father smacked her across the face with the back of that hand and her father gave her ten minutes to pack her things and to get out of his house and to never come back because she is filthy and she is ungrateful and she is selfish and she is wrong, and her mother cried but her mother didn’t stop him, and her face stung and her heart stung worse and her hands trembled but her face stayed dry because she would never give anyone the satisfaction of seeing her break for being who she is.

She calls it a pet peeve. Needing to be heard.

Because Eliza didn’t hear her. Her father didn’t hear her. None of her exes had ever heard her.

She calls it a pet peeve because no one has ever loved her enough to let her call it trauma.

Until Alex Danvers, that is.

Because she leaves Alex a card: she leaves Alex a card, and Alex will not give it to her parents. She gives Alex a card, and Alex will do nothing but love her back.

Or she hopes.

She’s probably stupid for hoping. But she hopes anyway.

James and J’onn help her with the set-up, and Winn whips together the dress at the last minute before running off on his own valentine’s excursion. James kisses her cheek before he leaves, as 8 o’clock approaches, and J’onn puts a hand on her shoulder.

“Alex cares for you, Maggie. Just as you are. Let her hold you up when you need it. You deserve that. You do. I promise.”

She gulps and she nods and J’onn squeezes her shoulder.

“He’s right, Maggie,” James tells her before giving the room one last glance. “It looks beautiful. And so do you.”

Maggie grimaces a smile at them, and they understand that she’s too nervous to speak, that she’s too terrified to move. They smile at her before they leave, and she hangs onto the hope that these people, these beautiful people, will still love her after tonight.

She doesn’t know how long she waits for Alex, because she can’t think. She can’t do anything but try to swallow her panic, surrounded by red helium balloons and candlelight and all the things that reminded her of the bruise her father left on her face and the welts he left on her heart.

She can’t do anything but try to focus on Alex, Alex, Alex. On hoping that Alex will be different.

This is a relationship, Alex had insisted. And it’s that statement, Alex fighting for her, for them, that is keeping Maggie holding on.

“Wow, you’re breathtaking,” she says when Alex walks in, because god, god, god, she is.

“Maggie, what is all this?”

Alex’s voice trembles slightly as she asks, and somehow, that warms the protective steel around Maggie’s heart. She smiles slightly, her voice softer now.

“It’s your belated Valentine’s Day prom.” She reaches for the corsage and sends James a silent thank you for running to the florist and picking up exactly what Maggie had described.

“May I?” she asks, and her body tingles with relief as her fingertips touch Alex’s wrist.

Alex exhales hard, exhales shakily, and steps around Maggie, and the back of the dress – god, thank you, Winn Schott – takes Maggie’s breath away. Again.

“I’m sorry. So sorry. I was too busy nursing my own wounds, and I forgot to look at the gorgeous woman in front of me and consider her feelings. You deserved all of this, as a girl. The pomp and the fuss. And you deserve an amazing romance with a woman who is absolutely crazy about you.”

She tilts her head and she stares up at Alex, because Alex is perfection, and Alex’s hands are warm in hers, and Alex makes the color red on Valentine’s Day a little less terrible, a little less traumatic.

But Alex is shaking her head and Alex is reaching her fingers up to run them through Maggie’s hair, to stroke her cheeks, to fuss with her blazer’s collar.

Maggie’s heart sinks and she starts panicking, she starts hyperventilating, but then Alex is talking, and Maggie wants to cry for an entirely different reason.

“Maggie, I… you deserve this. The pomp and the fuss. An amazing romance with a woman who is absolutely crazy about you. And I’m absolutely crazy about you. And that… that means… Maggie, that means you don’t have to make it all about me, all the time. I love that you… I love that you thought about me, I love that you did all this, but Maggie, you…”

She stops and she stares down at Maggie’s wet eyes for a long moment, and there’s nothing but unguarded love in her eyes, and no one has ever existed but the two of them.

“You have nothing to apologize for. You didn’t do anything wrong. Maggie, I… I heard you. I heard everything you said. And because I heard you, I… I don’t want you to just shove all that back down to make everything about me. Again. You did it while I was coming out, and I get it, and you’re so sweet, Maggie, but I don’t… I don’t want you putting yourself second for me, not anymore. I don’t want you burying your pain, your… trauma, Maggie, you were a child, that was traumatic, I… I want you, Maggie.”

She brings her fingers to a lips and kisses them, one by one, slowly, deliberately, all while keeping her eyes locked in Maggie’s, before she continues.

“All of you. And this is beautiful, this is amazing, but Maggie, I want you to feel able to just… to vent, and to scream, and to lose your cool, to cry. With me. Because I want you, Maggie, I care about you, not… not just what you can do for me. You letting me in, you letting me care for you, letting me comfort you? That’s the greatest gift you could ever give me, Maggie. You… you letting me love you.”

Alex stumbles to a halt and Maggie’s breath hitches as they both realize what Alex said, as they both lose themselves in each other’s eyes, in each other’s hands, in each other’s hearts.

“Danvers, you – Alex, I – “

Alex shakes her head with closed eyes. “You don’t have to say anything. I just… I want you to know that you’re cared for. That you’re safe. That you’re allowed to put yourself first, that I want you to put yourself first. That you have absolutely nothing to apologize for. That you’re perfect. That I l…”

She stares down at Maggie’s wide eyes and she licks her lips and she is Alex Danvers, dammit, so she dives.

“That I love you. Maggie Sawyer. All of you. And I just want you to let me love you, let me care for you, let me be here for you. Let me love you.”

Maggie takes one breath, and then another, and then one word escapes her lips.

The only word that matters in the entire multiverse.

Alex.”

And her hands are on the small of Alex’s bare back and Alex’s hands are tangling in her hair, cupping her face, her thumbs swiping across her cheeks, and Alex’s lips are soft and Alex’s lips are healing and Alex’s lips are heaven, and she’s never cried while she kissed anyone, she’s never cried in front of anyone without running out the door before the first tear could fall, but she’s crying now, and Alex is catching her tears with her thumbs and kissing them away with her lips, but Maggie doesn’t want Alex’s lips on her cheeks, her eyes – she does, she does, but later, later, because there will be a later, because Alex went to the dance with her, Alex didn’t give her note to her parents, Alex came to the dance with her and Alex is kissing her and Alex is holding her and Alex, Alex, Alex  – Maggie just wants, right now, Alex’s lips on her own, and she shifts, and Alex knows, because Alex knows her, and Maggie’s lips are parting and Alex is slipping her tongue in her mouth gently, gently, lovingly, and Maggie sighs into their kiss and Alex echoes it and their breathe, their heartbeats, their bodies, are indistinguishable as their bodies sway to music and to swaying lights and to the rhythm of their perfect kiss.

“I love you back, Alex Danvers,” Maggie’s whispering into her lips, and the tears dripping salt onto her lips are suddenly not only her own, and she pulls back, because Alex Danvers crying is heartbreaking, and Alex Danvers crying is beautiful.

Their chests are both heaving slightly and their lips are swollen and their bodies are flush against each other and their bodies are intertwined and their eyes refuse to leave each others.

“May I have this dance?” Alex asks her breathlessly, and Maggie smiles helplessly, because she knows her life will never be the same.

Because she knows that Alex means it when she says she loves her, and god, god, god does it feel good to be loved – and to love – like this.

“Carnations” (Part 1)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader (College AU)

Summary: A carnation fundraiser, an iota of possibility, and a longtime secret crush on your hot best friend - what could go wrong?

many thanks to the effervescent @buckyywiththegoodhair for beta-reading! i love you, you colorful tropical fish with scales made of diamonds! x

“Carnations” (Masterlist)

“(Y/N), if you really don’t want to help, you can leave. It’s okay.”

You snap out of your involuntary trance, meeting the peeved eyes of the tall figure in front of you. Your eyelids rapidly close and open before you blankly mutter, “Huh?”

“Since we started setting up, you’ve sighed thirteen times, loudly scuffed your shoe against the floor seven times, and spaced out four times. It doesn’t take a genius to see that you don’t want to do this.”

It takes a lot to annoy actual angel Steve Rogers, but somehow you’ve accomplished just that in only five minutes. Sheepish guilt washes over you, and you quickly insist, “I’m so sorry. But I swear I want to help!”

“Are you sure? You look a little preoccupied, and I can also do this myself if something’s –“

“No, no, I want to help. I promise,” you firmly repeat. You furiously tape the banner to the table’s edges as if to show how determined you are to help. “I didn’t mean to be a drama queen and space out.” 

Steve tiredly rubs his palm against his face. “Is everything okay?” he asks. The concern in his voice makes the guilt expand in your lungs, compelling you to cast your eyes downwards.

When faced with a small deficit in the Student Government budget, Steve came up with the carnation sale. Students could order flowers –red for love, pink for friendship, and white for secret admiration– and cabinet members would deliver them to the recipients’ respective dorms.

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Andrew thinks he doesn't like kids. Andrew's wrong.

Andrew doesn’t like children on principle. They’re noisy, excitable, annoying, and regularly deplete the chocolate ice cream supply in his local shop before he can get to it.

So why he is now driving hundreds of miles solely to visit a pair of four-year-olds is anyone’s guess. Although, he has to admit, the blue-eyed man to his right might have something to do with it.

For some reason, Neil adores Dan and Matt’s kids. He met them as babies - crying, sniveling, wrinkly things - and yet was not put off. Andrew can’t understand it. They’re twins, for God’s sake. Double the attention-seeking nuisance. He gets enough of that from the cats. He ended up having pictures of them shoved in his face for the next four years as Neil excitably told him about Willow’s first steps, Clara’s first word, their first baby teeth …

Then Dan and Matt had moved to just a state over, and Matt had started urging Neil to visit.

“No,” Andrew had said firmly, when Neil mentioned it. He should have known something was up when Neil let him put extra syrup on his pancakes that morning. Their coach had been trying to put Andrew on a reduced-sugar diet and, annoyingly, Neil was on the balding man’s side. “We are not driving five hundred miles to visit a couple of kids. If Matt wants you to see them so badly, he can bring them to one of Allison’s stupid Fox reunions.”

Neil had just looked at him for a minute, expression open and eyes so, so blue. “Clara gets nervous around new people. Matt doesn’t think she could handle meeting everyone at once.”

Andrew felt his resolve cracking, but kept his expression stony. Not that it did much good; Neil seems to be able to read him no matter what walls he puts up.

“He also tells me there’s an ice cream parlour near their house which gives you unlimited toppings for two dollars.”

Andrew frowned, and Neil knew he’d won. It was written all over his smug face.

“Is that a yes?” he asked with a cheeky smile.

“I hate you. Yes.”

“I’ll tell Matt we’ll see them next month.”

And so, on the first weekend of the off-season, they stock up the cats’ food and water dispensers that Neil had bought for when they were at away-games, pile into the car, and set off on their trip to visit the Boyd-Wilds household.

“No cigarettes near the kids,” says Neil sternly, tucking the carton away securely in the glove compartment. Andrew scowls but doesn’t protest, and when they next pull up at a gas station he buys four packets of boiled sweets in defiance and sucks on them obnoxiously for the remainder of the journey. Neil glares at him every time the packet rustles, and eventually snags Andrew’s free hand in his own to keep it occupied. Andrew links their fingers together and says nothing, opting to grab a new sweet with his other hand whenever they stop at a red light.

They arrive in the early afternoon, pulling up outside a uniform-looking white house in a row of many others. It’s a quiet neighbourhood, and their car had drawn attention from more than one passer-by on their way here. Andrew swipes the keys from Neil, who had been driving the last leg, and makes sure the car is locked before turning to walk through the gate Neil holds open.

The door is open before they can even think about ringing the bell and a tall figure emerges, carrying a much smaller one in his arms.

“Neil!” exclaims Matt. “And my favourite Minyard. Come on in.”

Andrew narrows his eyes but follows Neil and Matt inside without complaint. Matt sets twin number one down and immediately clasps Neil in a fierce hug, releasing him a second later with a wary glance at Andrew.

Neil rolls his eyes. “Good to see you too, Matt.”

“Looking good, Neil,” calls Dan, emerging slowly with twin number two clutching onto her leg - Clara, Andrew presumes. “What’s all this I hear about you two being signed to the US Court?”

“Nothing, yet,” replies Neil slyly, hopping out of the way as Willow barrels past him. “You shouldn’t put so much stock in what the media says.”

“Right,” says Matt, grabbing his unruly daughter and hoisting her into his arms again. “Like your supposed rivalry for the first few years of your career. Or how you supposedly got married in the Bahamas last year - wait, you didn’t, did you?”

Neil shakes his head with a grin. “Hello,” he says to Willow, who is now taller than him from where she sits in Matt’s arms.

“Hi!” she shouts, wriggling in Matt’s grip until he puts her down. She then proceeds to skip in circles around Neil, who stares at her in bewilderment. Andrew feels a strange sense of smugness.

They haven’t eaten since breakfast, not counting the sweets on Andrew’s part, so Dan makes them each a sandwich as the kids retreat to the garden to play with Matt. From what Andrew can see through the large French windows, they appear to be playing catch with a tennis ball. He shakes his head. There is no escaping the sports junkies. As if to prove this point, Neil goes out to join them at the first opportunity.

Andrew retreats to the living room, taking a seat on one of the large leather couches as he receives a text from Nicky, who has apparently been kept well-informed about their trip by Neil and is now eager to find out if Andrew’s opinion of children has been miraculously changed by what he calls ‘Dan and Matt’s angels’. Andrew is just about to type out a resounding ‘no’ when Clara appears at the door to the room, staring silently at Andrew for a minute before crossing to sit on the sofa with him.

He tilts his head to look at her for a minute, but when she doesn’t make any attempt at conversation he turns back to his phone.

‘Don’t know’, he sends back, just before everyone else piles into the room, loud and excitable. Neil glances at Andrew and Clara on the sofa, curiosity clear on his face, but when they make no move to interact with each other he turns his attention back to Matt and Willow, who appear to be reenacting one of Neil’s impossible goals from the previous season. Andrew hates that Neil doesn’t seem concerned that Andrew is in such close proximity to a small, defenceless, unpredictable child, hates that Neil has so much faith in him when he’s sure Dan and Matt still see him as a monster, and h a t e s the gentle smile that spreads across Neil’s face as he watches Matt and Willow play.

Clara lets out a small laugh when her sister mimes being checked rather dramatically into the wall of the court, but when Andrew turns his gaze to her she looks down again, hugging her knees to her chest in an obvious attempt to make herself smaller. Andrew knows the move well. His hands shake slightly as he’s tugged back into his past as a foster child, and he pulls out a sweet to unwrap to keep himself distracted. He wonders absently if there’s a child out there who’s like him - who’s crying out for help from people who will never understand them. He shakes the thought from his head. He may understand, but he’s in no position to help.

Then he looks at Neil, who rescued two stray cats and coaxed them back to health, who’s now managed to calm Willow down enough to crouch down and talk to her animatedly about something, grins covering both their faces, and he can’t stop the shiver that runs through him. He thinks, what if -

He’s jolted out of his thoughts by the realisation that Clara is looking at him - or, more accurately, she’s looking at the sweet wrapper he’s worrying between his fingers. He blinks, watching her for a moment before pulling out another sweet. He glances across the room, but no one’s looking at them, so he surreptitiously slides the sweet across the surface of the sofa and pulls his hand back, staring forwards the entire time. Clara snatches the sweet up and unwraps it, popping it in her mouth. The next time their eyes meet, she smiles.

By the time Neil’s ready to leave, Clara has visibly relaxed, a smile stuck on her face as her sister teases her and she responds by sticking out a tongue stained yellow from the lemon sherbets. When they’ve all said goodbye, she steps towards Andrew with her arms held out questioningly. He stiffens for a second, then crouches down, allowing her to wrap her arms around him briefly. He almost - almost - mirrors her smile when he sees the shocked looks on Dan and Matt’s faces, but it’s their very presence that prevents it. He instead turns his attention to squashing the warmth blossoming in his chest, but fails miserably when he sees the grin that lights up Neil’s face.

“Don’t even think about it,” he says once they’re back in the car, but his words hold no heat.

Neil just smiles wider. “So, ice cream?”

“Ice cream,” Andrew agrees, reaching for his cigarettes where they lie in the glove compartment. At the last second though, his hand stills, and he reaches for another sweet instead.

After all, there will be no smoking around the kids.

READ PART TWO HERE.

I know all I can do right now is talk about the Renora scene on the airship but can we please talk about the renora scene on the airship? But most importantly..REN’S EXPRESSIONS. 

When he first looks at her, he looks a little unsure but then his face gradually turns into a soft expression. 

It’s like Ren made the realization that he loves Nora (although, he probably realized that earlier when Nora pushed him under the building…or earlier than that but it’s now more apparent that the Grimm that killed his parents is dead and that’s A LOT off his shoulders and mind). 

AND THEN HE STARTS MOVING HIS HAND TO HOLD HER HAND AND UGH THIS SCREENCAP DOESN’T DO ENOUGH TO CAPTURE HIS GROWING SMILE. ONE MILLION BLESSINGS TO THE ANIMATION TEAM FOR SAYING SO MUCH WITH JUST THE TINIEST LITTLE MOVEMENTS OF HIS FACE.

NORA’S INITIAL REACTION IS SO PURE AND CUTE AND EVERYTHING I EVER NEEDED. (And Ren’s face is just…wow…have you ever seen him more serene with the world because I haven’t)

And then Ren puts his hand on-top of Nora’s and Nora holds up his hand and I can just see her examining it like “he really put his hand on my hand”. The way they readjust their hands just kills me in the best way. 

NORA’S EXPR/ESSION HERE IS EVEN PURER THAN THAT LAST ONE AND IT JUST SCREAMS “REALLY?”. Like, she’s looking at him to make sure what’s happening is really happening…that he might have the same feelings for her that she’s felt for him for so many years. 

AND HE JUST CONFIRMS EVERYTHING SHE’S THINKING (AND HE /KNOWS/ SHE’S THINKING) BY GIVING A LITTLE NOD/CLOSING HIS EYES. 

THAT LOOK RIGHT THERE I WILL TALK ABOUT THIS LOOK ALL DAMN DAY, WEEK, YEAR, AND CENTURY. THAT IS LOOK IS LOVE.

I thought this entire scene did an amazing job of developing their relationship and taking it beyond being close friends/crushes with just the smallest details in the animation. A kiss would have amazing and gladly accepted, but I thought their expressions and body language did soooo much more than what a kiss could have done here (besides, there’s plenty more time for kisses in the next volume ;)). 

first love

jeff atkins x reader

word count: 904

warnings: death


“Babe, hurry up. Jessica’s party is in 2 hours and I promised I would help her set up.” Jeff said entering you room which was now covered in clothes. “Wow it looks like your closet threw up in here.”

“It’s the first party of my junior year and your senior one.” You said scavenging your clothes. You sat on the floor and threw the shirt in your hand. “I just want to look cute.”

“Y/N,” Your boyfriend said as he knelt next to you. “You’ll look beautiful in whatever you choose to wear, okay? But if you want my opinion, wear the that dress I bought you last month. I always thought you looked hot in it.”

You smiled up at your boyfriend who was now standing and holding out his hand. Taking his hand, you stood up and kissed him. “Thank you, J”

You went your bed and picked out the black dress. “Now get out so I can put on my face and get ready.”

“I can’t stay for the show?” He asked with a smirk.

“Out!” You said laughing pushing Jeff out your room.


You got to Jessica’s place early to help with the set up but not really so when Jeff went to go help the guys with the kegs you chatted with your friends Jess and Clay.

Clay was the one that had set you and Jeff up after hearing about your crush on the senior from Hannah.

By 10, the party was in full swing. Most kids were inside the house sitting in couches some were talking, others not so much. You were amongst the ones sitting in the living room talking to Tony.

You were in full conversation with your friend when you saw Jeff make his way out the room. You apologized to Tony and cut the conversation short. “And where are you going mister?” You said getting ahold of your boyfriend.

“Hey, I’m on provisions so I’m just gonna grab a couple more beers from the store.” He said.

“Okay, I’m coming too,” You happily said taking his large hand in your petite one.

“Nah babe, you don’t have to. Have fun with your friends, it is a party after all.”

You gave him the look and he knew there was no point in arguing. “Fine. Only cause you’re cute.” He kissed the top of your head.


You two successfully got the beers and you were on your way back.

You put on the radio and John Legend was on. “Oh my gosh, our song!” You squealed. This was the song that played in the background when you two first had sex.

“Cause all of meeee, loves all of youuu.” You and Jeff sang, pointing at each other. You held his hand as the chorus continued, wishing you could stay in this moment forever. Little did you know both your lives would change, in a major way.

You two were so mesmerized by one another you didn’t notice another car come out of nowhere. “Jeff, watch out!” You screamed as the car came rushing towards you. And that was the last thing you saw before darkness eclipsed you.


“Y/N, wake up. Wake up, baby girl.” Jeff said standing over you. “I need you to wake up for me.”

And you did.

You slowly lifted you heavy eyelids as the strong smell of anti-bacterial cleaner filled you nose. Your mouth was dry and you were laying down, in a bed it seemed, and the room was bright. Light from the window reflecting off the white walls, made you want to close your eyes again. You felt like you had slept for years, but you was still tired.

You heard the beeping of a machine and slowly turned your head towards the source of the noise. The muscles in your neck were stiff and sore. You saw your mother sitting in a chair by the window.

“Mom,” You said weakly.

“Hey,” She whispered, sitting at the edge of your hospital bed.

“Why am I…?” You said as you tried to sit up.

“You were in a coma, sweetie.” She said and your eyes widen. “Just for two days.”

You noticed your moms facial features. her eyes were sporing major bags and they were puffy and red. Has she been crying?

“Mom, where’s Jeff?” You asked looking around.

“Y/N, Jeff..uh..He didn’t make it.” She said as tears started brimming her eyes. “I know how much you loved him.”

"No, no no there’s no way,” You stuttered. This can’t be true. Jeff Atkins cannot die.

“Honey, I am so sorry but he … he died on scene.”

You were numb. Why him? You wanted to scream. Why him? “ B-But I-I didn’t- I didn’t get to say goodbye,” You sobbed. You couldn’t believe that the love of your life was…gone.

“Sshh, Y/N. Everything will be okay.” You mom said  trying her hardest to soothe you. She laid next to you and wrapped her arms around you fragile body.

“I loved him, Mom. I loved him so much and now-” You cried into your moms chest.

“I know sweetie, I know.” She stroked your hair. “He loved you very much.”

“It was should have been me.” You clung to your mom as the nights events played over and over in your head.

Losing someone you deeply care about hurt. He was your first love and you will always love him. Always.


masterlist

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Tom Holland x Reader: Apartment

Summary: You and Tom Holland are neighbors in the same apartment complex. You have a crush on him, he has a girlfriend. What could go wrong? You could think of five separate incidents.

Warnings: cursing

Word count: 7,132


No 1: the coffee maker incident (which was all harrison’s fault)

The moment your knuckles leave the door it’s already swinging back, revealing a face flushed with relief. Tom Holland’s eyes flutter closed, leaning his head against the door frame and looking up at you through his lashes with a smile plastered on his face.

“Oh thank god you actually came. You’re good at fixing things, right?” he asked, ushering you into his apartment before hearing your answer. You’re a little reluctant to enter, thinking that you’ll somehow track mud across his pristine white carpet, or smudge a stain on his suede chairs that weren’t in there the last time you’d been over.

“I’m good at putting Ikea furniture together, if that’s what you mean,” you call after him as you hop around on one foot, attempting to slide your boots off without appearing like a fool. You look around once more, taking in the features of Tom’s place.

You can’t say you like what he’s done. There are too many colors; blues and yellows that are too bold, an abundance of throw pillows against a couch that you swear your parents had gushed over in a Rooms-To-Go catalog. None of it looks like him, and you have an inkling as to why, but you keep your mouth shut as you follow the sound of two voices into his kitchen.

“You help me with my T.V all the time. Are you good with stuff like this?” Tom inquires, looking at you over his shoulder. He’s standing in front of something, hunched over the island in the center of the room. On his left, staring at you over his mug, Harrison is sipping away on something.

There’s a smug look in his blue eyes that makes you want to tip his drink onto his shirt, but instead you ignore him, standing on Tom’s right. In front of you is a simple small coffee maker; not a Keurig, but something akin, you could imagine.

“What’s wrong with it?” you question, looking around the top and sides for damage. Tom has his knuckle in his mouth, looking worriedly at the device in front of him. You’ve never seen such an anxious look on his face and it makes your brows crease. “Tom?”

“Hm?” he says, snapping his eyes back to you. The normally sparkling brown hues are muddy, clouded with something you can’t identify. “It’s just… I don’t know what’s wrong with it. I noticed it was out of water and I went to refill it, but when I pressed the button, it wouldn’t make anything.”

Perplexed, you flipped open the lid, seeing nothing wrong. You checked the coffee ground compartment, seeing a pierced, but otherwise unused k-cup sitting in there. With crossed arms, you pressed the power button again, just to be certain.

The three of you watched as the machine’s light started to blink. You cut your eyes over to Tom, wondering what kind of stunt he was pulling. Opening your mouth to speak, you were cut off by the red light blinking out, only for nothing else to happen.

“See!” Tom cried out, fisting his hands in his hair. It curled out of his fist, making two small pony tails at the top of his head. Your eyes narrowed, realizing just how much his hair had grown in the past few months. You hadn’t seen too much of him to have a decent comparison, but you remembered it being much shorter.

“—just wait till she comes home and sees this broken! She’s going to kill me!” Your heart drops into your stomach, limbs suddenly feeling heavy. The coffee maker belonged to his girlfriend. You nodded, now understanding why he had sounded so urgent when he’d called you.

“You’re fucking Spider-Man, ya? Just go out and buy a new one with all that Marvel money,” Harrison pointed out, rolling his eyes as he took another sip of his drink. “She won’t even know the difference.”

“They don’t even make this stupid model anymore, she’s going to know it’s broken. And I didn’t even break it!” he exclaimed, his voice shaking with worry. “What am I going to do?”

“You’re going to calm the hell down, that’s what,” you chided, resting your hands on Tom’s shoulders. He relaxed under your touch, walking backwards as you steered him onto a bar stool. “It’s not the end of the world, dude, just breathe,” you reminded him, watching as his chest heaved heavily. Your hands felt warm as they slid down his arms, coming to rest on the island as you examined the coffee maker.

You drained it of its water, checking the main compartment for any irregularities. Immediately you noted a white film around the sides, and you paused, looking from the sink, to the device, and finally at Harrison.

“Harrison? What are you drinking?” you asked, pulling your phone from your back pocket and shining the flashlight down to the bottom.

“Hot chocolate,” he replied carefully, eyes darting between you and Tom. Peering down, you carefully wiped your finger against the bottom of the compartment, your nails scratching against a hard surface, coated with something.

“Haz, there’s no pot in the sink, or in the dishwasher. What—HAZ!” Tom growled, having put the pieces together. “Did you put milk in the coffee maker?”

“I mean, yeah,” he admitted a not-so-guilty look across his face. “It was sitting right there, and it was faster than heating up a pot.”

“Ah-ha,” you chuckled, closing one eye to look down into the coffee maker. “That would explain this weird shit covering the bottom of this thing.” You gave a pointed look at Harrison, who hadn’t even tried to look remorseful. “You do realize that when you don’t clean up heated milk, it leaves a hard coating on metal. This coffee maker basically has a hot plate that boils the water and then sucks in into a tube. My best guess it that the milk hardened, and the water can’t get through,” you assessed.

“Well how do we fix it?” Tom asked, crossing his arms and looking at you. He seemed to believe you had all the answers, and you bit your lip to hold back you stutters. You didn’t want to disappoint him, to make him think you weren’t the person for the job.

Cutting your eyes over at Harrison, you gave him a pointed look; you made it look reprimanding, but it was really to wipe the smirk off his face. He’d had a smug look since the moment you walked in and it bothered you, making the tips of your ears feel hot.

“Well for starters, don’t do it again,” you bit out, glaring daggers at Harrison. He didn’t reply, but he did walk out of the room, shrugging his shoulders as he walked behind you.

Tom noted the fixed stares you gave him, but said nothing of it. You pursed your lips before looking at the brunette, holding out your hand and asking for a knife.

He blinked, warily pulling out a butter knife and placing it into your palm. You frowned at it, turning it over in your hands. “I need a sharper one.”

Tom raised a brow, hazel eyes glimmering with suspicion. You snorted, wondering if he was actually afraid of you with a knife.

“What, you think I’m going to kill you or something?” You joked. You wondered for a moment if your joke was too dark for a guy who was just your neighbor, but he eventually chuckled, handing you a knife with a sharp, long blade. You gave him your phone, and asked him to shine it down into the machine. Silently, with the two of your heads close together, you both bowed your heads with work to do.

This was an awkward fifteen minutes. Every now and then Tom would pick his eyes up and watch as your face scrunched in concentration. Your lips would part as an almost inaudible curse passed through, making him laugh a bit. Every time you felt him move you would try not to catch his gaze, attempting to discreetly look at him. You could feel how close he was and it felt wrong that your heart was beating so fast, or that you couldn’t breathe.

After what felt like hours, you retracted, taking the machine to the sink to wash it out. You filled it and plugged it back in, waiting patiently with a mug as you started it.

Tom looked as though he was holding a breath, and sure enough, when the coffee streams out he sighed, leaning against the counter with his entire weight, looking as though he’s been saved from the fires of hell.

He turns, eyes shining in praise as he gushed a bunch of rushed thank you’s, his accent slurring everything together. You’re really just nodding and smiling, telling him that it’s fine and no big deal. You’ll tell yourself anything to get rid of the hammering in your chest, louder than construction work as you feel blood rush to your face.

“I seriously don’t know what I’d do without you.” He sounds like he’s speaking about your presence in general, but that can’t be true. All you’ve ever done for him was put together furniture and now fix his coffee maker, but he seems to like you, as a friend and neighbor. Which you’ll take.

“It’s no problem at all Tom. And it’ll be less of a problem if I can have this,” you pull the mug away, bringing the rich black coffee to your lips.

“Yeah, yeah, of course. Do you want to stay for a bit? I feel like you’re always in and out, and-“ his words die as his cell phone rings, the ringtone that default sound that makes you jump. He takes it, holding his hand up apologetically, but you shake your head. You weren’t going to stay anyways.

Grabbing your things, you pass Harrison, who looks pretty comfortable on a couch that isn’t his, sipping on the last of his hot chocolate. He smiles when you walk by, but it’s a knowing one, as though he can read your thoughts. You scoff, but before you can get your shoes back on, Harrison says, “You should be thanking me.”

That really riles you up, and you laugh, a forced, sarcastic thing. “For what?”

“If it wasn’t for me you wouldn’t be making any moves.” There’s a wink, but you don’t really care to return his comment. You strain out a “Bye, Harrison,” before closing the door and leaning your back against it.

The cup in your hand is scorching your palm, but you smile regardless. Another reason to knock on Tom’s door. 


No. 2: The incident where you meet his girlfriend and things go wrong

You had this sick feeling in your gut that toady wasn’t the best day to bring back the mug you borrowed from Tom. It was simply the day after, the most reasonable time to drop by and say, “hey, I forgot I took this” without seeming like you harbored it, or cast a spell on it. The little thing sat neatly in your hands, cradled gently as though it was made of crystal.

Your knock was verging on two minutes ago, so you decided to go again, wondering briefly if you should say his name. Calling him may have been a bad idea, but before you could form his name, the door swung back, revealing a brunette that was not Tom.

His girlfriend’s caramel colored hair was a cascade of freshly made curls, evident from the fact that her makeup and outfit were already complete. She lacked shoes, and a sense of hospitality, sizing you up like bully on a playground. When she reached your eyes, you balked, deciding whether it was better to state your purpose, or just drop the item near her feet and scram.  

It would have been much easier for her as well, until Tom caught your eyes from farther behind her. “Y/N?” he questioned, but excitedly, as though he was happy to see you. That made his girlfriend’s lip curl into a sneer, an action that didn’t go unnoticed by you.

“Oh, uh,” you started, wanting so bad to bolt, but transfixed by Tom’s smile and gentle demeanor. He was dressed, indicating that he was probably going out. And from the progress they both had on their outfits, you could guess it was possible they were going on a lunch date.

You felt foolish, your heart drooping in your chest as you resigned yourself to stick with the plan. What did you expect, that his girlfriend would just magically be missing every time you came into his apartment? A dumb idea, one fueled by your fluttering heart, but also by your jealous mind.

“I accidentally took this last time I was here. Sorry,” you said, holding the cup out to the girl. She dropped her eyes to the cup, but made no moves to take it from you. Her hands stayed rooted on the door, and you felt like you could melt under her scrutinizing gaze.

Tom saved you, however, taking the cup from your hands with care, wrapping his hand around it. Your hands brushed each other’s, and your fingertips felt so warm and fiery, igniting your nerves in flames. You looked up to send him a smile, but you caught the look his girlfriend gave you.

Her blue eyes startled you, being so wide and so angry at the same time. Her perfect nails seemed to dent into the metal door as she gripped it with all her might. Her posture was rigid, feet set apart in a fighting stance. You thought her unoccupied hand was going to reach out and punch your teeth out.

The silent threat made you jump, the ware slipping from your fingers and smashing to the floor before you had time to react. You could only pull your feet away and watch in horror as it fell on its handle, small shards of grey porcelain scattering across the floor.

You want to cry, curl up beside the shards and be swept away into a dust bin, you’re so mortified. To your right, she’s smiling a little, resting her hand on Tom’s shoulder as she proceeds to ask if he’s okay. She tiptoes to look over his shoulder, as though she wasn’t standing feet away when it happened. Milking the moment, you catch the glint in her eyes when she rubs his back, saying that she’ll get a broom.

Tom nods, saying a faint, “okay babe,” before he’s taken aback by the kiss she plants on his cheek. You note the pink mark it’s left, a small, but powerful reminder that he’s taken, and that no matter how shy and polite and cute and neighborly you are, there’s nothing you can do about it.

She casts a look that is part sinister and part mocking over her shoulder, but it turns into surprise as the door closes, Tom stepping out into the hall. He’s got his hands behind his back as the door clicks shut, leaving the two of you in the hall.

“Sorry about that, I don’t know how that happened.” He rubs the back of his neck now, as if he’s really considering the idea that he might have done this.

“No, you have nothing to be sorry about. I’m the one who broke it, I should be cleaning it up, I,” your head is fixed towards the ground, unable to meet his gaze. You really just want to walk away, but it was hard, with him so close to you, his height and yours almost the same. There’s no need for tilted heads when every time you look up, it’s just his eyes on yours, and it makes you so frustrated.

“I’m really sorry about this, I promise I’ll get you another one.” In some really nice universe, this is the part where Tom chuckles and says “You don’t have to do that. Just go on a date with me and we’re even.”

But this is not a nice universe. It’s not even close. This universe is horrible and cruel, laughing at your pitiful crush on a taken British boy and your shitty attempts at being his friend.

This universe sucks, so you leave him with that half assed promise and run down the stairs, not looking back as he calls your name.


 No. 3: the incident where you hear something you shouldn’t have (but always wanted to know)

It’s late, and probably your own fault that you’re miserable and at home and have to watch a fucking slideshow about Roswell, New Mexico. The lights are mostly off in your apartment, save for three little hanging lights above your kitchen counter. One sole bottle of Heineken is untouched, probably warm since your friend left over two hours ago for her date.

And now, with a pounding headache and an impossibly bad mood, you felt your limit snap as loud shouts and a bumping bass sounded from Tom’s apartment. He wasn’t a rowdy guy, and his girlfriend didn’t seem like the type to annoy the neighbors at ten pm, but you could think of a certain blonde that would.  

It had been weeks after ‘the breaking of the mug’, weeks of building back the confidence to look Tom in the eyes, and weeks of him being crazy nice to you. He was always asking you to come over, wanting to make up for how bad your last encounter was. Eventually you both settled back into a comfortable friendship, but that only persisted as long as his girlfriend wasn’t around.

After another week of that arrangement, you felt guilty, almost as though you were doing something forbidden. You remembered the shame and palpable tension in the room that occurred every time she came home to find the two (or three, there was no way she could get rid of Harrison) inside. Almost any conversation would drop, and you would leave, giving him a curt goodbye.

It was dumb, it was strenuous and it was so unnecessary. But it felt exciting.

You swallowed that excitement down fast, knowing that there was nothing between you two. You were neighbors, and finally friends; you weren’t going to ruin it because of your unrequited crush on him.

The pounding in your head increased when you heard with clarity and annoyance the repetitive yell of shots. The song seemed to shake your entire apartment and you growled, stomping over and banging on Tom’s door with your fist.

“Hey! It’s a fucking Thursday night!” you yelled, despite your normal timid manner. You seriously just wanted to fall straight asleep and head to work tomorrow and make a final decision on this location. You were losing time and patience and the capacity to care when a face split into a wide grin upon seeing you at the door.

“Hey hey, Y/N!” Harrison’s blue eyes were unfocused and shiny, his smile too big for his face. He stumbled to grab your arm, his grip much tighter as he used all his strength to pull you in.

“Guys, look who I found!” The word “guys” had you at unease, but you surveyed the people around you carefully. You would know the Spider-Man cast anywhere, and Tom’s apartment was definitely a place where you’d seen them the most.

Tony and Jacob both had on tilted ball caps, and when Tony ran to hug you it fell off. “Oh thank god you’re hear Y/N!” he hiccuped, slinging an arm around your shoulder. “Our man Tom has something to tell you.”

The room dissolved into giggles. It sounded like a first grade classroom, their laughter so innocent and playful. The only boy who didn’t seem to be partaking in the fun was Tom, his lips set in a pout as he shoved Jacob weakly.

“Knock it off, boys,” he told them his voice sharp against theirs. He didn’t appear to be as drunk as they were, but the goofy grin that followed proved otherwise.

After another round of laughter, you tried to shrug Tony away from you, but he was heavier without full control over his body. You felt uncomfortable being around four drunk men, who were all stronger than you. Despite knowing that they meant well, the entire situation read badly.

“Tony, please get off me,” you mumbled, which seemed to earn his attention. He stood up straight, raising his arm up mechanically. You took a step back, holding your arms to make yourself small. “Guys, I get that you’re having fun, but I have work to finish, so can you-“

“You’re a location scout, right?” Jacob asks in the moment of lucidity. You nod, watching warily as Jacob stands, holding his hand out to you.

“Jacob Batalon, best actor in this room. If you’re ever in a pinch for actors, you know where to find me.”

“Jacob,” you said slowly, your handshake becoming too long. “We’ve met before.”

“Best actor in the room? Tom has a fucking BAFTA!” Harrison argued over the music, but you both paid no mind to him.

“Uh, I think I’d know if I met anyone as pretty as you. At least, I think you are. I can’t really see, but you’re Y/N, right?”

“Jacob,” you sighed, exasperated. Pinching the bridge of your nose, you were halfway to launching into an explanation before he cut you off.

“Tom’s been going off about this Y/N girl. She lives across the street or something. I’m like, Tom, dude, amigo. How do you know if she’s pretty if she’s all the way over there?” He pointed out the window and you frowned, wondering just what in the world he was on about.

“Jacob I know you! I live next door.” He snapped his fingers loudly, looking back at Tony with wide eyes.

“Tony! It’s the girl, the one Tom mmhmm-“ Harrison covered Jacob’s mouth with his hands, trying to sit him back down. You raised a brow, looking between the four of them before sighing.

“Clearly I’m not getting anything through to you, so I’ll just do it myself.” You huffed, turning to what you believed was the source of the booming music. A stack of black rectangular sound systems sat on a shelf below Tom’s T.V, each of them appearing to be on. In the background, yelling had ensued, with Jacob’s mouth finally free of Harrison’s grip. You paid no mind as you decided to simply turn the volume down. You twisted the dial a little too far, making the music so quiet, that their shouts became clearer.

“Why the hell not! You’re not going to have any other chance!”

“Your girlfriend dumped you, now is the perfect time to tell her!”

“And say what? ‘Hey Y/N, I’ve been in love with you since the day we met’?”

It kept going, not even missing a beat as the four boys started piling shout after shout on top of the others. You, however, had your hands over your mouth, slowly rising to stand up. Your mind tried to process the words in the order you heard them in, making sure it matched what you thought. Your heart felt like it would leap from your chest, knees knocking as you struggled to understand.

Tom liked you. He had since the day you met. And he didn’t plan on telling you.

It was news to you that his girlfriend was no more, but even bigger than that was the idea that each of his friends already knew that he was in love with you. That sentiment seemed like common knowledge, considering its blunt outburst hadn’t shocked anyone to silence.

Suddenly Harrison’s cheeky winks and Tom’s bright smiles seemed more than just coincidences. You wanted to run up to Tom and tell him that you felt the same way, that he meant more to you than just a neighbor or a friend. You felt your heart clench as you realized that those words were never meant to be presented like this. You weren’t supposed to know.

In some nice universe Tom would tell you over another shared mug of coffee, or an a first date somewhere sweet and thoughtful. In some nice universe you could kiss him for saying that, and he’d kiss you back.

But this was not some nice universe, and this shit always happened. You let yourself out, sliding back against the cold metal door and letting out a sob that had been working its way through your chest.

Perhaps that nice universe would only ever be a daydream


No. 4: the incident where the tables have turned

Not but two days after the drunken episode, you walked up the stairs to find Tom, sitting outside his apartment like a lost puppy. He bounced his phone on one knee, the other keeping his forehead up as he scrolled through his phone. After a moment he locked it, turning his head to see you, dazed and confused.

“Y/N!” he exclaimed, his loud voice reminding you of Thursday night, and the deflated way he had yelled your name, saying that he was in love with you. You were starting to believe it; you could see his eyes light up whenever they found you, a small but genuine smile tilting his lips upward. For someone who had just lost a significant other, Tom seemed pretty much in one piece.

Maybe because you were the one seeing him.

Nevertheless, you raised an eyebrow in silent question, to which Tom sheepishly smiled. “I seem to have locked myself out of my own apartment,” he told you, standing up and shoving his hands in his pockets. He was well cleaned up, considering the last time you’d seen him he was smashed beyond compare.

Before you even had the thought of stopping, you blurted, “Doesn’t your girlfriend have a key?”

It was like kicking a puppy; a small, adorable little puppy that only wanted your attention for half a second. The mirth drained out of his face and his eyes quickly dropped to the floor. His hands swung aimlessly by his side. You wanted to take it back, say you were sorry or that you forgot, but you weren’t even supposed to know in the first place.

“Alice and I broke up,” he sighed, and all you could think was ‘So her name was Alice.’

You tried to morph your face into sympathy and surprise, but you weren’t sure how well you pulled it off. “Oh, shit Tom, I’m sorry,” you expressed, wanting to reach out and touch his shoulder, but withholding yourself. Pretending you didn’t know about his feelings for you was so difficult, and you weren’t sure why. It wasn’t like you to be flirty or drop hints, but for some reason that was all you wanted to do: wrap your arms around him, tell him he’d be fine, and remind him that you were next door if he needed you.

In some nice universe that would work, but this wasn’t time or place.

“My spare key is with Harrison, surprise surprise,” Tom joked, which you smiled at.

“You’re never going to see that key again,” you laughed, bringing back a sliver of a smile to the man’s face. He looked better with it, you thought, doing nothing for the butterflies in your stomach. Your laughter calmed down enough for you to shrug. “You can come stay at my place until he gets here, if you don’t have anything to do.”

His eyes widened, but he hid it by raising his left brow. “Are you sure? I don’t want to intrude or anything.”

“Considering it returning the favor. Besides, I’m always in your apartment. We need a change of scenery.” You unlocked your door, coming into your apartment with tense shoulders. Tom had never been in here before, and there was a reason for that. His presence in your apartment would gradually become less and less strange, making him just a part of your home than the couch or the curtains. You didn’t want him to be so familiar that it seemed like he belonged here, because he didn’t. He belonged in his nice white apartment, far away from whatever you had going on here.

There wasn’t much. You weren’t a minimalist, but you preferred less pillows and decorations than actual furniture. The colors were mostly neutral blues and greys, with red here or there. Along the walls were huge posters of cities you’d visited for work. Ashville, Slab City, Roswell, and other obscure towns were littered across your living room, and when you looked back you noticed Tom was staring at all of them.

“You’ve been to all these places?” he inquired, awe lacing his voice. You were shocked by his curiosity, considering he travelled all the time for his job. His face was fixed on the posters, before catching the little framed photos around the bookshelves. “Holy shit, is that you?”

He had the frame in his hand now, and judging from it, you were sure he was indulging himself in staring at a truly mortifying high school photo of yours. “Who are these people?” he pointed, and you grimaced.

“High school friends, if you couldn’t tell by our bad fashion choices,” you groaned, coming up beside him and studying the picture. You were in the middle, as you often were in group photos because everyone was taller than you. It didn’t particularly matter in this instance; you were squatting down, your hands clasped as if in prayer, staring down the camera with a smirk. Above you, four of your friends had lifted up the shortest girl in your group, perching her on their shoulders. It looked like a dysfunctional human pyramid.

“I don’t think I have a picture of me and my mates half as cool as this,” Tom remarked, and you couldn’t help but laugh.

“You think that’s cool? I think we were more crazy than cool,” you spoke wistfully, setting the picture back down. “I’m not even sure why I keep that around. It doesn’t really fit in with this whole thing,” you gestured wildly, pointing at the dozens of colorful photos. Tom’s eyes landed wherever your finger pointed, until the rested back on you.

“Which one of these is your favorite?” he asked, turning in a circle to view every landscape. You put a finger to your lips, eyeing each one carefully, until you landed on one filled with green and purple.

“I took this in Glasgow, about four years ago,” you stated, standing beside a quite large picture of a sprawling field of bluebells. “First time scouting overseas, and a studio needed pictures of old woods to use as concept art. I was with a senior photographer on this one, but he let me take the shots they eventually used.” You glanced up at the photo in reverence, before looking over to Tom.

His face expressed pure adoration, and you found that his eyes rested more so on you than the photo. He seemed to be in a trance, only snapped out of the daze a minute after you’d stopped talking. He tried to shake the grin off, but it was too late. So he went with it, smiling even wider.

“Wow. I’ve been to Scotland before, and I knew it was beautiful. But that?” he threw his hands down and you laughed at his gesture. “I’ve never seen anything like that before.”

“You just have to know where to look. I know I never would have found this place if David wasn’t so familiar with Glasgow,” you told him, heading into the kitchen for drinks. “Next time, take someone who knows what to look for.”

“Maybe I should take you.” It was supposed to be mumbled under his breath, just a wish he kept to himself, but he let his guard down. You heard him, freezing as you stuck your head into the fridge, thanking the heavens that you had a cover for your burning face. You wanted to turn around and tell him yes; absolutely, positively, one-hundred-percent were you on board with going anywhere with him. You wanted to joke that you’d pack your luggage right then and there, that between two seasoned travelers like you, there was sure to be a discount somewhere.

But all you could do was force down the thoughts, grabbing two cokes from the fridge before pressing them to your face. You turned to Tom and smiled, a restrained, glowing thing that startled him, for he hesitantly stepped towards you.

“Maybe you should. Glasgow is one of my favorite places. I’d be happy to show you around.” You hoped you didn’t come off as anything other than friendly, but knowing the situation you were both in, there was no telling his response.

Tom just blinked, his face like a deer in headlights. Suddenly his face was tinted in pick and he smiled, looking down at his shoes bashfully. “I don’t know when we’d ever do it,” he commented, rooting you two back in the reality, the place where you both had jobs to do and obligations to others. But it had been nice, dreaming of Scotland with Tom. Perhaps it would come true.

There was a calm silence that settled in between the conversation, which was ripped away when Tom’s cell rang. He picked it up with reluctance, before making a face at the id. “Haz you better be downstairs or else I’m hanging up.” There was a bit of yelling on the other side, Harrison’s voice distorted by the traffic outside. Tom listened for a moment more before nodded, cutting his eyes over to you.

“Yeah, you can just open yourself, you’re always there anyways,” he quipped, ending the line before sighing. “Sorry, that was Haz, he’s here with my key.” Every word he said sounded breathless, a string of words in an almost incomprehensible British accent and an apology mixed in somewhere. You smiled, before jumping up.

“Oh! Before I forget,” you babbled, reaching into a packed kitchen cabinet for something. You stood on the tips of your toes, reaching for a turned handle before it landed gracefully in your palm. You smiled, handing it over to the dumbfounded man over the counter.

“What’s this?” he asked, turning over the red and blue designed cup. “Is this for me?”

“Yeah! I told you I was going to get you a new mug, I didn’t say what it would look like though.” You bit your lip, wondering if a Spider-Man mug was really the way to go in this situation. In addition to playing the wen head, you knew he had an affinity for the character as well, hoping the combined coincidences would lead him to like it.

He pressed it into his palms, turning it over in the daintiest of ways. He clutched it tight, as though he might break it from just breathing on it. When he picked his head up, you noted the watery glimmer in his brown eyes, which he tried his hardest to blink back. There were so many small things about Tom that made your heart flutter, but you didn’t have time to study them all.

“Thank you,” his small voice took you from your thoughts. “That was really sweet of you. You didn’t have to do this.”

“I wanted to,” you relied firmly, placing a hand on his shoulder. “And I couldn’t live with myself if I never replaced it. Seriously, take it,” you told him, seeing as he was unwilling to leave with it. He stared at it a little while longer before he jolted, a buzzing sounding from his back pocket.

“Harrison’s here, I should, uh,” He stammered out, slowly taking some steps back. You nodded, giving him a slight wave and then headed back to the kitchen. You didn’t look up until you heard the door open, and then click shut, the air in your apartment much colder than it had been.

You stared around, wondering if you could find differences in your home now that Tom had been inside it. Your old theory was clearly correct, because your place had never felt so lonely and empty since you’d moved in. With a frown, you stared at the picture of Glasgow, wondering if in some other time and place, it was taken by you and Tom.


No.5: the incident where everything becomes clear

You actually burst into his apartment, a loud banging noise that sounds like it belongs in a movie. You’re too dramatic, and for reasons only you can understand.

Two heads turn, almost in sync. Blue eyes stare your form up and down, a quirk in his brows, while Tom just screams “Y/N!” It’s more of an exclamation that a question, which prompts Harrison to ask the obvious.

“What are you doing?” It’s so posh coming from him, the accent highlighting the annoyance in his voice. Or maybe it’s confusion, because he seems baffled not only by your presence, but by your urgency.

Tom doesn’t seem to mind. He’s got wide, shining eyes, and a posture that’s halfway out of the chair he was sitting in. He crosses the length between you two in an instant, throwing you off for a second before you regained proper footing.

“What’s wrong?” He questioned, staring you down with those concerned brown hues of his. You wanted to take his face in your hands, and reveal your purpose for being here in the first place.

You were out of breath, from both being so close to him, and from running up three flights of stairs. After getting started on a scouting job earlier this week, you requested half the day off to start finalizing your travel plans. Within the next week you’d be flying into Tokyo and Hong Kong for a few days with Shanghai as a backup plan in case you didn’t get the shots you wanted.

You had been so psyched to start packing and start sharing about your trip, when you came across a moving truck in front of your complex. And lo and behold, you caught the sight of Alice, her arms full of those yellow throw pillows you had seen in his apartment all those weeks ago. Her blue eyes scanned the street until they came to rest on you, shouldering a hand bag that probably cost less than her foundation.

Her eyes turned to steel, lips curved in the most menacing grimace you’d ever seen. Her eyes appeared watery as you came closer, the grimace turning into a full-blown snarl the longer you stayed in her vicinity.

You practcally ran away, heart pounding out of fear. It wasn’t that Alice was mean or nasty towards you; it was that you could understand why she didn’t like you. You didn’t know the specifics of their breakup, but if you could guess, you figured Tom’s affection towards you might have played a factor in it.

The guilt burned your chest, but there was something else there you didn’t understand, something that led you to Tom’s unlocked door. In the awkward silence between you two, you wondered why it was unlocked, and why he didn’t seem to question why you were here. The longer he stared at you, the more your fingers itched, and the more you yearned to touch him.

So you pulled him out of the apartment, his feet tripping over the threshold as the door closed behind him. You caught a glimpse of Harrison’s face, blue eyes shining with mirth before he winked, clicking it shut. Tom turned his head to look back, but you grabbed his cheeks, making him face you.

He opened his mouth to ask something, but the question was caught it his throat. Your lips were suddenly on his, and he shifted closer to you, like it was an instinct. Like he got kissed by breathless girls outside his apartment on a daily basis.

His arms wrapped around your waist, before coiling tightly, his nails digging into your jacket. Your hands left his cheeks, instead falling to the nape of his neck, where you brushed small curls of hair with your knuckles. Everything about kissing Tom felt like fitting into a jigsaw puzzle; you knew exactly where everything went. From your hands to your chest to your lips, every part of you felt in place.

Tom eyes opened as he pulled back, gazing at you like he would a star in the sky. “Why did you do that?” His nearly inaudible voice was shaky, his hands running up and down your sides. He tried to still himself, but you could feel the skittish energy he was trying hard to contain.

You wound your arms around his neck, pressing yourself closer to him. “I don’t actually know,” you told him seriously, a smile in your lips.

He tried to roll his eyes, but he too was smiling at you. “You just did it, because? Just because you could?”

“Because I’ve wanted to for a long time. Because you accidently said last Thursday that you were in love with me. And because I’m in love with you too.”

Tom’s arms dropped and he balked, watching you with a gaping mouth. “You heard that? You heard me say that?” he reiterated, looking you in the eye. When you nodded he groaned, placing his head in his hands. He refused to look at you when you coaxed him out of his shame.

“I can’t believe you knew that,” he muttered, his face turning redder by the second. You tiptoed up and kissed the crown of his head, causing him to peek at you through his fingers.

“I’m sorry you’re embarrassed, but if I didn’t know I’d never have the guts to kiss you,” you compromised, pulling his hands away from his face. “C’mon, this situation isn’t all bad.”

“It’s not bad at all, really,” he sighed, a content smile gracing his lips. “I mean, you did say you were in love with me too, right?”

“Do kisses not mean anything to you Brits? Is that just like, a thing you guys do?” You poked fun at him, earning another small peck on your lips to shut you up. You smiled and laughed, making it messy and causing his lips to end up short squish against your cheek. He rolled with it though, smothering your face with tiny little pecks, squeezing you tight in his arms.

From somewhere in the apartment, Harrison screamed “Finally!”