money-rolls

and you know, after today’s clip, i couldn’t help but think back to that party clip in the first episode of eva’s season, when vilde was crying in the bathroom because she didn’t have the money for all these rolls of toilet paper, and it almost seemed comical back then, the idea of spending so much on toilet paper, but it’s easier to see why she seemed so devastated. because we now know how money is something she has to worry about a lot, how it’s always in the back of her mind. and it’s true, that she did not have all that money, not at all. and when eva saw her cry, and asked her if she could go get anyone, the first person vilde thought of was of course chris, because chris was the one friend she wanted by her side at that moment, the person who’s support she wanted the most, the amazing friend who’d always been there

If I could get back all the money I’ve spent on food in the past 5 years I’d be rolling around in money instead of rolling around on my belly

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!”

4

Since the Merrill bracers themselves were probably going to be out of most people’s price range, I’ve gone ahead and posted the pattern for free, because I luv u nerds.

Didn’t have time to make proper, printable scans, but it’s laid out on a 1" grid so it should be easy to figure out. The straps are riveted to the back piece and then criss-crossed such that the rivets don’t show, tacked down temporarily with contact cement and then stitched around the edges to keep everything strong & tidy.

I used 4-5 oz veg-tan leather for this, but craft foam would probably make a decent (if more delicate) substitute. The straps for the wrists I riveted on at the A3/B3 holes, and the straps for the forearms are riveted at A9/B9, then both are included in the edge stitching. The length of those straps should be arm/wrist circumference + 4".

That pattern gives you way more length than you need for the palm strap, so figure out how much overlap you want, cut off the excess, and stitch it down.

Uhh, I think that’s everything. More angles of the finished bracers here.

And as always, if you do happen to be rolling in money, Armory Rasa can make them for you. ^_^

Listen, I wanted the money

This is kind of long so here’s some context. My group consists of a sex obsessed human pirate, a money obsessed, shit stirring tiefling rogue (me), a human psion who likes causing chaos, and a human warrior with amnesia, we are in a bar and and I am pissed at the bartender.

(Human pirate)HP: ok, so I go upstairs witg my two ladies and bed them

DM: ok, you go upstairs

(Human psion)HS: ok, so I simultaneously flip everyone’s mugs of beer upside down *rolls 18*

DM: you succeed and successfully start a chaotic bar fight

(Tiefling rogue)Me: I sneak up behind the bartender and stab him through the throat *rolls 18*

DM:you stab him and none of the bartenders notice until you are out from behind the bar *to me and HS* you see someone about to stab someone else with a table leg

HS: I go to stop him

Me: wait, I stop HS and tell him to just let it happen, snd that I have a plan

DM: he stabs the person in the chest and pulls the bloody table leg out of their chest

Me: I tell the bartenders that the man with the bloody table leg stabbed the bartender *rolls 14 on bluff*

DM: The bartenders believe you and yell for city guards, and you hear footsteps outside

HS: I quickly put everything back where it was before the guards arrive *rolls nat 20*

DM: you succeed and the guards arrive on the scene and grab hold of the guy with the table leg and start to escort him out of the bar

Me: I convince them that he also stole my money *rolls 17 of persuasion*

DM: wait, you are blaming him on the murder and condemning a stranger to death for the 25 gold he has?

Me: yeah, why not?

DM: What’s your alignment?

Me: Chaotic Neutral, why?

DM: well, I think your alignment should probably be changed to neutral evil

Me: that’s fair enough

HP: *comes downstairs with the 2 ladies he was with* what’d I miss?

A couple turns later, our psion tortured the stranger and made him go insane instead of quickly executing him, and he soon after became neutral evil as well

2

She fell in love with him when she was only six years old, soft pink sweaters and blonde pigtails completely infatuated by dark wavy hair and suspiciously wise, stormy blue eyes. He was like something she had seen before, their was something about the way his head hung a little too low, almost as if he was carrying something heavy on his shoulders a feeling six year old Betty Cooper was all too familiar with.

It had never been easy growing up in the Cooper household, the familiar motto hung on a plaque by the front door “a place for everything and everything in its place.” But perhaps the one thing that had no place was the troubled blonde child hidden in the shadows, scarred palms holding onto a stuffed orange kitten. She would never be Polly Cooper, she wasn’t nearly as beautiful as her sister and her mother let that be known daily, for Alice Cooper looks were the most important thing a girl could have, it didn’t matter that Betty was incredibly intelligent for her age or the fact that at only six years old she had changed more tires than half the men in the small towns mechanic shop, she wasn’t beautiful and she wasn’t enough.

Her father didn’t want to get involved, if he caught her crying to herself under the kitchen table, he would simple touch her cheek with two fingers and whisper “it gets better sport, hang on.” And so she did, she hung on. She hung on tight.

She did however have one escape and that was getting lost in fantasies of her beanie wearing knight in shining armor, they didn’t speak, to be fair Jughead Jones never spoke to anyone, he kept to himself, eerily similar to Betty. One day Betty had brought up her thoughts to her older sister and had received the dirtiest look she had ever seen

“The Jones family is bad news, word around town is his mom beats him up on the daily, you stay away from him, nothing good can come of those people.” Polly had spit, her face scrunched up in disgust.

So Betty did, Betty always did what was asked of her, she never argued, she never fought, she simply agreed and went about her business, eyes downcast and fingers itching to tear into the skin of her soft palms.

“Betty! Get out of that garage and get going to school, you don’t need another Tardy on your attendance.” The shrill voice of Alice Cooper called from inside, effectively tearing Betty out of her reminiscing, she had no idea why Jughead Jones was on her mind this morning.
The gorgeous blonde pushed a stray piece of honey blonde hair out of her face as she wiped her grease stained hands on her pants, she had been working on getting an old Camaro up and running, she had even taken the gorgeous cherry red classic home from her fathers shop to work on overnight, she needed this car to work, it could sell for good money.

“Elizabeth!”

Betty rolled her eyes, dropping her wrench with a clatter and heading inside

“I’m coming, I’m coming.” She grumbled, zooming past her mother and grabbing an apple

“Aren’t you going to get changed?” Alice asked, her nose wrinkled in disgust at Bettys plain blue jeans and loose white t shirt, a permanent oil stain smudged across her cheek as she shook her head and headed for the front door.

“I’ll see you when I get home.” She called, slamming the door and finally exhaling. That woman always exhausted her, she was glad to escape to school. The walk to Riverdale took her about ten minutes tops, immediately Jumped by her best friend Veronica Lodge as soon as she stepped foot onto the hall.

“Guess who finally managed to get daddy to agree to letting me have the Porsche?” Veronica clutched Betty’s arm, her dark maroon nails digging into Betty’s arm as she bounced excitedly.

Betty laughed
“I’m guessing it’s you?”

Veronica threw her hands in the air and posed
“Bingo.” She grinned.

The blonde and the black haired best friends continued on their walk to the lockers

“I’m jealous. You better let me take a look at the inside of the hood, you never know how those German mechanics work, they could ship it down here just to have it break down in a week.” Betty pat the raven haired beauties shoulder affectionately.

“You really think I’d ever drive a car without having you look at it. It’s just one of the many perks of having you as a best friend."Veronica wiggled her eyebrows teasingly as they arrived at their lockers.

Betty rolled her eyes with a smirk as she looked up from the inside of her locker, her eyes catching on the very person who had been running through her mind all day, she leaned against the locker beside hers, messy ponytail pressing into the cool metal as Jughead Jones, popped his head phones in and shoved books into his satchel, he was so good looking it was sometimes hard to watch, his lean figure was lined with muscle and the way his arms flexed under the flannel he wore when he bent down was enough to have Betty drooling all over herself, if that wasn’t enough there was the fact that his mouth was the literal definition of perfect, heart shaped and deliciously pink, waiting to be..

"Excuse me, Jane Eyre? Do you want to stop pining for about five seconds and pick up all the books that have spilt from your bag.” Veronica grinned cockily, her eyes sparkling at her goofy friend.

Betty looked down quickly and groaned, sure enough her book bag was unzipped and all of her papers and books were scattered on the floor

“Great” she mumbled, looking up at Veronica who was still grinning “are you gonna help me or just laugh at my misery.”

Suddenly the dark haired girls eyes lit up
“Sorry Betty but Archie’s coming this way, be right back.” With those final words she flew down the hallway, heels clicking as she jumped into her boyfriends arms.

Betty sighed
“Gotta go Betty, gotta go make out with my boyfriend in this very public hallway, I can’t spend two seconds helping you pick up your endless amounts paper from the ground” she mocked playfully, blowing another stray strand of hair out of her face. Reaching for her notebook, a large tanned hand covered her own, Betty’s eyes went wide as she stared at the familiar looking combat boots squatted before her.

“Quite the friend you’ve got there.” Jughead jones smiled lazily , handing her the notebook as he helped her stand.

Keep your cool Betty Cooper, stay calm
“Yeah, well she’s a little… distracted.” Her eyes flickered to the couple currently making out in front of some poor freshmans locker.

“I see” Jughead smiled, shoving his NOW empty hands into his pockets

Betty swallowed slowly
“Thankyou. For ya know, helping me. My books just can’t manage to stay in my bag.” She shrugged delicately.

“Well it’s better than your lunch running away.” Jughead joked visibly wincing at his poor excuse at humor.

Fortunately for both of them the first period school bell rang, causing the shuffle of students.

“Well…thanks again.” Betty smiled sincerely, hiking her bag over her shoulder, just as she was about to walk away the dark haired boy placed a hand to her forearm, the space he was holding seemed to burn under his touch and he seemed to notice too, staring down at his hand before removing it quickly, his hand came up to her face and gently brushed at a spot on her cheek.

“You’ve got a little..” he trailed off holding up his palm to reveal the oil on his hand.

Betty blushed bright pink
“Oil.” She spoke quietly “see you around Jughead Jones.”

His eyes snapped to hers

“See you around Betty Cooper”

Oh yeah Jughead you definitely will be seeing me around.

anonymous asked:

I was wondering if you had any meta opinions on how rich viktor is? like, when they're in barcelona and they're sightseeing and viktor just buys and ton and then buys WEDDING RINGS on top of it??? how much money do you think he makes/has?

While it’s never stated in the anime that Victor is rich, we do see evidence of his wealth in his designer clothing and his taste for the finer things in life (champagne, first class tickets, etc).

Evgeni Plushenko, who is probably Victor’s equal in “living legend” status, has a net worth of $10 million (x).

So Victor could be very wealthy indeed.

In one of the GPF episodes, you can see that there’s an ad with Victor’s name on it. Looks like a typical ad aimed at athletes, like Nike or something like that.

Which means Victor likely has money rolling in from advertisement campaigns.

Do You Remember?

Pairing: Stiles x Reader

Requested: Yes by @oh–well-whatever–nevermind

A/N: I loved writing this <3

Stiles: There’s a party tonight at Lydia’s, you want to come with me?

You stared at the text from your best friend, sighing in defeat as you quickly typed a reply, “No.” You knew what would happen if you went to the party with him, he’d spend the first ten minutes joking and laughing with you, then he’d see Malia at the other side of the room, shuffle nervously on his feet as he glanced from you to her and that’d make you roll yours eyes and tell him to ‘go on over to her’. He’d smile, pat you on the back and wander off for the rest of the night; leaving you by yourself.

That’s what it is like now a days, you left alone whilst he ran around with the werecoyote that rudely interrupted your five year plan. You made a plan when you were thirteen, a plan that would make Stiles Stilinski, your best friend, fall in love with you and it was working; god, it was working great until she entered his life. Maybe it was meant to be, maybe you were only meant to be best friends forever.

Keep reading

Smut hoe is back? *temporarily*

Yall….

I’ve been working on this fic for like ever. and I never finished it.  And tonight  decided to. The *smutty* part isnt that good but whatever. I did it.

“Bottled up”

You x Jackson Wang (GOT7) 

Feat best friend Bam Bam (non-sexual friendship)

Rated M 

Smut

One Shot.

*Disclaimer*: If you dont like smut dont read it.  Just dont do it. 

“You didn’t have to pay for my flight! What the hell Bam!” You yelled on the phone with your best friend Bam Bam.  You had discovered a notification in your email that your round trip to Thailand was booked. Only you didn’t book anything yet.

“Just think of it as a late birthday present,” He said laughing.” “I can afford it love.”

“Yeah but you know I’ve been saving up to come to Thailand! I got the money silly.”

“Use it to go shopping!” He said, chuckling in the phone.  You hated when Bam Bam paid for you. Especially because you work.  Sure he was your best friend and an idol, but you didn’t want to use him for his money. Your eyes rolled. You wanted to make it up to him but had no idea how. The boy had everything. He was the fashion king so you couldn’t buy him a new outfit. He’s already ahead of the fashion game.

Keep reading

Babysitting Pt.2

You woke up to you pressed up against Zach and his little sister on top of both of your guys’ legs. You sat on the bed and carried her over onto the spot you were in, you headed over to the bathroom and showered. Once you were out Zach was no longer in the bed, you went into the kitchen seeing him on his phone eating cereal.

“Good morning.” You said walking over to the fridge taking out the orange juice.

“Good morning, hey is it alright if I invite my friends over?” He asked,

“Sure.” You nodded pouring juice into a cup, a couple seconds later his sister walking into the kitchen.

“Good morning princess, what do you want for breakfast?” You asked her,

“Lucky Charms!” She mumbled, she looked half asleep. You took out a plate and served her lucky charms,

“Here you go princess.” You said handing her, her bowl of cereal. The doorbell rang, those must be Zach’s friends. He got up and walked over to the door opening it,

“Hey Y/N this is, Justin, Bryce, Marcus, Alex, and Jessica, Justin’s girlfriend.” He said pointing at each of them while saying their names, you just waved.

“She’s hot,” you heard Bryce whisper,

“She has a hickey, so I think she has a boyfriend.” One of the whispered, you blushed remembering how that got there, Zach just looked at you and smirked.

“Do you have a boyfriend?” Marcus asked, you shook your head.

“Then how did that end up on your neck?” They asked some of them looking at Zach nudging him,

“It’s a bee sting!” Zach’s sister blurred out, you laughed remembering at the lie you had told her. The rest of the guys laughing as well,

“Y/N and Zach were playing dentist and she was on top of him yesterday. It looked like they were kis—”

“Okay princess that enough, lets go change you.” You said picking her up and running out of the kitchen with her.


“Dempsey’s getting some!” They all cheered and teased Zach. You took his sister into her room and let her choose her outfit. You two walked back out into the living room where everyone was just sitting there quietly, they all looked at Zach smirking.

“Dentist huh?” Bryce stated,

“I want to play that with you,” he added on while smirking. Zach threw a pillow at him,

“Little Zach’s getting overprotective of his girl.”

“She’s not my girl,” Zach added on,

“So then just a one night stand?” Marcus asked, Zach throwing another pillow at him this time.
Everyone burst out laughing,

“Y/N can we go to the park?” His sister asked, you nodded.

“Cmon lets go put on our shoes,” you said walking upstairs. You both walked downstairs once you were done,

“Were going to the park,” You both waved walking to the door.

“Were coming,” The whole group stood up walking towards the door as well. The whole walk to the park was just everyone pushing Zach towards you which made you laugh. You guys arrived and you and his sister ran to the swing.

“Zach can you push me?” She asked, Zach nodded walking over to you guys. He pushed you guys for a couple of minutes until you guys got bored. You guys got off and went to go walk, you Zach and his little sister at the back and the rest of the group in front. Bryce walked to the back and walked beside you, he placed his arm around you. Every couple of seconds he would lower it until he had reached your butt. He squeezed it while smirking at you,

“What the fuck!” You exclaimed pushing him off, Zach quickly looking over.

“What’s wrong?” He asked worriedly,

“He’s fucking touching me!” You said in disgust looking at Bryce, Zach let go of his little sisters hand,

“Continue walking,” he told you guys, you nodded and told her not to worry. A couple minutes later he jogged back to you guys, his knuckles crimson red.

“What did you do?” You asked,

“Taught him a lesson, don’t worry he won’t be bothering you anymore.” He said reconnecting his hand with his sister. You decided to let it go and you guys continued your walk, the rest of the group had left so now it was just you three.

“Y/N I want ice cream!” His sister exclaimed,

“Then lets go get ice cream!” You told her, her face lighting up with joy as soon as those words left your mouth. You guys walked to the ice cream shop and her rushing to line as soon as you guys stepped in.

“What ice cream do you want princess?” You asked her,

“Chocolate with lots of sprinkles!” You told the girl at the cash register, she seemed like she was checking out Zach. She rolled her eyes and looked over at you,

“Can we get a chocolate ice cream cone with lots of sprinkles, a strawberry ice cream and—”

“A mint chocolate chip ice cream for me.” Zach said interrupting you. You took out your wallet and took out some money, Zach took your wallet away and handed the girl his money. You rolled your eyes looking at him, he handed you back your wallet. You guys got your ice cream and sat down on a booth. You and Zach on one side and his sister on the other,

“Are you guys boyfriend and girlfriend?” She randomly asked licking her ice cream, you and Zach both shook your head.

“Y/N’s too pretty for you.” She stated once again, you heard the girl at the cash register scoff while looking at you. You ignored her and thanked his sister.

“Do you think she’s pretty?” She asked Zach, he nodded while looking over at you. You blushed and smiled at him. You guys finished your ice cream and walked back home.

“Princess, your parents will be here any minute now.” You frowned you didn’t want to leave,

“I don’t want you to leave,” she ran to you giving you the biggest hug ever. You hugged her back and put your hands through her hair,

“Whenever you miss me just tell your mom or Zach to call me over,” you told her,

“I don’t have your number,” Zach said,

“Give me your phone,” he proceeded to hand you his phone and you put your number in. You set the contact as “Totally Playing Dentist😅😉” which made him laugh.

“There now when you miss me you can tell Zach to call me over or we can always be on FaceTime,” you smiled. Mrs. Dempsey walked into the house,

“I’ve missed you!” She said running to her daughter you just smiled. She looked up to see Zach and she gasped,

“Y/N I’m so sorry you were probably so confused to see Zach, I forgot to mention him! It’s just because he’s never home,” She said hugging him,

“It’s fine, he startled me at first but we got to know each other,” You told her,

“Seems like you two got a little bit too friendly,” she pointed to your neck. You looked at Zach and both of you blushed while laughing.

“Mommy what are you talking about? That’s a bee sting!” The little girl exclaimed,

“Oh is it now?” She asked her, she nodded,

“Yeah, her and Zach were playing denti—”

“I think that’s enough.” Zach said covering his sisters mouth. You two just laughed nervously.

“Y/N it’s quite late, would you want me to drive you home?” She asked,

“Mom I can take her if you want,” she looked over at Zach and nodded,

“Yes if it’s okay,” you told him. He nodded and got his car keys, you grabbed all of your belongings.

“Bye princess!” You hugged his sister, she handed you a crown,

“A princess always needs her crown,” she said and you smiled while placing it at the top of your head. You waved goodbye to everyone else and went with Zach to his car. He’s hot, he’s nice, he’s caring, he’s good at basketball and he has a nice car! What’s next? You got in and gave him your address and he began driving.

“I had fun babysitting your sister,” you told him ending the silence.

“Pretty sure that’s not all you enjoyed,” he looked over at you and smirked,

“What else then?” You asked,

“Obviously playing dentist duh,” he said which made both of you laugh.

“We should play that another time,” you smirked and winked at him.

“Just call me when,” he smirked back. You two arrived at your house and you got out, he walked you to your door.

“Hey um do you want to hang out sometime? Obviously with my little sister knowing how much she’s going to miss you.” He said scratching the back of his neck.

“Sure but I’m pretty sure she’s not the only one who’s gonna miss me,” you smirked while giving him a kiss on the cheek.

If You Need Money But Can’t Get a “Regular” Job

So recently, another crowdfunding post came across my dash, asking for help for rent/bills etc because the person was unemployed (or underemployed) as was their partner. I see these posts not infrequently, and I try to donate small amounts when I can (I’m not exactly rolling in money myself). 

But I wanted to share a big tip, particularly for people who chronically have trouble making ends meet due to an inability to find solid gainful employment (often related to things like disability, LGBTQ status, etc). I don’t know how many people know this but nowadays, there is a lot of remote/work-from-home type stuff you can find on Craigslist that often require you to simply have:

  • A Paypal account
  • Basic literacy skills
  • Basic computer skills (like can you copy/paste data in an Excel doc)
  • An internet connection

You typically don’t need to “interview” for them and again, you can do them from home. They do typically have some kind of “test” to make sure you can do the work, some more rigorous than others. But again, typically if you have basic computer skills, basic literacy/math skills, can follow instructions, and have decent common sense you can do these types of jobs. 

Here is an example posting of the type of thing I mean:

You do have to look out for scams, because that can happen, but USUALLY they are legit. (I have done some before) And you will probably make less than minimum wage for your time. I won’t lie, this type of work is exploitative in the most banal sense of that it doesn’t pay you consonant to the time you will spend on it. (Indeed, this is why business do it, because it is cheaper than hiring someone to do it onsite where they’d have to pay them minimum wage and potentially give them benefits) 

BUT, I know “holding out” for what your labor is actually worth is not a luxury many people can afford. If you need money, but have a hard time getting a traditional job, this can be a way to keep your head above water, and it often circumvents some of the big problems people can have with traditional employment because they are queer, or disabled, or formerly imprisoned. 

Look for them on Craigslist job postings from big cities. Search for things like “remote” or “work from home.” (I do recommend searching within your nation, however, because often business don’t want to send money internationally because that’s a WHOLE other thing; this advice does have limitations because of that, and there probably are nations where this is not viable, so that major caveat does apply) 

Believe me, I’m not trying to shame people who are asking for money through Tumblr in order to survive. I just know that asking for donations is deeply unreliable and often not a solution that is viable long-term, even if it allows you to pay your rent this month. A lot of people simply aren’t aware that this type of work is potentially available to them, and I want to let everyone know. (Please signal boost) 

Reasons why I love Luke 

  • lays around shirtless taking snapchats using dumb filters and even dumber captions
  • uses slang words no one uses anymore 
  • uses memes from 2 years ago
  • laughs at memes of himself
  • captions his ig photos with spongebob quotes 
  • gets the most hate, but never let’s it get to him 
  • reposts Michael’s photos 
  • is the best uncle to Lenny 
  • sings non stop 
  • pulls weird ass faces for no reason???
  • he’s a mummy’s boy 
  • uses the most Australian emojis 🐨🇦🇺
  • he’s a beer dad 
  • is so shady to everyone??? 
  • he wears gold and sparkly boots that shine brighter than my future 
  • wears Saint Laurent 
  • is a sugar daddy 
  • shops at Sephora 
  • he went to Rodeo Drive once 
  • is so nice to everyone even if they’re mean to him
  • drives a shitty car even though he’s rolling in money 
  • is the funniest human ever 
  • the most Australian guy you’ll ever meet 
  • uses Aussie slang all the time
  • AUSTRALIAN ACCENT 
  • has starry freckles all over his skin 
  • his laugh 
  • whoville daddy 
  • his noSE 
  • his lips make everyone want to make out with him 
  • could be tinker bell when he wears that green shirt 
  • goes on spontaneous walks with his nephew Lenny and snaps about it 
  • plays acoustic guitar in the sun 
  • is anti social 
  • tweets about his distaste for pants 
  • tweets about breakfast a lot 
  • thinks everyones judging him.. (room service, Netflix etc) 
  • has a heart of gold and the patience of a saint 
  • parties most nights but still looks good???
  • also looks like model whenever he’s on long ass flights
  • wears whatever makes him feel good 
  • always stops for fans 
  • sang w Brian at warped tour and made everyone want to fuck him 
  • he makes my chest and stomach fill with butterflies 
  • he makes people (me) happy