sink to the bottom in water

cinderella: redo

so i was watching cinderella while doing my nails and waiting for them to dry which was clearly a Mistake because now i can’t help but think -

the evil stepmother was always evil, okay. say her abuse of her own daughters was different than that of cinderella’s - but it was still abuse. giving them impossible expectations, telling them they were never good enough, never pretty enough, never smart enough. and then she gets married, and anastasia and drizella are ecstatic because this man seems kind and warm and maybe just maybe he can temper their mother, maybe with him around she won’t be so cruel. so they’re on their very best behavior in the beginning, they do just as their mother taught - they trot out their best upper court manners in an attempt to get their new stepfather to like them. but it just comes off as cold and snooty and they’re trying, they are, they’re just bad at it. and they see how he is with cinderella, the smiling girl their own age, and they are jealous. they don’t mean to be, they try not to be, they know it isn’t becoming of young ladies. but she gets hugs and kisses and affection and they get rulers slapped on their hands when they reach for desert and sharp jabs to their sides when they slouch and - soon they hate cinderella, not for anything she’s done, but for what she has and they dont

but then her father dies. and it’s all a tumble of things and cinderella is crying and they’ve lost their only chance at escaping their mother’s clutches and it’s terrible. and everything settles and there’s no reason to be jealous anymore but resentment is hard to let go of and they don’t know what to do. they’re only kids too after all. and they’re so terribly bad at comforting people, they can do flowery words and know all the right bows but cinderella is so sad and they just don’t know what to do with that, because they’re supposed to be sisters but they’re not even friends

and slowly but surely their mother starts abusing cinderella, starts making her a maid in her own home, and she’s their mother, what are anastasia and drizella supposed to do? she rules them with an iron fist, and cinderella doesn’t even like them anyway, it’s none of their business.

except one night anastasia crawls into her sister’s bed in the middle of the night and wakes her up. “i was thirsty,” she explains, eyes wide and shiny, and they’re bad at this with other people but drizella has no problems with pulling anastasia into her arms. the younger girl clutches her sister and continues, “i was thirsty and i went down to the kitchen to get some water and - and cinderella is still up! she’s doing the dishes, and she should be asleep, mom is going to make her make breakfast in the morning and -” she cuts herself off with a hiccup and whispers, “it’s not fair.”

“life isn’t fair,” drizella says, echoing one of their mother’s favorite phrases. but her sister is staring at her with wet eyes, and it’s not like their mother is likely to get up before sunrise anyway, she hates waking up, so she pulls herself and anastasia out of bed and off they go.

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The Full Potential Challenge

Ever wonder what your life would be like if you lived up to your full potential? Would your body be healthier? Your skin clearer? Bank account bigger? I think about these things all the time, and, judging by a previous post, you guys do too. Let’s try it out! Obviously we aren’t going to come close to perfect with this – we’re all humans with good days and bad days and in-between days. But let’s try together to see what would happen if we pushed ourselves. I don’t ever want anyone to feel pressured to stick to this every day (I sure as hell won’t), but it’s worth a shot, right? Let’s get to it!

EVERY MORNING

  • Stretch. First thing. Really give your body enough time to wake up. Touch your toes. Roll out your shoulders. Do not hit snooze!
  • Do your full skincare routine. I have mine detailed here, but do whatever works for you and your complexion. Be gentle and consistent. 
  • Brush your teeth and floss. I used to be a big floss-skipper too, but you’d be amazed at how dig of a difference it makes. Rinse with a whitening mouthwash. I use one by Crest, and I notice a major difference in my teeth’s overall whiteness in just a few days.
  • Give yourself enough time to get ready. Whether you’re a wash-and-go kind of girl, or someone who spends an hour doing a full contouring routine before class (and either one is fine!), make sure you aren’t rushing. If you need to wake up a few minutes earlier than normal, so be it. Rushing sets an awful, stressed-out tone for the rest of the day. Allow yourself to be relaxed before taking on the day.
  • Eat something. I’m not going to say eat a big breakfast, because some people (myself included) just can’t eat in the morning. But you should eat, or at least bring a little something with you to work or school. If you can’t eat a full breakfast, grab a fruit! You won’t be as hungry come lunch time, making you less likely to gorge yourself.
  • Shower. You can do this at night, in the morning, whatever. Again, this is something you should allow some time for. I don’t wash my hair every day, but I do condition it every day (from the ears down). Scrub yourself with a delicious-smelling body wash. If you shave, make yourself as smooth as a dolphin, dude. If you don’t, then don’t and don’t ever ever ever let anyone make you feel bad or weird about it. When you get out of the shower, wrap yourself in a fluffy towel and totally slather your sexy self with lotion. Top to bottom. Do it as soon as you can post-shower so it can really sink in. 
  • Put leave-in condition throughout your damp hair and comb it through.
  • Put on an outfit that makes you feel good! So important!
  • Drink water. Drink water. Drink water. Drink water!!!!!
  • Take a look at your daily to-do list. Knock out the most pressing stuff first. Take pride when you cross things off your list.
  • Make your bed! Oh my god, make your bed. Do it. Do it. Do it. 

EVERY AFTERNOON 

  • Follow the “touch it once” approach. This is a truly life-changing thing. When a task is in front of you, no matter how big or small, just do it right then and there. How many times have you gotten a work email or homework assignment and thought, “Eh, I’ll do it later”? And then later never comes? Once something pops up, do it once. Squash it and be done. Cross things off your list and feel like a badass.
  • Try to go for a walk at lunch. Even one little lap around the block or campus will reenergize you like nobody’s business. 
  • Drink water. Drink water. Drink water. Drink water!!!!!
  • Be present. This is so hard for me too, but you have to make a major effort to be present in whatever you’re doing. Be engaged and plugged-in and just exist in the moment. Give 100 percent.
  • Be friendly to friends and strangers. A smile goes a long way.
  • Eat something. Eat what you packed for lunch (see below) and take a break from working while you do it. You need “you time”!

EVERY EVENING

  • Take your makeup off as soon as you’re in for the night. Wash your face with your full routine and let your skin have a break. 
  • Workout. You can also do this in the morning. Whatever works for you. Make a great playlist and go hard af. Get your cardio in. Get your strength training in. Earn every freaking sweat bead forming on your forehead. Earn your shower!
  • Knock out your homework. Life is infinitely better you don’t have anything hanging over your head. Half the time, the energy and emotion you spent dreading/putting off your work is ten times worse than the work itself.
  • Make a list of what needs to be done tomorrow. It’ll set you up for success the next day, and you won’t forget anything!
  • Drink water. Drink water. Drink water. Drink water!!!!!
  • Lay out your clothes for tomorrow. This will save you SO MUCH TIME in the morning omg I can’t even tell you how important this is.
  • Eat something great. And once you’ve decided to be done eating for the night, be done. Brush your teeth so you can’t eat again.
  • After brushing, do a whitening treatment. Whether it’s classic baking soda, a Crest white strip, or a laser. Do something. And floss! Retainers in too, ladies 0:)
  • Relax! Take a few hours to do what YOU want to do. Scroll through Tumblr, binge on some Netflix, FaceTime gossip with your friends, anything. Do whatever makes you happiest. 
  • Shut the electronics off an hour before you want to go to bed. Put your phone on sleep mode. If you stare at the screen, it will keep you awake and alert and you won’t be able to fall asleep. A good night’s sleep is crucial for weightless and general happiness lol
  • Do a quick sweep of your room and see if there’s anything you can put away real quick. A clean space is a happy space.
  • Crawl into your bed (aren’t you happy you took the time to make it?!) and read a book by lamplight for a while. When you start to feel sleepy, go to sleep. Don’t push it. You kicked ass today and you deserve rest. 

EVERY WEEKEND

  • Do something with your friends. It just has to be one thing. Even if you’re just hanging out at the coffee shop, spending time with your squad will make you a better, happier person.
  • Drink water. Drink water. Drink water. Drink water!!!!!
  • Do something just for you. Set your laptop up in the bathroom and watch a Netflix marathon while you take a bubble bath. Buy an old school bottle of Mr. Bubbles ($3 at Target!) and really just soak. Relax. Light a candle.
  • Do something creative. You can read a book, write, blog, draw, code, anything. It just has to be something that speaks to your passion.
  • Track your progress. Just do this once a week so it doesn’t become all-consuming. And remember that non-scale victories are just as important as shedding pounds.
  • Take the time to be grateful. Tell your friend how much you admire her taste in music. Mention to your mom how much you love her cooking and how happy you are that she takes care of you. Thank your teacher after an especially interesting lecture. When you do something awesome, take a moment to admire YOURSELF. Be grateful for even the little things.

Anything I missed? Reblog + add yours! Don’t forget to tag your progress!

1. Go to a party and stay sober. Listen to the way your drunk classmates talk when they don’t plan to remember tonight when they wake up. Never talk about these experiences, just keep them for yourself.
2. Start driving in one direction on the highway after school one day, pretending like you’re running away. Blast bad pop music and sing along. Stop in the suburbs when your mom calls you to come home, but buy your little brother a cupcake before you turn back around.
3. Kiss your best friend. It doesn’t matter what sexuality or gender you are or they are. It doesn’t matter if it’s a peck or you escalate to tongue. You’ll laugh about it later, but it will always make you smile just for the memory.
4. Smoke a cigarette. Let it burn your throat. Cough, loudly.
5. Take a stand for something you believe in. When half your school laughs at you, take it with pride. Someone agrees, even if they’re too scared to say so.
6. Make enemies. Make the kind of mistakes that cause your life to implode. Lose everyone and everything to these mistakes. Only when you fall will you find out that you can pick yourself back up.
7. Sit on someone’s roof and talk for hours. Forget about dinner and tell your origin stories. Let your guard down while the dog barks below. Talk about god. Listen.
8. Steal Bourbon from your parents’ liquor cabinet and put it in a water bottle beneath your bathroom sink. Spike your tea with it when you think you’ve hit rock bottom. Pour the whole thing down the drain when it’s too strong for you.
9. Become a stereotype. Buy a record player and combat boots. Wear all black. Dye your hair bright blue and get your ear pierced three times. Don’t care when people laugh at you.
10. Make wishes at 11:11. Wear your pajamas backwards in the hopes of a snow day. Look for answers at the bottom of a bottle. Pretend writing things on your arms makes you special. Believe in anything. Believe in everything. Open every book and look around every corner. You’ll never look like this or move like this or think like this again. Enjoy it while it lasts or hate every second. But feel. Feel every damn thing.

I want someone to write a book where Mermaids are the women thrown off ships when the sailors got afraid because having a woman on the boat is bad luck. And as they sink to the bottom legs tied together they change slowly until they can breath, until they can use their tied up legs to swim. And they drown sailors in revenge, luring them in by singing in their husky voices still stinging from the salt water they breathed. 

3

Deep in the Mexican jungle, lies an underwater cave called the Angelita Cenote. The pool is 200 feet deep and even contains a separate river that runs along the bottom on the underwater cave. This is due to the different levels of salinity in the water, causing denser water to sink to the bottom.

3

Some fakemon evolves for the mighty shuckle (and also a shuckle)

Second stage:

Shuckuoy, the flotsam Pokemon (water/rock)

Shuckles evolve into this second stage when they are driven from their rocky, mountainous homes and into the surrounding sea. Effortlessly buoyant, shuckuoy float aimlessly on ocean currents, just below the waves.

Third stage:

Shuckliosaur, the tidal Pokemon (dragon/rock)

When the waters grow cold during winter, shuckuoy fall into a dormant state and sink to the bottom of the ocean where they’re buried by the sand. During the next full moon, driven by the tides, shuckuoy evolve into shuckliosaurs. The armor of a shuckliosaur cannot compare to its prior stages, but the speed this aquatic Pokemon exhibits rivals any in the sea.

The Mortar and Pestle

I can think of no tool in a witches’ arsenal which requires more finesse than the mortar and pestle. So often people will pick one up, looking forward to pounding and grinding, not realizing it takes so much more than brute force. Resins will gum up, herbs will be stirred with little to no effect, roots will refuse to powder, all causing a great deal of frustration to those who so looked forward to using this marvelous set. But here’s the secret to using a mortar and pestle: brute force is rarely ever needed, and will not work well in most cases.

Working with resins, herbs, spices, flowers, and more can be maddening with a mortar and pestle, as each of these requires different ways of grinding and working. You cannot approach each the same, as each is entirely different. Simply pounding away at everything will not produce the fine powders so often hoped for. In some cases, a powder is simply not attainable. But, with a little patience and cunning, the tool will serve you well. But before we get to any of that, it’s important to note that if you’re having excessive trouble with working with a mortar and pestle, and the set came from a specialty occult shop, it might just be best to toss it aside. Most of the time these sets are too smooth, not having what it takes to actually grind the materials down. A mortar and pestle made for culinary use is usually the best way to go. Such sets are generally not expensive, and will last you a lifetime.

With that in mind, left’s get right to it! Below are a few examples of the different grinding methods I use.

Resins- Resins can be notoriously difficult to powder properly, often succumbing to the friction between the mortar and pestle and gumming up. Even pounding the resinous chunks too hard will result in sticky pieces. When it comes to tree resins, you must consider what it is you are grinding. Don’t pound the chunks with all your might, or try to grind them with force. No, resins require a delicate touch. Use the pestle to gently hit the chunks until they crack apart. Then use the pestle smoothly, gently, with patience. Resins will take time to powder, giving you plenty of chance to focus your will as you work. Before you know, the gently circular grinding motion will produce a fine powder for any use. Be aware, though, that you cannot use one technique for all resins. Copal powders easier than Dragon’s Blood, which powders far easier than Myrrh.

Dried Herbs and Flowers- Another example of a place where brute force will not serve you, though dried herbs and flowers are much more forgiving. Rosemary, jasmine, lavender, and vervain are all good examples here. Simply stamping at these will not be enough. Often times it takes a gentle grinding of these ti create a suitable material for a powder. Some dried herbs, like mugwort, simply will not powder, whereas Jasmine flowers will be reduced to a fine powder in mere seconds. As with resins, take your time. Be gentle. When you grind dried herbs, you’re either working with botanicals you have dried yourself, or that come prepackaged. If you’ve dried them yourself, you’ll have a much easier time. Prepackaged herbs, while useful at times, are very difficult to grind down any further than the state in which they are purchased. It’s possible to do though with yet more patience.

Dried Roots, Barks, and Berries- Don’t let anyone tell you these are easy to grind because holy mother, that is a lie. Dried roots, bark, and berries are prbably the hardest thing I’ve ever had to grind in my life, and these botanicals are some of the only ones where brute force is your friend. Each of them requires a great deal of power to break down. However, once you’ve pounded them apart, the force is no longer needed. You’ll still have to give it some welly, but it won’t require near as much effort once you’ve broken the materials down. Mandrake root is a good example of this. When dried, mandrake becomes wood-like. It’s very difficult to break down. However, once you’ve got it worked down, you can powder it as you would anything else. Other roots are not so forgiving which is why, if you pull your iwn roots, I encourage you to slice the root pieces into disks. These are much more managable than even small pieces, as the larger surface area gives you more to work with. Bark should be handled much the same. As far as berries, you have to be sure they’re comoletely dry before attempting to work then down. Some berries are far easier to powder than others. Juniper berries (not being real berries) will give you hell. But, as always, keep your patience. It will serve you well.

Fresh Botanicals- This is where you’ll want to forget about powdering. When it comes to fresh botanicals, it’s often only feasable to draw out the juices via stamping and bruising of leaves and flowers, or making a paste by the addition of warm water. Roots will create a paste of their own, as will mucilagenous plants like aloe-vera and marshmallow. Berries will simply muddle down. If you’re trying to get seeds from fruits or berries, you can use a mortar and pestle to (gently) muddle the materials, then add water. After some time, the seeds will sink to the bottom while the body of the fruit/berry floats. Using fresh botanicals in a mortar and pestle can create a great poultice, as well as helping release the volatile oils and constituents of a plants for an infusion or decoction.

However you choose to use your mortar and pestle, remember that it will take time to really understand the tool, and longer to get the hang of it. However, the nortar and pestle is, I feel, and integral part of witchcraft practice. One can learn so much from working their botanicals down, smelling them, hearing them, feong what it takes to break them down, and more. While the mortar and pestle have a great deal of uses beyond just grinding, it’s a great place to start. Happy grinding!

Inktober day 10: Gigantic - I’m sorry it’s a really quick sketchy one today

Uvie zhzg cm xapx cpzw zhr uzggkn
…bhm mpj cv sgkipjmj oa mpg hmgcu

Incredibly bad attempt at writing under the break

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BNHA Pool Headcanons
  • The first summer that the students spent in the dorms, all of them immediately had the idea for a pool party. It took some convincing to get Todoroki, Iida, and Kaminari (for obvious reasons) to go along with the idea, but eventually all of Class 1-A, 1-B, a few friends from the sports festival, and The Big Three to go.
  • Because U.A. doesn’t have a pool that’s really suited to swim in (and neither of them want to use the sick water slide at the USJ due to bad memories), they have to convince Aizawa to let them do it.
    • Spoiler: Aizawa says no initially. It takes Yaoyorozu and a long winded speech for him to begrudgingly agree to it. He makes Present Mic go ask Nedzu permission for a fun field trip, and Mic passes this duty onto All Might.
  • Once everything is in order, the students are allowed one day at the pool with Aizawa, Mic, and All Might all chaperoning. A family vacation can be three dads and 50 kids.
  • Once they arrive to this pool facility, three students immediately go in for the cannonball: Kirishima, Togata, and Tetsutetsu (who sinks to the bottom of the pool and Kirishima has to go get him).
  • The goth squad™ (Jirou, Amajiki, Tokoyami, and Shouji) all find a giant umbrella to sit under so they don’t get sunburn. Aizawa ends up joining them since he also wants to avoid the sun.
    • Amajiki gets dragged out by Togata and Hadou though, so he’s in the water eventually.
  • Aizawa can’t swim, so All Might and Present Mic are the ones responsible for saving children. (Aizawa gets put on snack duty).
  • Midoriya makes it his personal mission to make sure everyone is having a good time, and therefore he spends most of the time watching over Iida and Todoroki (who both need to loosen up).
  • Yaoyorozu makes pool floaties for everyone and gives a special frog float to Asui. She also makes goggles for people and some covers for Iida’s engines.
  • Uraraka and Ashido spend their time playing pool games, and Hagakure joins in. Eventually the girls get everyone to Marco Polo.
    • Monoma cheats. Hard. He jumps out of the pool any time the person that’s “it” gets near him. All the rest of the players try to point this out, but he’s back in the pool before he’s caught. Sneaky.
    • Shinsou also “cheats,” singling out Midoriya each time and making him freeze so he can tag him. Midoriya doesn’t actually mind though.
  • Everyone is allowed to DJ at least two songs unless their music taste is superb. Jirou, Uraraka, Sato, and Aoyama have the best taste in music. Bakugo, Tsunotori, and Sero have the worst taste in music.
  • Speaking of Bakugo, guess which Class 1-A member begins the trend of playing chicken? It’s him, and he climbed right on Kirishima’s shoulders and charged at Kaminari, who in turn scrambled onto Sero’s shoulders.
  • All Might was tasked with breaking this up, as several of the boys joined in, including Todoroki and Midoriya. This was a failed task, as All Might lifts up Uraraka and they become unstoppable.
  • At the end of the day, they all scramble onto the bus, mostly sunburnt and tired. The one who had the most fun that day was Asui, as she finally got to spend time doing something she loved. Iida was also a top contender, but he will never admit that he had that much fun goofing off with his classmates.
  • All the students pass out in the dorm common room, and Aizawa just turns the light off and lets them sleep.
Dandelion-Lavender-Rose Iced Tea 🌹🌼🥃

Items needed:

- Heat
- Strainer
- A Pot of Water
- A Pitcher full of Ice
- Sugar
- Fresh Dandelion: Promotes Psychic Powers, Cleansing, Spirit-Tuning
- Lavender: Happiness, Love, Peace
- Rose: Protection, Anti-Curse, Attracting Positivity

Steps:

Wash off your fresh dandelions with cold water in the strainer. Then, add the fresh dandelion, lavender, and rose petals to the pot of water and bring to a rolling boil. Let boil for ~ 2 more minutes, or until your intuition says it is finished decocting.

Turn off the heat, and let the tea sit for about 7-10 minutes to cool. If your pitcher is plastic, you don’t want to melt it.

Once cooled, pour the tea over ice into your pitcher. Straining is optional depending on whether your iced tea pitcher already has a strainer or not. Keep in mind, the herbs will sink to the bottom and the ice to the top (that’s how i like it). Add four spoonfuls of sugar, and pop it in the fridge for about an hour!

Enjoy!~

consider:

  • ice mermaids that live in the arctics, who swim in the freezing cold water and make their homes in caves
  • lava mermaids that live in volcanoes and swim in the magma, their skin infused with obsidian
  • forest mermaids with slimy skin who live in the swamps/marshes/bogs
  • lake mermaids who hoard the things that sink to the bottom, with long flowy hair like the vegetation
  • river mermaids who dodge rocks as they race other fish down the current, or help them get upstream
  • pond mermaids with colourful koi fish skin/fins who laze around, sunbathing near the surface

consider:

  • mermaids
2

This viral video, shared on the Fishing and Boat Ramp fails Facebook page, has been viewed thousands of times since it was uploaded yesterday. It shows a fish that’s been frozen stiff, then placed into a tub of water with another fish. It starts to defrost and, with a little encouragement, starts swimming again. Viewers have been posting comments attempting to get to the bottom of what’s actually happening in the clip. Some suggested the clip was a fake, but many others say they’d seen fish behaving in a similar way.

“I’ve seen this in person dozens of time,” claimed another. “Ice fishing in New England with extreme cold temperatures. Catch some yellow perch and they freeze almost instantly. Take them home and put them in the sink with water and they start swimming shortly after.”

“To those saying it’s fake,” one viewer wrote, “you can catch a fish and leave it in an ice slurry (has the same effect, they go stiff and pretty much just fall asleep) all day long, then fillet it and find its heart still beating so I’d pretty much believe this, especially if it was just snap frozen for a few hours or less.” (Source)

Why Should I Care For the Oceans?

We’ve all heard it:

“Why does it matter if we overfish tuna? It tastes so good!”

“If the oceans dried up tomorrow, why would I care? I live 500miles away from any body of water!”

The thing is, without the oceans, we would all be dead. Our planet would probably look like Mars. There would be no freshwater, no food for us to eat, no suitable climate for us to survive.

(Photo: Getty Images/iStockphoto)

Whether you live by the coast, or only see the ocean once a year on holiday, the ocean has an impact on your life. Every breath you take, every food or drinks you have… is thanks to our oceans. Every single individual and living being on this planet is deeply connected, and extremely dependent upon our seas.

The oceans regulates climate, weather, and temperature. They act as carbon dioxide ‘sinks’ from the atmosphere. They hold 97% of the Earth’s water. They govern our Earth’s chemistry; all the microbes and microscopic organisms at the very bottom of the food chain support our own existence. The oceans are also crucial for our economies, health and security.

(Photo credit: Brian Skerry)

The past generations have been raised with the idea that the ocean is huge (and it is) and resilient, and that we could basically take from or put into the oceans as much as we wanted. Now, we found out that we cant go on this way. This mentality is part of our problem and it needs to change.

While we have made tremendous discoveries about the oceans over the last few decades, we have also caused more destruction to the sea than ever before. Many fisheries stocks are overfished, catastrophic fishing techniques are destroying the habitats and depleting populations, many marine species are on the verge of extinction, coral reefs are dying, pollution run-offs from agricultural farms are creating dead-zones where nothing can grow or live, millions of gallons of oil have devastated the Gulf of Mexico, bigger and faster container ships create noise pollution for marine mammals and endangers them…The list goes on, and on. We have had so much impact that we have actually changed the pH of the oceans! 

Pretty overwhelming, uh? 

So yes, you should care, because if the oceans crash, we as a species are crashing with them. The entire planet Earth will be gone. And if that’s not enough of a wake-up call for you, I don’t know what else could be!

While all the current marine conservation issues appear huge and insurmountable, there is still hope. Each individual can make a difference now. YOU can make better choices about which fish to consume (or not at all!) and ask about the way they were caught or raised, YOU can encourage sustainable fishing practices, YOU can decide not to use fertilizer or pesticides in your backyard, YOU can bring your own reusable bag to the grocery store and stop using plastics, YOU can stop using products with microbeads, YOU can participate in beach clean-ups, YOU can start your own research and discover even more awesome things about the oceans… YOU can spread the word to your skeptic friends! Have people follow in your footsteps; inspire your friends and family. Be the change :) !

(Photo source: Flickr)

“If you want to have an impact on history and help secure a better future for all that you care about, be alive now” - Sylvia Earle

2 | You’ll Never Walk Alone

BTS + GOT7 X READER [GANG!AU]

WORD COUNT: 4,134

series warnings: mature themes, strong language, violence, substance abuse, eventual smut

masterlist | ask | prev | next

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Rest Stop Part 4

When Lance woke up, his arm wasn’t a bloody mess anymore and he could hear something other than his heartbeat trying to dash out of his body. Exhaling, he scanned the room and realized the quite chatter he heard was from upstairs. It was probably the refugees. He blinked.

The refugees. Wait.

Sleep chamber knees or not, Lance scrambled out of the pod, his armor ruining the impact of the floor when he tripped. Lance kind of needed something to smack some sense in him as he frantically ran for the door.

Keith? Is Keith okay? Is Pidge? Where’s the team? I don’t see anyone in a pod, so that either means everything’s okay or someone’s dead-

Where’s my helmet?

Really, Lance? Now? Of all times?

The itch for to find it doesn’t make much sense until Lance remembers there are communication systems in his helmet. I’m a genius!

After three seconds of looking around the room like an idiot, Lance spots it on top of his folded jacket and jeans. His shoes sat next to them. Someone must have thought to leave them there for him, which was nice, but he wasn’t going to take off his armor until he knew no one was dead or in danger. Picking it up, he pushes it on his head and sighs as it turns on at his DNA signature. “Hello, anyone there?”

“Lance!” Allura’s pleased voice overwhelms him for a second, but he focuses on what she says. “I’m glad you’re awake. All the prisoners are located in the ballroom, and there were only a handful of injuries. Your fellow paladins are safe and doing recon at the moment. You can change into your regular clothes and join them in you wish, but Coran and I wouldn’t mind you hanging back.”

He smiles. Good, everyone was accounted for. “Nah, I’ll go.” He says, shucking off the armor on his calves. He pulls it off while Allura chatters on. “Okay, I’ll send them a message to let them know you woke up and will be joining them shortly. They’re on the coast of this island, which is relatively small, so you’ll be fine walking out the castle door and straight. Rest up when you’re done. We can’t have a paladin tired from battle injuries. Don’t think you can get away with it either. Hunk has a drone with him that monitors the rescue and I will see if you try anything reckless.”

“Okay, Allura.” He laughs, removing his chest plate. She huffs, and says goodbye, the switches off the coms. Lance pulls off his helmet and peels away his flight suit. His back is wide, exposed, and easy to see.

He knows. He knows. He should hurry.


Keith toes a thick chip of metal, flipping it over in a pile of rubble. They’ve just cleared out another jetty, reeling in prisoners with Pidge’s bayard on the floating escape pods, and pointing out the direction they should walk for help. A furry pile of three distinct round mounds hops past quickly, fluffy pastel fur tickling the other colors. It chirps in thanks before speeding up. Cold, dry hands pat Keith on the arm in gratitude as a leathery mix of tree and human walks past, thin legs extending to move the whole body like it’s floating above it.

He huffs. He wants Lance.

Yeah, he could admit it. Lance, was a solid person to have beside him. He always had Keith’s back, he was loyal and funny, and he had just taken a bullet for him. He wanted to make sure he was okay. He wouldn’t stop looking back, searching for a rustle in the bushes and a bright smile, his heart lighter but impatient without Lance.

Keith sighed and crossed his arms, smiling tiredly.

Yeah, he really couldn’t wait to have his sharpshooter by his side again.

After all, a good team takes two.


Lance tugs on the waistband of his jeans and slips on his shoes.

His armor is a heap on the floor in front of the pod - he’ll have to come pick it up later. Anxiety twirls around by his feet and dances up towards his back. His exposed back. There’s a problem. He needs to cover his tan skin immediately. But he hadn’t been left a shirt. He’d have to wear just his jacket and not take it off.

They did “salvage” in casual clothes for a reason. The armor, as protective as it was, added weight. It might have been light and flexible, but it still got in the way of some maneuvers, and if someone fell in water, it would weigh them down. Even if the helmet had life support, it only lasted so long. There were too many “what if’s” when it came to the armor and water. Their best chance at surviving was getting to the surface as fast as possible. Unnecessary weight would slow them down.

Funny how Lance was only physically light. He sunk like a rock everywhere else.

It was ironic how many people would want him to drown when he was the only one who could swim.

Stuffing his arms inside, Lance shrugged on his jacket, and zipped it up. He passed through the halls like a ghost, the survivors busy chattering around him. Demon held inside his jacket, he walked out into the semi tropical rainforest.


It was the worst possible situation.

Lance had just brushed past a leafy bush to have the sea roar in his ears and salt hit his lips. The team was hovering over the rocky coast that disappeared into the blue ocean, craving to save the pod tittering on a small cliff of rock, but unable to risk crossing the water. The pod was absolutely trashed , the spike of obsidian piercing the buoyancy - if it fell, it’d sink to the bottom. Flying out would get them both killed - the pod could fall and take one of the team down, trapping them in the waves, and both the prisoners and them would drown. But what made it horribly, horribly worse was who was in the pod.

“Dad! Matt!”

Two recongzinable faces peered out the door way, the door probably having been ripped off in the crash. Matt was gripping the edge, bracing himself and using his leg to hold back a weary Samuel Holt. He was definitely injured, unconcious, the small trail of dark blood dripping off into the ocean. The sea rocked and churned underneath them, an uncomplete death sentence, and the pod creaked ominously, ready to give in and crash at any second. Dread sat heavy on Lance’s tongue.

“Katie…”

Shiro was grasping Pidge by a hand, his face terrified but trying to gain control. Pidge wasn’t struggling against Shiro- she was struggling against herself, desperation written in her features, but the menacing roll of the ocean warded her away. All she wanted was to save them, Lance could tell, but her body was screaming to flee the water, to fly, to escape being dragged from the sky, dragged to a heavy, wet death. Hunk and Keith looked like a watered down version - scared, cautious motions back and forth, unsure and scared.

Lance’s hand was already playing with his zipper.

Everything about Matt screamed tense and near frantic. Tensed like a cat, his body locked against the open air, sagging like an acrobat on ropes, Matt clearly was trying to find a way out of this without killing himself, his dad, or his sister. But he hadn’t found a possibility. If he moved, the pod would tilt with his weight, or his dad would fall into the water. No one could fly out to them - he’d have to get off himself. But he couldn’t move, the floor of the pod wrecked with a spike behind him and Samuel supported by his leg.

Lance could be that possibility.

Like a sick bird that had finally had enough, the pod plummeted in the water with the screech of torn metal.

Pidge’s heartbroken scream matched it.

Lance was tearing out of his shoes and jacket, tossing it in the sand, head leaps and bounds ahead of him. Sand kicked up from his sprint sprayed the droid and the team as he raced past. Lance could feel their incredulous stares go from the flooded hunk of metal to his bare back, but it didn’t freeze the determination in his veins. He dove in the water with a splash.

Calm was the first word in his mind when the swirling blue washed over his head. It was calm here, the gentle roll of the current miles below him. He was light, weightless. The second word was control. In water, Lance was in command, a quiet authority. He pushed and pulled himself along, arms scooping out his way. Quick, strong kicks brought him to the submerged metal ship, and he pressed two hands to the metal, looking for the window. This ocean wasn’t his, wasn’t theirs’s. They needed to get out soon.

Gliding in through the empty window frame, Lance slinked up to search over the jagged metal and broken, dead wires. Matt’s transfixed face meet his. His eyebrows furrowed, and for someone who should be drowning, he was doing remarkably well at staying calm.

Matt stared at him as if he was a mirage almost, but Lance could tell Matt was the kind who didn’t care as long as they didn’t die. Tapping the roof of cramped pod, Lance waited for Matt to nod before reaching over and working Samuel over the barrier with him, pulling the older man into his arms. A cut craved out a thin line across his calf, a blood came from a smaller one of his head. He was clearly passed out and needed to be brought to the surface ASAP. Lance smiled and held up one finger, then two. Realizing Lance would come back for him, Matt nodded sagely and floated back.

Propelling off the wall, Lance left water dragging behind him. The weight in his arms was incredible - the man wasn’t much shorter than him but had to weigh almost twice as much with his wings.

Thick and waterlogged, they curved and looked fluffy like Pidge’s. Lowered with age, his wings dragged behind him like a pair of broken airplane wings. Streaked with brown and gray darker than Pidge’s, they’d ironically cause the man they made light to drown like an anchor if Lance let go.

He doesn’t dare tempt this new ocean.

Breaking past the surface with a gasp, Lance clutches Samuel to his chest and awkwardly swims to shore with one arm. Scrambling up the loose, wet clumps of sand, he ignores the stricken staring of them team and flips Samuel on his back.

He starts pumping Samuel’s chest.

Come on, come on.

He’s on a time limit, damnit!

He pushes harder, and Samuel suddenly jerks against him, coughing water out of his lungs. Lance takes the second to arrange him on his side so he doesn’t choke on his own vomit, then dashes back into the ocean. His kicks are a last-ditch effort that pay off, literally almost ramming himself into the pod. He yanks himself through the window and nearly slices his hand open on the broken metal wall. He might not be able to fly, but he can swim and save someone drowning. He can. He can, no matter how worthless he is. It is called a trash can - not a trash cannot. (He thinks that’s a line from some anime, but he doesn’t have time to really ask himself if he made a refrence while saving someone drowning. He probably did).

Matt’s lips are turning blue when Lance arrives. His jaw is set and cheeks ballooned out, precious oxygen held inside. Quickly, he reaches out to Lance, who helps him over the wreckage. Wrapping his arms around Lance’s neck, he tucks himself against his body. Lance latches an arm around him, careful to hook it under his wings. They are near replicas of Pidge’s, though clearly entering the final stages. Less childish, more rectangular in design, with darker hints of brown. The tops poke Lance gently in the face, but the bottoms are pressed to Matt’s knees.

Using the smooth sheet of metal as a boost, Lance rushed up to the surface, leaving the pod to sink even faster than before. The distance was greater, the weight heavy, and the time less, but he’d have wings before he let go of Matt.

Bobbing to the surface, he gulps in air. Matt is sucking in giant breathes against his neck, giggling and trembling with relief. He even happy kick-spams to shore with Lance.

But relief is far, far, away from Lance.

The weight of a wingless world crashes on his back, so, so much heavier than Matt or Samuel.

His shoes are too far away.

Shit.

He doesn’t wait for the team to ask questions, doesn’t give the anxiety and self hate a chance to strike, snatching up his jacket. There’s a quick “Hey-” before water is filling his ears again, and he’s swimming out, swimming away. Desperation and adrenaline sing in his veins, overruling this sea’s temper. This isn’t his ocean. The pushes and pulls are closer to shoves and yanks, semi-aggressively telling him to leave, but Lance makes his way through anyhow. Currents a similar shade of blue to the ones from Earth twirl around him, tiny air bubbles decorating them like stars. It’s frigid, a cold, agitated embrace that makes Lance burn in a satisfying way. He wasn’t like the others, he couldn’t be. No one wanted a wingless. Nothing was ever permanent, not even love.

Lance comes up for air, swallowing a lungful before smoothing back down into the deep. The few seconds he’s up, he hears the team,incomprehensible , but they’ve figured out he’s leaving. Fear pounding at the brittle door calm forces up in his head, Lance dives deeper, the water turning darker without the sunlight. He can still see, but the water is a murky, dusty blue, not the clear, aqua where the light reflects easily. His speed is probably breaking any records he’s had before. Nothing like the people you came to love hating you to make you have a lighting fast exit.

Rocketing through the water, Lance left giant disturbances in his wake. Air bubbles burst out of existence behind him. He had already shifted when he came up for air - his hands curved out his path with the webbing, and the water pressure boxed gently on his ears. His knees weren’t knees anymore, just two long, flat masses of flesh and bone that shot him through the water. The second pair of eyelids he had blinked out any grime in the water, the rhythm different and more pronounced than his first pair. His tongue pressed against the sharp eyeteeth in his mouth, the threat of nicking his tongue grounding him.

He doesn’t know how long he swims, limbs throbbing with fluid energy. He goes until rocks start to spike up, some gentle curves and other sudden daggers slicing through the water. Miles below, he can spot the muddled, bright light purple and galaxy red glow of underwater volcanoes in the darkness. Lance hasn’t seen anything alive yet, but he knew better than to test it by exploring near lava.

Gliding up against the smooth rock, Lance spots the openings to caves, pretty corals fanning out from them and shells dotted here and there. Clutching his jacket tighter, he twists through one. It’s small, and hallow, the water pooling much lower than the majority of the rock. The roaring of the waves crashing washes over the cave, but the cave shelters him. Coal black rock juts out here and there, blocky, but gorgeous in the way only sea caves were. Soft colored crystals lit up small patches of shadow, a handful clustered around an alcove.

Carefully, he clambers up the dry rock to the opening and settles back into it, his knees pulled to his chest, cheek resting against the even rock. The anxiety coils up inside his neck.

Now they despise you.

I mean, why wouldn’t they?

Even you despise you.

Useless, ugly, waste of space. Wingless.

Just drown in that goddamn ugly water you call home.

It suits you.

Nothing but extra weight.

God, why do you exist?

Chilly air pricks at Lance’s bare feet. He tucks himself tighter, wriggling his toes. His jacket is drenched, but he drapes it around the exposed parts of his back. He clings to the rock, hoping the warmth will come back. He’s not freezing, but numb, like rain soaked pavement.

Leave already!

He could stop here, lulled by the tune of a sea that wasn’t his, void emotions filling up his silhouette, abandoned by himself, half asleep in a crevice with a mundane storm brewing over head.

Yes, this would make a good rest stop.

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!”

No decency II pt.2

Jungkook x reader

genre: smut, fluff, stepbrother!jungkook

word count: 10k


The next week Jungkook’s attitude made a turn, letting you relax around him until a night escalated and you got to see a side of him you never thought he would reveal to you.

Originally posted by kookieinfirestae

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