#and this is one of my favorite moments. nothing says family and ily like checking someone's temperature <3

[spiltscribbles]

Worth It

~Notes: Oof, I know I have so many prompts in my inbox and I appreciate them so much! But I wanted to write something after dinner in dedication and a gift to the lovely Remus-John-Lupin!!!!!!!<3<3<3 I love you RJ and I appreciate you and your friendship so fucking much, so this is just a strange little gift from me to you in thanks for how kind you’ve always been to me since I joined this crazy fandom, ILY and you’re my favorite slag!!!!

.-

Sirius silently reminds himself that he in fact likes Lily, he thinks she’s a total knock out and is happy that his brother is finally getting to date the girl of his dreams. He likes her damn it,! And one does not commit battery to folks that they like.

Assured that his pure irritation won’t bleed through his words, Sirius tries again in his most charming of inflections. “All I want is his number.”

“No,” she repeats, casually steadfast while poking at her salad— Not even bothering to flick her gaze up at an increasingly irate Sirius.

“Why are you being so fucking difficult!”

“Why are you still bitching about this,” she counters, finally giving him her undivided attention, even if it’s her glaring at him like she’d like to skewer Sirius on a stick.

“Hey guys, let’s chill.” James tries to mediate, laughing awkwardly between the pair of them, hand raised in concession and glasses going a bit skewed.

They promptly ignore him.

“I like him. What is so difficult to understand Evans? Aren’t you like supposed to be some brainiac or some shit?”

“It’s been like two months Black,” she says pointedly, grip on her fork tightening while her mouth curls unpleasantly. “That’s way past your ordinary infatuations, so why the hell do you still even care.”

Sirius bares his teeth, pinning her with a glower that once made an old school yard bully of Regulus’s actually piss his pants. So of course Lily doesn’t even flinch. “He’s cute.”

“You’re a dog.”

“You’re being a total ass.”

“And you’re a bastard.”

“But you love me though.”

“Just barely.”

“So you’ll give me Remus’s number?”

“Dream on.” she says with a lofty sniff and haughty flip of the hair, discarding her barely eaten lunch before swaggering over to where a group of her friends from the STEM club are sat, including Alice Flores and Dorcas Meadowes. 

“Guess you’re back to square one Pads.” James says, unhelpful as fuck, so Sirius only flips him off before snatching back his calculus homework from a pitiful looking Peter.

“Fuck this.”

.-

Sirius thinks of himself as a reasonable sort of guy.

He isn’t one for holding grudges or obsessing over perceived slights. He’s brilliant whether he’s playing linebacker on the field or taking a exam in class.

For fuck’s sake, Sirius  can be plumped down in any and all social situations without warning, and can have the room eating out the palm of his hand within the first five minutes.

In layman’s terms, he’s decent and driven and downright charismatic. Mix this all together, and well Sirius thinks he’s a pretty fantastic fucking package— if he does say so himself. He can have his pick of the lot, truly. Especially when walking down the halls flocked by his best friend turned second brother on one end and little Petey, who’s a great hype man, on the other. So its only poetic justice that the one person who’s been able to swallow up all his attention is the one person who doesn’t even give him a second glance most days.

And that’s fucking ridiculous.

This is ridiculous! He is fucking ridiculous! No, record scratch. Remus fucking Lupin is the most ridiculous part of this all!

Remus lupin with his delightfully disheveled hair the color of gold and his crooked grin that’s everything darling in the world, and his big doe eyes that sometimes flare with green specs when he’s especially passionate in class or when he’s chatting with Lily in the halls. Remus lupin who’s only just moved here to Murray Hill from a small town in southern Illinois and who toppled Sirius’s world upside-down while he was at it. 

The first time they met was completely on accident.

It was the week before classes began, and Sirius had only just come back from his family trip to their villa in Rome, and he was only meant to meet James at the coffee shop that Lily was working at now. They were suppose to head to the city and go out drinking to celebrate the start of their senior year.  Sirius was suppose to find a nice, college aged girl to fuck because he’s given up on the boring lot that infests Hogwarts these days. It was suppose to be easy and fun and he was suppose to stay stringless and unattached as ever.

But that didn’t happen.

Instead, Sirius walked into the Howling Moon  and was met by the sight of the most lovely, most gorgeous boy he’s ever met. Hand to God, it felt like one of those slow motion moments in a Romantic Comedy when the disgruntled, wayward lead first sets their eyes on that love interest— the one to out shine all others, the one  who turns everything inside out and makes it all glitter gold.

“Hey there,” Remus had grinned like the fucking sun, slipping the pen from his ear and hand poised over the cups lining the counter. “What can I get ya?”

“Oh, erm— Yeah. Just a caramel macchiato, iced.”Sirius’s ordinarily smooth baritone almost fucking cracked while ordering, and Remus’s beautiful eyes had glittered.

“Would’ve taken you for a dark roast sort of guy.” He said, and Sirius swears that it was playful and flirtatious and a little mischievous too. 

Sirius was in love.

“I’ve been known to partake in sweets, you know, if they catch my eye,” he replied, eyes lingering meaningfully up and down Remus’s slighter frame.

“What a come on,” Remus had laughed, head thrown back to show off his long neck and Sirius was so fucking gobsmacked at how it quite literally sounded like all the most splendid instruments woven together.

He had ducked his head, so unordinary bashful but so beyond pleased. “What can I say beautiful, you bring it out of me.”

“”Cute.” Remus had chuckled, cheeks going a fetching red and scribbling down the order. “Definitely one of the more interesting one liners I’ve gotten today.”

Sirius ignored the flare of jealousy over that, considering that he hasn’t gotten to even kiss him yet, and he should probably take this slow if he doesn’t want to screw it up. “Has anyone of those bastards mentioned how your eyes put the brownies on sale to shame?”

“No one as hot as you if I’m being honest,” Remus retorted, ringing him up and sinking his teeth into his plump bottom lip. And fuck, Sirius knew he was in trouble from then on.

They had talked for over half an hour about nothing at all in that tiny bistro while Remus was busy exchanging the coffee pots for a fresh batch and rearranging the baked goods, and it was amazing.

 Sirius has always been someone who couldn’t sit still, who had to be fluttering all over the place to feel like he was actually headed somewhere, like he was getting something finished. But for the first time in too long, just sitting there, still and silent and besotted while Remus chatted about his hometown and moving half way across the country and his eccentric mother— Well Sirius felt completely balanced, completely calm. He felt like just as long as Remus was their chatting with him and smiling in that beguiling way of his, that Sirius could actually breathe without pressure. Like he knew what it meant to have a center.

So of course, right when he decided that he was going to snatch him up— to ask him out on a date before anyone else from their shitty class filled with degenerates and dick heads could— Lily of all people  had swaggered in, and gave him a caustic sort of glower that plainly said, keep the fuck away.

Ordinarily Sirius would’ve completely ignored her warning, would’ve unashamedly and excitedly chased after the cutest fucking boy he’s ever laid his eyes on with an absurd sort of zeal. But he under estimated just how much sway Lily was able to cater with Remus in the few weeks they worked with one another before he had met him. So instead of starting off the year with a brand new, insanely pretty boyfriend wrapped around one arm, Sirius has just spent the past nine weeks pining like a fucking love sick loser. Like he was starring in some cheesy John Hughes movie from the damn 80s!

And this will not do, this is not all right, not okay at all.

Sirius needs to figure out a way to get close to Remus, and outside of Lily’s overbearing claws. Something that only Remus likes, that Sirius can partake in to prove himself worthy.

As he promenades down the hall towards his free period, Sirius creates a mental check list of the things he knows Remus enjoys.

Remus enjoys poetry, and Sirius knows that he’s part of the school’s award winning Forensics team. But they meet during the football practices so Sirius couldn’t even try to impress him in that arena until the spring. He also knows that Remus likes history, that he’s going to end up majoring in classics in University, but Sirius really doubts his ability to memorize the Iliad in the matter of a few hours— He’s good, but not that good.

“Jesus fuck is this hard,” he mutters nastily to himself, tugging at the ends of his dark hair before ramming straight into a display outside the southern wing of their preparatory school’s building.

He winces, not so much for the throbbing in his toes, but because of Marlene’s snappish attitude when he makes it so that the table shakes.

“Keep your head out your ass Black,” she scolds before going back to filing her nails. And Sirius is about to snipe right back at her— That is until he catches on the bright poster adorned with small rainbows and the words, GSA FOOD DRIVE spelt out in large lettering.

And oh!

“Eureka!”

“Pardon?” Marlene asks, nose wrinkled indelicately as she eyes him like he’s about to puke on her brand new Doc Martens again like last weekend. Holy shit, she should really get over it by now.

But Sirius is smart enough and tactful enough not to mention his thoughts on the matter, only smiles down at her with pure elation. “Marls, what if I said I had a brilliant idea to help our lovely GSA.”

“I’d accuse you to only doing it to try and get in Lupin’s pants since he’s our new VP.”

Sirius grapples for his chest, feigning indignant. “You pain me my old friend.”

Marlene snorts. “Tell me I’m wrong.”

“That’s neither here nor there.”

“So are your chances with Lupin.”

“You’re a sick fuck McKinnon.”

“What do you want from me you gnat.”

“Let me help with the fundraiser.”

“What’s in it for me?”

“I’ll tell Lily to get Meadowes to notice you?”

Marlene glares at him now. “We’ve been fucking for like a month you prick.”

“Oh— Erm, then for some of that good old Bi unity?”

Marlene suddenly looks so very shrewd and Sirius hates how every fucking woman in his life could eat him whole for breakfast. “Absolutely not.”

“Fine, what the fuck do you want.”

“You cover Fabian’s costs for the goods  when we go to that rave for 2KBABY in January.”

“Eh, didn’t you guys use to fuck?”

“Yes. But I don’t see the connection?”

“He won’t even give you a discount on the good shit?”

“Oh he does,” she leers, blue eyes glinting wickedly in the hallway light. “But I’d rather see you pay full price for’m.”

Sirius glares down at her, and repeats himself.  “You. Are. A. Sick. Fuck.”

Marlene just lies back in her seat and returns to manicuring her nails. “Well if cheekbones isn’t worth the bother?”

“Fine,” Sirius all but growls out. “But we do this my way.”

“Scout’s honor handsome,” she absolutely beams, and Sirius reminds himself that this is all for Remus and that’s worth it at the end of the day.

.-

It’s a week later, right before Thanksgiving break hits, and Sirius is sat in front of the cafeteria, smirking at the line of mostly pink faced girls and a few others amongst their midst, who have all queued up in front of him. A dollar in each of their hands, though he does see that a few have fives and even tens or more, and he doesn’t know how to subtly tell them that all he’s promising is a quick peck of his lips, and absolutely no other groping— including of his legendary ass or admittedly perfect abs.

“You’re just really enjoying yourself, aren’t you.” James hisses besides him after the latest girl— a blonde sophomore who’s decked out in Lulu Lemon for their only non uniform day of the week— scurries off. “Just a ego trip.”

���Jealous Jamie darling?” Sirius boasts, tipping back on his chair while Marlene collects the cash from the next five in line so that they can clammer closer towards him.

“I can’t believe all of them want to kiss you,” Peter marvels, round eyes completely in aw. 

“I can’t believe you think this is how to get Remus’s attention,” Lily interjects huffily, lips set in a moody pout while perched on James’s lap to Sirius’s left.

“I bet you would’ve been in line if you weren’t dating Jamie here.” Sirius counters, smug as all get out, and laughing when all Lily deigns as a adequate response is her middle finger.

Sirius is on cloud nine. He can’t believe he didn’t think of this sooner! Remus loves all this shit, from the club to the charity. This is perfect! This basically guarantees that he’ll finally get a good smooch on him. And once their lips finally  touch, Remus will surely feel the swarm of butterflies in his gut just like in those Harleyquin romance novels his cousin Narcissa would always read with a dreamy look on her face during their various Family vacations.

“You’re not gonna get him this way.”

“He’s not gonna know what hit’m Evans,” Sirius retorts, completely self assured.

.-

One should never bet against Lily Marie Evans.

Sirius knows this now. But he still hates it with the passion of a thousand burning suns.

By the end of the lunch hour, Sirius’s earned over sixty bucks to the GSA’s fundraiser fund, and absolutely zero potential boyfriends who look like golden angels and make Sirius’s knees weak.

“I told you,” Lily says in that sing-song sort of voice that is so not appreciated right now. “Remus is not the type to kiss you in front of a huge crowd and after like a bunch of others. That’s not his style.”

Sirius is moody as all get out, and he’s irritated that he’s just wasted five dozen perfectly fine kisses on folks who aren’t Remus, so he doesn’t bother to hide his irritation when he gripes back at her, “Then tell me what the fuck is his style.”

Miraculously, that actually proved enough to get Lily to slow down her stroll, and cock her head curiously at him. “You actually care.”

“What the fuck have I been trying to tell you Evans!” He nearly shouts.

“I just thought— You know. That it was a game.”

Sirius’s face goes stoney, and he juts his chin away from her. “It’s not always a fucking game, all right. It’s not a game with him— I like him. I like Remus.”

“Oh,” Lily says very quietly, her face pulled in a thousand different directions before settling on something akin to solemn. “You should go to the music room for your free period today.”

Sirius quirks a brow at her, frowning while he asks, “Why?”

“Just trust me S,” she says, reaching over her hand to squeeze his forearm.

Sirius watches her walk off, hand in hand with James, and he feels a strange twisting to his heart when he imagines a very similar image— only with him and Remus and punctuated by plenty of kisses to the cheek, and jawline and lips too.

.-

The music room is towards the back of the school, in a separate building along with the theatre and main auditorium.

The early autumnal chill lashes against Sirius’s face while he makes the track to the room, continuously chanting to himself that he actually trusts Lily and this is gonna be worth it if there’s a merciful God up there.

Once Sirius clammers in doors, he rubs his cold hands together, and shakes out his hair. 

The first thing he hears is the soft strumming of a guitar, and finds himself in front of the music room after following its melodic toon. 

Through the window he can spot the form of Remus bent over the instrument, his thick curls getting in his eyes and his steady hands plucking a few chords as he sits cross legged atop the piano.

Sirius feels his heart lodging in his throat at the sight of him, so beautiful and perfect and warm looking in that scarlet sweater. And he knows in his bones that this is some sort of unspoken blessing that Lily’s given him, so with a deep breath, Sirius opens the door and strolls in.

Remus starts slightly, going flushed once his eyes catch on Sirius’s own.

“Oh Sirius,” he greets, the corners of his mouth tipping into a smile that doesn’t ring true. “You pulled away from the haram?”

“That’s a bit much? Calling them a haram,” Sirius says cooly, hitching up besides him and swinging his long legs. “I just did it to help you.”

“Oh— Yeah,” Remus nods. “The GSA appreciates all the help we can get.”  His words are quiet, and he’s rinsing a hand through his curls, so Sirius can tell that he’s a bit nervous. And it’s impossibly cute, but also not on. He doubts that he’ll ever get his kiss if Remus won’t even look at him in the eyes.

Gingerly, Sirius sets the pad of his pointer finger beneath Remus’s chin, lifting his gaze upwards. “Not the GSA— Though I appreciate the club’s work and your part in that.”

“Oh,” Remus says again, lips pursed and his throat pulsing when he swallows down. “Then—“

“I did it for you Remus,” Sirius repeats heatedly. “I did it because I’ve been mad for you since ever meeting you in August, and I can’t get your fucking face or name or lips or ass out of my head. And I thought that if maybe I pulled a dumb stunt like that, you would actually kiss me along with the lot of those idiots who can’t even hold a candle to you.”

“M—My ass?” Remus questions, voice going pitchy and face bright with emotion. 

Sirius laughs, booming and bombastic. “You have the best ass I’ve ever seen Remus Lupin and it’s really obscene.”

Remus shoulder checks him, looking down and then back up through his lashes at Sirius and it’s a sight Sirius wish he can keep with him for the rest of his days.

“So you thought I’d want our first kiss to happen after you’ve just made out with half the school?” 

Sirius grimaces, bending down so that their lips are only inches apart. “Listen, I can be a complete dumb ass on occasion.”

“Don’t forget arrogant.”

“Okay, fair.”

“And brash too.”

“Right.”

“Also you tend—“

Sirius places a soft hand over Remus’s supple lips, glaring teasingly at the other boy, who’s grinning like the cat who’s caught the canary, his eyes teeming with laughter. 

Remus Lupin is going to be the death of  him, Sirius knows it.

“Listen Lupin, I’d like a shred of self respect here, so I can actually muster up the courage to ask you out on a proper date already.”

Remus perks at that, so Sirius moves his grasp.

 “You wanna ask me out?”

“Depends…. You wanna continue that little rant until I’m blue balled and  gutless.”

“Hmm,” Remus inches closer, setting his hand over Sirius’s on the piano. “Nah, I think I’d rather do this.”

He leans forwards and Sirius barely has enough time to gather his bearings when he feels Remus’s mouth over his own and it’s literally every starlit promise and sugar burnt secret and sunlit afternoon all rolled into one. And Sirius feels his heart thud an uneven staccato when he grabs for either end of Remus’s waistline and plunges his tongue into his own and he lets himself get lost in the overwhelming feeling of it all.

#WOLFSTAR #REMUS LUPIN #SIRIUS BLACK #MARAUDERS #HARRY POTTER SERIES #💜rj💜 #SPILT INK

[suntrastar]

sink or swim

pairing: ransom drysdale x reader

summary: you first meet ransom when meg drags you along to a party. everything somehow spirals from there.

warnings: swearing, smut (but like very vague smut, nothing super explicit), ransom’s general assholery

word count: 9.3k

author’s note: i hate ransom drysdale! he is a shit character! if he existed irl i would whoop his ass with NO hesitation. but i still wrote this fic because ... a bitch gets thirsty okay?? okay. and ik this is very long BUT a lot of it is dialogue so it should flow pretty fast!!! likes and reblogs are always appreciated!!! ily now enjoy!!! you can also read this on ao3 :)

There’s something fun about being somewhere where no one wants you, and then something shameful. 

Meg isn’t touching you, but as she drags you around her famous grandfather’s mansion in search of people to bother, it feels like she has you on an invisible leash, fastened tight over your neck. To keep you tethered to her- like a fucking dog. 

The leash hurts like it is not made of plastic or metal but instead two hands squeezing tight, wringing you dry, choking you harder and harder and bruising you purple with no remorse.

Now, she’s debating political theory with her douchebag fuck of an uncle, who almost hits you once- almost hits you twice with his cane while waving it around as he quotes Fox News-

Their voices rise. You’re the only one that flinches.

Standing awkwardly on the edge, you wonder why you are the only guest at this terrible party that looks so lost. Meg gives you a covert this-is-total-bullshit glance, and a small, pained, rehearsed smile, both of which you have to return- that’s the real reason you’re here, after all- and her uncle rants on, wholly oblivious.

You look past them both, to where one man stands by himself.

He’s leaning against the far wall, and while Meg retaliates with some of her favorite words, including audacity and bigoted and problematic, you take a sudden, intense interest in the wallpaper pattern, sweeping your eyes over the span of it, looking over the man just once.

He is staring right back at you.

All it takes is his eyes- he’s just staring, but you’re absolutely embarrassed. 

He looks rich, with too much product in his hair and a coat that looks like it cost more than your rent, with loafers that expose an uncomfortable amount of ankle and an expression that morphs into something wolfish as he starts towards you-

Before you can think, he’s joined your little circle- Meg prefers standing, so of course, everyone stands- and smiles when she glares at him. 

He isn’t looking at you anymore.

“So,” he interrupts, and his voice is so dark, “what riveting political topic are we debating tonight?”

You should call an Uber. Why did you accept Meg’s offer of a ride?

“Ransom,” Meg says sweetly, “could you just, like, fucking not?”

This is supposed to be a Christmas party, but none of these people seem to be in the Christmas spirit. Including her uncle, with his stuffy sweater set and clunky-as-hell shoes. He sputters something about young people and their profanity, and then hastily leaves. 

Without thinking, you breathe out a heavy sigh of relief. 

The man smiles wider. Unfortunately, it makes him look very handsome.

”Ouch,” he says lightly, to Meg, and turns to you.

A shiver runs down your spine. 

You hate him immediately. 

“Who are you?” he asks.

For whatever reason, the question makes Meg scoff. She shakes her head at you- a warning. Her hair flounces with the movement.

Because she doesn’t want you to, you give him your name. And then add, because your name alone seems like a title too stripped down, “I’m Meg’s friend.”

It’s hard to convince yourself to be polite, when you don’t like how he’s been looking at you- with his eyes narrowed and brown furrowed and lips parted. He gives an insufferable nod.

“Right,” he says. “The one she’s been showing off all evening.”

Your heart skips a beat.

“Ransom-” Meg starts, and suddenly you are so angry, at this man for confirming what you thought was all in your head, at Meg for suddenly swooping in to save you, like she’s been waiting for it-

“I guess,” you say, and smile a little, and regret everything.

“That’s pathetic,” he says, and looks at you kindly.

 Apparently, Meg is the only one allowed to be self-righteous in her annoyance, or anger, or any other mildly passionate emotion. She doesn’t return your covert this-is-total-bullshit glance. 

So you fend for yourself.

“Well, so is this fucking party, so-”

He interrupts you with a laugh. 

It’s loud and arrogant and mirthless, and you’ll climb out of a window, find a way to walk through the walls, if it means that you’ll escape it.

“I’m just joking,” he says, pursing his lips, and the hands on your neck, ever-present, nearly crush the breath out of you. “Don’t get your panties all in a twist.”

“So funny I forgot to laugh,” you say, and instead of replying, he just looks at you.

He looks at you slowly, like he has nothing better to do, like he has time to waste. You can smell him- some cologne that’s spicy, and expensive, and Meg is staring at you in shock, like you’ve committed a crime. 

But she’s quiet.

“I’m Ransom,” he says, and raises his hands to make little air quotes, which is weirdly adorable in a way that you hate, “Meg’s ‘asshole cousin’”

“Weird name,” you say. 

You’ve changed your mind- you’re not even going to attempt to be nice.

For a second, he looks furious.

It’s attractive.

“Yeah,” he says. “Anyways, I’m about to ditch. Do you want a ride?”

How does he know you came here with Meg?

He was staring at you from the wall-

From his butterscotch-colored coat with its awful, ostensible lapels, he pulls out his car keys. The BMW logo flashes silver and blue, clashing against the gold of his pinky ring, clinking against the metal as he twirls the key ring around his finger-

For a second, you think that he’s about to toss the keys across the room and command you to fetch.

“Um,” you say, uncertainly, irritated with your own restraint, “Thanks, but Meg will-”

“Meg will what?”

He’s mocking you, and there is no one to come to your rescue. 

Hesitantly, like she has to think twice about it, Meg opens her mouth to say something. What is her problem? What is your problem? Why are you treating her like she is your saving grace? 

You talk before she gets the chance. “Okay, yeah. A ride would be great.”

***

Ransom offers because he likes your face.

You’re better-looking than the girls that Meg usually brings along to these parties, or maybe his standards have fallen- he isn't sure. Does it really matter? Even though he’s been looking at you all night, even though he’s positively thrilled to have you in his car, he’s not going to try anything.

There’s something desperate in your eyes that compels him against it.

You inhale sharply when he turns left. 

“You forgot your turn signal,” you say, and he kind of likes how you chastise him, not angrily or even upset, but just exasperated-

How is someone like you friends with someone like Meg?

“Don’t worry about it,” he says lightly, and the tired glare you give him is enough to make his entire week.

Now that he thinks about it, his mother is always on his case about things like this- compassion and civility and basic human decency, and how he lacks it all, but what about now? He’s taking a miserable girl to her home, simply from the goodness of his own heart, with no strings attached. 

This is such a good deed- this is like charity.

His mother is also always telling him that he’s severely, almost clinically narcissistic.

He definitely is, but again, does it matter?

“So, what do you think about my family?” he asks, making a big, dramatic show of using his turn signal before swerving right, feeling too pleased when you smile. 

He steals a glance at your knees and somehow feels guilty.

He’ll have to do something about that.

“They’re pretty... lively,” you say hesitantly, and he’s suddenly hating the dark, this stupid fucking night- he’d like to see you better.

“Lively,” he repeats, and barks out a laugh. “They’re fucking crazy.”

You laugh, too, a real one- off-kilter, and too loud- none of that artificial shit he heard at the party. Nothing meant to please.

“I was definitely thinking that,” you say. He catches you looking at his hands, but boldly, you don’t look away. “I just didn’t want to be rude.”

“Now you’re worried about being rude?”

“I’m in a car with a strange guy I’ve never met before, so yeah.”

You’re smiling but look uncomfortable, and then afraid.

All bark and no bite- you’ve been talking all this talk, when really, he realizes, you’re so washed-out, so faint, like the bare sliver of moon out in the sky, the same weak moon he’s been cursing out. The same stars, too- you are just as scattered.

You look pretty.

“Are you scared?”

He keeps his eyes on the road because he thinks you’ll snap at him if he doesn’t. Not like anyone drives out here anyway- not like he can’t pay off a ticket or two or five-

“Should I be?”

There is something so delicious about this moment, with you starting to worry- he can’t look at the road anymore, not when he can watch your throat bob as you swallow instead, and it still feels so violating, but so good. 

“Nope,” he says, and you startle when you hear him say it, and he has to bite his cheek to keep himself from smiling. “No need.”

“Great,” you say, and go quiet. 

When he pulls up to your apartment complex, not too far from where he lives, he holds his mouth in check. He could say so many things right now, but for you, he restrains himself.

You have your bag in hand, seatbelt off. From the streetlight, the planes of your face look waxy yellow.

“Thanks for the ride,” you say. 

Your hand is on the door handle, nails glittering. He can’t make out the color of the polish.

While looking at it, a sudden urge overcomes him.

And he shouldn’t, he really shouldn’t, but he wants to, so bad. It’s borderline frantic, the desire- it’s necessary and all-important and crucial, for him and his basic peace of mind, and maybe for you, too-

Who is he to deny himself?

“Wait,” he says, even though the door is open and you have half of yourself out the door. 

The cold is slowly seeping in, bone-chilling.

You wait.

“Let me just,” he says, and can’t bring himself to say anything else.

He reaches out for your waxen face with one hand and presses it firmly against your cheek.

Under his touch, you shiver. He fans out his fingers to hold you better. 

Your eyes are wide. He thinks you look a bit horrified- horrified with yourself for not resisting, maybe.

But he closes his eyes as he leans in, so it doesn’t matter.

He turns your head for you, a bit forcefully. You don’t protest.

He kisses your cheek.

When he pulls back and opens his eyes, you’re staring at him with your mouth in a perfect circle.

“Uh,” you say, and suddenly look away and out into the night, and it makes him angry, even though it should be flattering, “Merry Christmas.”

*** 

You don’t think about Ransom as much as he probably would have wanted- life picks up too fast.

In the last days of the year, Meg calls you and texts you and even goes so far as to send a few emails, but finally, you seem to have found the self-respect to not respond- consider that ridiculously wealthy bridge burned. 

In January, your brother leaves to study for a semester abroad. All the walls in your small apartment are suddenly looming, standing high over you, standing empty. You try to shove off the loneliness by studying harder, by staying distracted.

In February, you have the same dream nearly every night- you’re sitting outside on a porch in the sun and for some reason there’s a bird on your head, and in your lap there’s a clock whose hands don’t work, and you’re wearing a heavy necklace made of gold links that jingle, and you’re so happy. 

Does the bird count as company?

In early March, while you’re watering your plants, your phone rings with an unknown number. 

You shouldn’t pick up unknown numbers.

You pick up.

“Hello?”

“Remember me?” 

His voice nearly gives you whiplash.

It’s dark and harsh, faceless and yet as arrogant as ever. 

“Hi, Ransom,” you say, and think of the night in the car for the first time since, think of how he gripped your face so hard that his ring left an imprint. “How the hell do you have my number?”

“Meg gave it to me,” he says smugly. “She says hi.”

You wonder what Meg thinks you did to her. It’s obviously something bad, something terrible, if she so willingly gave your number to this pretty-faced, pretty-voiced, ugly-coat-wearing asshole-

“Awesome,” you say plainly. You don’t want to talk about her. “Do you, like, need something, or-”

“I want to take you out,” he says.

You laugh and your grip on your pitcher slips, sloshing water over the edge.

“You’re joking.”

He is, right? 

He takes an impatient breath that, for some reason, sounds inappropriate. “I’m serious.”

“Ransom,” you say, slowly, “I don’t even know you.”

“Then get to know me,” he says testily, and you can perfectly picture him, sitting in some colossal brownstone his parents bought him, while a butler daintily dabs the sweat from his brow with an embroidered handkerchief. “Tonight.”

You’ve overwatered your marigolds. 

Has his voice really swept you this far away?

“No,” you say, and shake your head, even though he can’t see it. “No fucking way.”

“Oh, come on,” he says, like you’re the one being unreasonable. “You have anything better to do?”

You don’t, but you take a deep breath and prepare yourself to lie-

“I’ll treat you good,” he suddenly says, and his voice is low and sticky-sweet, dripping with honey. “I promise.”

He says it in a way that makes your knees weak.

You physically have to sit down- he knows how to get what he wants.

Could you actually do this?

Could you go out on a date with a crude, pretentious, trust-fund piece of trash, who probably thinks you’re easy, who’s only calling you because he’s bored, who has already subtly insulted you twice in this conversation alone-

-who got your number from his cousin that you both decidedly dislike, who kissed your cheek like you were pretty in the dark of the night, in his cold car?

“Fine,” you say. “Take me out.”

***

He doesn’t tell you that you look nice- he just stares.

There is something predatory in his eyes.

You’re out on a Wednesday night with a bad man, wasting your time, trying to get something out of nothing, smiling a fake smile when he orders you a drink you don’t like, already irritated with him, and trying too hard to stop looking at his face.

How are you actually interested?

You tell him that you’re in medical school.

“Really,” he says, like he doesn’t believe you. “You don’t strike me as that kind of girl.”

Underneath the table, you clench your hands for some sense of control, but still feel like you’re spinning. “What kind of girl?”

“Smart,” he says, and picks up his drink. The glass sweats beads of condensation, wetting the tips of his fingers. “I didn’t know you were smart.”

You shouldn’t dignify his flimsy insult with a response- he’s just trying to get a rise out of you, trying to make you roll your eyes or scowl or shiver. He wants you unsettled. 

But the moral high ground is, unfortunately, too high.

“And I didn’t know that you’re such a terrible date.”

His teeth gleam white when he smiles. He knows.

He knows that he can say whatever the hell he wants, because he has money, and those eyes, and that insufferably nice rich-boy hair, and that sweater with its charmingly frayed hems, and that voice- he has everything, and then some, and he’s about to have you, too, if he keeps on looking at you like he already does.

“You’re so sweet,” he says. 

“Fuck off.”

He winks and you could cry, you’re so fucking bothered-

You’re not usually this uptight, but he has you so drastically wound up that every little thing he does, even how he’s sitting- body sprawled, manspreading- is fire licking up on your skin, scorching-hot and ruining you with no remorse, like you have done something to deserve it.

When his eyes trail down, from your eyes to your mouth to your neck to below, you are so acutely aware of wanting him that you feel guilty. Like it’s a crime.

***

You don’t seem like the type of girl to fuck on the first date. 

So, of course, Ransom tries to fuck on the first date.

As you stand outside the restaurant, in your dress and strappy sandals, you look so tense that he wants to laugh.

 He can’t help it, because this whole thing you have going on- this weariness you approach everything with, this attitude- is so funny. Maybe, in any other situation, it would be irritating, but he’s been so bored lately that it’s stirring.

“Do you want to go back to my place?” he asks, quietly, taking a step closer to you so that at this very moment, under the waning sun, you should be able to just lean up and kiss him-

You blink slowly and keep your silence.

This is fucking tedious.

This should be so easy- all he has to do is settle his hands somewhere soft and let time pass, and then before he knows it you’re there and under and begging. But he can’t bring himself to touch you just yet, not when his head is calling you pathetic, and his heart calls you-

His heart just calls you.

You start to answer, and then hesitate. All five stages of grief flicker over your face at once- denial to acceptance in the same breath. 

“Sure,” you say, unevenly, desperately-

When you step inside his house, your eyes go wide. As you take it in- the decor, the windows, the excess, he locks the door behind him and takes you in.

You step further inside, and he thinks of where it would be best, but then your eyes crease as you smile- it’s impossible to wait when your smile looks like that- and so he backs you right into the closest wall, cups your face with both of his hands and kisses you.

He kisses you and you curl your hands over his shoulders and immediately kiss back, and he is taken aback and delighted. 

And he knew- the entire time at dinner when you were making eyes at him like you couldn’t believe that you were actually sitting there, present in that moment- he knew that secretly, you’re a freak. He knew it- he knows it.

He hopes it.

“Let me fuck you,” he whispers, right into your mouth, when your heart has been beating right into his for a while, “Let me fuck you right here.”

You bite his lip.

He takes a hand away from your face and reaches under your dress fast, rucking it all the way up your thighs, trailing up to touch you-

“Fuck,” you gasp, and arch your back up against the wall, and he grips you a little tighter-

He presses a finger into you- pushing aside your underwear and, good grief, you’re already wet- harshly, and pulls away from your mouth, so he can watch your face. 

The lines creasing your forehead look like poetry.

He thinks he likes you. It’s a shame he had to meet you through Meg- it would be nice if he had met you somewhere else, on his own. 

That way, he’d be able to waltz in one day, to another insipid family gathering, with you tucked under his arm. You, with your promise of a medical degree and your strappy sandals, and your iron grip on his shoulders and your drawn out breath of a moan-

The looks on their faces would be priceless.

“I’ll take care of you,” he says, and he’s a little irritated at how cracked his voice sounds, but it’s the right thing to say- you swear again and he picks up his pace, pressing hard on your clit. “If you’ll be good to me.”

“I’ll-” you say, and you’re actually stuttering, and breaking out into a lovely sweat, still forced back into the wall with his hand and body. He leans closer, so he can’t tell where you and him and the wall start and end. “I’ll be- fuck, Ransom-”

You still have your arms wrapped around him, like an embrace. He keeps one hand between your thighs, your dress pooling over his arm like water, and uses his other to work at his belt buckle.

This is also funny- you stay exactly how you are, even though at that moment, there is nothing holding you back.

***

The world is begging for you to consider your actions.

But you don’t. You know that when he offers, you’ll meet him again.

It should be too late. You’re exhausted, from a day full of lectures and an evening spent in a lab, working as a professor’s research assistant, and then studying for a few hours in the library- all you really want to do is sleep. 

But then he calls.

The night is suddenly brimming with possibility, and you’ve never been more awake.

On a whim, Ransom suggests ice cream, and because you can’t bring yourself to deny him, you end up at a place that you would never go for- where everything is handmade and served in thick paper cups with multicolored plastic spoons, but he pays, because of his stupid ego or fragile masculinity or whatever the hell, so you don’t care.

He stands next to you as you order, and his shoulder keeps on brushing into yours. You can’t tell if it’s on purpose or not. In the glass shield that the tubs of ice cream sit behind, you’re both reflected, your body warped and tall, his body warped and taller. In the glass, his eyes meet yours.

The tension is strong- it’s only a matter of time.

Your heart flutters.

When you sit, he bumps his knees against yours- you’re sure it’s on purpose, now, but you don’t say anything. What even is there to say? 

That you like it? 

When he digs into his ice cream, the plastic spoon- a green one- snaps in his hand.

 And because you’re so caught up in your own ridiculous thoughts, before he can go back up to get another, you pull your own from your mouth- a pink one- and offer it to him.

The proposition makes him smile.

Why does he smile like that? Each movement, each twitch of muscle is so perfectly detached and coordinated- it’s violent. 

But he still takes the spoon from you gently, with a soft hand. 

He’s too pretty to be mean, you think, but against any type of judgement- not just the better kind- you wouldn’t have it any other way.

You let yourself laugh and he scowls. 

“This place sucks,” he says, like he isn’t the one who chose it.

He adjusts the womens’ scarf he’s always wearing, carefully arranging it over himself so it looks like it was carelessly thrown on. The blue in the paisley print brings out his eyes- it makes him look so stupidly hot that you start to get angry.

You just shrug. “Suck it up, buttercup.”

He puts your spoon in his mouth and looks at you.

Again, the night ends at his place- this time on an actual bed, because you ask for it, and you think he likes how you look when you ask for things in the current state state you’re in-

He fucks you in the dark, and swears into your ear, and is not kind or soft in any way, but after he finishes, he takes the time to kiss the spot in between your breasts, and you think that maybe he isn’t entirely horrible. The bedsheets are cool against your skin, and his mouth is always hot.

You leave without a word.

***

He takes you out this time, in a real, urgent show of wealth- he picks you up in his fancy car, takes you to a fancy restaurant where the numbers next to the fancy menu items are all appalling, where he spends the whole time making these awful, unfunny innuendos that still manage to rile you up, because they’re coming from his mouth-

On the way back, while waiting at a stoplight, you take a deep breath and brace yourself before looking at him.

He really is gorgeous- all lazy grace and harsh angles. The light colors his face red, red in his eyes and in the plane of his cheekbone and in the slope of his mouth- like a beautiful warning sign. His hands are carelessly draped over the steering wheel and, despite the warning, you reach out and trace a finger over his knuckles. 

His whole body jerks.

You quickly draw your hand back.

“What?” he asks sharply. He’s staring at you like you’re crazy.

You don’t know why this is suddenly so fucking embarrassing, all you did was touch him- but you suddenly feel terrible, and-

“Nothing,” you say, with the same tone, and whip your head away from him to the window, where you smolder in the dark and furiously stare at nothing.

The light turns green. He takes his foot off the break and all but slams it on the gas pedal, driving as atrociously as ever, looking over at you for a split second when you don’t protest. The blood rushing in your ears is too loud for you to think- you can’t form any words.

Once it subsides, marginally, you add, “Sorry.”

His jaw tenses.

You look back over at him, at his ring, and imagine it pressing into your neck.

“What’s the craziest thing you’ve ever done?” he suddenly asks- suddenly demands, with a blazing authority that makes your stomach do flips.

You don’t know what answer he wants. “Um, one time I snuck out of-“

“Let’s do something crazier.”

On an abandoned road, he pulls over, and then you’re under him in the backseat- doing something crazier. 

You might have some type of psychic tendencies, because his ring presses heavy into your neck as he pushes himself inside you, starting at a bruising pace, and then he says your name in the dark, and he looks so beautifully flushed, startling when you grab his hair, laughing when your hand accidentally skims his thigh, smiling when you come-

You wish you had the resolve to put an end to this.

You wish you could stay when it’s over.

***

You don’t like his house.

It’s not the brownstone you imagined, but rather a huge, minimalistic box, with too many windows and spotless paint and modern wood fixtures. Ransom has all of these customary rich-person things, including stately furniture and eclectic art pieces and tall shelves stuffed with books, but owning any actual personality has escaped him.

Standing in his house feels like standing in an empty room- it’s all so apathetic.

Still, you show up when he calls.

You haven’t done anything this bad before. 

But there’s a first time for everything, right? First time for enjoying bruises and biting and an unwavering grip on your neck or hips or waist or thighs, first time leaving something so intense so awkwardly.

Each time is worse than the last, with the awkwardness spiraling, accruing beyond reason, and each time you struggle with what to say- even now, you just do your best to stay quiet as you start to get up, reaching for your clothes-

Ransom drapes a heavy arm over you before you have the chance.

“You can stay,” he says flippantly, and then shifts to pull you close to him, so that you are suddenly lying bare-backed against his chest, so that his sweat-slick body and heartbeat imprints itself on your skin.

Is he asking?

You crane your head over your shoulder to get a look at him.

He returns your stare like he’s been waiting for it. 

His face is still flushed pink and a lock of hair hangs low over his forehead, and if you were any braver, you would comb a hand through it, gently, with no real intentions. He’s breathtaking. Even the new, foreign purple under his eyes is a sight- pretty like something you would want to kiss.

“You want me to stay?”

He rolls his eyes and tilts his head back. You would lick the sweat from the divots of his neck, if he asked you to.

“Or leave, if you want. I could care less.”

He cares

You know it because his grip is unwavering, because the terseness in his eyes is enough to make you look away.

Eventually, you settle a hand over his arm and try your best not to tremble. Ransom mumbles something under your breath- you can’t make any of it out, but you don’t ask him to repeat it, for the fear that it’ll upset this fragile bedroom balance you’ve so painstakingly built yourself into-

He wants you to stay. 

“Are you okay?” you ask, because you don’t think he is.

He inhales. You feel his chest against you; it’s shaky. You wonder, for a second, about who he might actually be, underneath the arrogance and egotism and constant need to be an asshole- is he someone you could like without feeling bad about it?

“Yeah,” he says, and throws his other arm over you, so that he is holding you. “Why?”

There isn’t a genuine bone in this man’s body, but he genuinely sounds confused.

It’s possible that you’re the one who isn’t okay.

“Because,” you say, and take a great leap of faith- holding your bare heart in your hands, you turn to face him.

You’re fully exposed and subjected to his gaze- it’s nearly eviscerating. His eyes dip down to your chest and something like insecurity flares in your chest. It’s awful and terrible and you urgently want to kiss him on the lips.

He always kisses you first. You don’t know if you have it in you to kiss him yet. 

You wouldn’t ever try, in case you don’t.

“You look kind of tired,” you say, and his eyes bore into you with a sinking weight, threatening to drown. One of his hands finds a blooming bruise on your skin and lightly presses. He doesn’t react when you wince. The action is still kind- almost tender.

He sighs, and it is such a delicate breath, fanning hot over your skin. 

“I’m not tired,” he says, almost childishly.

You might be overstepping. But you don’t even know where the lines have been drawn. 

“Okay,” you say, and because you would not dare kiss his lips, you lean close and kiss his jaw instead.

He startles and then gives you a crooked, lazy smile. He is everything good, you think- for this one moment. Pretty and soft-handed and made of glass and honey and all other lovely things.

You tuck your head in the crook of his neck and wrap an arm over his, tight, so he knows you are there, and hope for the best.

***

In your spare moments, you’re always thinking.

Ransom knows this because of how you look when you do it- your brow furrows and your eyes go glassy, and you frown with an intensity that he has never seen on anyone else.

It happens when you finish a sentence, when you have no response for him, when he is still talking but you’ve stopped listening. When you think it’s quiet.

It never happens during sex- is it pathetic to take pride in that?

As he stands in your apartment for the first time ever, you look like you’re in near-despair, like your thoughts are wreaking havoc on your mind, destructive and distressing. You wear basketball shorts and a college sweatshirt and glasses.

He didn’t know you wore glasses, and that you looked like this in them- he’s been missing out.

“Hi,” you say, and stare at him with troubled eyes.

Your apartment is so small. He almost feels claustrophobic, standing in here. When was the last time he willingly stood somewhere so small?

The lengths he’ll go to, for… 

For you, he supposes.

“Hi,” he says, and wonders, also for the first time ever, what it is that you’re always thinking. “Why do you have so many plants?”

On the windowsill, with even spacing in between, sits an entire row of glass jars housing plants- all singular flower stems, some budding, some in bloom. The petals of a marigold brush against the window, orange against the grey outside. It’s cute, he absently thinks, in a struggling, shabby type of way.

“It’s just something I do for fun,” you say, sounding irritated. “Like, a hobby.” 

Infringing on the living room space is a small table, cluttered with textbooks and pens and an open laptop with its screen dark.

It still baffles him that you’re smart.

“So,” you start, and cross your arms over your chest. He feels kind of offended, because he’s just realized that he really only knows a handful of things about you, and even that handful is sparse, slipping through his fingers. “Why’d you want to see me?”

He called on impulse. 

He’s just- he’s in what someone could call a mood, where he hates everything and has the intense desire to ruin something, and while he was thinking of how to fix it- beyond just getting wasted- he thought of you.

And when he called, you were sounding so tired and so he even said he could just meet you here, so you wouldn’t have to drive, so you could squeeze in a few more minutes of studying before he inevitably invades your mind-

Easily, he deflects. Nearby, there’s a hallway with two doors, one of which is tightly closed shut.

“What’s in there?” he asks, and points towards it.

You relax, slightly.

He wants to gather you up in his arms, but he doesn’t know for whose sake- his or yours?

“That’s my brother’s room,” you say, and your shoulders slump, and he resists the urge to pull you upright, and the urge to gawk. Brother? “He lives with me. But he’s studying abroad this semester.”

“Where?”

“Prague.”

He nods. This is a stiff, perfect, shocking distraction. “Nice city.”

You nod distantly and head back to the table to put your things away.

“Yeah,” you say, after too long of a pause, as you start to cap pens and set them aside. You look at him as you do it, and so you miss a few times, accidentally drawing dark lines of ink all over your fingers. “I’m glad he got to go. When we were kids, he was obsessed with wanting to travel- he had this entire map in our room, and he would draw stars over every country he wanted to visit, and there were, like, a hundred of them, and he could list every single one, in the exact order he wanted to visit, and he could even list the capitals- I’m sorry. You probably don’t care about any of this.”

He doesn’t.

Or, he shouldn’t, but your eyes are clearer, and as you neatly stack your textbooks in an order only known to you, he is almost intrigued.

He’s longing for you- when you are right there.

He feels like a person outside of himself, when you look at him and smile tiredly.

“Do you want to watch a movie?”

There’s a cheesy ‘90s horror movie you find after a few minutes of channel surfing, complete with terrible special effects and edited-out profanity. The days are longer, now, and to stop the sun from casting a glare over the screen, you close all the blinds. It adds to the atmosphere, you say lightly, fully phased out of whatever just possessed you, and his hands are so itchy- itching to do something.

He sits. Patience is a virtue, but he is not virtuous, and so when you sit next to him and bring your knees to your chest, making yourself small, he goes to-

Something in his stomach stops him. 

It’s butterflies- is he actually nervous?

This is so fucking infuriating.

You’ve got him trapped in some type of pain-and-power-play, some type of unassuming purgatory, and all he can bring himself to do is lightly brush a hand against your shoulder. You smile at his touch and his heart fucking breaks.

As the second boy in the friend group gets murdered onscreen, you close your eyes and duck your head into your knees.

“Tell me when it’s over,” you say, voice muffled.

“Scaredy-cat,” he says, even though this is no time for jokes. 

You crack one eye open, looking only at him, and give him the finger.

Come here, he almost demands. The butterflies protest- he holds his tongue.

The dance continues. When the sun sets, everything darkens, settling into a dim blue. You look like something out of a painting. Faintly sad, unusually serene. The skin around your eyes has smoothened- you’ve stopped thinking so hard and he can suddenly breathe easier because of it-

And then there’s a jumpscare, and he shouts, “Jesus!”

The murderer has broken down a door, and all of the remaining characters are screaming, and you burst out laughing.

He’s in the middle of a crisis, and you’re laughing.

You lean into him as you laugh, with your head turned away from the screen and your eyes open, looking at him so fondly that he suddenly feels violated, and you let your shoulder brush against his.

“Scaredy-cat” you tease, and it’s absolutely now or never-

You’re making him weak- it takes too much time and effort for him to draw an arm over you.

You don’t flinch, but he is sure that you can hear his heart beating dangerously fast, without abandon, like it's trying to break free of his ribcage. He almost gasps when you come even closer and lightly kiss his cheek, wrapping your arms around him, and his head is just saying yes yes yes-

Your mouth goes over his ear, lips ghosting over skin. He waits, more scared than he’s ever been in his entire life, for what you have to say. 

***

So this is Ransom’s deep, dark, ugly secret.

He likes to be cuddled.

If it were anyone else, you would laugh.

But it’s Ransom, and so you just take it in stride, as part of his extremely fucked-up psyche that is probably a result of a hundred things he’ll never tell you- childhood trauma and neglect and the consequences that come with having more money than you need or deserve.

He’s always talking, always talking shit, always talking over you and over everyone else, and you realize, one day, that he really only is treading water- he’s only focused on staying afloat, speaking whatever he wants, but never actually saying anything.

He’s responsible for his faults, of course. But still, when he smiles in low light or curls his hands over yours so viciously, you don’t know if you should leave, or if you should just stay and pity him quietly.

You’re starting to like him too much to even care.

He starts coming around more. And he actually stays, and starts leaving pieces of himself behind. He has a toothbrush next to yours and a phone charger on his side of the bed and imported, undoubtedly expensive snacks in the kitchen.

He leaves clothes, too- you wash them with yours and keep them, neatly folded, in your closet.

On a warm day in May, he meets you at a cafe.

He does most of the talking, like always. It’s been months, already, but you still find it difficult to start conversations.

You still have trouble telling him certain things without feeling like you have to defend yourself, and he still rarely deviates from being a total dick, even when you hold him or have his head in your lap, when you make him laugh or when you kiss him.

Or when you put your hands in the sleeves of his sweaters and rub your palms against his forearms, because he’s always running warm and your hands are always cold. 

He always acts like it annoys him, jumps when your hands meet his skin- but you know he secretly likes it, because whenever you’re done he pulls the hems all the way over his hands and looks at you with something amazed in his eyes.

With the weather warming up, he’s ditched the sweaters and taken to wearing these awful fucking short-sleeved button-downs, all unnecessarily tight and showing way too much collarbone. He’s making you sweat.

“You’re staring,” he says, and smiles, self-satisfied.

You bring your straw to your lips and shake your head. “I’m not.”

He knows that you can’t help it- he is always so gorgeous. He’s infuriatingly pretty.

“Don’t lie to me,” he says, and nudges your foot under the table, voice suddenly low, and it’s like, holy shit-

You bring your drink down and lean over the table, careful to avoid knocking anything over, and kiss him quickly.

He tastes like bitter coffee.

You’re sad, all of a sudden.

When you settle back in your seat, you clear your throat like nothing happened. You want to lean in again and button up the rest of his shirt, and kiss him again. You want to come so close that your noses touch, and then yell at him, just for being him.

He looks appalled

“What was that for?”

It’s the first time you’ve ever done this.

“No reason,” you say. “I just felt like it.”

“You just felt like it,” he repeats, and it’s like the same reaction from the night at the stoplight, and you realize-

He’s dumbstruck.

Then, just as quickly as it came, it disappears. He sets his jaw like he’s about to get up and leave. You try not to scowl, even though you feel like you’re drifting, tide carrying you away, sand clean and smooth on where your body once was-

It gets to you.

“Can I not just kiss you?” you snap harshly, glaring at him with a ferocity you don’t think he’s ever seen.

It’s inevitable- the result of months of frustration. You can only suppress yourself for so long. Why, you want to ask, why are you not entitled to him the way he is to you and everything else? Can you not ask for him so wholly?

He flinches.

Ransom Drysdale, asshole extraordinaire, flinches.

It brings a small sliver of satisfaction with it. There’s some nerve you’ve struck, and the discontent on his face is steadily growing- 

You pay it no mind, drinking the rest of your iced coffee in calm silence. 

Outside, the day is vaguely summery, where the sun is out and strong, but still too cold in the shade. You stare past his head, towards the door. How quickly can you leave?

“You can,” he says quietly, when you’re rising to throw your cup in the trash. “Whenever you want.”

His eyelashes are so long- they command a moment of attention all on their own when he blinks- soft and slow and gazing at you from underneath them. You wonder if he is doing this for the same reason you are. If he’s lonely, too.

When was the last time you had the dream with the bird?

You smirk. “Whenever?”

He is forlorn. 

You like him better in the spring.

“Whenever.”

“Let’s get out of here,” you say, and make your voice low, since two can play at that game.

He considerably perks up. 

*** 

When you wake up, he’s still in your bed.

Lately, he’s been spending more time at your place than his. You think that all those windows are finally starting to get to him.

Ransom always holds you fiercely in his sleep. You break free as gently as you can and take him in for a brief moment- you like how he looks when he’s asleep. Unconcerned, chest rising slow with each breath, hair splayed over the pillow in nearly every direction. He almost looks innocent.

You get up quietly, even though there’s no chance he’ll stir- he sleeps like the dead.

Daylight filters through the blinds in white-yellow streams, dappling him golden. 

You almost take a picture, but regretfully leave the room for other tasks- you stretch and water your plants and check your email, and then sit down at the table to Skype your brother.

He picks up fast.

“Hey!” you say, and at once feel so much relief, to see his grainy, smiling face on your laptop screen.

Europe has done him good- he’s grown out his hair, and his skin is glowing, and he looks so happy.

He tells you about what he’s been doing lately, studying architecture. It makes you so proud, this fact alone- that unlike you, he can do whatever he wants and doesn’t have the looming promises of debt and academic burnout and crushing, ever-present stress hovering over his shoulders. It is so good to see him, and you are so grateful that he can be who he wants to be, do what he wants to do-

“Holy shit, who is that?”

He’s looking past you. You turn around and almost jump- 

Ransom stands in the kitchen, shirtless and rummaging through the cupboards. He waves at you.

You would think that someone like Ransom would exclusively sleep in, like, silk pajama sets, or something, but at least he’s in sweatpants- however low-rise they might be, however loosely knotted the drawstring is. It’s better than nothing, at least- what if he had walked out in nothing?

When you turn back to the screen, you catch a glimpse of yourself in your camera feed- you look absolutely mortified.

You are absolutely mortified. This is the start of what can only be a nightmare.

“Are you dating that guy?” your brother asks incredulously. He’s still staring at Ransom with his jaw hanging loose. “Is he your boyfriend?”

“No,” you say forcefully, without thinking. “That’s, um... “

Hopelessly, you gesture back towards him, trying to come up with the words. Nothing feels right in your mouth- every title you can come up with is too consequential, too heavy.

“...That’s Ransom.”

“Weird name,” your brother says, and grins.

You take a breath that feels more like a gasp. “I know.”

“Hey,” Ransom says, from the back, and continues to loudly open and close the cupboards- what the fuck is he even looking for? You don’t keep enough shit in there to warrant this much noise- he’s doing this for theatrics.

“I think I’m going to go,” you say loudly. “Love you.”

“Bye,” your brother says, and he’s grinning stupidly, like a madman.

You disconnect and feel like you might faint.

Not your boyfriend, right?

“Was that your brother?” Ransom asks, casually, finally finding what he was looking for- two mugs. There is no way that he didn’t come across them earlier. 

“Yeah- yes,” you say shakily. It feels like someone has filled your brain with fizzy water.

There’s a few boys your brother has met over the years, but you’ve always been careful. Because an introduction is like making a statement- it’s like saying that this person you’re with is important enough to you that they’re going to overlap, exist in more than just one part of your life.

But Ransom is a catastrophe of a person- you can barely handle him as he is. How could you ever have him as anything more?

He goes through the cupboards, again, and finds a box of teabags. “The one studying abroad?”

“I only have one brother,” you snap.

“Okay,” he says, totally unbothered, surprising you. He’s not a morning person in the slightest- why is he being so cordial? “Where do you keep your kettle?”

“Second cupboard on the right,” you say, and bury your head in your hands.

He looks at you. He is so many things, but never kind, until now. His hair, in its adorable bedhead, flops over his eyes. Before, it was only almost, but now, you think, he looks completely innocent, like the type of guy you could give kisses without feeling nervous, the type of guy you wouldn’t deny as your boyfriend.

What is wrong with him?

What is wrong with you?

At the end of the day, he’s always there- you’re exclusive, aren’t you? Isn’t that enough to deserve a title?

He finds the kettle, and then sifts through the box. He sorts through different flavors with a gentle precision you’ve never seen before- is this really him? Is he the type of person that is gentle and precise?

The uneven smattering of blue-black bruises on your thighs say no.

You’re so confused that your head hurts.

“None of these flavors are any good,” Ransom says, and shakes his head. His hair shines in the morning light. “Earl Grey- who the hell drinks Earl Grey?”

“Don’t insult my tea like that,” you say, and he looks back at you and gives you a brilliant flash of a smile.

If he’s bothered at all by your denial, he never brings it up.

*** He’s too far gone.

He’s in freefall, feeling weak- he’s fucking succumbed.

To you. To your comebacks and the world-weary gaze you have of everything, to your nonsensical collection of plants and your painfully unattractive basketball shorts, to the way you laugh too loud and too little, to the way you say his name, where he can never tell if you’re happy with him or exasperated-

It’s wrong. 

But, he thinks, so are all of these other things, like drugs and alcohol and blowing money on shit he doesn’t need- and you make him feel better than any of those things ever have, so why should anybody have a problem with it? A week goes by after you tell your brother that he isn’t your boyfriend- and it doesn’t bother him, because he’s never wanted that title in the first place, never has- but it obviously bothers you. 

You’re disappointed in yourself, because you think you’re supposed to be better than him, because you’re so smart and he is so terrible.

He hopes that that’s not how you actually think. It hurts him to0 much to even consider it, and so he doesn’t, and so he thinks of how to keep his hold on you, and then he thinks of why he even wants to-

The truth is too apparent to deny.

After a week, he calls.

***

He’s very slow.

Not tired- just consumed with the sudden need to savor things. When you let yourself into his arms, Ransom treats you like you’re fragile.

“What’s up with you?” you ask, and as he stares, your voice reduces to something small. You go timid when his eyes are on yours, he realizes, and the thought sends a thrill through his body- he slowly rocks you, to calm himself.

Your shirt is off and you wear a bra with a small lace trim- not racy, but very cute- and he just keeps on staring.  

Wow, he thinks. He fucked up good.

“Nothing,” he says, and moves one hand from your waist- he has you in his lap, straddling him- up to the top of your neck. He trails down and over to your collarbone, hooking a finger into your bra strap.

You laugh, breathy and indecent.

He lifts it, subtly, and you whine, and he bites back his own.

“You’re so pretty,” he says, and kisses your neck. “So fucking beautiful.”

“Ransom,” you gasp, with your hands splayed over his back. He slowly skims his hand over, to your back, feeling every little thing, dip and contour and curve, everything- and then unhooks it, and you are bared to him and he is breathless.

He takes you by the shoulders and twists, to bring you down, to pin you against the bed. Your comforter is dark blue, like ocean water.

Your eyes are endless, like ocean water.

“Are you upset about something?” 

Your chest rises and falls and he almost reaches for the waistband of your underwear, but stops himself. He presses a wet kiss to one of your breasts, and you arch into his mouth. He feels like you know every single secret of his, when he has told you none.

You know by accident that he’s ticklish. That’s it.

“I’m not,” he says. “I promise.”

He bends low to kiss down the length of your body, repositions his hands to hold your waist. He thinks that this is more intense- it is just his mouth and your skin and the sound of your breath hitching.

He still has it put together, remarkably well- unfathomably well.

“I feel like there’s something you’re- ah- not telling me, honey.”

That does it.

He grips your waist harder, in the way he knows you always like, so that tomorrow he will be able to retrace his steps, follow the blue-

“Say that again,” he says, and presses a soft kiss over you- even through your underwear, with its delicate lace trim, he can feel how wet and wanting and ready you are for him.

“Say- fuck- say what?”

Your hand flails, for a second, before you thread it through his hair, and yank. It hurts, pleasantly.

He hooks his fingers into your waistband and shimmies it down your thighs, and you instinctively spread your legs. He puts his mouth to your slit, slicker than he imagined, and the heady arousal rushing through his mind- and everywhere else- is nearly enough to make him forget what you even said-

He is quite possibly drunk off of you alone, and he wants to slap himself, and, like, press you so close into him that you forget your way out.

With the spare glow of one lamp, you look like you’re made of gold.

He breaks away from you for a terrible moment to strip, and with one hand he teases your clit, and with the other he pumps himself, hard, once, twice, three times in anticipation-

“Don’t make me ask again,” he says, and comes back up to cup your face once more, and slips his hand back down into you at the same time, with his cock hard against your thigh- this is all quite slippery- the game you’re playing at and the risk he’s trying to take-

“Honey,” you say, and you’re smiling deliriously, but shakily. “Honey honey honey.”

“You’re killing me,” he says, and his voice, in a moment of terrible, vulnerable, unspeakable betrayal, cracks. 

“Good,” you say, but your voice is all wobbly as he lines himself up and roughly pushes into you, holding you a little tighter to keep you steady. “You deserve it.”

He kisses you openmouthed, with his teeth scraping- it’s rough and jarring, the way you always take it. Against his mouth, you swear incoherently, stringing together a litany of curses with his name thrown in between, and goddamn him- it makes him smile.

He wastes no time- he can’t be patient any longer, not when he has you under him like this, and so he goes fast, snapping into you at a bruising pace and keeping his mouth close, and rubbing at your clit, to overstimulate you and make everything faster, harsher, more immediate-

When you come you always say his name, thickly with gravel in your voice, and gasp like the breath has been stolen from your lungs. This time, when you are so far gone that he thinks you’re beyond the realms of sound, and sight, too, with your eyes tightly screwed shut, he says it, for the sake of himself.

“I think I love you-”

#the amout of times i use the word fucking #as an adverb #in this fic #is unneccesary #but theres nothing i can do about it now! #i hate ransom drysdale #the entire time i wrote this #my head was singing that lil tecca song #i got black i got white #what u want #stream ransom for good vibes! #the title really has nothing to do with the fic #i just liked the vibe of it #ok back to normal tags #ransom drysdale #ransom x you #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale imagine #ransom drysdale x y/n #fem!reader #ransom thrombey x reader #hugh ransom drysdale #ransom thrombey imagine #reader insert #ransom drysdale x you #knives out #chris evans #chris evans x reader #reader imagine #ransom thrombey x y/n

[waitimcomingtoo]

I know requests are closed but I’m obsessed with this Olympic ice dancing duo, they’ve been skating for 20 years since they were 7 and 9 and the guy is always saying she’s his favourite person and how beautiful she is and their chemistry is so intense and their body language just says they’re in love but it was announced that he is engaged to another woman and I’m sad and waiting for them to realise they’re in love! I was wondering if you could write something along these lines with Tom? Ily 💙

I love this idea. I pulled inspiration from Scott Moir and Tessa Virtue interviews and from Little Women.

One Man Cult

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Synopsis: You and Tom are inseparable ice skating duo who aren’t as inseparable as you thought

Masterlist

“This unrequited love, to me it’s nothing but a one man cult.” - Frank Ocean

Tom had been your ice skating partner for 20 years now. You’d come a long way from the frozen pond behind your house to an Olympic ice skating rink. The way you two skated was pure art. You moved impossibly in synch as you floated over the ice together, winning competition after competition together. Tom had never once dropped you or let you down due to your powerful connection to each other. He was always there to lift you, dip you, spin you, and you carry you around the ice as you danced to the music. Your undeniable chemistry and endearing friendship made you and Tom the most popular team in the Olympics on social media, but it was your powerful skating that made you the most decorated skaters in history. 

After every competition, with the medals you wore around your neck clanging together, Tom always picked you up bridal style to carry you off the ice. He’d been doing it since he was nine and he’d do it until the last day he ever skated. You were always met with a rush of cameras and microphones from journalists who wanted to know just as much about your relationship as they did your performance.

Your most notable interview was when you appeared on Ellen together after winning gold medals in the Olympics. Your fans campaigned for you to be on the show and Ellen happily complied. Despite the large couch, you and Tom sat practically on top of each other. He had one arm secure around your waist and the other resting on your knee. In return, you had both hands on top of his, giving them a gentle squeeze whenever you felt butterflies in your tummy. 

“Y/n, Tom, how did you two meet?” Ellen began the interview.

“We met when I was 7 and he was 9 because we were neighbors. We formed this unbreakable connection and we’ve been best friends since then.” You answered, looking at Tom for most of your speech. “I honestly don’t even remember my life before him. We started skating on the pond outside our houses and realized we both had a love as well as a talent for it.”

“Wow. That’s 20 years now.” Ellen nodded in admiration. “You guys must be very close.”

“Oh, definitely. I know everything about him and he knows everything about me. I can’t imagine not being with him everyday. We’re a family.” You smiled as Tom squeezed your hip, feeling the nerves melt away at his touch.

“Yeah, we’re very very close. I live for Y/n.” Tom chimed in and the audience melted.

“And there was never a romance? No feelings for the other?” Ellen asked skeptically.

“Uh-“ Tom scratched his neck, looking at you.

“Nope. Just a really close friendship.” You nodded.

“Does Tom know that?” Ellen teased and both your faces flushed as the audience laughed.

“I ask because you guys clearly have a lot a chemistry together as we see on the ice but your fans see a little more than just chemistry. They see a romance between the two of you.” Ellen said as a picture of you and Tom flashed on the screen. It was a photo of your last performance, and you were sitting on his knee with your hands pressing his forehead against yours. He had one hand around you waist and the other gripping your thigh. The audience laughed and ooo’d at the picture and you hid your face in Toms neck for a moment.

“Oh shoot. Maybe we are a couple.” You joked and felt Tom laugh beside you.

“Did you know we were a couple? That’s crazy. I had no idea.” Tom teased back. You laughed at his joke and he smiled at your laughter, throwing an arm around your shoulders and kissing your temple.

“So you are a couple?” Ellen asked as a different picture came on screen, a close up this time. You had both hands on Toms face and he had his firmly on your back with your legs wrapped around his waist, lips almost touching. The audience laughed again and Ellen’s point was made.

“No. We’re not. We’re just a really great team.” Tom confirmed as he looked at you. “Y/n is my favorite person in the world. There is no one I admire or love more. I mean, I’ve loved this girl since I was 9. We have such a deep love for each other and an unbreakable connection that I know I could never find anywhere else. She’s my soulmate, really. I’m so lucky I get to spend 23 hours a day with her.”

“What’s the other hour?” Ellen asked.

“Icing wounds and bathroom breaks.” You and Tom said in unison, earning a chuckle from Ellen and the audience.

“We really do take it as a compliment though. If that many people see us performing and think we’re a couple in love, then I think we’re doing something right.” Tom continued. “I think all the romance rumors speak to our chemistry and ability to portray a romance as we skate together.”

“Exactly. And we really do love each other.” You said as a third picture came up, you and Tom hugging tightly after a performance. You and your arms secure around his neck and he was lifting you off the ground. “We’ve spent the last 20 years building this partnership and it’s so rewarding to see where it’s taken us. I’m just really lucky I could go on this journey with Tom at my side. My favorite moments are always after the performance, when the crowd is cheering and the music stopped and it feels like there’s no one in the world but me and Tom.” You said as you gazed into Toms eyes. He couldn’t resist kissing your forehead, in no way helping the conversation.

“So you are a couple?” Ellen repeated and the audience chuckled again.

That’s how interviews often went, but some reporters wanted a different story.

“Where’s your other half?” A reporter asked when Tom came off the ice rink alone. He was met with a dozen more reporters and took a seat on a foldable chair to answer the questions.

“I know!” He laughed. “She’s getting changed. It feels so weird to be interviewed without her. Don’t worry though, she’ll be here shortly.”

“While we have you, we do have some questions.” Another reporter spoke up.

“Go for it.” Tom smiled.

“What makes Y/n a good partner?” They asked.

“Y/n is honestly just a perfect person. I love everything about her. She’s my best friend in the entire world. She’s so beautiful and so so dedicated to our work. I couldn’t have asked for a better partner.” Tom said sincerely into a camera.

“You never considered trying you luck as a solo act?” A different reporter tried to instigate drama and Tom quickly shut him down.

“I couldn’t go solo because I myself am not a solo act. Y/n is my other half on and off of the ice. I couldn’t imagine my life without her.” Tom replied suavely.

“Hi! Am I interrupting?” You asked as you walked over to Tom. He smiled happily as the sight of you and reached out a hand to guide you over to where he was.

“Here, we can pull up a chair for you.” A reporter offered but you politely held up a hand.

“That’s okay.” You shook your head as you sat comfortably on Toms lap. He wrapped his arms around your waist and rested his chin on your shoulder.

“We were just asking Tom if either of you ever considered going solo?” You were asked.

“Oh, never.” You laughed. “I don’t exist if I’m not with Tom. We’re connected. I could never not be with him.” You turned over your shoulder to look at him and he smiled at you before pressing a kiss to your cheek.

“You two seem very close. Y/n, you wouldn’t date him?” A reporter asked and you laughed in surprise.

“Maybe.” You shrugged to appease them.

“Wow. I’ve known her for 20 years and we’ve been getting interviewed for maybe 10 now and that’s the first time I’ve gotten a “maybe”. Must be my lucky day.” Tom joked and squeezed you tightly. His answer seemed to satisfy the reporters and they left you alone.

A rough patch of ice and a broken ankle sent you to the hospital for a week and benched from the ice for two months. Unfortunately, the injury came in June, right as Tom was scheduled to return home for a holiday with his family. It killed him to leave you alone, but he knew with his busy schedule he’d never be able to reschedule.

“Go. Your family is counting on you.” You promised him from your hospital bed. He shook his head at you.

“You’re my family.” He insisted.

“I’ll be fine. Go. Be with them.” You told him, but he still looked unsure.”

“I’ll miss you. Can’t you come with me?” He whined. You laughed at his childish behavior.

“The doctor said I can’t fly with my cast.” You reminded him as you looked down at your bright pink cast. It had one signature, Toms name is a big heart. “It’ll be okay. We’re not attached at the hip. We can handle a few weeks apart.” You assured him.

“I don’t know if I can.” Tom laughed sadly and took your hand.

“You’ll survive.” You touched his cheek and he leaned into your palm.

“Without you? Impossible.” He smirked and pressed a kiss to your palm.

The three week vacation was extended by four weeks when Toms grandmother fell ill. Still not able to fly with your cast, you had to result to FaceTiming at 4 am just to get a hold of him. Being without Tom was strange enough, but he was acting stranger. His brothers told you he went out most nights and came back at odd times. His mom told you he wasn’t looking well, but brushed it off as a minor cold.

“I’m sure he’s just used to you keeping him in check, making sure he’s hydrated and getting enough sleep and all that. He’s probably just overwhelmed and being without you is making it harder. I wouldn’t worry too much.” His mother assured you but you still worried. It’s been 7 weeks since you’d seen him and you hated every second of it.

The day your cast was taken off, you got on the first flight to the UK. You didn’t get to Toms house until late, but Harry told you he was home. You climbed into his first story window and he jumped in surprise when he saw you

“Y/n?” Tom asked in shock at the sight of you.

“Hi Tommy.” You kept your voice low so you wouldn’t disturb his family as you jumped into his arms.

“What are you doing here? I thought you couldn’t fly?” He asked as he held you tightly, taking in your scent once again.

“Doctor cleared me this morning.” You held up you healed foot with a proud smile.

“I didn’t know you’d gotten your cast taken off.” Tom said, a little disappointed he wasn’t aware of all the details of your life anymore.

“Well, it’s been pretty hard to get a hold of you lately.” You said a little sadly. “God, what’s it been, like two months? I’ve missed you so much. Sit, tell me everything.” You guided him to his bed and sat down with him.

“My grandmothers doing a lot better. They’re gonna release her from the hospital soon.” Tom said and you noticed he was beginning to sweat.

“That’s great Tom. I’m so happy to hear that.” You ignored his stiffness and rubbed his shoulder.

“Thanks.” He sighed and brushed a strand of hair away from your face, looking incredibly torn with himself. “Y/n-“

“I’m really happy to see you, Tommy.” You interrupted him. “I know I was the one saying we could stand being apart for a few weeks, but I honestly couldn’t last another day of this. I never realized how much I wanted to see you everyday. You’re a huge part of my life and it’s been so weird not seeing y-“

“I’m engaged.” He blurted, cutting you off. You blinked in surprise at his sudden announcement.

“What?” You laughed shortly, trying to read his face but the room was too dark.

“I met her over the summer when I came home and she fell in love with me. She asked if I wanted to get married and I said yes.” Tom continued in the same flat, emotionless tone. “She’s going to be my wife.”

“What?” You repeated, still not believing him.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, but my mind is made up.” Tom continued as if he wasn’t telling you the most outrageous thing you’d ever heard. He stood up, unable to look at you for a moment.

“I’m sorry, can we go back a second?” You got up as well and walked to him. “You’ve known her what, two months? Three?”

“One. We met in July.” Tom said quietly and you scoffed.

“You can’t possibly be serious.” You said gravely. Tom wiped his nose on his sleeve and nodded.

“I am.” He told you, a sad gleam in his eyes. “She wants to be married by Christmas.”

“Well what do you want?” You asked, looking for a different answer then what you were getting.

“Whatever she wants is fine by me.” He said robotically and you felt nauseous.

“I’ve never even met her.” You pointed out. More importantly, she’d never met you. You exactly a minor note in Toms symphony. You guys lived as a duet and now he was trying to rewrite the chorus without asking you first.

“You will. I’m going to introduce to her everyone. My family, my friends, you. You’ll get to know her.” Tom said as if he was trying to convince himself more than you.

“Oh so your family hasn’t met her either?” You laughed bitterly. “Do they even know she exists?”

“I’ll tell them.” He said, and you knew he was ashamed.

“Tom, what?” You asked gently, going easier on him now that you know he was upset. “Your family doesn’t even know? What’s going on? This isn’t like you.” You tilted his chin towards you and made him look at you. As soon as his eyes met yours, they filled with tears.

“What, just because I’ve never had a girlfriend before means I can’t have one now?” He asked with a defeated shrug.

“You have had girlfriends before.” You reminded him and he shook his head.

“Have I?” He laughed sadly. “I’ve tried, but I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t date anyone else knowing that they’d never…”

“Never what?” You stroked his cheek lightly, pleading with him for an answer to his madness. “Tom.” You urged when he hesitated to answer.

“Never compare to you.” He gripped your wrist as teared ran down his cheeks. You looked at him in confusion and tried to search his face again. He was making less and less sense.

“What are you talking about?” You whispered and Toms lip trembled.

“If you’re gonna stand in front of me right now and pretend there hasn’t been something between us for the last 20 years then you might as well just leave now.” Tom said through gritted teeth. You felt the wind knocked out of you and took a step back, withdrawing your hands and holding yourself tightly.

“Thomas…” You breathed.

“I can’t find another my heart will beat for. I can’t do it.” Tom cried in pain. “I have loved you since I was nine years old and it’s killing me. I can’t move on. I can’t think, I can’t eat, I can’t sleep. This unrequited love is destroying me.” He sobbed. “And I swear to you, I will never love anyone more and nothing has to change between us as partners but…” ,his lip trembled as he hesitated, “but I’m lonely! We spend all day together but I want to spend the nights too. I’m in love with you, Y/n. We have something incredibly rare between us. Can’t you see that? Please tell me you see that.”

You stayed silent as tears slipped out of his eyes, not having any clue what to say.

“Please?” He whispered at your silence.

“I do see it.” You touched his cheek lightly and he smiled in hope. “I see a beautiful and loving friendship between two people, Tom I’m sorry-“ he threw your hands off his cheeks and turned his back to you.

“I thought you felt the same. You’re always going on about the connection we have. Every friend of mine, all my brothers even your own mother told me there was no way you didn’t feel the same.” Tom sniffled. “The whole world sees something between us. They’ve seen it since we were kids. How is it that everyone sees it but you?” He looked at you over his shoulder.

“I just don’t, Tom. I’m sorry. If I could change it, I would.” You put a hand on his back and rubbed his shoulder blade with your thumb. “I love you so much, but not in that way. Not in the way you want me too. Not in the way you deserve.”

“You tell me I deserve it but then tell me not to marry this girl?” He turned around again and you saw how red and puffy his face was. You tried to reach out to him but he pushed your hands away.

“You don’t deserve a half baked engagement to some girl you met a month ago.” You said. “You deserve someone who knows everything about you, little things and big things, and someone loves you deeply and unconditionally. Someone you have a connection with.” You were as upset as he was now.

“Is that not you?” He cocked his head.

“Of course it’s me. Just not romantically. You have all my love, Thomas. I swear to you, my hearts beats just for you. Is that not enough?” You cried and he looked down at the floor.

“I would have you.” He said in defeat, nodding his head as he looked up at you. “If it were enough, I would have you.”

“You’re always gonna have me-“

“-I love you.” He cut in.

“-maybe not in the way that you want but that doesn’t mean-“

“-I love you.” He said again, as if he was accepting it.

“-we can’t continue being friends. You’re still my favorite person-“

“Just not the person you want to be with?” He asked with a sad smile.

“I’m sorry.” Was all you could give him.

“Don’t be. My bad for assuming, right?” He shuffled his feet and you felt more tears rising in your eyes.

“Can we talk about this? Please?” You begged, worrying if you ended this conversation it’d be the last one you ever had with him.

“I’ve said all I’ve had to say. What about you?” Tom shrugged and wiped his eyes.

“We need to be adults about this, Tom.” You grabbed his hand to keep him in the room. He looked down at your hands for a long time before squeezing yours and looking at you tearfully in the eyes.

“I can’t be anything but in love with you.” He said with a sad smile.

“Then why are you marrying her?” You asked him desperately.

“Because I don’t want to spend the rest of my life alone.” He told you.

“You’re not alone. You have me.” You held your intertwined hands against your chest, kissing the back of his hand.

“Do I?” He asked and dropped your hand, slamming the door behind him as he left the room.

The next few months leading up to Christmas had an ice between you and Tom that chilled the country. The distance between the two of you wasn’t noticeable enough to hurt your scores on the ice, but it was unbearable when you weren’t working. He wouldn’t talk to you, wouldn’t even look at you. Conversations never lead back to that night in his bedroom, no matter how hard you tried to lead them there. Tom went on as if it never happened, as if he never confessed his feelings for you.

You on the other hand, were given plenty of time to reflect. In those few months, you realized you’d never love anyone as you loved Tom, and in return, no one would ever love you the way he always had. You’d been so consumed in being his best friend that you hadn’t realized you wanted to be more. You knew there was no one in the world you could imagine spending the rest of your life with other than Tom. He was your soulmate, and you were his. Your heart broke as you knew you came to the conclusion too late. He was engaged to another girl. He was happy now, or so he claimed. So instead of confessing your feelings, you kept your mouth shut and let him distance himself from you.

It was different on the ice. Neither of you could conceal how you felt. Your chemistry was still evident and radiated off every leap and turn. With your newly realized love for him, your skating became even cleaner and more passionate. You were at the lowest point in your relationship but at the highest in your careers. You spend endless hours with Tom, practicing, performing, and being interviewed. Interviews turned awkward fast whenever Toms engagement was brought up. The rest of the world was as confused as you were.

“So Tom, you’re engaged?” A reporter asked and the room quieted down.

“Yes, I am.” Tom said stiffly. You tended up at his side and faked a smile.

“And not to Y/n?” The reporter joked. You felt your face flush, and not in the wya it usually did when you were questioned about your relationship with Tom.

“I was just was surprised as you were.” Tom said with sad laughter. You wanted to place a hand on his knee but decided against it in fear of rejection.

“How did you react, Y/n?” The reporter asked you.

“Yeah, I was surprised too. When I thought about my future with Tom and all the milestones I imagined we’d reach together, this was never a apart of the plan.” You laughed nervously. “I never saw this coming.”

On December 19, the church was set for Toms wedding. You sat in your seat with your leg bouncing nervously as his bride walked down the isle.

You couldn’t handle the smug look she gave you as she passed.

You couldn’t handle the stares of pity from everyone around you.

You couldn’t handle the somber look Tom had on his face as his eyes bore into yours.

You really couldn’t handle the feeling inside of you that told you you were making a terrible mistake.

Unable to handle being silent about your feelings anymore, you stood up. You locked eyes with Tom and gave him the most sincere look of an apology you could give him. He nodded and you took that as your cue to run out of the church.

“If anyone has any objections as to why these two should wed, speak now or forever hold your peace.” The priest read.

“I do.” Tom blurted.

“No no, you don’t say that yet, son.” The priest chuckled.

“No, I do. I object.” Tom said and dropped the girls hands like they were poison. “I can’t marry you, I’m sorry.”

“Why not?” His bride, no longer to be, demanded. Tom looked at the priest apologetically and then at his family.

“Because I’m in love with someone else.” He said as he stared at your vacant seat. There were no gasps of shock, just sighs of relief.

“I’m sorry everyone.” He said and then gave one last look at the girl. “I’m so sorry.”

Tom ran down the steps on the alter and out the doors, laughing a little as he went.

“Y/n? Y/n, wait!” Tom screamed once he was out of the church. He slowed down to a halt and looked around for you, but didn’t see you anywhere. He blew out a breath of defeat, knowing he was too late. You didn’t wait. You hadn’t run for him. You just ran.

Tom dragged his feet as he made his way to his car. There was no way he could go back into the church. His only option was to go home. Once Tom approached his car, he could hear someone jiggling the door handle on the passenger side. Suddenly, an all too familiar friend of his popped up from behind the car.

“What took you so long? We gotta go.” You urged in a panic. Toms entire face lit up at the sight of you. He smiled fondly, just taking you in.

You had waited.

But it didn’t seem like you could wait much longer. Tom unlocked the car and hopped inside. You bunched up your dress and did the same. Tom started the car and you drove off without another word. Once you had left the church parking lot, he looked back and laughed.

“I can’t believe I just did that! I left a girl on the alter. ” Toms smile quickly faded. “Can you imagine how that must feel? She must be devastated. Oh my God, should we go back?” Tom was experiencing excitement, confusion and guilt all at once.

“You can turn back if you want.” You said calmly. It was the last thing you wanted to do, but you’d do it for him.

“No. No of course we can’t go back. I can’t marry her just because I feel guilty.” Tom said mostly to himself. “Especially when I don’t love her.”

“You don’t?” You asked, having already suspected that he didn’t.

“I never did. And I don’t suppose she loved me either.” He laughed softly. “We were just two lonely people who didn’t want to be lonely anymore.”

“You don’t have to be lonely ever again.” You put one of your hands on his thigh. Tom looked at you before picking up your hand and kissing the back of it. You smiled slightly as he continued to drive.

“Can I ask you something?” Tom said, breaking the silence.

“Anything.” You replied.

“How’d you know I’d run after you?” He wondered. “I could’ve gone through with it. I could’ve married her. You must’ve waited by my car for a reason. How did you know I’d come after you?”

“It was that look.” You admitted. “I saw it in your eyes when you were on the alter. You know how we always say we have a connection?”

“Yeah?” He asked with a shy smile.

“That was it. It was our connection. You knew I’d run. I knew you’d follow.” You explained before quieting down. “Why did you run?“ You asked timidly.

"I couldn’t have what I really wanted, so I settled for whatever girl let me put a ring on her finger.” Tom confessed as he kept his eyes on the road.

“I see.” You nodded, also looking ahead.

“What about you? Why did you run?” He snuck a glance at you.

“I guess I couldn’t have what I really wanted either, and I couldn’t sit around and pretend to be happy for someone else when I was miserable.” You told him. “It hurt too much. Especially when it was my fault that I was miserable.”

"What is it that you really wanted?” Tom questioned and you looked out the window.

“Poor girl is probably so embarrassed.” You mumbled, feeling genuinely sorry for the girl he left at the alter. “The whole country was rooting against her and they won. She didn’t get what she wanted either.”

“You didn’t answer my question.” Tom said, feeling his heart pick up speed when a tiny smirk appeared on your face.

“What was it again?” You asked, shifting to face Tom. If he wanted to go all those months avoiding the conversation, you weren’t gonna let him have it when it was finally convenient for him. He needed to work for it.

“You said you couldn’t have what you really wanted, so you were miserable. What was it that you really wanted?” Tom asked, looking at you for answers. It was the first time you had made and held eye contact since you both ran.

“What I wanted was you.” You confessed, and Tom slammed on his breaks.

“Get out of the car.” He ordered.

“What? Why?” You asked as you unbuckled your seatbelt.

“Out. Now.” He repeated.

You hastily got out of the car, seeing that he had stopped at a small elevated platform that looked over a river. You walked over to the railing and waited for Tom as he slammed his door shut and made his way over to you.

“Look, Tommy, I didn’t mean to upset you and if you could just let me explain-” Tom cut you off by wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you into a long awaited kiss. You froze at this unexpected sign of affection, but quickly put your arms around his neck, where they belonged. Tom hugged you closer until there was no space between you.

You only broke apart to gasp for air. Tom smiled and pulled you into a hug, pressing a light kiss to your temple and holding you tight.

“I’ve missed you.” He said softly into your hair.

“I’ve missed you too. I’m sorry we fought.” You cried into his chest.

"Me too. I shouldn’t have sprung all that information on you at once. And I’m sorry I got mad for expecting you to figure out your feelings right away. I should’ve given you time.” He sniffled as he rubbed your back.

“I’m sorry too. And I do feel the same.” You pushed away from him a little so you could see him. “I’m sorry I didn’t realize sooner.

"Let’s put that in the past. It doesn’t matter anymore. All that matters is you and I, here and now.” Tom answered as he brushed your hair off your forehead.

“You look great, by the way. I never got to tell you that.” You complimented Tom as you fixed his tie.

“Thanks. I was more excited for the suit than I was for the wedding. It’s a shame it’s gonna go to waste.” He laughed lightly as an idea popped into your head.

“It doesn’t have to.” You realized.

“What do you mean?” He asked curiously.

“There’s a chapel about five miles from here.” Was all you said. Tom knew exactly what you were thinking. You grabbed his hand and you both ran for the car. Before you took off, Tom ran back to the railing and threw the flower in his lapel into the river, the flower that matched the brides bouquet. You laughed and applauded him as he got back into the car.

An hour later, you were officially married. You were slightly disappointed that your families couldn’t be there to see it, but Tom promised you that you could throw a huge wedding reception to celebrate your newly realized love later on. Before getting back into Tom’s jeep, you pulled your husband into a hug. Tom smiled and put his arms around his bride. You stayed in each other’s embrace for as long as you could, swaying gently as Tom hummed your favorite song. You were used to performing the most elaborate dance routines together, so this simple slow dance was nice. He was about to pull away when you hugged him tighter.

“Wait. Don’t let go.” You said and Tom put his arms back around you.

“I won’t.” He promised. “I won’t ever.”

Tag List 🏷

@maybemona @sunrise-shawn @foreverxholland @writing-for-hours-on-end @lavender-writer @captainmandeestudent17 @whatareyouhidingpeter @takenbyheartstrings @ultrunning @imyourliquor-youremypoison @theolwebshooter @andreasworlsboring101 @guksmyfav @waiting-to-be-myself @letsloveimagines @peterparkersbodyguard @peterparkoure @a-villain-vying-for-attention @m19friend @justcallmehitgirl @averyfosterthoughts @jackiehollanderr @tiny-friggin-human @celestial-skylines

#tom holland x reader #tom holland x yn #tom holland x you #tom holland x y/n #peter parker x reader #spiderman #iron man #tom holland fluff #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland x skater!reader #scott moir #tessa virtue #peter parker fluff #peter parker x y/n #tom holland #tom holland angst

[anotherbeingsworld]

Once Upon A Miracle

To: Dani // @lovealexhunt​ as I was your gifter for the choices potluck hosted by @homeformyheart​ 💖

Pairing: Bryce Lahela x F!MC (Olivia Hadley)

Warning: None, just... fluff!

A/N: Hii, I am back with a new fic and this is a fluff! I know, I haven’t been writing a while and I am soo sorry; things been rough and I hope this is good enough. I have a few to post hopefully before the year ends! But, this one is for my good friend Dani, she is a fighter and she will fight too! Ily and happy holidays Dani!! I hope I did Olivia justice! 💙💙💙💙 Happy holidays everyone , I hope all of you have an amazing one ! - Alya! 

MY MASTERLIST 

Holidays. Every year was a surprise for her, as the holidays were filled with miracles and it’s a mark for a new beginning. A new beginning to start over, yet… the hospital was filled with patients instead.  She was a believer on miracles, and there is going to be a miracle happening at the hospital today. 

She stood by the nurse station along with some nurses, as a 9-year-old boy displayed a sad expression on his face upon the presence of all the machines surrounding him. Olivia walked his way with his chart in her hand.

‘Hi Chris, how are you today?’ Her voice soft as the boy’s fears slowly rolled down.

‘I’m… scared. Do you know where my mommy is?’ His voice is still shaky despite the nerves has been controlled.

She smiled at him, an encouraging smile; the one where it could make your worries fly away in a certain amount of time.

As she was about to reply, a couple was spotted speeding into the room with a worried expression on their faces, which transitioned into a relief seeing their son in good condition.

Olivia took a few steps back giving the family their space, as the hugs were exchanged giving her a mental note to call her parents as it was one of the times where she didn’t celebrate the holidays with her family.

After a while, the father breaks away from the hug making his way to Olivia.

“Hi, Mr. Wheeler. My name is Dr. Olivia Hadley and I have your son’s result…” Her voice is soft, as the mother pulls the boy into a hug earning a smile from herself.

“Nice to meet you, Dr. Hadley, do you know what is wrong with Chris? We got a call from the hospital from his daycare and we hope it won’t be serious…”. Olivia knows that tone of voice all too well, as he was trying to disguise the fear with a calming demeanor.

“His results states that Chris has a fever along with the flu which is not serious at all. We will get his prescriptions ready but…we have to monitor Chris for the night to make sure nothing is serious for now.” She states earning a relief looked once again followed by a wide smile from Mr. Wheeler who looks much calmer than before.

“Is our boy going to be okay Dr. Hadley? It’s almost the holidays and it’s one of his favorite time of the year and we hope we could bring him home soon to his brothers and sisters at home…’ Her voice is soft, a glimmer of hope can be seen in her eyes hoping this nightmare would be over soon.

“I can’t promise anything Mr.s Wheeler, but I know we will do everything we can to get Chris better.”

…

…

…

She nods to the family while leaving the room to let the family reunite. The charts were placed at the nurses station , as she bumps into Bryce who somehow has a huge smile on his face upon her presence.

“Bryce, what a wonderful surprise.” She smiled at the sudden appearance who happens to be her boyfriend which is rare to see on the pediatrics floor.

“Well, I wanna see my girlfriend after a long 24-hour shift.” He placed a kiss on her cheek, as they walked together on the halls as their pages are silent for now.

They stopped in front of a familiar place which somehow their favorite place besides the on-call room. The NICU is  on the peds ward. Both of them stood behind the glass, as they observed the nurses handling the babies inside with care. There were small coos can be heard, as there were a few babies are asleep, and there are some who are wide awake.

“I see a new-comer!…” Liv exclaimed excitedly as Bryce’s eyes fall onto the view in front of them.

“Isaac Rivers.” He states after reading the chart from behind the glass.

Olivia’s eyes widen at an idea, as she pulled Bryce with her leading them both into the NICU which was met by one of Olivia’s closest colleagues, Miranda.

“Olivia hi! How can I help ya today?”

She gestures to the babies, with a wide smile along with her puppy-eyes to Miranda which she instantly understands the look on her face.

“Alright Liv, since the staff was short today; we need some extra hands today.” A smile appeared on her face, as both Bryce and Olivia went inside to help.

They get themselves sanitized before they handled the babies. The NICU was one of her favorite places in the hospital, it’s the start of growth where a human was brought into the world. And, she doesn’t want a kid to be alone especially during the holidays.

They shuffled places, as Olivia observes the little girl inside one of the cribs. She took a look on her chart, as a small smile appeared at the name that was written on the chart.

Olivia Renelle Johnson. 24th December 2020.

She took a seat, as she observed little Olivia who is cooing in her crib. Small coos can be heard somehow made her mesmerized by her little existence. So many moments have passed, as she found herself hooked to Olivia once again, after checking the other babies around her.

She was entranced at the moment that she didn’t realize a figure was standing behind her.

“Now I understand why you are hooked with her...” Bryce lets out a small laugh as he places his arms on her shoulders.

“She is an Olivia as well.” Her words came out as soft as silk, as the baby coos softly once more with a small smile appeared on her face.

“Well, all of the Olivia’s I known has left a mark in my life and I think this one did the same to you Liv.” His eyes fall onto baby Olivia as he scoots forward to take a closer look, as his thumb was captured by baby Olivia herself in the crib.

…

…

…

Liv excuses herself to meet with Miranda who is smiling at them both.

“What’s with the look Miranda?” She eyes her earning a nudge from her friend.

“The three of you looked like a family, and it’s such a calming sight. You are a natural Liv.” She states as both of their gazes fall onto Bryce who was still playing with baby Olivia.

“He is such a natural too, I honestly never expected that.” A smile was formed on her lips, everyday she learned something new about Bryce and, it has been an enjoyable process.

“So, when is your shift will end Liv?”

“Our shifts are done actually, we wanted to check in these cuties before going back… plus, with the holidays; I knew you might need some extra hands.”

Miranda shook her head while a smile lingers on her face,

“You know you deserve a break from this hospital once in a while right?”

“I know, I guess this is some part of me that can’t be erased know and I am happy with it.”

“Whatever you say Liv.”

Both of them stood in silence before she decided to bring up the question.

“Have the parents taken baby Olivia back yet since it’s almost been 24 hours since her birth?” Olivia asked earning a sad look from Miranda who shook her head sadly.

“Baby Olivia unfortunately were found pre-mature, as the mother has to go through an early c-section because of it.”

She felt her heart breaking slowly,

“Do you think she’ll make it?” Her voice filled with uncertainty which is replied with Miranda’s encouraging smile.

“She is a fighter, just like you Liv. We will monitor her for the night and who knows; maybe a miracle will happen. It’s the holidays after all.” She winks at her, making her calm down a little but can’t help by the pang of sadness inside her.

…

…

A sad expression falls onto Olivia’s features, somehow a part of her was already been flooded by sadness. It hurts her to see this sight, a child with no parents.

She makes her way back to Bryce, as she took a seat beside him. He notices the sadness on her face and asked.

“Hey, what’s wrong? Is Olivia okay?” He gestures to the baby Olivia who is sleeping soundly in her crib.

Liv nodded but a part of her feels down, somehow sadness has washed into her system.  

“There was complications during her birth. Miranda told me, they have to keep an eye on baby Olivia for the night.” The words felt heavy, as it escapes her lips earning as his smile falters a bit, his eyes fall onto baby Olivia who is sound asleep with a pang of sadness can be seen in his eyes.

Bryce nods, understanding as he pulled Liv into a hug and placed a kiss on top of her head. As they continue their task of accompanying baby Olivia for the night, with the addition of instrumental Christmas music playing in the background.

…

…

…

It was midnight and its officially Christmas as they sat in the NICU with one another with permission from Miranda; they are allowed to accompany baby Olivia and the other babies who haven’t been returned to their parents yet.

The room was dimmed as the occupying babies were sleeping softly with Olivia and Bryce to make their first Christmas less lonely.

After a while, Bryce brought back two cups of hot cocoa from the nearby office in an attempt to keep them both awake.

“So, what do you think about the holidays in the hospital?” Bryce asked as he has his arm around her after setting down the cup of hot cocoa down.

Olivia starts to think, as somehow it was a new tradition for her to celebrate the holidays anywhere other than her home.

“It’s been exciting and very very new.”

“But…?”

“But, the company is very much enjoyable.” She smiles at him, earning a wide smile from the man himself.

“Good answer.” He placed a kiss on her forehead, followed by small movement from baby Olivia herself.

…

…

…

As it hit the 24 hour mark, both Olivia and Bryce had wide smiles upon their faces as baby Olivia survives the night.

“She did it Bryce, she survives!” Olivia exclaimed quietly as they hugged once more, it was a long night but… it is worth it.

“It’s the season of miracles, and baby Olivia here is one of them.” His voice is slow, as his gaze falls upon the crib.

Olivia nods, a smile is not leaving her face as they stood there. Miracles indeed could happen during this time of the year, and it was indeed the best Christmas ever.

THE END.

Tags:  @bitchloveskcbaseball , @storyofmychoices , @mvalentine , @princess-geek , @lahellacute ,  @this-person-is-busy , @annekebbphotography , @mrsbhandari , @dcbbw , @choicessa , ,@fantasyoverreality98 , @baltersome , @ofpixelsandscribbles , @thundergom  @starrystarrytrouble,  @kelseaaa  ,@bratzlahela , @choicesficwriterscreations  , @lalizah , @drethanramslay , @aveeiro , @eleanorbloom , @openheartfanfics , @brycesgirl  ,  @freckles-spangledvampire , @agentnolastname , @robintora​ (comment if you want to be tagged or removed 💜💜)

#playchoices #bryce x mc #open heart #bryce x olivia #anotherbeingsworldwrites #choices fic writers creations #bryce lahela #olivia hadley

[crazy-loca-blog]

Personal thoughts on Open Heart Second Year, Chapter 20

Note: As the title says, these are just personal opinions on Choices books and chapters. Of course, you may agree or disagree with them, I only use this platform to express my thoughts on what I read every week and what I’d like to see in the next chapters, because none of my friends play Choices so I have no one to comment the books with.

That’s a wrap! I can’t believe Book 2 is over. And just like everyone, I didn’t know how I felt about the final chapter of the book… until I started writing this… and I had a realization just as our MC did (of course, this led me to write this post from scratch like three times!). You know… it wasn’t brilliant, but it wasn’t a bad ending… I’d say it was pretty correct… and maybe even better than we think it was. Let me show you why:

At the very beginning, I had this kind of bittersweet feeling, just like everyone else. But then I replayed the chapter a few times to try different options and routes, and I started noticing that the writers made some amazing job paying attention to many of the little details we got to see throughout the book and finding a way to put them all into the final chapter. Everything was a lesson, everything made sense and everything almost everything got a closure… and that’s just some awesome writing, guys. Trust me, I had a long list of complaints, but by now, my only complaint is that the chapter was way too short.

Let’s begin with the main issue of this chapter: Leland Bloom and the check. I had the same question as the MC for a whole week. Why would the man give a billion dollar check to a second year resident? And with the sneak peek it kind of hit me: Leland not only was trying to buy Edenbrook, he was also trying to buy us… because for him, it’s always about money. I could even see our MC going through the same dilemma that Jackie faced with Panacea. And I have this gut feeling that what we decided to do with the check may have an impact in Book 3.

To be honest, at first I didn’t pay much attention to the scenes with Sienna, Aurora and Elijah. Even though I have to admit I missed Kyra on this set of dialogs, I was glad to see that the writers gave us some time alone with them and I loved how different their answers were. However, I saw them as some kind of filler content… like “oh, we need to add an extra conversation with our friends because it’s the final chapter”.

The same applies to our LIs. At first, I didn’t know if asking our LIs for advice was a good idea unless you’re romancing Ethan (based on the fact that he’s also our mentor and the only person who knows Leland Bloom as much as we do). I would have even added Naveen and Harper to this set of dialogs, as this was more a professional thing than a personal issue and they would have surely given our MC a great piece of advice (especially Naveen!).

But then, it hit me. This wasn’t just a set of random conversations. Instead, the writers made an amazing job mixing the storylines of every one of our friends and LIs with the conversation about the check and Leland Bloom, and that led to different realizations based on who you chose to talk to. That was simply brilliant and it reminded me why I love this series so much… nothing on these books is written at random. Everything has a purpose and sooner or later, it always clicks.

Based on the same premise, can we talk about how our story with Esme seemed to be coming full circle? No matter how your relationship with her ended (at least not yet), we finished our story with her right where we started: healing her wounds. However, there is something that is kind of bothering me. During our conversation, Esme told us that Leland had reached an agreement with Levi’s family, so the lawsuit wasn’t a problem anymore. And here we go again. We know that Leland isn’t the type of person who does things just to help people… and now I can’t help wondering if he may have found a new ally in Esme. Will she keep the secondary role she got in Book 2 or will she become a more important character in Book 3?

Another cycle that was closed during this chapter was Kyra’s. I’m so glad that she was finally declared cancer-free (can we just stop for a moment and give Bryce the credit he deserves for this? PB didn’t do it, so we should!), but it kind of shocked me to see her go and realize we won’t be seeing her in Book 3, especially because she is part of our gang now. Her departure really got me wondering if this is PB’s way to prepare us for the final goodbye in Book 3. I’m also wondering what the writers have planned for Rafael. After all he went through, I’d really like to see him back in Edenbrook… but not as a paramedic. I know he said he wouldn’t go back to hospital life, but after all the physical therapy he got, I think this would actually be a great job for him. He loves to help people (and that’s something he won’t get rid of easily because it’s his nature), he loves exercising and, at the same time, he needs to calm down and take life slowly. I don’t know about you guys, but after all the complaints to have him back, and now that he’s finally fine, I need to have him around!

As per the romance with our LIs, please don’t laugh at me, but I think PB decided to ground us all. For a whole book this fandom has been so focused on “fighting” over LIs, that I can imagine the OH writers saying something like “You know what? Enough! Let’s remind them who is in charge of the narrative here!”… and that’s how they fooled us all.

However, if you’re romancing Bryce, Ethan or Rafael (sorry Jackie stans, maybe it’s because of the path I read, but I don’t feel the same about that relationship), they certainly gave us all those “we’re in a real relationship” vibes at the party… and at the private party as well. By now, I think there are some things that go without saying, and even though we’re probably not getting the content we thought we would have, things look very official to me. Sometimes you just don’t need words, you need actions, and those three guys have shown our MC all their love through them. Every piece of advice, every conversation, every small detail, even in the sex scenes you may see there has been an evolution… and I’m not talking about how kinky things became, but about what’s behind it… you can definitely see two people who trust each other, who feel confident about what they have, and who look like people in love. But of course, they won’t say those three words yet. I’ve always felt like PB is very respectful of the timing (not only in OH, but in their books in general), so I wouldn’t imagine them saying “ILY” right now, especially because after all the ups and downs of the plot, things are just starting to take their final shape for Book 3. But if I go back to the final 30 diamond scenes in Book 1 and compare them to the ones we got in Book 2, Chapter 20, you can safely say the relationships with all three male LIs are at a whole new level now.

Finally, one of the things that worried us the most was the insane amount of subplots this book had. Did they manage to give closure to all of them? Let’s see:

Aurora Emery: For a whole book, Aurora felt like she was “the lesser Emery”. We went back to college with her and we got to know about her struggles to make friends. Finally, she found her own closure in Chapter 17, after having an amazing heart to heart conversation with her aunt. So yes, her subplot did have a closure.

Sienna Trinh: Our sweetheart spent two whole books involved in toxic relationships: first, with her boyfriend, and then, with Mitch, her intern. Even though she only recognized the toxicity of her second relationship, I’m glad that she’s finding peace after losing Danny and I’m hoping for her to have an awesome Book 3 just because she deserves it. But yes, her subplot did have a closure.

Elijah Greene: Our boy was the first character who made it safe to Book 3. He had some issues when trying to keep boundaries with Sothy, his intern, and it seems our choice to help him or not, actually had an impact on the relationship between them both and in Sothy’s performance as an intern. So yes, his subplot definitely did have a closure.

Jackie Varma: Her conflict with Panacea was fully addressed in the Vegas chapter. However, we still don’t know if having her name in the list of doctors who received money will have some long-term effect. Will this be a topic they’ll rekindle in Book 3? I have a gut feeling that this might be one of the subplots that was carried to Book 3. So no, I’d say her subplot didn’t have a closure.

Bryce Lahela: The Lahela siblings subplot was one of my favorites of Book 2. Keiki is an awesome teenager, and seeing Bryce growing so much as a character was a delight and it made me really proud. He sacrificed everything for his sister, to the point he even swallowed his pride and talked to his parents to ask for help. So I’m glad to say that yes, this subplot had its happy ending and found its proper closure.

Rafael Aveiro: Book 2 was a such a self-discovery journey for Rafael. As I said last week, I think he was a mess the whole book, and I don’t think this had to do with the writing, but actually with the fact that, before the incident, he was questioning his life and everything he loved (even his feelings for our MC). The incident not only was a “rebirth” for him, it gave him a whole new perspective on life and it challenged him through his recovery process. Did he find closure? I don’t think so. Only the incident had a closure, his existential problems still have a long way to go.

Ethan Ramsey: Ethan had two face not only one, but two conflicts. The first one was personal: not only his mom returned after abandoning him 25 years ago… he had to deal with the fact that she was an addict. So even though it seems like everything was solved after he left her at the rehab center, I don’t think this is the last time we’ll see Louise, as there are some things that were left like hanging (for example, who was she talking on the phone when we first met her?). So… did this subplot have a closure? Probably yes, but I’m not a 100% sure. Then we had his professional conflict: the money problems were never about the money, but about being loyal to Naveen’s mission. Was this solved? Absolutely yes! It only took him a conversation with Naveen to realize that he could carry his mission wherever he goes.

Esme Ortega: Esme probably got the worst part when it comes to subplots. She actually had two of them and I don’t think any of them was properly solved. The first one was the harassment she suffered when we first met her. The “closure” was treating the guy for a serious illness, talking to him and then leaving the incident behind… or diagnosing him with dementia so he had to quit his job? I mean… really? And then we have Levi’s case. Sure, everything was properly solved after Leland Bloom and Levi’s family reached an understanding and avoided the lawsuit… but we’ll never know if she actually did it, won’t we? Where is the “resident-intern” confidentiality we talked about in Chapter 7? Sorry, but this is a HUGE NO for me.

I know there are some things I might be missing now, but I’m actually saving them for a future post. As per Book 3, my bet is that we’ll be having a new release in February, just to keep in line with the releases of the first two books. Will Book 3 be the last one of the series? Honestly… I don’t know. I know the series is supposed to be about our three-year residency, but now I have some doubts. First of all, medical drama is a topic where you can constantly add new content without necessarily repeating the formula. Also, the fact that was mentioned that Bryce’s residency lasts 4 years instead of three is kind of giving me some hope of a fourth book. Finally, let’s face it: Open Heart and The Royal Romance/The Royal Heir are currently the most successful series for PB. And after seven books, it’s time for the TRR gang to take a break. Maybe it’s time for Open Heart to pick up the slack.

Our MC: Even though I don’t think our MC had a plot that needed to find closure, the book certainly left us some uncertainties about their story. And the most important one is the lack of PTSD after the incident. Well… let me tell you that maybe not everything is lost. I was so curious about it that I actually did some research. And guess what? There is something called “delayed-onset PTSD”. This form of PTSD appears at least six months after a traumatic event, and in some cases, it even takes years to appear. However, this does not mean that an affected person has no PTSD symptoms prior to this six months period. This would match exactly with our MC’s behavior after the incident. So now that our friends issues seem to be mostly solved… maybe it’s time for our MC to face their own problems?

#playchoices #choices stories you play #open heart #choices open heart #open heart choices #casey valentine #ethan ramsey #bryce lahela #rafael aveiro #jackie varma #elijah greene #aurora emery #sienna trinh #esme ortega #harper emery #naveen banerji #kyra santana #keiki lahela #leland bloom #edenbrook

[rogerina-yee-haw]

Joe Mazzello - NSFW Alphabet

a/n: I'm dedicating it to @starfleet-wannabe💓 babes, you make my days better!!! ily!!!(also I promise you that those imagines abt Joe x Reader will see the light once...I promise you, Erin)

I can't insert the "Keep reading" link from the tumblr mobile app, cause I'm really dumb, so if you don't want to read it - just scroll down k thx

this was requested many times and I'm sorry, my dudes....this is really bad....

warnings: obviously smut lmao, typos (sorry I've read it too many times just to check on errors and I can't look at this text right now, and there are obviously still bunch of mistakes, sorry, fellas)

Joe if you ever see this I'm sorry I hope it never happens

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

Joe is the softest human being ever (well, mostly). It doesn't matter whether the sex was romantic and tender or rough and passionate, the aftercare is always the same: he helps clean you up and then make you both tea, while you lie in bed, talking and just spending time with each other.

B = Body Part (Their favorite body part of their partners)

As it was considered on this website, Joe is an ass man. You can count the times his hands were off your bum; he always keeps his hand on your lower back, and then, if he's in the mood (and he's always in the mood) he starts caressing your butt through your clothes, grabbing and tapping it when he can. It's not like the ass is the only thing he admires - Joe loves all of you, every part of your body and soul. But your ass is just so squishy and soft, and he can't get enough of it.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically)

If the sex is unprotected, he cums on your ass. Period.

D = Dirty Secret

Joe doesn't have dirty secrets. If he wants to try something, he'll tell you about it; there isn't something you two can't discuss.

E = Experience (How experienced are they?)

Joe is very experienced. He knows exactly what to do to make you scream his name in the bedroom.

F = Favourite Position

Doggy (unbelievable, right?). He also loves reverse cowgirl for obvious reasons. But it doesn't mean that you don't change positions while having sex. He loves seeing you on top, riding both of you into orgasm; he enjoys missionary and every other sex position, simply because he gets to try them all with you.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc.)

Come on, it's Joe we're talking about here. Sex is sometimes filled with him telling you stupid jokes, and always it turns out to be just like he's having a stand up show, while you lie down naked under him. He may crack up some dad jokes during the most tense moments, like when you're on top of him, and you're gasping and moaning, "I'm cumming", he'd say breathlessly, "Hi, cumming, I'm Joe", and you'll just burst into crazy laugh, even though the joke is stupid and not funny.

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

He doesn't like to be completely bare down there, so he just keeps it trimmed.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect)

Joe is very romantic (we been knew). He just loves you so much that, even if the sex rough, he still wants and needs you to feel loved and comfortable. The man is so in love with you that he can't stop kissing and touching you, whispering how much he adores you.

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

It's a must, if he's away filming. You two like to get yourselves off while talking on the phone, breathing and moaning messily while telling each other the filthiest things. Joe is actually an expert in dirty talk.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

Joe's got hella lots of kinks. He's most preferable ones are:

Daddy kink. Do you really think this man doesn't like to be called daddy? If you do, you're wrong. Seeing you twirling in ecstasy when "daddy" is the only thing you can weakly whimper makes him bust a nut right then and there.

Edging. He's an asshole sometimes, alright? Joe enjoys it when you desperately beg him to fuck you. He loves when you're being restrained all day, and you walk around frustrated and horny. Not to mention that the thought of fucking you hard later turns him on immediately. (You love all of it too, even though you don't admit it sometimes; you're also fond of the idea teasing Joe like this later).

Slight voyeurism, but he likes to watch himself fuck you. He's bought a huge mirror for the bedroom, so that you two could have sex in front of it. He loves to pound into you from behind, holding your hair, slapping your ass and saying the dirtiest shit, like, "Watch yourself being wrecked by my cock" or "Look how pretty you look, look at your pretty tits boucing like this cause I'm fucking you so hard"

Dirty talk (it's considered as a kink, right?). Come on, Joe is a master at this. He'd spill the filth at random places; like you two are doing grocery shopping and he comes to you holding a watermelon, leans in and whispers in your ear, "I wish I could bend you over this shopping cart and fuck you till you can't move". And you just stand there bewildered, while he continues his routine. Or when you're on some fancy event, he'd put his hand on your waist and say to you quietly, "You look so sexy like this with this red lipstick. Can't wait when these pretty lips are wrapped around my cock". And your eyes go wide as you choke on your drink, while everyone looks at you weirdly.

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)

Um, anywhere? Joe's just turned on by you 24/7 (as well as you are by him), so he doesn't mind having sex with you in restrooms, closets, empty hallways, in his trailer, your childhood bedrooms... Once you were at the party and caught your friends having sex; no wonder that fifteen minutes later you and Joe were doing the same thing in the bathroom, of course, in front of the mirror. Sex in his car is a must too, especially when you're driving - he thinks you look really hot while doing so. One time you were almost caught doing it in the car by the police, and since then you can't stop giggling like two teenagers while remembering about it.

But Joe loves sex in your bedroom. He just feels like this is the most intimate place on the Earth, where you two can be sincere and sensitive.

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

Anything. He's got the crazy sex energy, and literally anything can make him go. Once, when you were brushing your teeth, and wearing one of his old tee-shirts and baggy pajama pants, he decided it was a good idea to start teasing you, by leaving wet, mouth-opened kisses on your neck and by fingering you slowly. You evidently couldn't brush you teeth normally at that moment.

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn-offs)

Joe wouldn't do something that'll harm and hurt both of you.

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He's a pro in giving. You'll be screaming and grabbing his hair tightly, even though he barely touched you. And as you love giving too, he wouldn't ever be against it.

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

You can experience every pace during the time you have sex. He may start roughly, pounding into you harshly, and then go slower, stretching you gently and whispering sweet nothings against your skin.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

Joe loves quickies. Once when he was on set and had to leave for shooting in five minutes, he pinned you against the wall of his trailer and fucked the soul outta you. "It's just a preview of what you're getting at night", he winked at you while leaving and you just gasped. This man is something, y'all.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

You both love taking risks. Joe enjoys having sex when the guests you invited to your party may come at any moment; he once decided to start fingering you while you were at dinner with your family. "Such a good girl, taking me so well", he whispered in your ear when you struggled not to moan loudly in front of your parents. "I'm gonna fuck you so good when we get into the car. I'm gonna reward you for being such a good girl and not cumming here".

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last)

If he and you are feeling alright, 2 and more rounds. But if one of you is not okay, and the sex is just full of love and reassurance, there'd be just one round.

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

You own toys. And Joe's using them on you. Especially when he's being a little shit - means when he's edging you.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Once you were having an unplanned and sloppy sex in the secluded bathroom at one after-party of the awards, and he pulled out right when you were about to cum. He initiated the sex and denied you both. That's how much of a "tease" he is.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

He's loud when he's in the mood. He can moan loudly, and sometimes when you feel incredibly good he comes while screaming your name.

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

Joe's got a breeding kink. (It's not really surprising, though, this man radiates dad energy). He gets hard just thinking about you being pregnant with his child. Man wants to have a family with you, and that's why he can barely keep it in his pants when you're around (always).

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

His dick is a perfect size to make you scream. That's it.

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

Joe's sex drive is immeasurable. You have no idea how this man can always be horny and ready to fuck.

Z = ZZZ (how quickly they fall asleep afterward)

He falls asleep as soon as you two cuddle; when you start breathing in unison, he nods off pretty quickly, still holding you tightly.

#joe mazzello #joe mazzello x reader #joe mazzello x you #joe mazzello imagine #joe mazzello fanfiction #joe mazzello headcanon #joe mazzello hc #joe mazzello fic #joe mazzello smut #joe mazzello fluff #joe mazzello icon #joe mazzello icons #joe mazzello header #joe mazzello headers #bohemian rhapsody movie #bohemian rhapsody 2018 #bohemian rhapsody #queen #borhap #bo rhap #borhap boys #imagine #headcanon #fanficition #fic #reader #you #my writing

[ofmiscreants]

♡ ◟ ° ›   jung jaewon, cismale, he/him, twenty three   ⋯   ❛   thank you for applying to STONED RECORDS, MILO YUN ! before we start this job interview, i would just like to go over a few questions. you said your best attribute was ASSERTIVE, right ? well, word around town is that some people find you to be a bit more EGOCENTRIC … but, nevermind that. i’m actually more curious about whether you were actually THE ONE WHO LEAKED THEIR EX’S NUDES last year ? oh, you were ? that’s unfortunate. on the bright side, i heard that you excel at VIDEOGRAPHY …. so that’s cool ! now, one more question … your last manager said that you’re hiding that you’ve been CAMMING FOR TWO YEARS FOR SOME SIDE CASH AND YOUR BEST FRIEND’S FATHER IS YOUR NUMBER ONE TIPPER, is that true ? — haha , just kidding ! they didn’t say that, i just read that about you online . anyway , you got the job ! ❜ 】 eri, pst, she/her. 

hello i’m eri ! a cat obsessed, possibly nocturnal and very awkward individual. this is my first time joining an rp in .. years, and honestly i am very excited. i do work full time so i will likely be more active on line, but i look forward to writing threads on the dash as well ! i want to preface this with the fact that i am NOT my muse. the things that milo does / say are not me, i do not agree with his moral ( or lack there of ) and trust me when i say i probably hate him more than you. with that said, prepare yourself for the mess that is milo yun. 

so to start off, a brief history of milo's childhood: boy was a spoiled BRAT. his mother gave him everything, he basically never heard the word no, and although he ended up with a little sister by five years he still radiated and owned his only child energy. his mother married a very wealthy man when he was about 8, and milo always hated him for taking even more attention away from him. the only good thing that came from his step-dad was all the money he knew came directly from that man's bank account.

growing up, he was a generally decent person other than his hatred of the word no and not getting his way. personality-wise, he was tolerable. he teased people in joking ways, was a bit outspoken, but nothing too bad. that was until he got in his first relationship. he'd lost his virginity at 13 but didn't get with anyone for real until 15/16 ( i am hoping to get this connection so we can discuss that further if you're interested ). it was a year or so together before milo found out they'd cheated on him and that changed him for the worst. never having been the most romantic guy, he vowed to be the exact opposite from that day on. never again would someone make him cry, never would someone come close enough to his heart to break it, and he would never allow himself to be vulnerable with someone on a level like that again.

it wasn't just a fear of love he gained but an entirely fucked up and cynical attitude as well. he started acting out more, picking fights with people until someone else swung first and he couldn't be pinned for starting it (even though he 100% instigated it ). he wasn't miserable, but he had miserable moments. and soon it became harder for him to care about other's feelings or happiness, and started worrying only about his own happiness and his own needs.

by the time he finished high school he had a well-known reputation of being quite the casanova, and had left all too many hearts broken in his wake. he might not have the urge to love again, but he had a craving for every other part of it ... and deep down he missed it, feeling loved, even if he had no intention of reciprocating it.

BASICALLY, HE FUCKS AROUND AND PLAYS WITH PEOPLE'S HEARTS BECAUSE HE WANTS TO BE WANTED BUT ALSO NEVER WANTS TO NEED ANYONE EVER AGAIN OK.

ok so at 18 he graduated from high school as you do, naturally his parents assumed he'd be going to college but when he informed them that nah he was not, they waite a few months which were spent partying and acting like a crazed teenager in heat before finally warning him that if he didn't get a job he'd be cut off until he did. naturally, he went a week giving them both the silent treatment.. and in that time landed his first job at a coffee shop. it did not last long, and he worked at various other places around town and most of which he didn't last more than a few months at. authority? yeah .. he simply is not a fan. his luck was running out, that was until he decided to try out camming.

it started off slow, but by 21 he was killing it. getting paid to sit in his room and undress for men who are showering him in compliments and tips?? it was a dream come true. after realizing how much money he could make .. it changed a lot. he decided to only work part-time jobs in order to keep the illusion that he was making regular money a thing, and kept all his camming and sugar daddies behind closed doors.

this plan worked out great, two years in and he's working at stoned records and chilling, while nightly leading his double life as a very successful male cammer with a wide variety of fans from male to female of all ages. his favorites, however .. tend to be the older gentleman, the ones he can sucker into paying for skype dates and private videos, the ones who he has to resist rolling his eyes when he calls them daddy but that instant gratification of gifts of money being sent to him makes it all worth it. simple enough, until one of his top tippers turns out to be his best friend's dad. yikes .. and at first he questioned whether or not this was a good idea, but knowing how much money they had, it was hard to resist. he figured .. if it weren't him, it would be some other cammer so why not enjoy the wealth? well because of this he's been holding in a dark secret, having to avoid eye contact during those awkward run-ins, and pretending not to now intimate details about his own friends' family. this is a plot i would VERY much like to fill, and i am willing to change details or information around to make it fit better with your muse.

ok now that i have rambled forever i'm going to attempt to give a few more points that are much shorter

his rumor is about how he leaked his exes nudes after their break up ... this a heavily desired plot and i would love to have it. milo is a fucked up guy and honestly, they probably found out he cheated so in order to "win" this battle he leaked the nudes he had of them and then proceeded to dump them .. i'm sorry he's horrible

sexually he chooses not to label himself, he is attracted to attractive people and goes for what he wants. pansexual would be the closest description, but he himself will never put his sexuality into a box. with that said, he leans toward the dominant-top position, but he is also very open-minded and very filthy so opportunities are endless with him. sex to him is the biggest ego boost .. he loves being wanted, love the validation he gets from someone wanting him and feeling good because of him. he also very much gets off on others being vulnerable with him ( yes we get it he was traumatized bc he's a big brat ) and enjoys the power play dynamic that can come from sexual situations. anything beyond sex and .. he just stops caring. he knows ahead of time that he'll never be the one from them and doesn't plan on making that realization a very easy or pain-free one.

romantically he has only ever felt that attachment once. after he got his heart broken he vowed no more. he technically considers himself aromantic, but if you ask me he's just stubborn and refuses to relinquish power because he was embarrassed and his ego got very bruised. in reality, he's terrified of being vulnerable and giving someone else the chance to decide he isn't good enough. mind games are fun simply because he knows how to gain and keep the upper hand.

a few last things i feel like mentioning, he gets into fights often, drinks very often, does any sort of substance offered to him ( no injecting himself with anything though ), and basically is just ... a fucked up dude with an extremely distorted view of reality. his ego drives him 90% of the time, and he seriously lacks empathy. he's not the best dude in the world .... very far from it.

oh and his dream was to become a famous youtuber / influencer so he got really good at photography and videography but when he didn't become really famous within six months he gave up and instead started camming, just felt like throwing that in so i didn't forget oK now he's milo with the big dick and great lighting.

OK NOW THAT IM DONE RAMBLING .. hopefully some of you actually made it through this, i apologize again for the length of this. anyway i have stats for him and wanted connections so please feel free to check them out and hit me up if you want to do any of them OR if you have other ideas OR just to brainstorm together because i want all of the plots. ok thank you for reading and ily you !

p.s. all plots are open to any gender unless a specific one is stated where it says open. some may have certain pronouns already written but i am by no means closed off to other gender considering it is not something he has a preference for. i also did not have time to write out as many connections as i wanted so please don’t be discouraged with the lack of them .. i work full time and have been very busy lately i swear. i will try to fill them in / edit them as i get more.

#stone:intro #hello this is milo !! #i apologize for how long this is #i tried to shorten it and it did not work but #its also a rambly mess so please message me if you have questions or just to plot #i swear i am a much nicer person than he is oK

[ethansoft]

Strawberries and cigarettes part 2 (ED)

The morning after y/n gave Ethan her phone number at the beach, all he could think about was how soon was too soon to text her. He sat staring at her contact information in his phone, wondering if she’s waiting for the text, as much as he’s waiting to send it. He doubts it. As always, Grayson is there to interrupt his deep thought, smacking the back of his head, “just fucking text her, you nerd,” Grayson laughed. “Shut up, Gray. It’s not that serious. I’m not nervous, I’m just... thinking,” Ethan replies. He’s lying, and it’s obvious. “Wow, when did my brother turn into such a little bitch?” Grayson asks rhetorically as he pours the milk in his cereal.

Ethan tapped the text app, and typed her name into the “to:” field. He felt his heart rate quicken. “Hey, it’s Ethan. Got anything going on today? I still want to go pick out a book at the library and you said you’d help. I’m holding you to that.” As he pressed the send button, he immediately clicked the lock button on his phone and turned it face down so he couldn’t see when her response came through. Rejection is one of Ethan’s bigger fears, he had dealt with it all too many times growing up. Before he could let his mind wander to a place he didn’t want it to go, he decided to get up and rinse his bowl out and load the dishwasher, he didn’t want to seem to eager to answer y/n’s text message, if she had even responded in the first place.

After the kitchen was swept, the dishwasher loaded, the food in the pantry organized, and all appliances and countertop space was washed down, Ethan finally decided to check his phone

Y/n: hmmm, not too busy. But Ethan who? I don’t know an Ethan.

Ethan rolled his eyes and let a chuckle out. He really likes her. He barely knows her, but he really does like her.

Ethan: the really handsome guy who approached you at the beach last night. Super funny and charismatic, talked you into giving him your phone number by some divine miracle. Ring any bells?

Y/n: hmmm, I guess maybe a little. Meet me at 3 at the library.

Butterflies fluttered in Ethan’s stomach as he reread the text over and over before replying.

Ethan: that’s perfect. I’ll see you then.

He replied and then set his phone. Rubbing his face with his hands, trying to figure out how the hell he would release the anxious energy he had before 3 o’clock. He looked at his phone to check the time. It was only 10:30 in the morning. He let out a heavy sigh. “This is going to be a long day,” he said to himself.

********

It’s 2:30, and Ethan has cleaned the entire apartment from top to bottom, went for a run, showered and organized his closet. Of course now, he was ready for a nap, but he had to head to the library to meet y/n.

Upon arriving, he sees y/n sitting on the steps outside of the library, nose in a book, which he’s coming to realize must be a normal thing for her. As Ethan approached her she looked up from her book, then back down to stick her bookmark in to mark her page. Ethan silently wonders why she still reads paperbacks when there’s a whole world of electronics out there that wouldn’t require her to bookmark her page or make the trip out of her house every time she wants a new book, but that’s a question for a different day. “Hey,” Ethan is the first to speak. “Hey,” she responds, putting her book inside her purse and standing up.

“So, what are your interests?” Y/n asks as they aimlessly wander through the library aisles. “Uh, I like lots of stuff...,” Ethan responds racking his brain for a good answer. “Uhh, well, okay then...,” y/n responds. “I like, well...,” Ethan looks around to see if anyone else is around them and then proceeds to whisper to her. “Romance. I haven’t read a book in a long time, so I can’t say I particularly love romance novels. But when I’m alone, I do find myself watching more romantic comedies than I’d like to admit.,” he can’t believe he’s telling her this. This is something that he has always kept between him, and his Netflix account. “But I like anything full of action too, because you know, I’m tough... and a man.” Ethan says while flexing his arms as if to show her he’s strong. “Interesting,” y/n says hiding a smile. “I like that. Okay. I think I can help you out. But first, check your fragile masculinity at the door.” Ethan laughs at her response.

After about a half hour of searching for the perfect book, y/n hands Ethan a copy of the Great Gatsby. “Here,” she says. “It’s romantic, and interesting, and a classic. I think you’ll like it.” Ethan flips the book around and reads the description printed on the back. “Hmm, sounds good. I’ll give it a try.” They sit in an awkward silence for a minute. Ethan is racking his brain to find a way to make this last longer. He needs to spend more time with her. But he can’t find a good excuse to keep her from leaving the library and he’s too nervous to flat out ask her if she wants to go get food with him, or go for a walk, or just let him watch her browse the library for an hour. Although he would happily do all of those things. “Well, you’ll have to let me know what you think of the book. I’ll be curious to see how you like it. It’s one of my favorites. The newest film adaptation isn’t all that bad either. I suggest you watch that as well, after you finish the book of course.” She shifts back and forth between the balls of her feet and her heels and Ethan can tell she is a little nervous as well, which brings his anxiety level down just enough to where he could speak again. “Cool, thank you for all your help. Maybe we can watch the movie together?” He asks, while wondering where his courage came from. “Yeah, maybe...” y/n says with a wink. “I’ll see you later, Ethan Dolan. Enjoy your day.” She said walking away from him.

*****

Ethan found himself doing nothing but reading the entire evening, he looked at the clock and it was almost midnight, and he had two chapters left. His emotional attachment to characters he’d only known for about 7 hours had him absolutely baffled. The way he felt for Jay, the way he couldn’t decide how to feel about Daisy, his frustration but love for the story in its entirety was something that was beyond his comprehension. He never knew how much he could enjoy someone’s storytelling. He wanted so badly to text y/n and express how he was feeling, knowing she would understand. But at the same time, stating his feelings had never been his forte, even explaining feelings about fictional characters intimidated him.

It wasn’t that Ethan was hard, or unfeeling, it was just that he had to grow up faster and live a harder life than most people. That in turn, had transformed him into the person he was today. Someone who worked hard, and did what he had to do to survive. It had always been him and Grayson against the world, ever since he could remember. His parents had been completely nonexistent during their childhood, they had been ripped from their home, placed in foster care, separated on numerous occasions and things didn’t come easy to them and they had gotten used to fighting. Fighting to stay together and fighting to live a decent life, and now as young adults, they had no one but each other, and a small group of friends that had become almost like family. But through all of that, Ethan had acquired a tough exterior, one that intimidated people even when he didn’t want to. Inside he was soft, but he wouldn’t admit that to himself; let alone the world. And texting a girl his feelings about a book that he had binge read, was a little too soft for his liking. But that’s what y/n did, she made him soft. He barely knew her, but from the moment they exchanged their first words, he knew that she could get him wrapped around her finger just as easy and she had gotten him to come over and talk to her. It was terrifying and exhilarating all at once.

As Ethan laid in bed that night thinking about Jay and Daisy, he was overcome with emotion and had so much to say. He needed to talk to someone about this book and the way it made him feel. And he needed to see her. Somehow he missed her presence. They had had a nice day, and he needed to feel the way he felt around her again, this instant. It couldn’t wait any longer. God, how did this girl he had known a total of 24 hours have this much power over him already. He couldn’t understand it, but instead of trying to do so, he conjured up the courage to text y/n.

Ethan: hey, you up?

Y/n: yeah... what’s up?

Ethan: I’m coming over. Meet me outside in 15 minutes.

Y/n: my roommates and I are having a girls evening in, no boys allowed, sorry pal.

Ethan: no reason to apologize, I’m not asking to come in. I’m asking you to come out. Finished the book. Need emotional support.

Y/n: I wish you could see how hard I rolled my eyes at your text. Surprised they aren’t stuck there. Come to the back alley. I’ll try to sneak out.

Ethan: on my way.

A/n: I promise from here on out it’s going to get longer and better, but I just wanted to update for the people who have asked! Let me know what you think, feedback is encouraging and makes me want to write more because I’m a dumb bitch who needs validation anyway ily guys goodnight

#ethan dolan #grayson dolan #dolan twins #ethan dolan x reader #ethan dolan fanfic

[dreamwritesimagines]

Twisted [Spencer Reid x Reader]

A.N.: So, here we go! 😁 Thank you so much for your wonderful support and lovely messages during my break my loves, they mean so much to me and ily! ❤ On my break, I binged a lot of shows, and Criminal Minds and Prodigal Son were two of them, but if you haven’t watched them don’t worry because it will not be following a specific canon plot😁❤Please let me know what you think and enjoy!❤

Warnings: Murder, drug use, serial killers, violence, manipulation

Summary: No one can choose their family.

If it were another time, you could’ve at least attempted to convince yourself how everyone had problematic childhoods. Focusing on something else usually worked, per the advices of countless psychiatrists your mother had forced you to go after the-

Incident.

Just the thought of it was more than enough to make your blood freeze in your veins, but you were soon snapped out of your thoughts when your phone started ringing. You checked the caller I.D, and heaved a sigh before you touched the screen.

“Hello?”

“Please tell me you’re not going there.” Your mother’s voice filled the car and you pressed your lips together.

“Hi mom.”

“Every time you go there and visit that man in that wretched prison cell of his, he manages to get into your head!”

“That’s not what’s going to happen,” you said, keeping your eyes on the road, “You have no reason to worry.”

“I have every reason to worry!” she snapped, “We promised that we wouldn’t let him worm his way into our lives.”

“Yeah well, FBI begs to differ,” you forced yourself to say, “You’ve seen the news—“

“I don’t want to hear this,” she cut you off, then heaved a sigh, “It’s terrible enough to hear it once, let alone twice.”

You never really had the luxury of ignoring all the terrible things on the news, especially after what had happened. Ever since you were a child, the nightmares wouldn’t leave you alone, and you weren’t as good as your mother at ignoring what was happening while you were awake.

“You could’ve said no.”

“I really couldn’t,” you mumbled and she clicked her tongue.

“Well then,” she said, trying to pull herself together, “I expect to see you at brunch, even your sister is coming. It won’t take long, will it?”

“It won’t take long to see my serial killer father and find out whether he is helping another serial killer even if he’s been behind bars for years?” you asked, “No mom. It shouldn’t take long.”

“Sarcasm will give you wrinkles.”

“Oh yeah, tragedy.”

“Call me as soon as you leave there,” she insisted, making you smile. “Promise me.”

“I promise,” you said as you pulled over in front of the building. Even the sight of it was enough to make your stomach flip and you felt the bile climbing up your throat.

You did not want to see him.

You had managed not to see him for years now, but now, the news were full of different coverage about a killer whose method of killing was very similar to him.

A flower left in the crime scene, every damn time.

Naturally, FBI wanted a word with the original killer. Less naturally, the original killer refused to speak unless he talked to his younger daughter, who happened to be you.

Unfortunately.

Yet, the sooner you walked in, the sooner you would walk out, and that was the only thing that offered any kind of consolation.

“God damn it,” you mumbled to yourself as you left your car, and made your way into the building. They patted you down, made you go through the x-ray and sign the papers before you entered the hall.

There were two men that weren’t in official prison guard clothes, which made you think these were the FBI agents you had talked to on the phone. For some reason, you hadn’t pictured them like this, but you didn’t know any agents so maybe this was the norm.

If it were any other time, you could’ve noticed how handsome they both were, but your mind was way too occupied.

“Ma’am,” the dark haired one stepped closer to you, “I’m Special Agent Luke Alvez, this is Dr. Spencer Reid.”

Even if Agent Alvez looked like the ideal FBI agent that was pulled out of an action movie, Dr. Reid looked more like a young, handsome professor, the ones that you dreamed would be at your university when you were still at high school.

Needless to say, that fantasy hadn’t come true much to your disappointment.

You shook your head, trying to focus.

“Y/N, it’s nice to meet you.” You shook hands with him, and smiled at Dr Reid, “Hello.”

“Thank you for coming.” His smile was soft, much like his gaze, “I imagine it’s not easy for you.”

You forced yourself to shrug, “Yeah it’s…” you trailed off and cleared your throat, “It’s fine.”

“So far we have seen five murders all over the country, in different areas but the crime scene has your father’s signature. It most likely means there are multiple copycat killers, and given your father’s past, he might be the mastermind behind it. He contacted us, but refuses to say anything unless he spoke to you.”

The goosebumps rising on your arms felt almost familiar.

“I haven’t been educated in any interrogation techniques.” You said, “And knowing him, he’s not just going to give that information to me.”

“People give information about a lot of things even when they don’t realize it.” Dr Reid said, “We will be outside, watching and listening.”

“I’ll talk to the guards to see if he’s ready, excuse me.” Alvez said and he walked away while you nibbled on your lip.

“How does a serial killer have this many privileges?” Reid asked you, “He has a private cell, books, TV…”

“Money,” you said slowly, “Money buys lawyers, lawyers buy freedom. Or the closest thing to freedom, given the circumstances. If you ask me, he should’ve been rotting in a hole but...” you trailed off, leaning back to the wall and took a deep breath, counting in your head.

“That’s a good exercise to calm down,” Reid said and your head shot up.

“What?”

“The 4 7 8 breathing exercise. I’m guessing a psychiatrist taught you that.”

“Several psychiatrists taught me that,” you stated, raising your brows, “You’re observant aren’t you professor?”

“Doctor.”

You clenched an unclenched your fists, your eyes darting around the hall,

“This is not helping,” you said as you exhaled a breath, “I need a cigarette, or twenty.”

“What do you do?” his question was so out of nowhere that you gawked at him for a moment.

“What?”

“What do you do?”

“I’m a— I’m a wedding planner.”

He tilted his head, “What’s that?”

“Well you…you know, you help the couples with color palettes, decoration, overall aesthetic, and during the wedding you make sure nothing goes wrong with the venue and the food and the music, all that. You make sure the wedding is perfect, basically.”

He hmmed, “How do I tell if a wedding is perfect? If we were talking sense wise?”

“Well first of all, in terms of looks, the colors need to complement each other,” you said, remembering your favorite events, “When you walk in, you see the garden and it’s well lit, but not too bright. In terms of touch, I guess you would make sure the table covers and such are soft to touch. The music should be slow at first, at least until it starts.”

“How about smell?”

“You can’t really go wrong with faint flower scents. Scented candles are a nice touch too.”

“The food?”

“Something light, most of the time. No one wants to get into a food coma at a wedding and you—“ you stopped as your eyes snapped up to his, a small smile playing at his lips.

He was making you list all the things that would ground you without making you realize you were doing it, so that you wouldn’t lose yourself in panic. It was yet another trick your psychiatrists had told you to do whenever you felt overwhelmed, talking about what you could see, hear, smell, touch and taste. By making you focus on a pleasant memory and remember all those, he was offering you a safe place in your own mind.

But contrary to any doctor, he didn’t make it obvious.

“Well played, professor.”

This time, he didn’t correct you,

“Grounding works most of the time,” he stated as Agent Alvez approached you, “I know this situation is less than ideal, but we will be right outside. You can walk out any time you want.”

“They’re ready.” Agent Alvez said and you nodded, trying to ignore the way your heart was slamming against your chest, then followed them to the door. Alvez opened the door for you, and you stepped inside, digging your fingernails into your palm.

His hair had more grays since you had last seen him, and his beard was longer, but that dangerous light in his eyes hadn’t changed. He looked up, a wide smile appearing on his face as his eyes searched yours.

“Sweetheart!” he said cheerfully, raising his hands a little so that you could see the chains attached to his handcuffs, “It’s been a while, wouldn’t you say?”

Pretending to be calm was something you had practiced so many times that your body knew automatically what to do. The door closed behind you and you swallowed thickly, making sure your face didn’t show any feelings. You slowly approached the table to pull yourself a chair, then put your phone on the table and started the countdown.

He wanted five minutes, and you would be damned if you stayed there a second longer.

“You look so much like your mother,” your father shook his head, “It’s uncanny, really.”

You gritted your teeth, still glaring at him.

“Not your eyes though,” he smiled, “You got your eyes from me. The window to the soul, hm?”

“My soul has nothing to do with you.” The words left your lips before you could stop them and he tut tutted.

“My petal-“

“Don’t call me that,” you cut him off, “I hate that nickname.”

That didn’t seem to break his enthusiasm though, much to your displeasure.

“Well, we should catch up,” he said , clapping his hands together, “Are you still with that young man from last year? He’d better be treating you well.”

You blinked a couple of times, “How did you-?”

“I have my sources too.”

“Your sources are slow then.” You stated, “We broke up months ago. Is that all? You brought me here to just talk about my personal life?”

“Why did you break up?”

“Are you really behind all these murders happening right now?” you asked back and he shot you a reprimanding look.

“None of that right now, petal. Business and family shouldn’t be merged, as you know.”

You felt like you would throw up, but managed to hold it together and stole a look at the countdown.

“Why did you break up?”

“Certain differences,” you said, cracking your fingers to distract yourself, and he leaned back.

“I get that,” he said, “If you’re different, you’re different. I always felt that with your mother—“

“Stop that.” You spat out, “Anything I do, including my relationships, it has nothing to do with you. I’m nothing like you.”

“Oh but you are,” he said, “It’s all in your eyes. In that deadly glare of yours. It’s there, isn’t it? That anger? Try to hide it as much as you want, it’s still burning you.”  

“There’s nothing burning me,” you said, “You’re fucked up, doesn’t mean I am too.”

“You know, there are many scientists that say murder is in the genes,” he stated, “So it would mean you’re contaminated too, no?”

The panic was pounding through your system, but you managed to keep your expression stable.

“Do you know why I didn’t ask your sister here? Or hell, your mother? Do you know why it is you?”

You stayed silent, your gaze focused on him.

“Your sister loved your mother, but you…. You were always such a daddy’s girl.”

“Wrong.”

“I don’t even think you cried for your mother whenever you scraped your knees, it was always me.”

“I didn’t know you were crazy when I was a child, guilty as charged. Doesn’t prove anything.”

“It does,” he said, “It proves more than you know. You are going to be my legacy.”

A cold shiver ran down your spine but you took a deep breath, resting your palms on the steel desk.

“No I won’t,” you said calmly, “Sorry to disappoint. I never killed anyone.”

Your father’s smile was almost as serene as your voice.

“Yet,” he pointed out, and you felt your throat tightening. “Ignore it if you want. It’s still there, petal.”

The beep of the phone made you snap out of it and you pushed your chair back, knocking it over in the process.

“Fuck you,” you said through your teeth as you gripped the door knob, “Have fun rotting in here.”

You swung the door open and stepped outside, still trying to catch your breath, and the door next to the interrogation room opened before Reid stepped into your vision. Your hands were still shaking and you desperately needed a cigarette and some fresh air.

But what you really needed was to get out of there.

“Y/N?”

“I hope you got whatever you guys needed,” you managed to say, wiping at your nose, “Because I’m never stepping a foot here, ever again.”

With that, you walked out of the hall, every cell in your body screaming at you to get away. You ignored the looks from the guards, tears blurring your vision and you left the building as fast as you could, as if someone was chasing you.

As if that could help you escape him.

Chapter 2

Taglist: @rhabakoli​ @theskytraveler​ @danyka-fendyr​ @alwaysadreamingoptimist​   @lettersofwrittencollective​ @dreamers-wonderland​ @lilliannaansalla​ @propertyofpoeandbucky​ @iblogabout-stuff​ @thinemineours​ @itsmyblogandillreblogifiwantto @davnwillcome​ @chibi-liz05​ @demigoddesofchimichangagod​ @finnickfoxes​

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid imagines #spencer reid x you #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds imagines #mgg #dr spencer reid #matthew gray gubler #reid x reader #reid imagine #reid imagines #twisted

[celestialstress]

Sorry @cas-is-a-hunter​ I accidentally deleted the post, thank god for google docs

Well Quindlen, Quinndiana Jones, buddy, chum, pal your literally all my asks almost all the time thank you ily

This is for my and @itzshira‘s superhero au so they did help me tysm bean, bless

20 head cannons per character because all would be to much (200 in all)

And I will only be doing the ships in a separate post because I can

Roman

A tall boi at around 6’1, tallest boi

High school jock? High school theater nerd? Practices fencing in high school? Yes!

Flirty boi, and will look up at you with a wink well kissing your hand

Quality gentleman but will talk about himself a bit to much on the first date

His tongue pokes out slightly well he is working on stories or reading scripts

Plays the guitar

Quick to anger but will feel bad after, potentially spoiling their boyfriend after they fight unless he knows he's right or is still mad

Has a big family and is the oldest sibling, his siblings steal his Disney stuff and a dog named Princess

His eyes are brownish red but look red in curtain lighting

He and Remy have sleepovers where they will go to the mall spend like $200 and come home with a fashion show for the other

Over protective, but not in a bad way, yes yes there is a bad way (checking of texts and stuff that can make the other uncomfortable are the bad way)

Has made a comic but doesn't show anyone because he is scared of their reaction

“this is my lap now I have claimed it as a seat, best throne in the house”

Favorite video game, card game, and board game? Dance Dance Revolution, Uno, and Battleship

Tends to look up well thinking, leaning back on his heels as he does

Will overwork himself but not as often due to his beauty sleep schedule

Usually will tease and joke but is good as ‘reading the room’ and will become serious if need be

An overthinking child, but usually only when they are stressed

He will talk out his feelings but will sometimes hide things he thinks he can handle or are insecure about

VERY gushy about any crush he has “you'll see I'm their prince charming” and stuff like that

Virgil

Another tall boi at around 5’10, second tallest boi even if he slouches

His hoodie is oversized and baggy but it looks great

Sleep? No scrolling through tumblr for hours, same amount of nightmares, but those I can scroll past

His dad is bi and he the two live with his step dad and step brother Thomas

Fight or Flight? Leans more towards Fight

Has a little shadow wolf pup named Fang

Just moved here this year

Has quiet anger, going silent with everyone especially the person he is mad at.

When Virgil found out he had a crushed he probably (hopefully lightly) banged his head in a wall then face planted on his bed yelling "Ahhhhh" into it for knows how long

If anyone asked if he had a crush, even if they didn't specify the crush's name, he'd get defensive and refuse. Though you could probably tell he was lying

He is very bad at opening up to others, he does try but it's hard

Bites his fingernails, to be more specific his right thumbs nail

Walks to and from school with Roman, having usually playful arguments on the way

Favorite video game, card game, and board game? Fallout 4, Mafia, and Connect Four

Plays the piano and has learned half of his playlist on it as well as meme music

Roman has entered into his house when it was dark forgetting about a sleepover, just to walk in hearing Virgil playing horror music, or megalovania

But he is also teaching Patton how to play piano, they just started though

His playlist is larger than Roman's ego

Has gotten in a debate with Logan about crocs, no one left happy

Yes yes he does have his pet spider we love her, her name is Luna

Logan

Kinda tall boi at around 5’6, one things for sure, his stance is straighter than he is

Nervous glasses and tie adjusting

Used to be homeschooled

Someone please get this boy a more understanding mother, please our boy needs to understand that he isn't a failed and can relax

Gets really confused when it comes to emotions that aren't an everyday occurrence

Will stay up for days on end rewriting his paper, his cat doesn't help

The oldest in the group, and will use that to get the others to listen to him

Has an older brother who moved out right when he was 18, cutting off all communication with the family

Don't lie to him, he can literally read your thoughts

Nearsighted

Was in debate but almost got kicked out for yelling falsehood to much, so he uses the extra time to hang out with friends

He doesn't like to be held, most of the time at least, he does have his moments

When he has a crush he doesn't realise it and will question himself wait why did I share my crofters sandwich with him? Sure he didn't have a lunch but my crofters

Favorite video game, card game, and board game? Portal, Solitaire, and Risk

His selfview gets shattered by a douche named Richard (thank you Shira for the fitting name)

His dad works at home and is usually in his office

Well if one thing is for sure, Logan doesn't handle being upset very well, just don't get them silently mad

He has a hard time passing at classes and when he finally did traded it out for college courses

The smart boi will strategies things, but if one thing goes wrong he will have a very hard time functioning

Rarely flirts but can't take a flirt at all, unless they are mad then don't try but Logan.exe crashing is easy when he is relaxing

Patton

Smolest boi at around 5'1, he loves his height because he loves the tall slouched hugs of his friends.

Commonly wears oversized sweaters and shorts rather than a cardigan and sweater tied around his shoulders

This child is great at sewing, and made the other beans costumes using Roman and Remy's designs

Parents are usually on business trips and rarely home

Also still believes in Santa because “how would gifts get here if my parents aren't here for Christmas” thank you Roman

Has a pet hamster named Mr. Squeakers the first name is Sammy

Patton is more supportive than protective, though when he feels he needs to will block an attack or stand in the middle of a fight (which is more often than not)

He likes to be picked up, and really doesn't care by who most times

Probably has glitter or marker somewhere on him at all times

Farsighted

A cuddler, especially when he is tired, he will cuddle up to one of his friends or a doll and fall asleep

He can bake but not cook, don't let him cook

His hair is a curly mess no matter how much he brushes it

Favorite video game, card game, and board game? Animal Crossing, Go Fish, and Candy Land

He does have his cat hoodie but he usually wears it one or two days a week and as pajamas until he can or remembers to get it washed for school again

He was in gymnastics and is a very flexible child

Him and Roman were childhood friends

Will play connect the dots with the freckles on his arm when he's bored

Spends most of his day out of the house doing nothing in particular

When he realizes he has a crush is usually quickly after he gets one and his face goes pure red but he's happy about it

Deceit

Kinda tall boi at around 5'8

A very sarcastic child, usually when he is lying

This bean has vitiligo and it is mostly where his scales would be

Heterochromia as well, one green and one brown eye

Will confusedly shake gifts before opening them if he randomly received them

Has played a game of patty cake in a closet, probably the strangest experience he's had but he enjoyed it

Uses his magic to cheat on tests

Will poke out his tongue when annoyed

Upset Dee is not a Dee you want to deal with they can be very hostile unless they like you

Wears at least two bracelets everyday

An ace boi who we love

He loves his hat, his hat was a gift from his parents and he rarely takes it off

Literally changed some of his wardrobe to match said hat

Favorite video game, card game, and board game? Skyrim, Town Of Salem, Jenga

First to learn to drive

He plays the flute, and loves to play simple yet pretty melodies on it

He doesn't like parties but he won't say no if invited, though he usually stays near his friend or where there is the least amount of people

Will sometimes steal something small at parties

He has a pet garden snake named Luka, Luka is a good danger noodle who likes to chill in pockets

Usually wears colored contacts to school to hide his different eye colors

Emilie

Second shortest boi at around 5’3, and he hates his height wanting to be taller

Talking to himself during movies and shows? Yes

A nervous flirter most times but we stan

A lot stronger then he looks, and his sweaters don't help lol

He has a defensive anger and will argue easier when mad, or give them questions to make them shut up so he can leave

Will hide out by himself when mad or nervous as well

An easily jealous bean but we still love him

He loves to cook and is a good cook

Has more sweaters then I have friends

Just barely bad enough nearsightedness to make it so he needs glasses

He used to have fake glasses though now he hates his real ones

Plays the violin and learned the Steven Universe songs

Is a lucky bean, gets a TV in his room

Favorite video game, card game, and board game? Kingdom Of Hearts, Exploding Kittens, and Mancala

Holding hands and hugs are a given

Has little action figures and dolls around his room

Bold of you to assume he doesn't have way to many onesies for one person

Shops at hot topic for the fandom merch, but brings Remy because they enjoy everything there

Has a few posters scattered around his room but they are the cloth ones

He is very quick to self blame for instances and think “maybe if I did this-”

Remy

A medium height child at around 5'5, wears five inch heels to add on

Wears crop tops most often but idk where I got that idea from

Doesn't sleep and binge watches cartoons a lot

Addicted to coffee, and will shake without it after a while

Has and will just insult someone who is throwing punches at them and insult said person rather than actually fight in some cases

Their hair is a mess most of the time due to sleeping in and not having time to fix it

They live with their dad, their mom walked out on the family when they were five

They have Aniridia, and are almost always seen wearing sunglasses and watching shows for long periods of time can and is difficult

Has a very hard time opening up about anything, it takes a lot of trust

I guess you could say they've experienced a lot because I don't want to get into it but some of it involves alcohol and parties

Has played seven minutes in heaven once and they ended up literally playing patty cake in the closet because making out wasn't specified

Bold of you to assume they don't have a Scottish Fold, and bold of you to assume her name isn't Belle

Secretly watched all of SU and Adventure Time

Favorite video game, card game, and board game? Mario Kart, Cards Against Humanity, and Blokus

Their eyes have a gold ring around where the pupils should be when they use their magic canceling ability

Will either sleep for a whole day or not sleep for weeks

Has two leather jackets but most commonly wears their more warm out one rather than the newer one

Is the kid who pulled the fire alarm in elementary school

They are really good at rollerblading/ice skating

They ran out of coffee once after almost a week of no sleep and just shut down completely in class

Remilie

They will carry each other, even if Remy is taller, Picani is stronger and Remy is lighter than they seem.

Cuddles on the couch watching SU after making or buying brownies, depends on how lazy they are that day

Remy doesn’t know weather to be amused or annoyed with how people get so confused on the relationship

If they were to propose they would both have a ring ready on the date but Emilie would manage to get it out first, and Remy would just sit there in a excited shock as they pull out the ring they were gonna use

Sharing clothes is common between the two, even if their styles are completely different

The first time Remy took off their heels next to Picani he made a short joke, even if he’s shorter

Emilie will sometimes gain the confidence to flirt without being embarrassed which causes Remy to be even more flushed (less aww but more holy crap)

Remy rarely swears in front of Picani, it just doesn’t feel right to them

Picani keeps their house lights dim when ever Remy comes over so they can keep their sunglasses off

“Remy..? What are you doing..?” “mixing five hour energy, redbull and coffee” concerned Picani noises

Remy will sometimes bring their cat to Picani’s house without telling him beforehand, just because “I didn’t want Belle to be home alone”

Picani got rid of his coffee maker to try to help Remy stop drinking coffee

Remy still manages to somehow get coffee without leaving his house

Picani and Remy make small deals to slowly help the other with their insecurities “I’ll let you borrow my jacket if you can at least try to complement yourself more”

They really don’t fight until one can’t bottle it up anymore and the other impulsively responds

Remy jumping towards Picani not realising he had a drink and him dropping his tea just to catch them

Picani does need some help reaching the higher shelves where Remy will just climb onto the counter

Picani doesn’t want to push Remy to talk and Remy rarely wants to say what’s wrong or something that has happened

Picani is usually the first to initiate a hug, where Remy is usually the first to hold his hand

The insecurities of one is ome of the things that the other loves most about them (Remy’s pure black eyes and Emilie’s talking to themself during movies)

Logince

Forehead touching, and a soft kisses? Yss

One of them will usually give the other random facts of the day

“a rose by any other name would smell just as sweet-” “the rose was the theater next to the Shakespearean theater and it had a sewage problem causing it to stink that was made to mock it” “Logan why-?”

Star gazing on cool summer nights with a warm blanket in a hammock

Roman is really bad with roller coaster drops and will cling onto Logan

Roman is the type of boyfriend who will steal the fries from your plate

Logan enjoys Roman’s random bursts of inspiration where he will excitedly talk about ideas for an hour

Taking dance lessons together

Neither of them will let the other touch their hair unless they are tired enough

Small play tickle fights were Roman will sometimes purposely let Logan win

Roman does try to carry Logan it usually doesn’t end in his favor

The two do tend to fight, as all relationships do, but afterwards they will silently talk it out on the couch until they feel better or at least understand it better

Game nights on fridays

They both refuse to give up on a game of monopoly that has taken them two years so far

Roman will never admit it but he will play D&D with Logan

Watching Doctor who on the couch cuddling with a bowl of popcorn in between them? Definitely

Roman was the first person to see Logan cry, and Logan would be one of the first people who get Roman to talk about his insecurities

Roman is a flirty boi Logan.exe crashing is common (idk why I phrased it like this)

Debates on who's magic is stronger, it ends in more of a tie because neither of them will choose themself

Gentally cuffing the other ones face when they are upset so they would look at them? Yep

Moxiety

Virgil gives Patton piggy back rides

Patton tries to give Virgil piggy back rides but it doesn't work out to well

They have a movie night once a week, one gets to choose the movie every other week

Patton gives Virgil a lot of gifts but will feel bad at times when Virgil gives him gifts because “I have nothing to give you in return”

They will doodle on each other, sometimes just sit there for hours silently drawing on one another

Virgil will sometimes bake with Patton, learning a few cookie recipes from doing so

“okay I'm not letting you cook you usually end up burning yourself, I got this”

Playing with eachothers hair, messing it up and sometimes fixing it

Dancing with each other in the living room when no one else is there

The best hang out moments is when it's raining and they are sitting inside with hot chocolate

Virgil is more protective over Patton, because he knows Patton isn't one to fight people

Patton will sometimes put hair clips in Virgil's hair so he can see both of Virgil's eyes

Hugs are very common unless Virgil states he isn't in the mood to have a hug

Patton found out Virgil was being bullied and refused to leave his side at school even if it means being a bit late to class

“I won't leave your side not tell you won't get hurt and until you love yourself, even then I'm here to stay”

Neither of them really flirt but they do make crappy puns to see the other laugh

Patton borrows Virgil's hoodies and has a few overly sized hoodies in case Virgil wants to borrow them

Patton's ability let's him know when Virgil is upset so he will help Virgil as much as he can to feel better

Virgil took them to an amusement park on their six month anniversary

At the mall Patton would be shamefully holding Virgil's hand, and vice versa. They go to stores that they've been wanting to go to. It's not much shame it's just the world is still not as accepting as they could be of lgbtq+

#virgil sanders #virgil #roman sanders #roman #logan sander #logan #patton sanders #patton #deceit sanders #deceit #remy sanders #remy #dr. picani #emilie picani #emile picani #picani #remilie #remile #picaremi #sanders sides #thomas sanders #head cannon #head canon

[flyingsculptures]

50 Questions Tag

Tagged by @sadienita​, ur wonderful and ily

1. What takes up too much of your time? Stressing about doing things rather than actually doing them lolol

2. What makes your day better? If it’s been a bad day, then coming home and having a massive vent sesh with my roommate

3. What’s the best thing that happened to you today? My coworkers and I all get along, but this morning everyone was in a really good mood and joking around with each other, it was fun!!

4. What fictional place would you like to go? King Kai’s Planet in dragon ball z, that shit looks peaceful af

5. Are you good at giving advice? sometimes, depending on the topic

6. Do you have any mental illness? I do, issues with depression mostly, but anxiety as well, but things have been SO much better since I’ve gone to therapy and started medication

7. Have you ever experienced sleep paralysis? YEAH BRUH SHITS SCARY

8. What musician inspired you the most? this is gonna sound lame af, but debussy. i’m a classically trained musician and playing his pieces shaped me

9. Have you ever fallen in love? i’ve been in love with someone once, but they didn’t love me back the same way. it hurt but i’m glad i’ve experienced what it’s like to feel that way about someone

10. What’s your dream date? tbh i’m a sucker for coffee dates, but only if i know the other person at least a little bit. otherwise, maybe a museum?

11. What do others notice about you? i dunno, you’d have to ask them i guess, but i’ve been told i can be stubborn and that i care too much

12. What is the annoying habit you have? sometimes i can run over the end of peoples sentences in conversations, i think. i promise it’s only bc im excited

13. Do you still talk to your first love? lol NO

14. How many ex’s do you have? two my dude

15. How many songs are on your playlist? binch which playlist, i’m a playlist QUEEN. I think my biggest one has over 300

16. What instruments can you play? i’m a classically trained pianist, started when i was 4 or 5. because i have such a solid theory base, i can usually pick up most things, at least a little bit

17. Who do you have the most pictures of? i have a ton of pictures on my phone rn of my parents when they were super young, but otherwise maybe my roommate?

18. Where would you like to go before you die? i would want to go back to ireland, but i would want to go with my family

19. What is your zodiac? both moon and sun in taurus, ascending in leo *finger guns*

20. Do you relate to it? I don’t know how much i actually believe astrology, but i do know i’m stubborn as hell, and fairly grounded

21. What is happiness to you? watching other people be stupid happy, like not in general, but experiencing something that just makes their face light up

22. Are you going through anything right now? all day erryday

23. What’s the worst decision you’ve ever made? trying to do what made my parents happy instead of what made me happy

24. What’s your favorite store? a local store called Stick it in Your Ear, they sell records and cds and stuff

25. What’s your opinion on abortion? Pro-choice, i can’t tell anyone what to do with their own body

26. Do you keep a bucket list? mmm not really, i don’t like putting that stress on myself lolol

27. Do you have a favorite album at the moment? i listen to playlists rather than albums these days tbh, so i can’t think of any

28. What do you want for your birthday? to see my KC friends, i miss them :(

29. What are most people’s first impression of you? i’ve been told i’m really intimidating when you first meet me, but once u get to know me you’ll just realize i’m a bit different (i’m NoT lIKe oThER GurLS)

30. What age do you seem according to most people? I get told a lot that i’m an old soul, whatever tf that means, i feel like i’m a living meme

31. Where do you keep your phone while you’re sleeping? my mattress is on the floor, so plugged in next to my head

32. What word do you say the most? ”listen”, i tend to start sentences with it

33. What’s the oldest age you would date? probs, like, 26? so about 3, 4 years older

34. What’s the youngest age you would date? i’m gonna be 23 this year, so 21 would be my limit. any younger and they feel like a baby to me

35. What job/career do most people say would suit you? what would SUIT me the most? ur asking me about the thing i’ve struggled w most in my life, IDK

36. What’s your favorite music genre? pretty much anything that isn’t stadium country or absolute shrieking is a genre i’m cool with, but i really enjoy post punk revival, like modern baseball (and then of course kpop lololol)

37. If you could live in any country in the world where would it be? i don’t think i could permanently live anywhere else, i’m too attached to my friends and family

38. What is your current favorite song? Making Breakfast by Twin Peaks

39. How long have you had this blog for? oh goodness, im not sure (i just checked and holy shit i’ve had it since aug 2012, dam)

40. What are you excited for? im not sure, it sounds sad but nothing much right now. i’m kinda just coasting and keeping my head down, which isn’t bad

41. Are you a better talker or listener? i think both, but since i’ve broken out of my shell i tend to do a lot more talking which i’m not super pleased about

42. What is the last productive thing you did? TAXES HELL YEAH MURICA

43. What do you want for Christmas? time, just time

44. What class do you get the best grades in? in high school it was english, college it was design and media classes

45. On a scale from 1-10, how are you feeling right now? a 6 i guess, a bit stressed atm

46. What can you see yourself doing in 10 years? bruh i aint got the foggiest, i didn’t think i’d make it this far

47. When did you get your first heartbreak? i thought it was 18 bu the first genuine heartbreak was 21

48. At what age do you want to get married? idc as long as it’s before 35 tbh

49. What career did you want to have as a child? i thought it was fun to say a marine biologist lolol

50. What do you crave now? falafel. mmmmmmmmmmm 

this was neat, it was almost like a diary entry lololol, i want to hear more from @captainlokispeople @abbyarrgh @verngyu and @cult-of-time tho of course if you don’t want to or don’t have time then all is well!!

#tag game #thank u sadie!! #u always make me feel super important when u tag me in this stuff #i saw that some of our answers were the same too!! #i love learning about people hnnnng

[literallyprentissstwin]

Here to Help! -pt.8

masterlist pt.1 pt.2 pt.3 pt.4 pt.5 pt.6 pt.7

Characters: Spencer Reid, Y/N Y/L/N, the team, Michael, mentions of Soraya 

Warnings: angst, mild violence, hurt/comfort, swearing, fluff

Summary: After the truth has finally been revealed, Y/N and Spencer try to pick up the pieces, together, wanting start over again. Will everything work out? 

A/N: so this is the final part of my series (which actually was not supposed to be a series but whatever :)) and i really hope you´ll enjoy this last part and liked the other parts as well. i would love to hear your thoughts about the series (i love feedback.). thank you to @illegalcerebral and @curlyreid for being there for me when i thought i totally screwed things up and thank you so much for your support! <3 it means the world :) ily all :) 

Spencer felt disgusted as he listened to Y/N telling JJ what she has been going through. He felt angry  at Michael for taking advantage of her like that, but he was also angry at himself for not noticing and helping earlier. Maybe he could have prevented all of this. But, now, it was too late and all he could do was helping Y/N to get through this and not letting guilt eat him up. His heart was breaking as he saw his girlfriend breaking down as she finally let her guard down. Something inside of him snapped and furiously, he ran out of the observation room to go find Michael. He wasn´t through with him yet. At the same moment, Morgan and Hotch walked around the corner, guiding Michael into another interrogation room. 

“You son of a bitch, you won´t get away with this. I swear to god, I..”, Spencer yelled, quickly walking towards the man, ready to beat him into a bloody pile if Morgan would not have stoppede him. 

“Reid..Reid, let go of him. Come on.”, the dark skinned agent said as he pushed himself between the men, “he´s not worth it, believe me.”

Reid breathed heavyly, anger controlling his body. 

“He hurt Y/N in the worst way possible..he needs to get his punishment for that.”

“And he will, I promise you, kid. But it won´t help you or Y/N if you get yourself in trouble now. We will give him what he deserves.”, Morgan tried to console his friend. Spencer sighed.

“You´re just jealous because I got to have all the fun with your little girlfriend while you tried to save the world. Believe me, she was in desperate need of loving since you don´t give it to her.”, Michael said, grinning at Spencer.

“You sick bastard, I will kill you..”, Spencer snapped again and Morgan again needed to push him away. 

“Shut up, Dugan, before I´ll do it myself.”, Aaron said as he grabbed the man roughly at his arms and escorted him into an interrogation room.

Reid tried to push Derek away, but the agent was stronger and kept Spencer in place. 

“I need you to calm down. If you  don´t want to do it for me, do it for Y/N. She´ll need you.”, he tried to talk into Reid´s mind, who finally started to cool down a bit.

“Y-yeah...you´re right. But...I can´t help and feel guilty for what happened. I could have prevented this..”, Spencer rambled as he stepped away from his friend and leant against the wall. 

“No...there was no way for you to know what Michael was capable of. Neither could Y/N know that it would end like this. But the past is the past, it happened and as sad and terrifying it is, you can´t turn back the time to undo it. All you can do is being there for your girlfriend. She´ll need you more than anything right now. Yes, it might be a long way ahead for the both of you, but you´ll have us. We will help you because we´re family. You will make it through, okay?”, Derek said and just as Spencer was about to reply, JJ came up behind him. 

“Spence?”, she carefully said as she put a hand on his shoulder, “Y/N...she is asking for you.” 

And with that, Spencer turned around immediatley to go to Y/N. Just before he was about to enter the room she was in, he looked at Derek, who stood behind with JJ at his side. 

“Thank you!”

About three hours later, Y/N and Reid were finally able to go home. Actually, they would have been home earlier if Spencer wouldn´t have insisted on getting to know what Michael had to say. He watched Hotch and Morgan interrogatin him for 15 minutes before he had enough. The things he said about Y/N made him sick, so he went to go and check on his girlfriend who was waiting for him at the conference room with Penelope and JJ by her side. Since Spencer no longer wasn´t able to follow the interrogation, he at least wanted to see the police officers taking him away to make sure that he would never be able to hurt Y/N again. It took about over an hour until they finished interrogating him and in this time, Y/N had fallen asleep on the little sofa in the room, cuddled up into Spencer. It has been the first time in forever that she actually got to take a carefree nap. Another half an hour later, papers were signed and Michael was escorted away, hopefully forever, at least out of their lives. When he had been sure that he was gone, he carefully tried to wake up Y/N and together, they drove home to their apartment. 

It has been a long time since the both of them had been in there together. Spencer quickly unlocked the door, never letting go of Y/N. He helped her inside and locked the door behind them. He put down the bags they had got from the motel she had lived in early this day. 

“Do you wanna have something to eat?”, Spencer asked as he looked at Y/N who shook her head.

“No, I´m not hungry, but I would like to take a shower and maybe we can watch a movie together afterwards or stay up a little longer and cuddle?”, she suggested, giving Reid a little smile which he returned.

“Sounds good to me. Take your time, I´m not going anywhere.”, Spencer said and slowly kissed her forehead at which she closed her eyes. She forgot what it was like to be actually treated with care. 

“I love you.”, she whispered as she went to the bathroom.

A few minutes later, Y/N joined her boyfriend on the sofe and cuddled up in his side. He carefully put an arm around her.

“So..which movie are we going to watch?”, he asked. 

“Mhhh...I´m in the mood for a Disney one. Can we watch Aladdin? It´s my favorite. Pretty please?”, she begged, her eyes lightening up in excitement at which Spencer smiled. 

“Good, Aladdin it is.”, he said as he got up and put the DVD in and returned back to Y/N´s side. If this would make her feel better, he would watch this movie with her for like the 36th time.

Halfway through the movie, Y/N suddenyl shifted around and sat up, kinda looking caught up in her thoughts. 

“Hey...what´s wrong?”, Spencer asked concerned.

It took a while for Y/N to actually form her thoughts into words, but eventually, she did and it was like a flood was coming.

“I-I´m sorry, Spence. For everything. I really am. I totally understand if you don´t want to touch me anymore because I´m so dirty and disgusting or if you don´t love me anymore b-because I´m not worth you and your time, b-but please, you need to know that I had no choice. I needed to protect you, us. And I-I..”; she continued to ramble as Reid put a finger under her chin to make her look at him.

“Stop.”, Reid said, “there is not need to apologize for what he did to you. I´m not afraid to touch you and I love you with all I´ve got. I never stopped and I never will.”

“B-But how? I´m nothing but broken trash..”, she replied, a few tears slliding down her cheeks. 

“No, you´re not. You might be damaged, but we´ll find a way to bring the pieces back together. And you know what? To me, you are the strongest and bravest woman I ever met and I´m so proud of you. Don´t let this pull you down. Take the obstacles as a chance to grow. I love you so much and I will help fix you up with my love. It will take some time; days, weeks or maybe years to eventually forget about what happened, but in the end, it will only make you stronger. I´m not gonna lie to you, but there will be coming days which will be good, but also some where you will feel bad or nothing at all, but we will walk through them all, together. We´ll fight the evil and hope for the good. I´ll always be by your side. You can make this. You are strong. Don´t you forget about that.”

Y/N smiled at him as more and more tears fell until finally, Reid engaged her into a hug, letting her cry out all the pain and hurt she had experienced the last weeks. Her trust was broken by someone she actually cared about. It would take some time to overcome this, but knowing that she was not alone to face her demons was making everything a little bit better. 

Five months later, Y/N was on her way to meet with Reid at the bureau for lunch. 

A lot had happened in these past few days and weeks. Michael got sentenced to five and a half years in priseon and was not allowed to ever come near Y/N again; he also lost his job as a matter of fact. For Spencer, this sentence was not enough but he guessed that it was better than nothing, so he accepted it. 

Furthermore, the coupld had moved into a new apartment since there were too many bad memories in the old one for Y/N and if she ever wanted to heal, she needed to get rid of all the stressors who caused her nightmares and reminded her of Michael. So Y/N decided, after overthinking a hundred times, to quit her current job, which was a hard decision to made because she loved all of the kids like they were her own. But she needed to move on; so she applied at a new kindergarden, which was smaller than her old one, but also closer to the BAU and the new apartment. Soraya supported her decision and helped to find a new work place. She was shocked at the news of what Michael had done and felt as guilty as Reid. 

In the mean time, Y/N had endless talks with Spencer, but occasionally also with JJ to get whatever was bothering her off her chest. After a while, she also started to see a professional to finally come to terms with everything that had happened to her. From time to time, Spencer joined her at her therapy sessions which meant a lot to her. 

Everything started to turn out to be good. There were bad days, but together, they mad it through. In this passing time, Y/N and Spencer grew together more. This was why Spencer decided to take the final step. 

He was just discussing his plans with his team mates as Y/N entered the bullpen. 

“Hey, what´s this all about?”, she laughed as she saw the agents stand around Spencer closley.

“Y/N..hi.”, Spencer said as he nervously checked his watch, “you´re early.” He quickly tried to hide a tiny little box behind his back, which did not go unnoticed by Y/N. 

“Hey Princess, how are you?”, Derek wanted to know as he came up to her and hugged her.

“I´m good. Work is great and the kids are amazing though I miss my other little ones which I´m going to visit at the end of the week. But, what are you hiding babe?”, she asked as she pointed at Spencer. 

“Nothing...really, it´s work related.”

“Oh...okay, you can do better than that. Just tell me, it can´t be that bad.”, Y/N laughed as she kept looking at him. 

Spencer sighed, but gave in. Now or never, he thought. 

“O-okay...I actually had this all planned out with spending a weekend in New York, seeing the Aladdin musical on broadway and having dinner afterwards, but since you are so impatient, I´ll do it now.”, he said as he pulled the box out from behind him and opened it, revealing a silver ring with a little stone on top. 

Y/N was shocked; she definitley was not expecting that. 

“Y/n, ever since you came in my life, you made me the happiest I could be. You are kind, caring, strong and brave and I admire you so much. You have been through so so much, especially latley, but you never fail to make me smile. I love you more than anything in this world.”, he said before he got down on one knee in front of her, “so, I´m gonna ask you...Y/N Y/M/N Y/L/N? Would you do me the honor of marrying me and becoming my wife?”

Y/N nodded franticcaly, tears streaming down her face. 

“Yes..yes, of course I´ll marry you!”; she replied as she hugged him tightly. All the agent in the bullpen applauded for the couple as Spencer slipped the ring onto her finger before she kissed him. 

“I love you so so much.”, she stottered as she hugged him again. 

“I love you too, more than you´ll ever know.”

And with this, Y/N and Reid started their journey into a whole new world, leaving the past behind them and looking tinto a better future which was hopefully about to come. 

<<Like so many things, it is not what is on the outside, but what is on the inside that counts.>> 

- Disney´s Aladdin 

A/N: I´m actually sad that this series is over now omg :(

Criminal Minds Tag List:

@imagicana @marvelfanlife @illegalcerebral @milkandcookies528 @liz-a-22 @sunreid​  @reidoneshots​  @rachficrecs​

Spencer Tag List:

@littledizzyhurricane @lookingforgalifrey @curlyreid

#criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds reader insert #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid reader insert #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fluff

[nimbooda]

Happy Birthday Darlingey! 😍😍💓 i hope your year would be filled with lots of happiness and amazing memories keeep being yourself, never change be crazyy like you are (okay well one year older so it will increase your crazyness more 😝) i am really happy i got to know you and now you are one of my beststest and closest friend MUAAH💖💖 also because ur one year older this thirst we have for our favs can increase more because hey! We are crazy af 🤤🤤🤤💓 ILY ILY ILY ILYYY 💙💙💙💙💙💗💗💗💗

I ehm.. one second. 

Okay, I’m going to use this moment to reply to all the messages, tweets, gifts and everything you’ve done and written for me yesterday and today. Because I was so overwhelmed by everything you’ve done for me and said to me that I didn’t reply in a proper way yet. So here it goes:

My dearest Ashii,

I want to thank you from the bottom of my heart for giving me the greatest birthday I could ever wish for. I literally didn’t plan anything, because it’s summer and everyone is on vacation. So I didn’t want to celebrate it. I thought I’d just stay home and eat cake with my mom and spend the day listening to music or watching movies or something. But you had a better idea for me: you went to a themepark with me. Going to themeparks is one of my favorite things to do, because I love thrilling rides. So thanks to you I got to spend my birthday doing something I love very much. That too with one of my closest and greatest friends ever: you! We had a blast with all the screaming and singing (!) we did in the rides and in the car. I’ve been having solo parties with my Telugu songs since forever, but with you it was a million times more fun. We also realized we know the lyrics to pretty much all songs on our playlist which made everything funnier. I’ve been to Walibi a billion times (I visit that place at least once every year), but it was never this fun. I will forever cherish the memories of this lovely day. I also can’t believe you managed to make an edit while we were eating together. You told me you were texting your mom when in reality you were making an edit for me for twitter and you were spamming all my favorite actors to make them wish me. You’re something else I swear. 

You are one of the very few people I feel comfortable enough to be my true self. I can literally talk to you about ANYTHING. It doesn’t matter what the topic is. It doesn’t matter if we’re texting or talking in real life: there’s not a slight bit of awkwardness. I can be honest to you and I trust you with my life. That makes me value our friendship even more. You’ve made so much stuff for me. I wasn’t expecting any presents at all, but you made gifsets on tumblr, a gif on twitter and an edit on twitter (I hope I didn’t forget anything, because I am so happy that I can’t think properly). I don’t deserve so much okay. Thank you so much for taking the time to make so much stuff for me. Your gifts killed me, because you giffed my favorite people and songs and that just proves that you listen to me when I’m fangirling and being a hyper child. I say such strange things when I’m hyper and I thought no one would ever remember that stuff, but you do! You giffed the things I’m crazy about. So thank you so much!

Fangirling with you is my favorite thing to do. When we start talking about movies, songs or actors there’s no stopping and NO filter. It helps that we love the same people and we have the same taste in movies. That makes the fangirling a lot easier and more fun. Our fangirling with @mastaani is what I live for. I wake up everyday checking my notifications to see what crazy stuff you’ve said this day. We’re an actual OT3 and I hope and pray we will stay this crazy and close forever. I truly love you both so much. I’ve never cried on my birthday, but you two managed to make me sob like a little child with your love and kind words. 

I honestly don’t even know what to add anymore. There’s so much I am feeling and so much to say, but I can’t find the right words to express it. I just want you to know that you’ve made me extremely happy and I’m forever grateful for everything you’ve done for and said to me these 2 days. You mean so much to me and I wish for you nothing but the best in life. May you find happiness wherever you go and may we stay friends forever. I love you with my whole heart. Thank you Ashii for being not just my friend, but for being like family. I love you 💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖

#Ashii #birthday #birthday2017 #baarishkiduaa #asks #Swati #mastaani #because I feel the same way about you #<3