#for idk maybe she texted her friends embarrassing pictures of herself

[fistraid]

smitten for the new show

#the ghost and molly mcgee #molly mcgee #scratch #darryl mcgee #andrea davenport #also hi anne #TL Note: shes calling molly a brat #for idk maybe she texted her friends embarrassing pictures of herself #or ate her food #real little sister pranks

[watchmegetobsessed]

Hey Daddy - Bucky Barnes

a/n: so this one is a little more... lighthearted? idk but it was based on THIS request!

pairing: Bucky X Reader

word count: 1.9k

summary: You join Peter and his friends for a game of Truth Or Dare but you wish you stayed in your room when MJ challenges you to do a task that will definitely out your secret relationship with Bucky.

masterlist

You totally forgot Peter would have his friends over for the night, so you’re slightly surprised when you find him with Ned and MJ in the kitchen, but it’s a pleasant one. You’ve been spending a lot of time with him, being the youngest of the adults in the tower, you developed a great friendship with the youngster and his friends.

“Oh, hello guys! Good to see you again!” you beam at the three of them, Ned greeting you with a little wave and a stunned smile on his face. Peter has recently revealed that Ned might have a tiny crush on you, which you find cute. Though you’re more than a decade older than him, you find it endearing he is crushing on you out of all the amazing women on the team.

MJ nods in your way as she munches on her sandwich, if you didn’t know her better you’d think she is annoyed by you judging by the look on her face, but you’ve learned by now that this is her default expression, almost a happy one.

“Hi Y/N!” Peter greets you smiling. “How was your day?” he asks lightly. He is such a good kid, knows his manners and cares so much for others. The men in the tower like to tease him about his soft behavior, but you think it’s such a great trait.

“A little tiring. Training kicked my ass today, but it was fine. What are you guys up to?” you ask, grabbing yourself a canned soda from the fridge.

“MJ wants to play truth or dare, but only because she wants to make us do embarrassing stuff,” Peter huffs looking at the girl who just smiles with a shrug.

“Oh, I love that game! Used to play it a lot at parties too!” you smirk, remembering the times you played with your friends in the basement of your mom’s house.

“You want to play with us?” MJ offers.

“If you don’t mind…”

“Not at all!” Peter smiles, happy to have another person join their little group. Glancing at Ned you see that he is now blushing, the tip of his ears turning red as he keeps his eyes fixed on the screen of his phone. Poor kid will have to learn how to function around women sooner or later.

The game starts out quite innocent, it’s not even the wild version where you’re drinking, though it popped into your head to pour yourself some wine. But then you decided to keep it PG rated for the kids’ sake.

But as more and more rounds go down, the tasks and questions are getting a little… spicy. When MJ turns to you and asks you the question of the game and you answer before you could even think about it, you know you are in trouble.

“Dare,” you answer and want to take it back right away, but you don’t want to look like such a pussy. But then MJ smirks at you devilishly and you consider just walking out before she ruins your whole life.

“Alright, text all the other Avengers ‘Hey Daddy’ and read the responses out loud.”

The boys gasp as you press your lips into a thin line, knowing well it won’t end good on your side. Especially because there is one person whose response you would rather not read out loud.

You’ve been close to Bucky since day one and though you both were a little ignorant towards your feelings, a few months ago you finally moved your relationship a little further than just being friends. However you both agreed it’s better kept as a secret, at least until you figure out where you really want to head together as a couple.

Now, if you text that message to Bucky there’s no way he won’t write back something that would bust your asses right away, but you can’t back out now, you can only hope he is busy doing something else and won’t pay attention to his phone.

Pulling your phone out of your pocket you lean onto the kitchen island as the kids start cheering for you being a badass and accepting the task.

“Just hey daddy, that’s all?” you ask as you open your contacts.

“Maybe add a winking face,” Ned suggests and you shoot him a glare that immediately turns his face red as he shuts his mouth.

“The winking face is a good idea,” MJ nods.

“Thanks, Ned,” you mumble under your breath as you start opening the text threads, sending them all the same message. Tony, Nat, Steve, Banner, Clint, Sam, Strange, even Rhodey and at the end of the list… Bucky.

“And what, now we wait?” Peter asks.

“Place the phone here so we see when you get a reply and you’ll read them, we can move on until then,” MJ tells you, bossing you around like you’re not even a highly trained special agent who could take her out in a blink of an eye.

The first reply comes from Nat who just asks if you’re drunk. Then comes Banner, who sounds offended that you think he could be your father, totally missing the point of the text. Tony teases you about always knowing you had a thing for him, Steve kindly tells you he only sees you as a sister, Clint just reads the text and doesn’t reply. Sam just sends a simple “control yourself” message back while Strange threatens you to block you if you send another text like this again. Rhodey doesn’t even reads it.

You start to feel relieved when about twenty minutes pass by and no reply comes from Bucky. The game moves on and you almost start to forget about the whole task when your phone lights up again and your breathing hitches when you see Bucky’s name appear on the screen.

“Oh, another reply!” MJ beams as she urges you to unlock the phone and read the reply. When you do so and see his text, you almost just hop off the stool and run out of the kitchen. You consider saying something else, pretending like he didn’t write what he did, but MJ doesn’t take the bullshit and her patience runs short so she simply snatches your phone out of your hand and reads the text herself.

“I specifically remember you saying you’re not into that stuff. What else are you keeping from me about our sex life?”

You let out a long and tired sigh as the room falls silent and they all just stare at you in confusion before MJ slowly slides the phone back to you.

“Our sex life? There’s… there’s a you and Bucky?” Peter asks quietly, not sure what to do with the new information. An anxious chuckle slips from between your lips as you try to find a way to get yourself out of this massive trouble, but nothing comes to your mind. You’ve fought aliens, assassins, you were captured, tortured, went on a hundred mission in your life, yet now three kids defeated you with a game of Truth or Dare.

“Well, um… It’s a funny story, you know—I don’t… fuck,” you mumble, scratching the back of your neck.

“Are you like… together or is it just a friends with benefits thing?” MJ question, shooting you a curious look.

You don’t get to answer, because just as you are about to open your mouth, the man in talk walks in, a puzzled look on his face, phone in his hand, probably still dwelling on your latest message. His eyes spot you first, but then he realizes that you’re not alone and he freezes. It’s not that Bucky doesn’t like Peter or his friends, he just feels so far away from people these days, let alone teenagers who are about a century younger than him.

“Oh,” he breathes out, slowly walking closer to you. “Hello guys,” he murmurs shyly, trying to put the picture together as his eyes fall back to you and he sees how uncomfortable you are. Before he could get another word out, MJ speaks up and just as always, her raw style doesn’t disappoint any of you.

“Don’t worry, your girlfriend is not really into the Daddy stuff.”

You almost choke on your own breath as you turn to shoot her a glare, your hand moving to grab Bucky’s arm gently, sensing him growing more and more anxious with each second.

“MJ, I don’t think Sergeant Barnes is the right person to joke around with,” Ned mumbles, avoiding to even look at Bucky as you let out an airy chuckle.

“G-Girlfriend? We are not—“ Bucky starts, but you cut him off.

“No use to deny, Buck. They know it.”

Bucky huffs, closing his eyes for a moment before he moves closer to you, his hand coming to rest on your lower back. Despite the absurdity of the situation, this small little gesture makes your heart pitter-patter in your chest.

“Is there any chance this could stay between us, kids?” you ask with a charming smile, turning to the three troublemakers.

“I don’t know, what do we get out of keeping it a secret?” Peter purses his lips, pretending to have the higher ground, but you already know what’s about to come.

Bucky’s vibranium arm snaps to the counter top as he shoots a death glare over to the poor kid and though he definitely looks like he is ready to kill any moment, you know that it’s all just an act.

“How about I don’t rip your guts out, kid? That enough?” Bucky growls and while all three of them take a step back with wide eyes and dry throats, you just shake your head chuckling, placing a hand to his hard chest.

“Buck, no need to go all winter soldier on them. They’ll keep our secret, right?” you ask with an innocent smile and all three of them start nodding wildly, as if they just saw a ghost.

Seeing their reaction you realize it’s better if the game ends here and you let them be on their own. You thank for the fun time before grabbing Bucky’s arm and pull him out of the kitchen, heading up to your rooms.

“You shouldn’t have scared them that badly, Buck,” you scold him, but you still actually find it kind of funny, seeing their pale faces and fearful eyes at your boyfriend’s tough guy act.

“Well, they scare me too sometimes,” he mumbles shrugging. “Especially that MJ girl… she is just… weird.”

You can’t help but laugh at his words, a six feet tall super soldier with a metal arm being scared of a teenage girl with a big mouth, that’s quite an interesting concept.

“Hey,” you stop him before the two of you would part in the hallway. He turns back and his blue eyes soften on you. “Do you want to… sneak into my room?” you ask, biting into your bottom lip as you smirk up at him, sliding a hand up his chest, cupping his cheek in your palm. “We could have some fun… Daddy.”

“Wait, are you really into the daddy stuff?” he asks with wide eyes, making you cackle with your head falling back.

“Just shut up and come to my room,” you chuckle, pressing your lips against his as you pull him into your bedroom, shutting the door closed behind you.

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed it!

#bucky #barnes #bucky barnes #bucky imagine #bucky fanfiction #bucky fanfics #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky x you #bucky barnes x you #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky oneshot #bucky one shot #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes one shot

[cat-induced-fever-dream]

Acquaintances

Pairing: Wanda x Fem!Reader

Genre: Fluff

Description: Wanda meets someone who doesn’t treat her like a villain, but she doesn’t know who you really are.

Notes: I promise it’s fluff and not a trap. Also sorry about my hiatus, I’m just super unmotivated to do anything. So here’s my feeble offering to try and get back into writing.

- - -

Wanda groaned at the sight of a man with a camera. All she wanted was to pop down to the shops, buy some paprika, but alas, even a shopping trip was gold for the paparazzi. Maybe if she hid behind an aisle he would leave. But she heard the door open behind her. Ducking quickly behind a stack of tuna cans, she scanned the rows for the precious package.

She knew she wasn’t the favourite of the public, and the guilt of what she’d done ate her alive every night, but she was sick of being blamed. All she did was try her best, but this was the kind of thanks she got.

She frowned a little when she saw the man round the corner. She steeled herself, not wanting the tears to spring to her eyes. Turning around to face him, she- There was a person talking to him. You had a shopping bag in your hand, so you must have been another customer. Dressed smartly with a blazer, but paired with jeans and sneakers, you looked friendly, but the cold look you gave the man said otherwise. You exchanged words quietly with the reporter, and he seemed to refuse you, turning back to look at her. Realising that this was the perfect stall to get out of the store, she resumed her search. Cumin, Ginger, Paprika! Quickly glancing back to see how long she had, she saw you hand the man a business card as he hurriedly shuffled away.

“Sorry about that,” you turned to her, looking genuinely apologetic.

“Why?” she asked, it coming out harsher than she meant for it to. “It wasn’t even your fault.”

You shrugged. “You don’t deserve it.”

Wanda frowned again at this. She didn’t even know you, but you helped her out, so the least she could do was be polite. “Thanks.”

“No problem,” you smiled. The two of you started to walk towards to counter. More like she did and you kind of happened to as well. “What are you cooking with the paprika?”

Sliding the bag to the cashier, she turned to face you properly. “I was making a traditional Sokovian dish.”

“I’m a big fan of trying different cuisines,” you replied, eyes sparkling with curiosity. “That sounds delicious.”

Wanda’s not really sure why you’re trying to make conversation, but you didn’t seem to have an agenda, so she indulged you with a response as the two of you walked out of the store. “It is, my mum always had the best recipe.”

“Ah well, my parents weren’t around much, so I can’t say the same,” you laughed, throwing your shopping in the back of what must have been your car.

Wanda hadn’t even realised she had walked with you to your car. That was embarrassing. “Well, it was nice to meet you, but I should be going now,” backing away as quickly as she could without making a fool of herself.

“Wait,” you called, “do you need a lift back?”

“You’re a stranger.”

“Well I know your name is Wanda,” you grinned cheekily, opening the passenger door. “And my name is Y/N. Guess we’re not strangers anymore. So, what do you say? It’s the least I could do, with that man bothering you.”

She’s not sure what compelled her to agree, but she found herself sitting in a plush leather seat as you adjusted the rear view mirror. Tapping the dashboard screen, you pulled up a map to Avengers Tower and backed out of the parking lot.

You didn’t seem to mind that she didn’t make conversation, bopping your head gently to whatever pop song was on the radio. Instead she spent the time trying to figure out who you were and why you were being so nice. “It’s rude to stare, you know?” you winked at her.

Wanda felt the heat rush to her cheeks. “Wha- No, sorry,” she mumbled. She’d done it again, made herself look dumb. You giggle, returning your eyes to the road. Trying not to stare at you this time, she observed the fancy watch adorning your wrist, and the sleek interior of the car. You must be a businesswoman of some sort, since this clearly wasn’t your average suburban car. But you were wearing jeans. Maybe a lower level employee than?

She sat there musing, until the door suddenly opened. “We’re here,” you smiled, gesturing at the grand tower that was now her home.

Why couldn’t she stop being so awkward? This was the third time. Unbuckling the seatbelt, she stumbled out, clutching the paprika to her chest. “Thanks again.”

“Anytime, Wanda.” And with a small wave, you hopped back into your car and drove off.

- - -

Heading straight to her room, Wanda abandoned her plans for paprikash. The whole interaction was quite frankly, baffling. No one was ever nice to her, except for the Avengers. But you clearly knew who she was, driving her back to the tower without an address. Tossing her jacket on her bed, she sighed. It’s not like she’d ever see you again. That’s when she noticed the card peeking out from the pocket. There was a phone number printed neatly on it, and a cursive scrawl underneath. “I am actually interested in the dish though. Could I have the name of it?”

She hadn’t exactly interacted with anyone else, so it must’ve been you. Running her thumb over the ink, she was hit with a renewed sense of energy. Grabbing the paprika, she dashed back down the stairs.

- - -

You’re spinning around in your office chair when your phone goes off. Clicking on the message, a small smile makes its way into your face.

Unknown Number: this is the dish i was talking about

Unknown Number: *image*

Unknown Number: it’s paprikash

- - -

“Hey Wanda,” Tony called, a carefully wrapped package in his arms, “this came for you.”

One look at the scarlet wrapping paper, and she knew who it was from. “Thanks Tony,” she said, grabbing it and running to her room.

Setting the package gently on her bed, she untied the ribbon and unfolded the wrapping paper. Nestled in the middle, a box of cookies.

She grinned to herself. Wanda’s been texting you for a couple of months now, and now she could really say that you’re not strangers. She knows that you can’t cook, but you can bake. You’re a businesswoman “of sorts” you say, and that you’re a pretty busy person. But regardless, you hang out with her, chilling in the local coffee shop, going shopping, even just a stroll around the park. She also knows that this happiness she gets when she sees you is definitely not platonic.

Opening the lid, the chocolate aroma wafts into her room. Her favourite of your baked goods. There’s a note tucked into the side of the box, and she delicately pulls it out. “Be my girlfriend?” she read, the handwriting obviously yours. Wait. Be my girlfriend? She sat there dumbly for a couple of seconds before it hit her. You’re asking her to be your girlfriend. Wanda scrambled for her phone, snapping a picture to send to you.

Y/N: those cookies look delicious, who sent them?

The witch rolled eyes at your antics, but played along.

Wanda: idk, but i just got asked out

Y/N: whoaaaa, did you say yes?

Wanda: yes you dumbass

Y/N: okay, under other circumstances that would’ve hurt, but i’m too excited to care right now <3

Wanda: ...

Wanda: did you try to bribe me with cookies?

Y/N: it worked, didn’t it?

Wanda: i can’t believe i actually like you

Y/N: honestly, me too

Y/N: sorry it’s a busy day, but you wanna come over for dinner?

Wanda: sounds good <3

Y/N: i’ll come pick you up, see you then girlfriend

She didn’t want bugs in her room, so Wanda grabbed the box to put in her kitchen cupboard. Balancing a cookie in her mouth, she was about to close the lid, when a hand pinched one. Eyes immediately glowing red, she locked onto Sam as he backed away, half eaten cookie and hands up in surrender.

“Do that again and I will give you nightmares.”

The Falcon whistled lowly. “Okay. Protective over cookies. Got it.”

“There’s cookies?” Bucky asked, strolling in.

“No.”

“Oh okay.”

- - -

The heroes were sprawled on the couches playing a game of UNO when Wanda came down the stairs.

“What are you doing with that hoodie?” Tony asked sharply.

Wanda furrowed her eyebrows. “This.. hoodie?” she replied, tugging on the drawstrings of the soft item of company clothing she was wearing.

“Yes! That’s my enemy’s!”

She didn’t really want to get into whatever nonsense the genius was spouting again. “My friend lent it to me.”

“You have friends?” joked Sam.

Steve gave the man a warning look. “It’s good that you’re adjusting to life here.”

“I think the important question here,” Natasha said from her spot, “is where are you going?”

“Dinner,” she replied, trying to look as nonchalant as possible. She tried to fight the silly smile that crept into her face whenever she thought about you, but she mustn’t have hid it well enough, since the red headed spy gave her a sickeningly sweet smile.

I hate you, she projected.

Nat winked back.

“Based on the way Miss Maximoff keeps anxiously glancing at the door, there is likely to be someone waiting for her,” Vision piped up. “I have searched the Internet databases, and from what I have gathered, your casual outfit means that you are going with someone you are familiar with. The sharing of clothes is usually reserved for close friends or romantic partners only.”

Of course the android had to get involved.

“Your heart rate seems to be speeding up Miss Maximoff. Are you okay?”

“Wanda Maximoff,” Tony asked slowly, “do you have a boyfriend?”

That’s when all hell broke loose.

“Who is he?”

“Is he hot?”

“Where did you meet?”

“How did you even get a boyfriend?”

“Can we meet him?”

“What-“

“Okay,” she groaned. Well it was bound to happen eventually. She just wished she could’ve gotten even a few months without the teasing. “I have a girlfriend, yes she’s hot, yes I’m going to have dinner with her, and I’ll ask about meeting. I’m going to go now.” With that, she stepped into the elevator.

“Don’t think this conversation is over witchy,” called Tony, as the doors slid shut.

- - -

“Hey,” you smiled as she slid into the car. “What took you so long?”

“The Avengers found out.”

You chuckled at that. “What, did they interrogate you or something?”

“Something like that.” She paused. “They want to meet you.”

“Are you sure?”

“They’re my family, and they’ll love you as much as I do.”

“Cute,” you grinned, “but I don’t know about Tony.”

“Trust me, they’re a mess a lot of the time, but they’re good people.”

You checked through your phone. “I haven’t got anything on around lunch tomorrow. I can come by then, how does that sound?”

“So you’ll come?”

“Anything for my girlfriend.”

- - -

Her green eyes locked onto you amongst the bustle of suits in the lobby.

“Hey.”

You adjusted the grey fabric of your pantsuit. “Hey yourself.”

“Did you wear the suit to impress me?” Wanda asked, delicately tugging on your tie.

“Actually, I’ve got a meeting with the investors later. Gotta make an impression, you know?”

“Well consider me impressed,” she whispered against your ear.

Blushing, you allowed Wanda to lead you to the elevator.

- - -

Clint wasn’t sure what to expect with you. But if Wanda liked you, you were sure to be one of the good sorts. So maybe like a cute girl she met at the cafe or something. He sure as hell wasn’t expecting the confident girl dressed in a suit to step out of the elevator.

All of them were lined up in the common room and he’s pretty sure any normal person would have been intimidated by the sheer amount of Avengers in front of them, but you stepped up to them absolutely unfazed.

“Mr Rogers,” you offered your hand to shake, “a pleasure to meet you.”

Steve was expecting to have to take the lead with introductions, but here you seemed to be handling yourself fine. “Likewise.”

“Is Mr Stark here today?” you asked him.

“He’s a bit busy at the mo-“

Clattering and a string of curses interrupted him. And of course, the man himself stepped into the room, Iron Man debris in his wake.

“Tony,” Steve scolded.

“What? Did you think I’d miss meeting the girl who stole the heart of our cold antisocial emo?”

Wanda tossed a couch pillow at him, but he brushed it off.

“Tony Stark,” he declared.

You shook his hand politely. “I know who you are Mr Stark.”

“And you are...?”

“Y/N L/N.”

The genius might have been singed from his armour, but the moment that name fell from your lips, he yanked his hand away, as if he was burned.

“L/N. As in L/N Corporations?”

“That’s me.”

Abruptly he turned to Wanda. “Do you know who this is?” he hissed. “The greatest rival to Stark Industries. I thought you were introducing your girlfriend.”

You gave him a winning smile. “I am her girlfriend Mr Stark. And you may have made me your rival, but I can assure you that you are not mine.”

Sam snorted.

“What are you doing here then? Are you here to try and steal data? You can’t...”

You paid him no mind as you winked at Sam. Spotting the metal arm, your eyes widened. “You must be Bucky, right? Princess Shuri told me she’d been working on some vibranium projects. I’d love to take a closer look some other day if you don’t mind?”

“How do you know Shuri?” Stark spluttered.

“You think that she only talks to rich boys who need her help? Sorry to burst your bubble.”

Nat couldn’t help but smirk at this.

“Oh and I’ve actually been working on some prototype Widow Bites as a bit of a free time project,” you added. “If you’re interested, your opinion on usage would really help me to refine them.”

“Of course.”

“Traitor,” Tony glared.

It’s at this point your phone began to ring. Glancing down, you offered a sheepish smile. “I’m sorry, I’ve really got to take this.” You turned to face the wall as your friendly tone turned professional.

The Avengers huddled together as your call went on.

“Is she using you for information?” Tony scowled.

Wanda scowled back. “She’s my girlfriend Stark. Not everything is about you.”

He looked as if he was going to say more, but Steve interrupted.

“Look Tony, she seemed like a perfectly lovely girl.”

“Yeah I like her,” added Sam. “She can keep your ego in check.”

“If Wanda likes her, I’m fine with it too.” Clint said.

Wanda gave him a thankful look.

A cough came awkwardly behind them.

“I really hate to cut this short everyone, but something’s come up back at the office. Investors are a pain.”

“Yeah go on back to your investors then,” spat Tony.

“Wow” you drawled, heading back to the elevator, “is the rich card the only thing you can play Stark?”

The light on the wall indicated that the cab had arrived, and you stepped inside the carriage which would take you back down, as Peter stepped out.

“Oh hey Y/N, what are you doing here?”

“I was just leaving Pete, but swing by later, alright?”

“You know it.”

“Oh and I heard you liked the hoodie I gave Wanda, Mr Stark,” you called. “I can grab you one as well, since it’s my company. But I really do gotta run now. Nice to meet you all!” The metal doors slid shut on your grinning face.

There was a silence, before Tony turned on his protégée. “How the hell are you on a first name business with her?”

“We’re friends?” Peter offered.

“Friends?”

“She went to college with me. She was super smart and we hung out and stuff. You know, what friends usually do.”

Squirming under his mentor’s gaze, he continued. “She was too smart for college though, so she dropped out and started her company. It didn’t mean we stopped being friends though.”

“Why didn’t you tell me Underoos?”

“She figured you might overreact, especially with the web sho-“ The boy’s eyes widened, and he made a mad dash for the stairs.

But Tony grabbed his wrist. “What were you saying?”

Peter sighed, running a hand through his hair anxiously. “She helped me out with my web shooters in college, and since then, she’s been developing them with me.”

“What?”

“She knows I’m Spider-Man and I work with her on my tech,” he said slowly.

The man surveyed his teammates, making deliberate eye contact with each and every one of them. “Traitors, the lot of you,” he huffed.

“I mean you gotta admit it,” laughed Sam. “She’s college age, and built an empire to rival you. Not to mention that she’s pretty, smart, has better PR and actual time management skills-“

“Okay I get it,” the genius cut him off.

“Don’t be upset,” Clint smirked, “you can’t lose if you’re not her competition.”

Tony stomped off.

“Don’t worry about him, he’ll come around,” Steve said gently, nodding at Wanda who was fiddling anxiously with her rings.

“She was cool,” added Nat. “Tony can be a pain in the ass, but he knows she’s a good person.”

Her phone buzzed in her hand.

<3: i’d say that went pretty well

Wanda: cannot believe you didn’t tell me

<3: i’m really sorry babe, please don’t hate me

Wanda: i could never

<3: just didn’t want him to stop you from fraternising with the enemy or whatever

Wanda: i’d break the rules for you any day

<3: how romantic

<3: so miss rebel, you coming over tonight?

Wanda: depends if you’re still wearing the suit

<3: anything for you ;)

#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda marvel #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff x you #scarlet witch #marvel #mcu

[ghostofbambifanfiction]

Part 1 of ?????

Started writing this fic a while ago and then lost faith in it. Should I continue? Feel bad for not posting much lately so I thought I'd share this. Read on and weigh in.

COME OUT TONIGHT

NO

You don't have to fucking shout?

Said the pot to the kettle?

Oh you grandmother The caps were an accidental by-product of voice-to-text Blame Siri if you're going to blame anyone

You have a Samsung Galaxy S20.

HAD. It got smashed. Worst luck. Listen, come out with me tonight.

Urghhhhhhhhhhhhhh I'm tired!

https://www.boots.com/wellness/vitaminsandsupplements/vitamins-supplements-shop-by-ingredient/echinacea

Hah (indifferent)

Just come out with me! Isaac has to go see some godawful student performance of the Antigone in wherever the fuck Chichester is and it's Sirius's flatmate's birthday party so I have to go and I don't know any of his weird mates

You don't HAVE to go.

Have to/want to Semantics

I'm not in a birthday party mood. I'm having a stressful week. My arse has been tense since Tuesday.

I will wade into the deep and massage your arse if I have to, just come It's a swank pad in Belgravia! I bet they'll have all sorts of expensive nibbles!

I read that as expensive nipples.

Those too!

Partying it up with the children of wealthy Tories. Sounds super fun.

Just come out with me, for fuck I'll pick you up at 7 and we can steal their silverware if it's boring as the grave

URGH I'll go but I'm NOT dressing up!

You don't have to dress up!

FINE!

*

take the drawings down please i'm begging you i'm actually begging you

Nah mate

siriusssssssss pleeeeeease

Nah

PLEASE

Nah

PLEASE ffs it's MY birthday!!!! there are going to be PEOPLE there! standing around! AT EYE LEVEL

I don't see what the problem is.

EVERYONE will see what the problem is! they literally will not be able to IGNORE what the problem is!

Sounds like a recipe for lively discussion to me tbh

that is NOT what i want people talking about at my birthday!

If I take them down, I'll have to take all the nails out and that'll leave nail marks all over the walls. It would be unsightly.

MORE UNSIGHTLY THAN YOUR DICK, SIRIUS?

My dick is bewitching.

DIE

*

She walks in expecting to find herself the infiltrator of a Made in Chelsea/Royal Ascot/Henley Regatta netherworld, filled with a gaggle of giggling, SW-postcode socialites wielding suspiciously powder-edged Harrods Amex cards in the place of horses and boats, but that's not what actually greets her on the other side of the lacquered front door.

What greets her is really quite ordinary.

Aside from the naked drawings of Kingsley's mate, which aren't.

Otherwise, the whole affair is pretty relaxed. People her age are clustered in their small groups, swigging beers. There's a table of oven-heated party foods, salty snacks and rapidly depleting ramekins of guac. She spies more band shirts than there are dress shirts. There's a round of Fortnite in full swing on the TV.

It's all just...startlingly normal. A normal birthday party.

And that's sort of embarrassing, really.

Where are all the visible Tory toffs, she wonders? Where is the braying laughter? The Eton alumni reunion? The glimpse of hunting-happy tweed and shotgun barrels as a coat cupboard door swings shut? Where's the indelible air of sneering superiority, of "we're richer and more privileged and better than you, so fuck the NHS and death to foxes!" that she'd been expecting? There's a fucking Henry Hoover in the corner of the hall, for Christ's sake. Lily came here to smile through her teeth at them all, to listen to the champagne problems privilege that bubbled from their lips and tell herself that she was the one who knew better, who thought better. Her plain white tee and skinny jeans and scuff-toed, high-top trainers were supposed to be a statement, a subtle setting-apart, but she's not even the most underdressed person in the room.

She pre-judged a house full of people. What's that about?

There's a lesson to be found in this. Perhaps.

*

James covered all of the dicks in Paw Patrol stickers that he bought from the newsagent on his way home from his mum's, but Sirius peeled them all off while he was taking a soothing lavender bath, so what's the bloody point in birthdays anyway?

It's early in the evening, and he's wedged—against his will—between the dining room bar and Shane Ruttle, who has just pointed at one of the many lamentable dicks and asked, "Is this one of yours?" which James kind of wants to thump him for. It's bad enough that he looks like a madman who stuffed his house with naked drawings of his brother, now people are actually assuming that he drew the damn things, even though most of the compositions are appallingly far beneath his skill level. He's a professional illustrator, for the love of god, and Shane is really standing before him like the posturing prick he is, asking him if he's the one who drew Sirius with one arm disproportionately longer than the other.

He knows that he should cheer up.

It is his birthday. There is cake.

Good cake, too, not the kind that gets buried in too-thick fondant that he has to pick off before he can eat what's underneath.

The problem is, there's also a party, and his friends are his friends, Peter and Sirius included, and Peter and Sirius can both get drunk much faster than James can. When Peter and Sirius get drunk, serious injuries tend to follow, Remus tends to fuck off in a flash and James tends to be the one who calls for an ambulance or mothers them back to health—physical, mental or otherwise. He has just turned twenty-six, and these repeated, drunkenly dramatic medical emergency scenes are starting to wear a little thin.

Can't a man get comfortably drunk and have a laugh at his own birthday party?

No, he can't, because Peter's already halfway to trashed, wobbling unsteadily towards the French doors that lead to the terrace, wearing that look on his face that says I'm definitely going to vomit or maybe even shit myself like I did on that one night we all spent in Munich with the Belgian handball team and the creepy tour guide who couldn't keep his sleazy hands to himself. For the sake of sparing the lawn such a punishment, James hastily removes himself from Shane, grabs Peter by the collar, shoves him in the direction of the downstairs loo and retreats to the safety of the living room, where there are, at least, no naked drawings of Sirius gracing the walls.

Most of the people in here are transfixed by Saffy Stephens, who is down to the last three in her Fortnite game and cursing like a sailor, but there are a small pile of birthday cards on the end table where James and Sirius normally keep their keys. He perches on the sofa arm, sets his half-drunk beer bottle on the carpet, pushes his dark, disheveled hair away from his forehead and begins leafing through them. It's a necessity when one lives with Sirius, who thinks nothing of swiping gift cards when the mood strikes him and he's had enough to drink.

They're mostly from his female friends, and all pretty standard, until he reaches the middle of the pile and finds a card bearing a picture of a moustached tabby and the caption: Have a Purr-fect Birthday!

The inscription inside is written in a lovely, swirling hand.

To Jasper/Jack/Jason/maybe Ja Rule?/J-something idk

(see above: everything I've learned about you from the friend* I came here with, verbatim)

(*who can't remember your name)

Happy Birthday! Thank you for (not) specifically inviting me, a stranger, to your party to celebrate this momentous event in your life. Please enjoy this festive card/social nicety/convention from me to you. My friend brought rum which you may prefer.

I'll be around. Not that you'll know.

LE

James lowers the card and twists on the sofa arm at once, eyes darting around the room in search of its author, as if they might be laying in wait to watch him read it and see how he reacts. Nobody appears to have ducked behind the couch, however, so the situation merits further scrutiny.

Obviously, he needs to meet this person.

A mystery! At his birthday party!

He perks right up after that.

*

She's coming out of the downstairs loo when a short, blonde man in a garish Hawaiian shirt barrels past her and pukes all over the chequerboard tiled floor, narrowly missing her jeans.

"Oh no," he moans into his wet hands. "Oh no—"

"There there, mate," says Lily consolingly, never one to judge somebody for getting drunk early at a party. She pats him on the back before squeezing past him and rejoining Kingsley, who is standing in one of this meandering Georgian house's many hallways, chatting to a bloke in a houndstooth sweater vest and holding two glasses of something very, very sparkly that she must try at once.

"It's like...it's like everything and nothing at the same time," Houndstooth Bloke is saying when Lily draws close, gesturing to a huge canvas painting of a rain-soaked fairground at night.

"Is it?" Kingsley asks.

"Mmm. Very." Houndstooth shakes his shoulders like he's slipping out of a robe. "Meant to be esoteric, I suppose."

That sounds suspiciously like pretentious bullshit to Lily, who doesn't find the concept of a merry looking fairground all that difficult to absorb. Kingsley knows more about the art world than she does, but he must agree with her assessment because he grunts and shoves her glass into her hand when she stops beside him, and more roughly than she deserves, as if she's the one who landed him in this mess of a conversation to begin with.

Trust him to find himself stuck with the only dick (not etched by a 4B Steadtler graphite pencil) in the building, and trust her to be stuck with the person who got himself stuck with King.

"What are we talking about?" she asks brightly, just to fuck with him.

"Drink your champagne, there's a good little hen," King mutters, his teeth clenched together, hallway lights bouncing off the smoothly waxed dome of his bald head.

"We've been discussing this piece." Houndstooth nods to the painting, but his limpid eyes narrow on Lily's face. "Christ, you're very redheaded, aren't you?"

It's decided. She'll wait 'til Houndstooth is drunk and trip him up with Henry Hoover's hose.

"Ergo soulless, yes," she agrees.

"And you...enjoy that?" he asks, as if being redheaded is her profession.

"Very much, thanks."

"Hmmp. Well. I came here with Saffron," he announces, pronouncing it Sef-ron. As if Lily is supposed to know who that is. "Platonically, of course. Actually, we're some sort of cousins, I think. What do you think the artist is trying to convey?"

He's very pointedly asking her, so Lily blinks at the painting, her eyes on the outstretched arm of a child on the carousel.

"I like the pretty colours," she decides aloud.

"Right," says Houndstooth, "but that's not—"

"And the lights, too. The lights are really pretty."

"But—"

"I love funfairs, actually," she brightly continues, finding a strange satisfaction in playing dumb in front of Houndstooth and his overbleached fade. Although she does really like the colours. "Haven't been to one in years!"

"Yes, good, whatever, but what is the artist trying to convey?"

"What artist?" comes a voice from behind them.

Lily glances over her shoulder and finds herself looking up at the man whose penis she's spent the past thirty minutes avoiding eye contact with, though he is taller, better proportioned and infinitely more beautiful than any of those crudely drawn depictions could possibly convey. He is also beplumed and bejewelled like a pirate, wearing a sumptuous velvet jacket over a loose white shirt, numerous rings on his fingers and an assortment of silver chains around his slender neck, while his grey eyes and elegantly high-set cheekbones are framed by a tumble of black hair that genuinely looks like silk.

The man is so beautiful, in fact, that Lily immediately wonders why he's been taking sketches home from the life drawing class that he and Kingsley pose for—hence their acquaintance and Lily's presence at this party—when nothing she's seen tonight has done him any justice.

Most happily, his penis is tucked safely out of sight.

"Alright, Sirius?" says King.

"Alright, Marvel?" Sirius claps a hand to the taller man's massive shoulder. Kingley's muscles bulge in a way that cannot be hidden by modern habiliments. "What are we talking about?"

"Not much." Houndstooth looks put out by the arrival of yet another person. "We were just mesmerised by this piece."

Lily refrains from gesturing to the painting with both hands and a "ta-dah!" choosing instead to sip her champagne.

It's very good champagne. Mmm. Yes.

"Oh, yeah, it's really something," Sirius agrees. He brushes past Kingsley and runs a finger over the illegible squiggle of a signature on the canvas. His nails are beautifully manicured. "Local guy, young up-and-comer. I assume you've heard of Algernon?" he asks Houndstooth, fixing him with a steely-eyed stare.

"Er, yes." Houndstooth's gaze slides from Sirius to the painting. "I know him."

Sirius's eyebrows lift. "Know him personally?"

"Well—"

"That's so weird, I heard he never speaks to people."

Houndstooth chews on the inside of his cheek, weighing up the challenge. "How…funny."

"Funny?"

"Oh, nothing. It's just, I know I've spoken to him before, and since you've bought his painting I assumed that you'd have—"

"That is funny, actually," Sirius interrupts, "because the artist is my brother, and Algernon is the name of his cat."

Kingsley has been tugging on his earring and almost rips it out of his ear as his body convulses, champagne spraying from his nostrils, while an alarming red flush sweeps across Houndstooth's face and he begins to sputter on his own self-importance. Sirius has clearly decided that he's done with all of that noise, however, because he turns back to Lily instead, looking her up and down with great and sudden interest.

"Who's this then?" he asks Kingsley, cocking his head to one side. "James's present?"

The champagne glass swings down and Lily fixes him with a deadpan stare. "Excuse me?"

Sirius slants a grin at Kingsley, a quick flash of teeth. "This one's queenly, isn't she?"

Kingsley wipes his nose with the back of his hand and laughs again. "Hardly."

"This is Primark, mate," Lily retorts, tugging on her t-shirt.

"Queenliness is a state of mind," says Sirius, "not a state of wardrobe."

"You had me marked down as a prostitute not ten seconds ago."

"Oh, that. I was only joking," he sighs, and grips her arm at the elbow, his long fingers cool against her skin. "But still, you're far too attractive to stand here talking to this clown. Come with me and I'll find you someone better."

*

James's friends are useless.

And drunk. Useless and drunk—or sort of drunk, in Saffy's case. Remus is certainly already pissed, but Remus is on meds so often that he drinks but once in a blue moon. One cocktail is usually enough to set him off, and he's been hard at the gin since he turned up with Peter at six.

"I don't know anyone with those initials," Saffy declares, once she has read, examined and even sniffed the birthday card for clues. "Except for Lisa Edelstein."

"Who's Lisa Edelstein?"

"Cuddy from House," says Remus, lowering the negroni from which he has been drinking deeply.

James pulls a face. "What the fuck is a Cuddy?"

"Oh, actually, it could mean le?" Remus suggests.

"Yes!" Saffy points at him like he might be onto something. "Like the French word for the?"

"Exactly, like—"

"It doesn't mean that!" James interrupts, unwilling to allow such profanity in his home. "That doesn't make sense, why would somebody sign their name as the?"

"Now you're asking me to explain how French people think?" says Saffy derisively, adjusting her bra strap beneath that burnt orange waistcoat she loves, the one that makes her look like she's directing a pornographic movie in the 70s when she pairs it with her tortoiseshell-framed aviators. It clashes wildly with her electric blue buzz-cut. "Am nooooo drunk enough for that."

"They could be one of those one word moniker pop stars, I suppose," Remus pipes up, smiling slyly. "You know, like Madonna?"

They think James doesn't realise that they're taking the piss out of him, but neither of them are sober enough to attempt their gambit with any kind of subtlety or grace.

"You know that's actually her real Christian name?" says Saffy.

Remus turns towards her with interest. "What, Madonna?"

"Yeah!"

"Really?"

"Yeah!" Saffy repeats. "I thought it couldn't possibly be her real name because, I mean, Madonna, yeah? But then I looked it up and apparently that's the name her mummy gave her, just goes to show—"

"I'm sorry," James interrupts, "but is Madonna relevant to this conversation?"

"Yes, always," says Saffy.

"She's an international pop megastar," Remus seconds.

James stares at his friend incredulously. "Drinking really chips away at your wit, y'know?"

"Does it?" Remus grins lazily and jiggles his cocktail in the air. "Oh, well, I'm negronly joking."

Saffy does a spit-take without the spit and clings helplessly to Remus's shoulder as she laughs, knees buckling, bangles tinkling, but James fights his own urge to start snickering.

"It's not that funny," he lies, and Remus eyes him with an alarmingly teacher-like shrewdness, despite the tellingly intoxicated flush that has crept into his thin, freckled face.

James's love of puns is tragically well known.

"You didn't get it." Remus points at his drink. His speech is starting to slur. "This is a negroni, what I said was—"

"Yeah, I got that part, I just—"

"Jesus fuck, look at her!" Saffy suddenly hisses, staggering sideways into Remus and sending him into the wall in a flurry of giggles—Remus giggling?—her voice hushed and urgent. "Who the hell is that?!"

James does look, following the direction of Saffy's gaze. Sirius has just entered the living room, casually clutching the elbow of a……

……goddess.

An actual. Like. Goddess.

A goddess. In James's house. In his living room. In the place where he eats his chocolate boulder cereal and rewatches Scrubs (even season 9, which is hilarious, and very unfairly disparaged by Joe Public) on Saturday mornings.

She's a goddess. A real one, and cleverly disguised as a mortal, sure, with her slouchy white t-shirt and her big hoop earrings and her light blue jeans that are torn at the knees, wearing her shoulder-length red hair half up, half down and slightly messy, but that doesn't hide what she is.

"Oh my god," he murmurs. His heart is pounding all of a sudden, which is so...utterly bloody stupid, but Saffy's right, bloody look at her, Jesus fuck.

"Surely she can't be with Sirius?" Saffy murmurs back.

"No, she—" He watches Sirius lean down to mutter something in the redhead's ear. A ghost of a laugh flits across her beautiful face. "She's not his—he isn't—"

"D'you think—"

"No, I—"

"Good," says Saffy firmly. She lets go of Remus and rises, lengthening her spine. It is a battle stance of some sort, presumably. "Because I saw her first."

"No!" James cries, wounded, and the redhead shoots him a curious look with a pair of eyes that are startlingly emerald green, even from all the bloody way over here. He spins to face Saffy and lowers his voice, face burning. "It's my house!"

"What are you arguing here, ownership rights?"

"No but it—it's my birthday!" James retorts, jabbing at his own chest. "And, actually, and—"

"It's in the bloody post!"

"—you didn't get me a present!" he finishes in triumph, not that he knows what he's arguing for, because the likelihood is that his tongue will glue itself to the roof of his mouth if he even dares to look in her direction one more time. "Plus I set you up with Vanya Petrich, with whom, as I recall, you enjoyed four years—"

"Stop throwing that in my face!"

"—four blissful years—"

"Is it my fault that you've never fancied any girl I've set you up with?!"

"—promised me an Easter ham for setting you up with her and I never got it—"

"So now you'll trade a woman for a ham?" Saffy accuses, though her face is too lit up, her brown eyes too crinkled at the corners—she's having fun with this and she isn't going to fool him and she knows it. "That's so low, even—"

"Don't start with that," James scathingly cuts in. "You offered me Sean Connery's autograph for Bonnie Grogan's number—"

"Which you never gave me!"

"Because you forged the bloody signature!"

"And now she's bloody married!"

"Yeah, well, Isabella wouldn't give me a counterfeit present, would she?" he retorts, and Saffy lets her shoulders drop, smirking. "This is pointless, Saf, we can't—"

"She's just left with Sirius," Remus informs them, and burps.

#Jily #Part 1 #Of 3? #Honestly I just wanted to give you guys a treat

[tojisveryown]

What would you trust your mutuals with?

mm let's see.. there's gonna be a wide range of things here LMAO

@sookyshima with my passwords. Honestly it's more of a "This person blocked me, can you check what they posted?" "Bitch you do it, i have stuff to do. here's my password" and then Rosie would casually post a picture of herself on my story from time to time.

@honouredsatoru with my pets. Lilith is the sweetest, I know she'd never wanna harm anyone unless it harms them or their friends, plus I get the vibe that she loves animals idk? maybe I'm wrong.

@thankuary with an embarrassing secret. I feel like we'd just laugh it off and that she'd more so bring it up secretly in attempt to tease me, but I'm sure she'd never tell anyone else. BUT I can imagine her texting me "remember the time..." at 3 AM

@megumifushi with my nudes. Honestly yeah, Elli is the SWEETEST person, and I know she'd never leak them out of spite if things were to get rocky between us or at least I hope..

@toges-wife with my prized possession. I mean not that I have one, but if I did, I can imagine Tee just protecting it with her life making sure nothing happens to it.

@babydai with my phone. I don't have a passcode or anything, but I honestly doubt she'd go through it, and if she did I literally have nothing interesting on there LMAO. BUT I do see Dai spamming my phone with random pictures.

@noritoshiikamo with a secret that isn't mine LMAO. I'd probably accidentally slip it out, but I'd trust Tee enough not to spread it, and we'd probably just laugh at how stupid I am.

@nanamishair with my drink. I don't think Jane would purposefully spike someones drink but I do trust her to make sure it doesn't happen to mine, and I'd obviously take care of yours if you'd let me.

@nkogneatho with my shit. If I were to get into a fight I'd trust Pasi to hold my shit and record whole doing so, and when the fight is done me and her watch the video and make edits about it LMFAO

@nanamisbreadstick with putting me back into my place. NAHHH CAUse when I like someone i always ignore the red flags and I trust this bitch enough to slap some sense into me and force me to do what's right.

if i missed anyone lmk, i just did this off the top of my head

#tojisveryown #elsy's asks 🎱 #anon <3 #me and my baes 🖤

[logsfm]

hey my loves   !   i’m mia  ,  21 from the east coast   !   i have not roleplayed in sheeeesh   ...   like five or six months   ?   but i am so excited to be here for opening with all of y’all   .   i spent like all morning trying to weed out this gal logan right here   ...   she’s a trip   ,   that’s the best overall description i have for ya   .   anywho   ,  lets get to the actual thing you’re here for her lil intro   .   also if you wanna mssg on discord here ya go   𝐤𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐯𝐬 𝖜𝖍𝖔𝖗𝖊#7040   .

logan samara-de jaager was spotted in the fashion district adorning  air force 1’s university blue  , with some airpod pros on . they’re most likely listening to  benz i know by kelvyn colt  . you may know them as  @delogan  or as that  bella hadid  lookalike . their  twenty fourth  birthday just passed . while living in  the upper east side  , they’ve gained a bit of a reputation . they’re known to be  querulous  but on the other hand  passionate  . wonder if they’ll be the next person to hit the headlines . ( cisfemale / she/her +  mia / twenty one / she/her ) + ( “ logan de jaager seen shoving ex in hotel footage during heated argument , not so sweet huh? ” / “ miss de jaager was spotted sneaking into ex beau’s apartment , what could she be up to? ” / “ sweet socialite or greedy trust fund baby ? milan de jaager publicly accuses daughter logan of stealing $1M … ” )

born into the true lap of luxury . the daughter of real estate magnate & high - profile attorney milan de jaager and his wife , british born socialite lana samara . the two of them held high favor within the 1% but were also able to find a perfect balance . they did a great job of separating personal life from the tabloids . it was rare to really know the happenings of their day to day . they had this particular kind of mystery to them , if you will .

it wasn’t long before lana began to instill the very same rhetoric she received as a child into her own   .   quality over quantity   ,   was the motto   .   just not in the way you’d assume   .   the quality at which a de jaager presented themselves to you was much more important than than quantity of time you spent with them   .   looks   ?   they’re everything   ,   in the de jaager household   .   time was simply a societal construct implemented to catch you on a bad day   ,   for that very line of thinking they embodied being late   .   rushing out of the house to finish your make up in the car   ?   a literal sin in the eyes of her mother   .

she was encouraged to take part in ballet and beauty pageants growing up   .   anything that could showcase how beautiful their daughter was lana and milan were on board for   .   personally logan hated ballet but she couldn’t deny she loved the applause the night of a showcase   .   she also couldn’t stand pageants but loved having all eyes on her as she went on stage   .

it became quite clear as the years went on that her parents were much more like close friends to their daughter than like rule - instilling guardians   .   she would text them to dismiss her from school   ,   get them to buy her   &   her friends alcohol for sleepovers  /  parties   ,   was very much so that kid who got high with her parents   .   really anything you could do with your friends   ?   was fair game with logan   &   her folks   .

at sixteen a friend of her moms who was going to be a designer for spring fashion week that year asked if logan would want to walk for him   .   she was quick to accept the offer and before she knew it she had multiple offers to walk in that years fall fashion weeks   ,   because of how easy it came to her   -    though   ,    she’s the first to admit she never really took modeling all that seriously   .

it was just a year later that her way of life changed drastically , logan and her twin brother had been caught by paparazzi on a friends boat in the hamptons snorting a white substance , anyone with eyes knew exactly what the group of teenagers were doing . upon returning home the two received the crackdown of the century . their once friendly parents turned to strict jail like guardians . often reminded that they put the families reputation at stake . the pressure to be perfect was something logan had never had to deal with until now & she almost cracked under the pressure at every turn .

it wasn’t until she left for college that she was finally given some room to breathe , attending the university of florida was the best choice for what logan truly wanted to do with her life - become a sports analyst . growing up she was infatuated with sports & and would have been involved in much more than just cheerleading had her mom allowed for her to get so much as a speck of dirt on her . during her time in florida the paparazzi seemed to find her more often than not , something her parents often denounced both over the phone & in public . the longer she spent away from the upper east side the more she became america’s sweetheart & simultaneously a thorn in her parents side . she graduated from university in 2018 , only returning back to new york for the sake of work . she’d been offered a reporting job with espn , on top of taking up modeling gigs here & there when ever she felt necessary .

personality …

one thing is very true about the de jaager’s & is very much so the same for logan ; she is not to be trusted . she can be extremely charming when she wants to be . she could sell a bag of rocks to a beach & get a princess to sell her sole to sex work . she knows exactly what people want to hear & when they want to hear it and has no qualms about lying straight to someone’s face if it means she gets something out of it . in fact sometimes , she might lie to your face just for the sheer fun of being able to call you gullible .

she’s very much so a spoiled brat although she hates when anyone call her one , she feels like she has more layers to her than that broad term . hand in hand with that is her drama queen like tendencies , any situation were there is a simple solution she will find a way to blow vastly out of portion .

due to her mother’s heavy influence growing up , she can be rather vein & materialistic . catch her like “ i can’t date a garbage person ” to someone simply because they’re not as rich or known enough for her liking .

it’s rare that you’ll ever see her jump out of character . she’s very calculated & aware of who she is ( or who she needs to seem like ) so if you ever see her emotions getting the better of her , you’ve really broken her .

she’s the type to dabble in a little bit of anything   ?   she’s a rich nyc party girl who’s been partying well before anyone should have allowed her to so she’s done it all   .    you’d be kidding yourself to think you could surprise  /  scare logan on a wild night out   .

she’s quick   &   creative with her sense of humor   .   she has both a crude / dry sense of humor   ,   as well   ,   and really just doesn’t find goofy things to be funny but more or less embarrassing   ( so if she ever tells you you’re goofy , remember it’s not a compliment ) .

her upbringing   &   parents sentiment on tabloids once reflected massively on logan   ,   but now she couldn’t quite care less about it all . after all she spends hours in front of cameras on a regular basis for work . although she does tend to shy away from people who she deems are hungry for fame or attention   .   she’s been used in the past for fame   &   will never let it happen again   , plus she’s the type to lap up attention so she likes to have as little fame whores around her as possible , more shine for her .

when she isn’t being a total nightmare though she’s actually really fun to be around ? she’s playful & loves to keep the party alive . often can be found claiming “ i’m high on life ” although everyone saw the pictures , logan , we know what you’re really high on , girl .

very chatty girl , too . victim of foot - in - mouth syndrome , big time . she doesn’t try to be disloyal & spill people’s secrets ( or does she ? ) but she can’t help herself . if she has piping hot tea she’s gonna spill it because she doesn’t wanna burn herself .

very observant girl , who loves to people watch but her observations can sometimes get muddled when she starts judging people a little too hardcore .

she’s also a undercover couch potato    &    by that i mean if you give her an option to go out   &   do something she’ll never outwardly choose to stay home to watch netflix and snuggle up under the blankets but secretly she’s hoping   &   praying she gets a chance to do so   .

plots   ...

END THIS ( L.O.V.E ) / her first love   .   these two brought the absolute worst out of one another   .    they messed her up so much that she has a weird perspective on what love between two s/o’s should even feel like now   .   maybe they had another s/o at the same time as her   &   kinda just strung her on   &   when it came out were able to lie so much to her that she believed them   .   idk   ,   in truth we could really plot something completely different as to what they did   &   inevitably what the breaking point was   .   maybe they broke up with her   &   had they not ended it maybe she would’ve still been okay with being in the relationship   .   idk i just feel like this one could be fun as hell   .     also they’d be the one whom she was caught arguing with in one of her headlines   .   ( 0 / 1 )

AFTER PARTY / this is a more reckless take of party buddies   .   im envisioning a group of people who when the parties over they all pull up to close by gulf course   ,   indulge even more in their choices of substance   ,   there is a naked gulf tournament going on   ,   there are drunks driving golf carts   ,   swerving and pouring bacardi all over the course   .   running from security when they pop up   .   it’s tradition at this point   &   if someone doesn’t come it’s almost disrespectful at this point   .   idk i just love the thought of this kinda vibe   .   ( 2 / ? )

SECRETS / okay so this one is messy   .   basically logan was very private for most of her life   (   thanks mom   &   dad   )   and during the early stages of highschool she lied to everyone saying she was a virgin   .   she told each one of these individuals that they were her first whether it be to make them fall for her   “   innocence   ”   ,   want to chase after her   ,   or whatever else we might be able to plot out   .   inevitably they compare notes at some point and find out that she’d been lying to them all   .   we can plot out how they confronted her i feel like we could make this real dramatic though   .   this would also be a backstory plot so   ,   we  can also plot out how things have transpired since for them   .   ( 0 / 3 or 4 )

BEST FRIEND / these two girls take best friends to the next level   .   they relate to one another on every level and are there for one another at all times   .   there is never a moment where they are competing with one another because they know that their #1 in there respective category   .   they are one another’s ultimate hype beasts   .   they truly embody chaotic goddess vibes   .   it’s like they were placed on this earth simply to be friends because they compliment one another that well   .   ( 0 / 1 )

LETS FALL IN LOVE FOR THE NIGHT / they are the one that’s there whenever she’s down   .   they have the ability to make her feel like they have some sort of old love whenever she’s around them   .   those feelings only last for the night though   .   they enjoy when she rambles on about sports or the novel she just recently read or really just anything she enjoys can put a smile on their face   .    they know better than to ever confuse what is going on between them though   ,   they know that she’ll never be theirs   .   whether they’re okay with this or not we can definitely plot out   .   ( 0 / 1 )

MOANA / they are not a fan of logan   .   they see her for what she is   :   an attention seeking   ,    spoiled brat and the fact that they don’t want anything to do with her makes her want them all the more   .    when they finally slept with her it was only to prove a point to her s/o at the time   ,   to prove that she’s not the sweet girlfriend she claimed to be   .   basically they’re the person who outed her for being a ho ho ho but despite knowing that they outed her for that she still tries to hook up with them because they were the best she ever had    .   they often turn her down but after a while not even they can deny that they’re attracted to her   .   they still don’t fuck with her though   .   also i think it’d be cool if their were two of them   &   maybe they worked together to out her to her s/o that didn’t believe she was a cheater   ( 0 / 2 )   also bring the s/o that they outed her to   ( 0 / 1 )

ELEVEN / the type of relationship that is stuck in the grey area   .   they’re more than friends but they don’t necessarily admit to having feelings for one another   .   honestly they probably don’t even think they have feelings for one another   .   it’s a weird dynamic   .   they spend the most of their time together late at night   .   there meeting time    ?   11pm   .    they go on wild joy rides to the beach   .   heads out of the sun roof as they let out a loud woo   .    the only thing accompanying them is a big bag of weed   .    sometimes they have deep talks   ,   honestly they probably know more about one another than anyone else   ?   because of these adventurous of theirs   .   when they aren’t having deep talks they’re running across the beach aimlessly   &   rolling around in the sand with one another   .   it’s really just a very pure plot that i need in my life   .  ( 0 / 1 )

TRUST NOBODY / this is someone who used logan for fame / attention   .   they either became close friends or even started dating   &   they used everything they learned about her or what went on between them to relay back to a tabloid / would call paparazzi to come and take pictures of them together whenever they’d go out   .   ( 0 / 1 )

some other plot ideas i’d love to see   :   x   ,   x   ,   x   ,   x   ,   x   ,   x   ,   x   ,   x   ,   x   ,   x   ,   x   .

#wealthyhq:intro #hellurrrr *

[crystalstar8]

Knights of the Night (ch 15)

Chapter 15

Ch 1, ch 2, ch 3, ch 4, ch 5, ch 6, ch 7, ch 8, ch 9, ch 10, ch 11, ch 12, ch 13, ch 14, ch 15

https://archiveofourown.org/works/29139240/chapters/71536491

pairing: Jungkook x oc

genre: vampire au, college au, twilight, romance

word count: 2,459

warnings: blood (obviously), kidnapping, child kidnapping, needles, France

notes: vampires, vampire au, college, college au, so many twilight references, blood, needles, kidnapping, children, homelessness, dance, ballet, flashbacks, romance, slow burn, probably no smut, idk yet tho, France, French things, attempted genocide, inaccurate French history, bisexual main character, @strawberriewithchocolate-blog @mozy-j  @daechwitad-2​ @zobadak​ @fallenstar-7​​​

summary: Catalina starts college in a small town all the way across the country. She doesn’t know anyone and isn’t exactly looking for friends. She just wants to focus on dance. But when she meets fellow dance major, Jimin, and adventurous, fellow freshman, Jungkook, Catalina ends up discovering a whole new side to the small college town; one that is dangerous but oh so enticing…

              Catalina was nervous. She had changed her outfit almost ten times and was already pulling a sweater out of her closet for an eleventh. She eyed her suitcase in the corner of her room. No, don’t open it, you’ll have to repack, she told herself. Her phone buzzed from her bed. It was a text from Jungkook.

JK: I’m on my way

              “Shit,” Catalina mumbled. She looked between the sweater in her hand and the one laying on the floor. The one in her hand was a bit nicer so she pulled that one on. She tucked it into her skirt, then slipped into her ankle boot heels. As she was checking her hair and makeup in the bathroom mirror for the last time, she heard her front door open. Rounding the corner, she saw Jungkook standing in the hallway, tapping the snow off his boots on the rug. Catalina grabbed her coat.

              “You look so cute!” he said as she came over for a hug.

              “I always look cute, what are you talking about?” she said. He grinned, his nose scrunching up and his eyes turning to crescents. He looked good too, in a turtleneck under his peacoat. It was amusing to her, knowing that he still had a few lingering marks on his neck. They had both dealt with enough teasing from their friends over the past few days, they definitely didn’t need Jungkook’s family on that train as well.

              “Ready to go?” he asked. Catalina nodded and followed him out the door, locking up behind her.

              The car ride was short, only a minute or two since they lived a block away from each other. There were two other cars in the driveway, which Jungkook parked behind. As they got out of the car, Jungkook said, “So, my brother is kind of annoying. Just warning you. He’s in law school and he’s a bit of an asshole about it.”

              “Be an asshole about your film major right back to him,” said Catalina, making him laugh.

              “Easy,” he said. “I’ll just start talking about my favorite directors and artsy films.”

              His house was warm and inviting, as it always was, but today, it was cleaner than Catalina’s seen it in a long time. Maybe ever. A small Christmas tree stood in the corner, decorated with mismatched bulbs and ornaments.

              Jungkook’s mom came out of the kitchen, pulling oven mitts off her hands. She saw Catalina and her eyes lit up.

              “Catalina! It’s so good to see you!” she said, pulling her into a hug. “I’m glad you could make it.”

              “Yeah, me too!” Catalina said. “I never get to see you guys, so I’m glad to be able to spend some time with you all.”

              “Of course, you’re always welcome,” she said. “My husband and I are always so busy with work, I feel bad. Anyway, come into the kitchen. The food’s almost ready. Jungkook, go help set the table.”

               Dinner was beautiful, and Catalina had fun listening to Jungkook’s family try to embarrass him by sharing childhood stories. He wasn’t embarrassed though, always laughing with the table and sharing his own details about the experiences. It sounded like the family hiked and camped a lot while the boys were growing up, so there were plenty of adventure stories to go along with that. Catalina asked about his parent’s jobs and they told her about what they do at the hospital during their overnight shifts. They were both nurses, but they also did volunteer work every chance they got. Jungkook’s brother was indeed a bit of an asshole about being a law student, but Jungkook cracked everyone up by talking about his favorite film, “Persepolis”, pronouncing it “Pear-say-po-li”.

               Catalina had a great time, but she didn’t stay too late since her and Jungkook had a flight to catch in the morning. Jungkook dropped her off at home that night, kissing her softly in the car before she got out.

               “I’ll see you in the morning,” he said. “I’ll pick you up at six.”

               “I can’t wait,” she said, pecking his lips once more before getting out of the car. “I love you.”

               “I love you too,” he said.

               It feels so good to say that, Catalina thought as she took the stairs to her apartment.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

               The airport was crowded with people rushing to travel for the holidays. Catalina was thrumming with excitement. She hadn’t seen her mom since before her first semester. She had never lived away from her home before, never away from her mom for so long. She couldn’t wait to see her, and to introduce Jungkook to her. They found their flight easily enough in the giant building, and soon enough, they were in the air, en route to Detroit.

               Catalina’s mom was waiting for them at the airport when they landed. As soon as Catalina exited the gates, she ran, giving her mom a long hug.

               “Oooh, dios mio, how I’ve missed you!” her mom said, holding her tight.

               “I missed you too, mom,” said Catalina. She pulled away and looked over at Jungkook. “Mom, this is my boyfriend, Jungkook.”

               “What a cutie you are!” her mother said as she gave Jungkook a hug as well. “It’s so nice to meet you.”

               “It’s nice to meet you too, Mrs. Diaz,” said Jungkook.

               “Ms. Diaz. Or you can just call me Lucía. Come, lets go home,” she said. “This place is too crowded.”

               Catalina sat in the passenger seat of her mom’s car on the way home. It wasn’t a long drive, their house was just outside of the city. During the drive, she wondered if she should reach out to her old friends. They had never once texted or checked up on her while she was away, so maybe it was best to leave them behind.

               The house looked exactly the same as when she last saw it and it gave her a sense of comfort to come back to the familiarity. After Catalina and Jungkook got settled into her old room, her mom called them downstairs to help bake cookies. While baking, Catalina and Jungkook told her all about their classes and professors. After the cookies came out, they had fun decorating them in weird and interesting ways. Jungkook decorated a gingerbread man with red eyes and fangs, which Catalina took a picture of to send to their friends.

               Later in the evening,  Lucía took them all out to dinner at a nice place in downtown Detroit. The restaurant was beautiful; bistro lights dripped from the ceiling, branching out from the twisting paper tree in the center of the dining room. Over dinner, Catalina told her mother about her friends in California, and about their trip to the lodge. Her and Jungkook left out the parts about their friends being vampires.

               “I want to know how the two of you got together,” said Lucía. “She didn’t date much in high school, so this is so exciting to me.”

               “I had a girlfriend in my senior year,” Catalina mumbled. Lucia waved a hand.

               “That doesn’t count,” she said. Catalina glanced at Jungkook, who was frowning after hearing this exchange. Catalina put a hand on his knee under the table and decided not to argue.

               “Well, we met in our French class,” Catalina started. “We became friends and we hung out a lot for the first few months of the semester. I mean, I never really knew I had a crush on him at first, I knew he was attractive, but I only saw him as a friend. Then one day, he kissed me, and we’ve been an item ever since.”

                Lucía had a hand over her heart as she listened.

               “That’s so sweet,” she said. “You two are a beautiful couple and I can see you’re so happy with each other. I’m just…so relieved that you found a nice boy and-“

               “Mom,” Catalina interrupted.

               “I just didn’t want you to fall back into those high school phases you were in,” she said. “I was so worried I would lose you to the wrong kind of people. There’s so many influences online these days and I just wanted you to be successful in life. That kind of lifestyle comes with drugs and-“

               “I’m gonna go to the restroom,” Jungkook said, standing up and giving her shoulder a squeeze.

               “Mom, stop it,” Catalina said. As soon as Jungkook was out of sight, she said, “My boyfriend is bisexual too. And so are some of my other friends at school. They’re all amazing people and I would do anything for them. I don’t like when you say things like this.”

               “Catalina, you know I love you no matter what,” her mother said. “I just want the best for you.”

               “It’s not something anyone can control,” Catalina said. “Whether I fall in love with a man or a woman, I’ve always hoped you could be happy for me no matter what.”

               “I am happy for you,”  Lucía said, reaching over to take Catalina’s hand. “You’re following your dream and you seem so happy with your life right now. I think I need to get used to the idea of my daughter being bisexual, there’s just so many bad connotations that come with that community. At least from when I was growing up.”

               “Things are different now,” Catalina said.

               “I know, I know,”  Lucía said. “I think I just need to get used to this. At the end of the day, I just want you to be safe and happy. I think a man would be able to provide for you better later in life.”

               “You of all people should know that’s not true,” Catalina said. “You raised me alone, and we were always pretty well off.”

                Lucía raised her eyebrows and shrugged. “You got me there.”

               Catalina giggled and squeezed her mom’s hand.

               “I love you, cariña,”  Lucía said. “Just remember that.”

               “I love you too, mom,” said Catalina.

               Jungkook came back and Catalina took his hand as soon as he sat down.

               “I’m sorry if what I said earlier was offensive,”  Lucía said to him.

               “It’s okay,” Jungkook said, flashing a smile.

               “I’m trying, it was just so different when I was young,” she said.

               “It’s really okay,” Jungkook said with a chuckle. “This sounds exactly like the conversation I had with my own mom when I was sixteen.”

                Lucía laughed and the conversation turned to the topic of Jungkook’s family. Dinner went on peacefully. Catalina was glad she got this conversation off her chest. She had been struggling with that topic ever since she came out in high school. It really sounded like her mother was trying to understand, and Catalina couldn’t be more grateful.

               The next day was Christmas Eve. Catalina and Jungkook took a day trip to Frankenmuth, which, as soon as they arrived, they realized was a bad idea. Frankenmuth was packed with people, but the pair still managed to have a good time. They ate dinner at the Bavarian Inn and took a carriage ride around the town. They walked the underground mall and the outdoor shops, but only bought gifts for Lucía, since everything was terribly overpriced. They didn’t even shop for each other, since they both confessed they had already bought each other Christmas gifts a long time ago. Snow covered the ground and everything was wrapped in Christmas lights in the little town. Just walking through the beautiful scenery hand in hand with Jungkook was wonderful. 

               They returned home late that evening, wrapping their gifts in Catalina’s room and going to bed afterwards.

               Christmas morning was pleasant;  Lucía cooked them a big breakfast, then they opened gifts in the living room. Catalina had two gifts from her mom. The first one was a Visa gift card and a heartfelt letter. The second gift was a quilt. Each patch depicted a different cat from t-shirts, towels and linens.

               “You’re grandmother started making this before she passed away,”  Lucía said. “You remember her nickname for you?”

               “Gatita,” Catalina said, tears prickling her eyes.

               “I found it just recently and I decided to finish it for you,”  Lucía said. “Just something to remember her by, something your children can use.”

               Catalina felt a tear run down her cheek. She wiped it away and got up to hug her mom.

               “This is wonderful,” said Catalina. “I love it so much.”

               “I’m glad you like it, cariña,” her mom said, hugging her back tight. “I know I don’t have a lot for you, like when you were a kid, but I didn’t want you to have to lug a bunch of stuff back to California with you.”

               “No mom, it’s perfect,” she said. “This is perfect.”

                Lucía then opened Catalina’s gift, which was a silver bracelet from Frankenmuth. Jungkook had gotten her a handmade scarf and hat set, and she had given him another Visa gift card.

               At some point during the day, Catalina made sure to find time for herself and Jungkook. Lucía went to pick up groceries in the afternoon, which was when Catalina took the opportunity to give Jungkook his gift.

               They were pressed together on the couch, both holding a little gift bag in their hands.

               “You first,” Jungkook said, handing her his bag. She took it and opened it, finding a little box in the bottom. Her heart beat fast as she opened it, revealing a ring with the moon in a glass bubble. She gasped and handed his gift over frantically.

               “Open this right now!” she said, pulling the ring out and putting on her middle finger. He did, his eyes getting wide as he opened the slightly bigger box.

               “No way,” he said, looking up at her.

               “How the hell did this happen?” Catalina asked, holding in giddy laughter. Jungkook pulled the necklace out of the box and put it on. The charm on the chain held the moon in a little glass bubble. The same moon as the one in her ring.

               “We bought each other the same thing,” he said, laughing.

               It was the waxing half-moon from the night they shared their first kiss in the vampire den.

               When Lucía came back home, they immediately showed her their unplanned gifts for each other. She laughed for about ten minutes. She then recruited them to help cook dinner, which was an exciting ordeal. Catalina was happy to learn how to cook all of her favorite dishes.

               The three of them ended up having a beautiful dinner together, bright with laughter and conversation.

               The next few days passed in a blur. They went out, cooked together, played games, and watched movies. Before they knew it, the week was over and it was time for Catalina and Jungkook to travel again for the next leg of their trip. Catalina was reluctant to leave her mom, but she was absolutely filled with anticipation for her stay in the cabin.

#bts #bts fanfction #knights of the night #kim namjoon #kim seokjin #Jimmy K #min yoongi #jung hoseok #park jimin #kim taehyung #jeon jeongguk #namjoon #rm #jin #captain kirk #yoongi #suga #jhope #hobi #jimin #taehyung #v #jungkook #crystalstar

[pixelwisp-archive]

i want more orimakki 😩 !!! pls answer these q's i rly wanna know 🥺

Flora I love you so MUCH oh my god thank you for feeding me TT-TT (also I'm ABSOLUTELY SENDING THIS BACK FOR YOU AND OSAMU I WANNA KNOWWWW)

I’m gonna answer these Interview style because it sounds fun to do and because I can😌

This ended up taking me SO long because, per usual, I got way too carried away lmao I'm so sorry

Makki is blue and I'm orange! (Interviewer is red lmao)

1. Who loves flower crowns more?

“Ori, for sure”

“I’m bad at making them though, so I make Hiro make them for me” 

Makki looks at her like😒 and she laughs - he bites back a smile.

2. Who is the one who likes to cuddle?

"Hiro, for sure - I get a little weird about physical affection"

"She hates me"

"That's not true bub, you're just so hot"

"Thanks babe, I think you're pretty cute too"

Ori rolls her eyes and elbows him. "Next question"

3. Who has awful taste in music?

*simultaneously* "Hiro" "Me"

4. Who is the meme lover?

"I run a relatively popular account on instagram"

"I wake up every day to at least 30 new memes that he's spammed my phone with"

5. How did their second date go?

Ori starts laughing as Makki groans.

"He tried to take me to a park for a picnic-"

"Listen it would have been romantic but there was this fucking-"

"raccoon coming to grab our food-"

"and of course Ori is a dumbass ("HEY") and was ready to pet the literal wild animal ("he was so cute :(") so I tried to like shoo it away but-"

"It bit him and we ended up just sharing a cheese stick in the hospital"

"It was a disaster, to say the least"

"It's still one of my favorite dates, though"

"You just like seeing me in pain"

Ori laughs. "Not True!"

6. How many children do they want/have?

"17"

"absolutely not"

"we've talked about having two, maybe three"

"with a couple years in between. Gotta make sure they bully each other. It's important for character growth"

"We'll be sure to bully the oldest so they're not a weirdo like their mom"

Ori nods in agreement.

7. Who hides the weapons?

"I have a knife collection, does that count? I keep them in a display case on the wall"

8. Who is the better dancer?

Makki laughs. "Oh, me for sure"

"YOU?"

"Have you seen your dancing babe?"

"Have you seen YOUR dancing? What the hell is this?" *imitates this god awful windmill move*

"...okay, valid. We're both bad."

9. Do/Did they have a theme wedding?

"We're not married, marriage is for chumps."

Makki sighs. "We're not married *yet*."

"Gross, tryna tie me down stinky?"

"Been trying for years, bub"

Ori blushes, and looks away to hide her smile.

"...maybe"

Makki grins and leans in. "What?"

"I said maybe. I just-"

"I know, baby. Maybe is all I need."

10. What do their parents think of them dating?

"My parents are in love with Ori."

"My parents love him too!"

"Even your dads?"

"Yeah, my dads love you"

"Your step dad doesn't seem to like me much"

Ori furrows her brows. "which one?"

"I'm sorry, did you say 'which one?'"

"Oh, sorry. I have three dads. My mom, my dad, and then their husbands"

"I don't know, your mom's husband doesn't seem like he's warmed up to me"

"It took him years to even warm up to me. He shared his pot roast recipe with you, remember? that was his seal of approval"

Ori giggles while Makki looks at her suspiciously but eventually mumbles "if you say so"

11. Are they a super sappy couple?

"She clowns the shit out of me whenever I try"

Ori laughs. "I'm sorry I just don't know how to act when I'm embarrassed"

"I'm trying to woo you, not embarrass you, you jackass"

"*woo* me?!" Ori cackles

"I don't know why I even try"

(She goes up to him later, and takes his face in her hands, her demeanor more serious than before

"Hey, bub. You know I don't mean *you* embarrass me right? I just get awkward about affection"

He sighs and nuzzles into her palm

"I know you didn't, it's ok. I just love you too much sometimes, and its hard to reel it in"

"I love you too. So so much"

"I am gonna ask you to marry me someday. You know that?"

"I know, and my simp ass is gonna say yes. How gross is that"

Makki rolls his eyes, a smile on his face

"So gross")

12. How did they get together?

"We danced around each other for like 2 years"

"it was painful"

"Iwaizumi finally beat the confidence into me enough to kiss her"

"I don't know that you ever actually asked me out"

"Really? Oh, well then, wanna date?"

"Nah, you're a little weird"

"Damn ok, guess I'll call Mattsun" Ori laughs

13. Who asked the other to get married?

*more gagging noises while Makki sighs*

"It'll be me, clearly"

14. Who stays up too late and makes stupid jokes?

"Hiro. 100%"

"Hey, you stay up late too!"

"I know, but my jokes are always funny"

"rude"

15. Who is the nerd?

"Oh my god it's Ori"

"Hey, I converted you, fellow nerd. plus, you have a knife collection - if that's not nerd shit idk what is"

"touché"

16. Who knows the most obscure facts?

"Hiro"

"Did you know that penguins have knees?"

"I do now"

17. Who makes the other a flower crown?

"Hiro! His fingers are better suited for the weaving, I have weirdly small hands"

"Hey, I like your hands"

"Awh, babe<3"

18. Who likes to read?

"I do! If I'm not reading a physical book I'm always reading something on my phone!"

19. Who bothers the other person while the other person reads?

Makki grins, pointing to himself while Ori shoots him a playful glare

20. Who tutors the other?

"Hiro is actually wicked smart. He an invaluable study buddy"

"Ori is the definition of a bimbo"

"Nah I'm the shebo, I'm not hot enough to make bimbo status"

"Excuse me? Consensus says you are both very hot AND definitely belonging in the bimbo category"

"Consensus? What consensus"

Makki smiles, a little too innocently. "Group Chat"

"Oh my god"

21. Do they have similar taste in movies?

"Ori enjoys literally everything so it's really easy to find common ground"

"We change it up a lot, but we're usually end up with either a horror movie or we binge an anime"

22. How do their personalities compliment each other?

"We're both fucking weirdos"

"Yeah, and Hiro's calm complements my loud - he grounds me when I need it"

"goes both ways - I get loud too. Feelings are loud sometimes and that's ok"

Ori snorts. "Ok, dr.phil"

23. How do they tell everyone that they are going to be having a kid/adopting a child soon?

"Is like, texting them an option?"

"We'll take em' out for breadsticks or something"

"Oh lets have them open up like a lil onesie, our moms would die"

Ori laughs "What's it gonna say on it"

"'You're both grandmas now. Congrats, you old bitches'"

Ori wheezes, folding in on herself in her seat

"That's so fucking stupid, we are absolutely doing that"

24. Who has better fashion sense?

"Look at us. Look at how we're dressed"

"There are holes in my shirt"

"and that's his nice shirt"

"In my defense, it had holes when I bought it"

"So holes are fashionable now?"

"Apparently"

"Hobo chic"

25. Who will punch someone out if they are rude to their partner?

"Ori is a doormat-"

"RUDE"

"-Lemme finish babe - until it comes to her people. If someone's rude to me she is ready to throw hands in seconds flat"

"damn straight...would you fight for me?"

"Of course. you think I wouldn't?"

"Just making sure<3"

26. What songs do they sing together in the vehicle?

"EVERYTHING"

27. What other couple would your otp get along with?

Ori perks up "Flora and Osamu!!! I love the both of them so much, they're so cute together too"

"They're great people, plus Osamu gives us free food and honestly, what else do you need in a friend"

Ori slaps Makki's shoulder "Stop acting like you only like Osamu for his cooking"

"I'm only kidding!"

28. Who likes to prank the other?

"Ori does this thing where she'll do something nice for me and then go "get pranked!" when I notice"

"I do indeed do that"

"I am not kind. Sometimes I'll just, buy an air horn. And press it. while she's asleep."

Ori glares at Makki

"he does indeed do that"

29. Who is the one who loves to take pictures?

"I do"

"He's alwaysss taking pictures, but I hate getting my picture taken and he's super respectful of that"

"...yeah"

(Later, when Ori's stepped out for a minute

"I do take pics of her. She doesn't know it but I do"

Makki starts to show off an album full of candids of Ori

Makki sighs, a soft smile on his face "She's so pretty"

"Don't tell her about this please, she'll murder me")

30. How would they react if they found out they were soul mates?

"Oof"

"That's what you'd say? Oof?"

"It's an oof for you. stuck? with me? forever?"

"you doofus, there's no one else I'd rather have"

"you little fucker, you're gonna make me cry"

makki laughs and squeezes her hand "love you stinky"

Ori sniffles "Yeah I love you too I guess"

31. Where would they live?

"right now we live in an apartment in Osaka-"

"but eventually we wanna by a house. We're thinking of going back home to Miyagi"

"We miss the small town atmosphere"

32. What type of dragon would they own, if they could have one?

"oh my god, a little shoulder dragon would be so cute"

"ok but imagine how much money we'd save with something we could ride to work"

"shit, you're so right"

33. If they were both vampires, what type of vampires would they be?

"There are types of vampires?" looks to Makki, Makki shrugs

"Is dying an option?"

34. What would they dress up as, for Halloween?

"we do themed couple ones but like, not sexy ones"

"yeah, like for instance our friends went as a fireman and his girl was a dalmation, and we were-"

"bob ross and his panting!"

"...she was bob ross"

"this year I'm trying to get him to dress as mothman so I can dress up as a lamp"

35. Can they name each other’s favourite food?

"Ori loves chicken to the point where it's almost concerning"

"Hiro likes cream puffs"

"No no, they're Profiteroles"

"they're the same thing babe"

"but profiteroles sound so much fancier"

36. Do they have pet names for one another?

"The usual"

"Babe, baby-"

"stinky, fuckass-"

"bubs-"

"doofus, dumbass, nerd"

"nothing crazy"

37. How do they cheer each other up?

"I swear to god he's a psychic - he always knows exactly what I need. Sometimes I need space, sometimes I just need a hug, other times he'll have a whole self care night in prepared for me when I get home"

"Ori always knows what to do. She's not a snuggler but she will let me hold her for hours if it meant making me feel better. Honestly most of the time she holds me because - well, boobs"

"Takahiro!"

Makki laughs and jerks away as she pinches his side

38. Do they show a lot of PDA?

"I think we're not too bad. We hold hands, I'll give her the occasional kiss. She lets me wrap my arm around her sometimes"

"These questions are making me feel like a bad girlfriend. Let? :("

"hush, you're the best. You think I'd stick around if you were a bad girlfriend? Do you know how obsessed with you I am? The boys clown me for never shutting up about you even after all this time"

*Ori buries her face in her hands to hide the blush* "Oh my god you're so lame"

"That's her way of saying she loves me too :)"

39. How old were they when they got together?

"I was 22, Ori was 20"

"holy shit, almost four years?"

"Yep"

"wow"

40. Who is the one that would bring the puppy home?

"Me!"

"She's done it before. She named her Ripley"

41. Can they do yoga couple’s poses?

both start cackling "Absolutely not. We can try but it would be a disaster"

42. What is their song?

"Oh its-"

Castaways from the Backyardigans starts playing from Makki's phone as he grins.

"-our song is not Castaways, Hiro"

"It could be. We could decide it is right now"

"We are not making our song Castaways"

"oh c'moooonnnnn, it's a bop!"

Ori laughs "Its-"

"Your song by Elton John. It was playing when we kissed for the first time"

Ori covers her smile with her hand, her eyes soft as she looks at Makki

43. What does their room look like?

"A mess right now, Ori had to find an outfit for today so there are clothes everywhere"

Ori grins sheepishly

44. Who would be the one to kill zombies while the other keeps them grounded?

"Hiro would probably do the killing, I would be moral support"

"I dunno babe, I think if you snapped you could totally become a badass"

"You think so?"

"Hell yeah, I've seen you get mad at Mattsun enough times to know you can get scary as hell when you wanna"

45. Who makes the other breakfast in bed?

"we've done it for each other, it depends on the day to be honest"

46. Who loves kids more?

"Ori"

"But the kids LOVE Hiro so much its crazy, and he's so good with them"

"I like kids well enough but they're so rude and for what"

"I find their lack of filter funny!"

"If you ever feel your ego is too big, just talk to a seven year old. They'll drag to hell and back with no hesitation"

47. Do either of them have a crazy ex?

"I dunno. Do you?"

"No. Do you?"

"Nope"

"Cool"

48. What are their favourite colours?

"Hiro's is this very specific red color"

"Ori doesn't have one, it changes all the time"

"this is true"

49. Who likes to cook?

"Oh I love cooking!"

"She does majority of the cooking but we sometimes cook together"

"he is utter chaos in the kitchen but we always have a good time, even if he make my blood pressure go through the roof"

50. Who is the forgetful one?

"Hey Ori, what'd you have for breakfast this morning."

"I- um. An Iced Coffee?"

"Final answer?"

"....yes"

"Bzzzt. Wrong. You had cereal :)"

51. Does either of them know how to fight?

"I don't mean to brag, but I've taken Tai chi lessons"

"Babe, you signed up for those lessons after we binged Avatar, and you only went to four of those classes before quitting because it was too hard"

"Those four lessons taught me enough to kick someone's ass for you though"

Ori laughs "I'm sure they did"

52. What do they do for Valentines Day?

"We have this tradition of going to the store and each of us take turns blindly picking out snacks, pajamas, and either a movie/video game/or craft project and we stay in and have a little pamper day"

"we also absolutely RAID the store next day when the candy is half off"

53. Who swears more?

"We both swear a lot to be honest"

"Oh my god we're so bad"

54. Who has the better comebacks?

"Hiro, 100%"

"Ori is quick too though"

"But you go right for the jugular"

"I'm not mean to you though"

"Oh no! I just mean with others, like Oikawa - you drag that man within an inch of his life"

Makki laughs "Oh ok yeah that's fair"

55. Who would start a fight with another parent at a bake sale?

"Me. Like I said, Ori is a doormat. She is so afraid of confrontation someone could literally spit on her and she'd apologize to them"

"It sounds so bad when you put it like that"

56. Who reads buzzfeed?

"Hiro says he does them ironically, but I'll be reading something on my phone and he'll start asking me obscure questions, and then I realize he's trying to get me to build a smoothie so he can find out with 'Desperate Houswife' I am"

"She got Gabrielle"

"Which isn't even accurate, I'm totally more of a Susan"

"You have some of Gabrielle's spice, though"

"What did you get?"

"Me? oh, I got Lynette"

"kinda accurate, actually"

57. Who is the hopeless romantic?

"I am, she makes fun of me but I know she loves it"

"I do, honestly"

58. Do either of them know how to do a handstand?

"I do!"

59. Who can rap better?

"oh god, neither of us"

"speak for yourself"

"go on babe, rap for them"

"...well I can't right now"

"exactly"

60. Do either of them want to go sky diving?

"I'd be down"

"I love the idea of it but oof, I'm too chicken shit"

61. What do they usually text about?

Makki pulls out his phone

"'hey babe, we're out of eggs' - that was Ori"

"'dog' - with a pic attached of said dog, that was from me"

"11/10, 'I hope he knows what a good boy he is', that was Ori's response"

"Then Ori ranted to me about Uraraka's character development"

"the wasted potential is appalling"

"absolutely it is. 3 hours later, from me - 'I forgot eggs'"

62. Who is the dramatic one?

"me, for sure"

"She's self aware though so its not so bad"

63. Is either one confrontational?

"Not really? We both avoid confrontation whenever possible. If something needs to be said though, I don't really have any reservations about it"

64. What is their favourite cuddle position?

"Me as the big spoon, I much prefer holding him I think, its less hot that way"

"Plus, boobs :3"

Ori groans as Makki laughs "I hate you"

65. Who are their favourite musical artist(s)?”

"Ooooh thats a toughie, we listen to so much"

66. What are their parenting styles?

"I tend to be the bad guy"

"That's not true!"

"Why do you think kids like you better? I'm the one who makes them eat veggies for a snack and you bribe them with ice cream"

"I promise we'll share the bad guy role when we have our own"

Ori narrows her eyes at Makki, sticking her tongue out at him "we better"

67. Who would be the more laid back one?

"Hiro, I get wound like a fucking top sometimes"

"You stress easily, but its ok, when you're stressed you get mean and its kinda hot"

"I'm glad my breakdowns are sexy to you"

Makki laughs "You know that's not what I meant"

68. Who listens to more vulgar music?

"Ehh, neither of us really"

"not our jam"

69. Do either of them have secrets even the other doesn’t know?

"...do you?"

"....no"

"That was suspish"

"I'm sorry did you just say 'suspish'?"

"don't change the subject! what are you hiding?"

"Nothing!! I swear"

"Pinky?"

"Pinky"

(later, while Ori's out of the studio, he shows a picture of the ring to the camera.

"So, yeah. There is one secret. I'm really bad at lying though so let's not put me on the spot like that anymore please" The man looks d a m p with sweat lmao)

70. Who is their go to couple for a double date?

"FLOSAMU, 100%. We're overdue too, I miss them!"

71. Do they tip the waiter/waitress on their date?

"Generously"

"If you don't tip you're a jackass"

72. How do they work out a fight?

"Communication is key. We often give each other the silent treatment but it usually is just to clear our heads so we can come back to talk it out"

"He's so mature when it comes to our relationship. The way he takes charge when I'm flailing and don't know what to do or how to proceed is so sexy" Ori starts fanning herself as if to emphasis her point, a teasing grin plastered on her face

73. Who brings home an illegal pet?

"Hiro will bring anything home if it's injured. It could be a snake and if he's worried its hurt I will come home to it in the bath"

"you gotta save the animals, babe"

"Most people would call a wildlife facility though, not take them to their tiny city apartment"

74. What side of the bed do each of them sleep on?

"I sleep on the left! I don't think either of us are particularly picky about it though"

"We usually wake up sprawled anyway with no clear sign of where we were before"

75. What is their favorite photo of them two together?

"There's a picture someone took of us dancing at a wedding. Ori is mid laugh in that photo and she's just - shit, she's so pretty."

"Hiro what the fuck why are you so sappy today"

"I dunno - I just think you're neat"

Ori's lips tremble a tiny bit. She sniffles. "It's my favorite photo too."

76. Who takes longer in the bathroom?

"Oh my god-"

"Okay-"

"SHE TAKES FOREVER"

"OKAY, LISTEN-"

"SHE ONLY GOES ON TIKTOK WHEN SHE GOES TO THE BATHROOM"

"I JUST GO THROUGH MY NOTIFICATIONS"

"SHE IS NEVER - STOP HITTING ME - SHE IS NEVER QUICKER THAN 30 MINUTES"

"YOU ARE SO DRAMATIC"

"DON'T EVEN GET ME STARTED ON SHOWERS"

77. Who has more songs on their ipod?

"Hiro, I kinda keep to the stuff I know, while he's constantly adding new music"

78. What movie did they first see together?

"Uhhh I think it was-"

"It was Princess Mononoke, you were appalled when I said I hadn't seen it yet"

"Honestly I still am. How do you go through 20 years of your life without having seen Princess Mononoke?" Ori shrugs

79. What do they like to see each other in?

"nothing"

"not sure what I expected, really"

"I mean was there really any other answer?"

80. Who makes jokes during inappropriate times?

"Oh god. Both of us. We are so terrible"

"Sometimes Ori will nudge me if I'm being especially bad but she is usually the one egging me on because there is nothing cuter than her trying to hold in a laugh"

81. At what age do they discuss the possibility of children?

"We started talking about it a few months ago"

"It wouldn't be any time soon either, its just discussing the topic so we know where each of us stand"

"Yeah, there's still a lot for us to figure out"

"Like, you know, finances and getting married and stuff"

Ori bites her lip "...yeah, and stuff."

82. What do they love about each other the most?

"It's probably a cop out to say everything"

"please, you don't love everything, I'm a mess"

"but you're MY mess" Ori smiles and kicks him playfully

"This is going to sound super cheesy, but I just love his heart? He's loves so loudly and so wholly. With everyone and everything around him. He's just such a good person and it's insane to think he somehow chose to be with me, a human dumpster"

"You were so romantic until you called yourself a dumpster"

"It was getting too soft, I gotta keep my bruh girl reputation"

"You're such a dork"

83. Who is the one that sees the big picture, while the other focus’s on the small details?

"I think we're both kind of big picture people"

"No, babe, you are obsessive over minute details"

"No I'm not!"

"Everything takes you twice as long because you are constantly quadruple checking if its ok"

"..."

"and you get so stressed when you're given a project or a problem that's even the tiniest bit vague"

"well, I-"

"And don't even get me started on when you're cleaning, you always take forever because you go through every single item you've ever owned even if you know you're gonna toss or keep it"

"Okay, I feel really attacked right now" Makki laughs

84. What would they write on their partner’s social media’s for their anniversary?

"I usually go with a tried and true mixture of sappy and funny. I post a couple photo of us that I like or just a standalone of him and I give a cute little snippet talking about how lucky I am"

"Every year I just go on a rant about how much I love her. I'm always overwhelmed on anniversaries so I keyboard smash my way through the post."

85. Who is bad at math?

"Me, I don't understand any of it. Hiro is actually pretty good at it though"

86. Who googles everything?

"I've caught her trying to google where her glasses are"

"OKAY to be FAIR I was googling to see what the most likely places would be, it was just to give me ideas"

"And where were they?"

"*sigh* in the fridge"

"why?"

"because I was on autopilot and I assumed it was the butter"

87. Who does stuff on impulse?

"Oh, me. Ori does sometimes but she always regrets whatever she impulse did"

"its normally shopping and then I'm sad because I'm broke again"

88. How do they comfort each other when they are helpless to do anything about the situation?

"honestly? We learned this the hard way, but...just being there, letting them know they can lean on you when they need to. Being a pillar and giving them the space and comfort to let them tell you what they need and how you can help. Communication is so important in a relationship"

"You said you learned that the hard way? What do you mean by that?"

Ori and Makki share a look

"It's a long story. Another time, maybe"

89. What is an inside joke they have?

They both immediately start laughing

"Are you also thinking-"

"Yes! What about-"

"*incoherent wheezing*"

"well there's the-"

"or the-"

"oh my god remember-"

all the sentences go unfinished, laughter dissolving any chance of you ever figuring any of them out.

90. Who makes the other smile with almost no effort at all?

"I think its mutual, sometimes we will literally just look at each other and we'll smile without even realizing it."

"We're so gross"

"Ugh, I know." But they smile at each other

91. What is their favourite holiday?

"New years! Christmas is always nice but its stressful with gift giving. New years is always stress free and a good time, plus Ori loves visiting the shrines the next day"

"It's so peaceful, and seeing everyone pay their respects fills me with an overwhelming appreciation for humanity."

92. Who is the one that is calm and collected while the other is angry and destructive?

Ori pouts.

"I'm the angry one. I know I am. I'm a menace"

"You're not a menace babe, you just feel a little more than others"

"Are you like high right now or something? What has got you so wise and therapist-y"

"Love." Makki wiggles his eyebrows as she scoffs, her soft giggles betraying the eye roll

93. What is their favourite board game to play?

"Clue!"

94. Who accidentally sets something on fire?

"Okay, it's me, it's happened more than once too"

"She doesn't know the first thing about safety in the kitchen"

"I want to argue so bad but I just know I can't" she sighs

95. Who has the car ready while the other is robbing the store?

"I'm robbing. Ori would get distracted"

"valid"

96. What artist/group did they go to for their first concert?

"Mother Mother"

"It was INSANE"

97. Who sleep talks?

"Hiro does" Ori starts giggling, pulls up the sleep app on her phone

"Wanna listen?"

98. Who is the more social one?

"Oh, me, definitely. She is more talkative but Ori rarely initiated conversation with new people or if she's in a new environment at all"

99. What are their karaoke songs?

"I have to be absolutely trashed before we even attempts Karaoke but we do a duet and its either Bohemian Rhapsody or one of our cheesy love songs"

100. Who would get up on stage and make a fool of themselves just to make the other laugh?

"Hiro!! He does it all the time and I love him for it"

"Awh, love you too babe"

"And that's a wrap!"

Makki looks at Ori, grabbing her hand and instinctively intertwining their hands together. "Ready to go, stinky?"

Ori smiles, bringing their entangled hands up to lips as she presses a soft kiss to his skin.

"Ready."

#orimakki #whispers #familiars #flora #this was so fun and it took me SO LONG because i decided to make it stupid complicated lmao #but I'm so happy with it its cheesy as hell and I don't even care lmao #thank you for sending this in flora!! sweet angel you are too good to me :D<3

[madmadmilk]

One After The One PART 2 | Tom Holland x Reader

Tinder BIO | soft TEASER | PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 | PART 4 | >>

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Summary: If a fool knows they’re a fool, are they really a fool? (The answer is yes.) You weigh the pros and cons of meeting T, Blurry Boy, Tom-Holland-Imposter, but curiosity tips the scales.

Warnings: Cursing, Suspicion, some Hard to Swallow Pills, and a million blurry pics

Word Count: 6K grains of sand in your boots

-

“... What?”

You throat ran dry, and you’d be lying if several things didn’t just suddenly click in your mind. The pictures, or lack of pictures. “T.” His bio. It makes all makes total sense, and then it totally doesn’t.

 None of that it made it any easier to believe the words coming out of her mouth.

“I… I think he’s using pictures of Tom Holland,” your friend exhales, repeating herself slowly.

…

This can’t be happening. You feel your brows furrow and face fall–– unsure of what to say or how to feel.

Tom Holland on Tinder? 

No fucking way.

“... Who..? How..?” you reach up to scratch your eyebrow, hoping to stir up something to deflect her suggestions.

“You know, Spider-Man? We just watched him in that movie?” Liza starts slowly, then pretends to shoot webs, nearly bumping into her drink. “Thwip-thwip, yeah?”

You begin frown and shake your head, you wave away her hands.

“Yeah, uhm, yeah I know who he is. But there’s no way that’s––“

She gives you a knowing and cautious looking, tilting her head towards you in question. Her lower lip juts out and she pulls out her phone. You can assume she’s looking up pictures of the actor, and soon enough she has some glamour shot of him in a maroon suit.

He had glasses on. The same ones in that goddamn picture he had sent the other day.

That’s not...

You hold your phone search through your chats, scrolling past conversations and laughs, looking for that one picture. Your heads rest together as you swipe up slowly to show her the picture of him that he had sent… the one with the glasses.

There’s no way––

 But you don’t say anything, solely waiting for her confirmation or denial.

“Friendly neighborhood romantic…” Liza mutters softly as she holds both phones closer to herself. “Friendly neighborhood Spider-Man…”

You take it from her and zoom in; sure enough, all those details fall into place.

Fuck.

You blink, comparing the smiles. They look identical.

But?

But Tom Holland is a A-list actor, smiley, pretty, bright and out of reach. You can’t even entertain the idea of meeting a ~celebrity~ through a shitty fucking dating app–– a hook-up one at that. It just doesn’t happen.

And the thought of him wanting to spend time with you?

“No… that’s not right,” you finally manage to say. “Uhm. It can’t be Tom.”

Upon saying that out loud, you catch yourself. You find yourself believing that it could have been him. So, it’s hard to say which part you were denying.

Liza does the critical thinking for you.

“I’m sorry, babe. This guy is lying to you.”

Liza looks at you with her big brown eyes, and you can see a little bit of pity. She nods slowly and turns away, leaving you with two phones in your hands and doubt in your heart. 

“He’s using Tom Holland’s pictures, he’s not telling you the truth, and he’s not… offering you anything else about himself. You know?”

What?

You had gotten so comfortable with the idea of him, of “T.” Of “Blurry Boy,” his own person... and not with the reality of who he could be and what he’s doing to you.

The reality that he’s still really fucking suspicious, a stranger whose life and intentions you don’t actually know.

He’s definitely not Tom Holland, regretfully, and he’s probably not like any of the pictures he’s posted–– blurry, edited, whatever. And the conversations? Maybe it’s all a persona.

You don’t know a single thing about him.

Oh…

It stings more than you thought it would, even when you knew this was already a shaky start.

Liza watches you press your tongue to the side of your cheek, processing this with no argument or fight left. She feels bad having told you outright, but you both know that it’s what you would have wanted. The truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth.

She hugs your shoulders, as you slide her phone back towards her.

You let her hold you as you try to let the shame and shock pass.

Your phone pings softly on the table.

You read the message as it glows on your screen. You scoff as soon as you check it, because who else could it be?

BB: I bet you forgot to watch the episode lol

No.

You forgot you shouldn’t trust him.

-

…

BB: ?

BB: Hello?

BB: Hey, sorry idk if you’re busy or something right now. Just wondering how you were

BB: 👀

BB: Sorry, did I do something to make you mad?

Yes–– no. Yeah, kinda.

You pull down your phone screen, musing over the fact that more messages might appear. He’s sent something new every few hours since your talk with Liza earlier that day.

God, you’re glad you don’t have your read receipts on.

You spend some time lazing around in bed, hair up and out of your face, your pants crumpled and kicked on the floor nearby. You suck in your cheeks as you pick up your phone.

You’ve been cycling through social media all day–– not looking at anything in particular, but definitely avoiding texts from You Know Who.

You know what the messages say, you know that he’s wondering where you are and what you’re doing, but how do you face him after your fatal revelation with Liza? How do you recover? Well, you start by sorting out your buzzing thoughts….

First, you feel fucking embarrassed. There’s a burning, nauseous heat on your face, all because you didn’t realize those pictures were SO obviously fake, and that you were kinda into Whoever He Is.

Second, you feel righteous anger, for being dragged around even though he promised. Ha ha ha. He’s one hundred percent a stranger on the internet, alright. And you’re a fool for letting yourself get strung along.

But him using pictures of a well-known, well-loved, heavily-adored celebrity?? Isn’t that, like, really fucking bold? Embarrassing even?

(Almost as embarrassing as you not noticing this, but you don’t let yourself dwell on that part for too long)

The angel on your shoulder reasons that, “maybe he’s still the same person underneath this facade–– he just looks nothing like what he has posted. You could still like him no matter what he looked like, right?”

While the devil swoops in with some hard facts, laughing in pity, “A guy or person who conceals themselves with lies is not worth keeping at all.”

And in this case, you have to agree with that flaming hot truth. You’re ready to fold those fleeting feelings, shove them in a box, and kick ‘em to the curb along with that inner monologue–– but as you said in the very beginning… if you knew you were being fooled from the start, are you really getting hurt?

The goblin of curiosity pulls at your sleeve and offers this funny sentiment, “Knowing this and talking to him should be fine if you establish the fact that you know that ‘this’ isn’t real.”

And that’s where you are now, staring at your phone, at the multitude of double, triple, quadruple texts that have accumulated through the day. You exhale, and draft up a frail response.

You: hey, sorry. I was busy

His answer comes almost too soon even while you were approaching the later hours of a long day.

BB: Hey!, no, no it’s okay. Sorry if i freaked out, I was just worried

You: what, you missed me?

BB: something like that. You’re definitely the best reason I’m checking my phone nowadays, besides work

You: how sweet

BB: actually, I took your advice. I turned on Do Not Disturb at like 9. It feels like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders

You: that’s great!

BB: well, I know there’s going to be a shit ton to read in the morning, and I’m still stressed about that. But I guess I’ll get used to it. Gotta save time for myself! 😤🙏(praying emoji)

You: definitely

…

BB: hey, are you okay? You seem distant

You: yeah, no. I’m fine. Just a little tired

…

BB: haha, you’re obviously not. Are you still out? Or back home now?

You: I’m back home, but it’s been a long day

BB: oh, okay! You should head to bed then. Talk to you later?

You: yeah, I guess I should

BB: good night! Sleep tight 😊 (blush smile emoji)

You: good night

-

The next day goes by with a few more one-sided text exchanges. “Blurry Boy” was really single-handedly carrying each of those conversations–– and while they’re interesting and you’re still replying, you find it hard to bring yourself to believe any of it. It has no real weight anymore, to your life or in application.

You can’t stop thinking about the fact that he’s LYING to you. Straight to your fucking face.

You watch the conversations in the third person and are almost impressed with the lengths that he goes to keep up with the same story. No loss of momentum, the perfect amount of enthusiasm.

But by now, he must suspect something. The way he asks leading questions in an effort to get you to speak more. 

Unfortunately for him, you can’t help but be cold in response.

What you don’t realize, is that you want him to ask you what was wrong, one more time. You don’t realize that you want an opportunity to be mad. You want him to give you the chance to be. 

So, stop being so fucking nice, blurry boy.

Because you’re not fucking nice at all.

You ignore him for the evening, going out to run some errands so that your hands were actually busy. You silenced your phone as you wound down again for the night, only sparing it a glance at the last second.

There are a few messages waiting for you.

BB: hey, are we okay?

You: we?

BB: yeah, sorry if i’m jumping to conclusions but I’ve felt a little special here. If not, I get it. I’d just like to know

You: you’re definitely something

BB: what’s wrong?

You take a sharp inhale, tucking your hair behind your ears, and sitting up in bed to fully type out your feelings. Your opportunity to be angry is HERE, you can go off and spit words and fight–– 

You: you’re lying to me, right to my face. It was fine at first, but I still can’t wrap my head around why you’re doing this to me. It feels like we’re playing pretend and just ignoring the fact that there is NO TRUST here at all. I don’t know WHO you are and you haven’t given me any idea of who you could be! You’re using fake pictures and a fake name, and while it’s been fun… there’s nothing here. There’s nowhere “we” could go from here. If you want to continue, I’m going to need SOMETHING from you, if you expect anything from me

You drop your phone in your lap with a satisfying thump. You turn away, stretching and rolling your shoulders back in triumph.

Take that, “T.”

You shut your eyes as you imagine this mystery dude opening his phone to read out an arrow you’re shooting straight at this heart. (And it’s not the good kind). You can’t ignore that it hurts your own feelings it’s a little, not in a way that’s personal but…it’s hollowing. You didn’t know him personally, no, not at all, but a shade of it must have been real. There’s a real person in there, somewhere.

You see the message sit alone, untouched. There’s no bouncing dots like usual, no rapid silly response or praise or affection. And that’s annoying. And that’s annoying that that’s annoying.

But you got the last word in, so, what else can you ask for.

You nudge your phone further away, trying not to expect more. Siting in silence for a beat, pinching your cheeks. God, you hate this self-absorbed, attention-seeking behavior–– but you can’t help it.

You let out an exasperated whine, shaking your body to let go of the lingering vibes. You pick up your phone and snuggle back down into bed, ready to sleep after some idle scrolling. 

You’re ready to not have to worry about this thrilling 5-day experience, sure to be embarrassed about it later but… maybe you can make a story out of it. Though, that would only come after a long wink and the accompaniment of alcohol. God, you don’t even want to think about how Liza has probably already told K… Ugh!

PING!

You scramble as you hear the shrill bell tone. Your phone is bouncing in your hands as you half sit-up again. 

A message. 

You want to ignore it–– but who are you kidding.

BB: can i call you?

…

You stare at it. 

Is this an olive branch? Is he reaching out to you to show you that he really wants this? That he cares enough to finally share a fucking piece of himself?

Regardless, the call can only prove that he’s not the guy in the pictures. It’ll only show you that he’s just a guy. If that.

You rake your mind to remember what Tom Holland’s speaking voice sounded like, and immediately kick yourself for even thinking it could actually fucking be him. There’s just no fucking way. 

But let’s see how far off this guy is.

You: only for a second.

Your heart thuds unevenly as you prepare yourself–– only you have no idea what to expect. There’s nothing to go off of.

And within the minute that you sent your message, your phone rings. A blank contact comes up, “Blurry Boy” in white letters. You listen to the shrill ringtone, only picking up before it ends.

“Hey.”

There it is, his voice for the first time. It’s sleepy and thick, croaky even. He doesn’t sound like the squeaky and lively Tom Holland you knew from the silver screen. Though, it’s a stretch to even compare the two at all.

“Hey,” you speak demurely. Cool, calm, collected. And you wait. You want him to bring it up himself.

“What, not excited about our first call?”

Your face warms at his straightforwardness–– briefly crumbling under the pressure. Over text you could easily sort yourself out, but here…. you couldn’t hesitate.

“Well, I’m just glad you don’t sound like a 16 year-old boy.”

He laughs breezily, slightly muffled through the phone.

“Hahaha, I told you. I’m 23.”

“Mhm, well the way your voice cracked there really proves it.”

“Hey, come on now.” He laughs again, and you can hear rustling sheets and the faint chatter of music.

His laugh is quite pleasant, raspy and boyish. Familiar even. You want to imagine that he’s wooed by your maturity and confidence, by the way that a lull settles. But it’s more likely that he’s gathering his thoughts, or collecting his courage.

“This…. doesn’t prove anything,” you start slowly. You purse your lips, nervous ticks coming alive even through the phone.

For the moment, you feel shy, but shove it when you remember that he’s lying.

“I still don’t know who you are––“

“I know. I know, and I’m sorry–– I can’t tell you yet, but I trust you.”

“Yeah, you’ve said something like that before.”

”Uhm, yeah–– I… I wanted to call you to show you that I’m real and I care about you.... and I wanted to hear your voice too.”

There was sincerity there, but you don’t let yourself fall for it.

“But how long will it be before I get to see your real face? –– Without meeting you in a dark alley all alone.”

“Hm?”

“My friends are convinced that … you’re lying to me. In more ways that one. With the profile, with the pictures, the name.”

“Oh–– you told you friends–– uhm... Do you think I’m lying?”

“Maybe not all of it, but It’s a big world out there. And–– I don’t know.”

“But seeing my face would clear it up for you?”

He breathes deeply, and you can hear him clear his throat. The sheets rustle again.

“It’d be a start.”

“Mhm.”

“Make or break it, actually,” you manage to chuckle, offering him that relief. You wonder if physical attraction would be a big factor— like obviously, it would be something but…. you’ve come to know him as a person. So, do you care?

(The answer is yes, you do care, but poetically, you could enjoy his company just like this.)

BUT he is lying; if it’s not about one thing, it’s the other.

“It would definitely make me feeling a little bit better. To know that you’re not a monster under the bed, or some creep–– arguable but still.”

“I told you, I’m hot. You’ve got nothing to worry about,” he laughs with a bit of edge, treading the line.

You laugh too, tension easing. He seems like an easygoing guy, willing to be the butt of a joke with confidence.

“That has a totally different effect, hearing you say that out loud. It’s still weird.”

“Well, what do you think I look like? Based off–– based off what you have.”

“Well, I hardly have anything so…. I don’t know. I want to say ‘tall, dark, and handsome,’ but I’m pretty sure you have… fair skin, brown hair and… nice shoulders? That’s all I got.”

“You’re 3 for 3 so far.”

“You’re just saying that.”

Pause.

“Sorry it’s taking so long.”

“Yeah, you’re weird.”

You’ve already flipped the a million possibilities of who he could be. Nothing would even surprise you anymore. But listening to his soothing voice has calmed you like the way his words always have. The conversation flows over you, and you slide deep into your bed.

You pull the covers up over your shoulders, swimming in your thoughts. It shouldn’t be that hard to reveal himself, should it? You’re both investing time into this–– reckless and blind as it may be. You would need to know eventually. You’re not being unreasonable.

Right?

“If…. If I show you my face, properly, will you keep it a secret?” There’s an anxious tone in his light voice. Every syllable ended with uncertainty, as if he didn’t believe what he was saying.

“If you want…? Why?”

“I just… you just need to. Please?”

“Yeah, uhm, I can do that.”

“Thank you,” and there he lets out an airy sigh of relief. You hear rustling again, as if he fell back on the bed. Ha?

You laugh in excitement at his small promise, you rub your eye with your knuckle as you tease,

“What, are you a celebrity or something?”

…

“How did you know?”

“Hahaha, shut uppp, T. I’m joking–– I just want to match a proper face to the person I’m talking to,” your laugh trails off. You swallow softly, “I have your voice now, so… help me piece it together now, please?”

He stays silent, making you second guess the sincerity that you just showed him. Before you can take it back he starts slow and quiet,

“If I do tell you who I am, would you go on a date with me?”

Your heart squeezes, and your clench your toes. This should be no surprise or celebration, to be honest, this is the point of it all. To find love, or at least the next lay.

“Well, that depends if you’re my type,” coy, coy, play it coy.

“I’m everybody’s type.” His voice rolls, deep, rough, ringing in your ears.

You blink, your cheek lifting in a half pointed smile. You return his tone,

“Ok, well, then I dare you. Show me.”

“I will. Are you free on Friday–– Tomorrow?”

“Already setting up a date? You’re getting waaaay ahead of yourself, dude.”

Pause.

“But yeah, sure, I might be free tomorrow.”

“Great,” he laughs at your switching moods. You feel that heat on your face again, shutting your eyes tight, and he offers a bit more, 

“Meet me by the beach? 9 PM?”

You scoff softly, he’s pushing it. It’s a public space, kind of not. It’ll be cool, breezy, dark… secluded.

But you could easily let someone know where you’re gonna be, and when to expect you back. Fair enough?

“Hmmm, send me a picture of yourself and I’ll let you know if I can make it.”

“Huh?”

“Think of it as insurance. Or a sneak peak,” you laugh softly, turning your cheek to rub you nose against your pillow.

He lets out a long, dry chuckle, taking a deep breath. You can hear him settle and stretch himself out too, “First thing in the morning. And text me back.”

“Sure!”

“Then... I’ll leave you to it. Good night, Y/N. So lovely speaking to you.” His voice is so heavy and warm, so close to your ear.

You’re almost disappointed that he cut the conversation short. A dark cloud of doubt looms over; maybe he needs time to fabricate a believable photo, maybe he’s nervous, maybe he’s getting cold feet.

You stumble on on what to say as you snap yourself back–– the worrying could be saved for tomorrow. For now, you’ll both savor this short, sweet moment. 

“Likewise. Good night, Blurry Boy.” 

You hear him exhale softly, and pull the phone away from your ear. You look at it in your hands, feeling your lips purse. Your face is flushed hot, and your stomach flips in anticipation.

Tomorrow.

-

“No FUCKING way,”

You open your phone first thing in the morning and... low and behold… he actually fucking sent you a picture of Tom Holland. Like he really had the guts to fucking do it. 

Come on, Blurry Boy.

This is not real. No way, no way, no fucking WAY.

You heart falls at the thought of losing this ~friendship~ or whatever it is. You put time into this and now its… kind of falling apart at the seams.

You hold your squished cheeks and spin on your heel, wondering if you should show it to Liza or Ry–– to share the incredulous feelings but… You remember The Promise.

It’s not that… big of a deal, especially since this scenario is fake as fuck, but you’d feel guilty. (damn.)

And also ashamed.

You straight up got fucking catfished.

Like he really had you in the snares.

There’s no way that he’s Tom Holland, and even if he “was” there’s no way that Tom would be in your city. And even though he’s a fucking liar–– keeping this a secret for another day or two… wouldn’t hurt anyone.

God.

You fall back onto your couch, legs hanging over the edge as you stare at the picture. Your thumbs hover over the keyboard, wondering what to say…

The words come quick.

You: what the fuck, are you joking?

Come on, he had to be pulling your leg. Or expecting you to reply like that. You dont’ know what to think, especially when it takes him an hour or two to reply. Uncharacteristic of him.

BB: I’m really not

You: dude. Shut up. You’re not Tom Holland

BB: I am. And I can prove it. Come see me tonight, please

You have to scoff, nearly throwing your phone across the room. UHM, this has sirens and red flags written all over it. Akskdfdjhfad, like??? There aren’t even words to describe this frustration and obvious deceit.

You: Uhm, no no no. Call me right now

You were more than peeved now, honestly. He promised you honesty and some vulnerability, and this is just fucking stupid.

BB: I’m sorry, I really can’t. I’m out for work right now. Meetings all day. But I PROMISE you that I’m not lying.

Ok, funny. That’s exactly what a liar would say.

You don’t bother replying back, not sure what to even say besides, “Fuck you.” But you figure that silence might be more of a sting than any words you could conjure up.

How many tricks would you fall for? This is stupid, this isn’t fair. There’s nothing to redeem here, it’s over.

He can’t just drop a tremendous bombshell, and act like it’s real??

Who the fuck does he think he is?

There’s no way he’s fucking Spider-Man, dude.

There’s just no fucking way.

-

FRIDAY NIGHT, AROUND 6 PM

BB: So… what do you think? Will I see you later? 🤞 (fingers crossed emoji)

You: I can’t believe you’re still messaging me and making jokes. This is cruel, dude

BB: I know it seems crazy, but I’m not lying. I can explain everything! But in person would be the easiest way. I’m still running around the city, but meet me at 9

You: bullshit

BB: My name is Tom Holland. I’m taking a break in this city, and I’m looking for someone to spend time with. But I HAVE to lie low. And trust you and I want to see you and I want to spend time with you

You: You know this is fucking insanity right ?? I can’t trust you. 

BB: I know, I’m sorry. But I’ll answer anything you want if you come see me

You: i don’t know

BB: well, will i see you later tonight?

…

BB: let me know if you can make it. I’ll be there regardless but…

…

BB: Hope you see you there, Y/N.

You put your phone down squinting. You’re down for taking risks and meeting new people and trying new things–– but this whole thing is just wrong. This is too unreal to even entertain. No matter how many times you say it… It won’t sink in.

He says he can’t call, he can’t send anymore pictures, he can’t facetime–– what’s with the grand reveal and security clearance? 

He’s probably gonna eat your fucking face off, that’s why.

You look back at your feet, covered in fuzzy socks. Would you even get out of this blanket burrito to meet A Guy?

(Much less, a guy who definitely wants to wear your skin.)

It’s after classes and work and your social life, you don’t have anything planned for today. Your friends are off on dates with one another doing god knows what, and you’re at home comfy in your holey sweatpants with nothing but the warmth of your laptop and chatter of a TV show you haven’t been paying attention to.

Sigh.

There’s nothing to lose–– you chant over and over. Sometimes, that mentality is what gets you to move forward and try new things. Or gets you into trouble.

Haha.

We all know you’re going to get off your ass and go, but not before checking in with a few people. ‘Cos, you’re not entirely stupid.

“Time for a Tea Party,” you mumble to yourself. You resign to text the more rational of your friends, Liza and Ry. 

Liza has the perfect amount of encouragement and honesty, while Ryan has the best common sense and gives expert.

Sorry, K, you’re too protective and sorry, Sam, you’re way to fucking chaotic.

GC: TEA PARTY

Liza: Ur actually going to MEET HIM??? 😱

Ry: you said you weren’t going to get into trouble

You: is he trouble?? Is this bad??

Ry: YES. he could be anyone. Do you even know what he looks like?

You: … not really. He hasn’t told me much about anything. But, this is like a chance to find out?

Liza: oh my god you should go. Just go and get it over with

Ry: I don’t know… this doesn’t sound like a great idea.

Liza: i guess, one of us could come with Y/N?

You: nah, I’ll be fine alone

Ry: you sure? We could hang out somewhere in the back or something

You: no, it’s okay. I’ll just let you now when I go and drop my location with you

Liza: Phew! This is going to be SO messy. I love it. Can’t wait to hear back from you.

Liza: If we hear back from you 👀 (side eye emoji)

You: Ha ha, this is my actual life you know??

Ry: you only live once

Liza: And pls live long enough to tell your friends what happens

You: so supportive

Liza: love you! Wear your cute undies just in case!

Ry: bring pepper spray

You: Got it

You’re thrown into a frenzy. It’s like 7:45 PM now, and you haven’t showered yet, you haven’t decided what you’re going to wear or how you’re going to get there–– and more importantly, you haven’t fucking texted him back yet. 

And he hasn’t sent you anything else.

Oh, the mind games.

The way he’s making himself sad and vulnerable, but mysterious and coy.

While you get to choose to be the sucker, or the loser.

Lose, lose with great odds.

You turn on the shower, stepping into the warm steam to clear your mind.

It was made after all, you were going to meet him.

-

Yeah, you were going. But you still haven’t said anything. 

You don’t want him to know–– so you could totally just walk the other way if you see something that you don’t like. 

I mean, he knew what you looked like though. Hell, he even compared you to his ex-girlfriend, so… might as well keep the upper-hand and peer from the shadows first.

Or give yourself a head start to run away.

Though, running through sand would definitely be a big fucking obstacle.

You reach the end of the beach, standing atop beaten wooden stairs. The breeze stings your cheek, and it’s a lot colder than you thought it would be.

You’re wearing some dark high-waisted jeans and a simple pair of slip-on sneakers. You didn’t exactly know what “this” was, a date or a revelation or a sacrifice, so, naturally, you didn’t know what to wear.

Haha.

You hug yourself, your thin white billowy top fluttering lightly in the wind. Your fingers clutch at the flowery-embroidered designs on the sleeves, looking a lot like a pure maiden in distress. (Cos you sure as hell are.) You wore light makeup, and your hair was still a bit damp. The salty air was turning it coarse and wavy–– no complaints about that.

You paired this all with the bravest face you could muster

T, Blurry Boy, Tom Holland Imposter dropped this location with you, and figures that it’s on a secluded section of the beach.

You follow well-trodden paths, softly listening to music as you make your way. One earbud in. You should be thinking about a million things right now, but your mind is totally blank.

No expectations, nothing to go off of. 

As you near your destination, you look out at the water. The ocean is dark and looming; you can hear her soft waves crash over your soft music. The moon casts a silvery glow, and you can’t see colors anymore. Just white, gray, and black. Shining and still. 

It feels calm, like you’re watching a silent movie. Like you’re alone.

Only you’re not.

You see “him.”

A lone shape kicking sand with hands in their pockets. Their hood was up and back facing you. 

Great.

You hang back in the distance, weighing your options. You could still leave–– fear fully settling in after you see an actual person where they said they would be. He seems… harmless enough, like a regular guy and–– ah, fuck.

He turns around.

You see him, seeing you.

He pauses, then leans forward to get a better look.

You freeze too, holding your breath.

There’s nowhere left to duck and hide. It’s just you and some piles of fucking sand.

And him.

Oh, god.

The figure raises their hand, fucking waving. Then they start moving towards you, picking their feet up high to trek over the sand.

Fucking hell, you could turn away now but you don’t. You let out a shrill, grating laugh and square up to meet him halfway.

Their shape isn’t getting any clearer–– especially now that they’re facing away from the moon. His face is shadowed and hard to see, but you get close enough to see him.

I––

“Hey!” he excited calls out, catching the shine of his smile…. And…. you’re speechless.

Jaw to the floor, eyes as wide as dinner plates, speechless.

He keeps talking, smiling with his eyes crinkled as he gets very very close to you. You could smell his musky cologne, mixed with ocean spray, and disbelief. His voice is low and coated with tired happiness,

“Oh my god, I’m so glad you came.”

His voice breaks at the end, broken in more ways that you can understand at this moment. You’re just so confused––??

He can’t stop grinning, eyebrows sloping downward as he lets out an airy sigh of relief. He looks up towards the sky for a moment, moonlight catching on his cheeks and nose. Glimmering.

Wait, wait, wait––

When he comes back, he does another thing you can barely wrap you head around–– he hugs you.

He reaches forward, giving you ample time to turn away (but you don’t), and hugs over your shoulders. You felt a human weight on you, the side of his hoodie smushing against your face. 

And… you slowly hug back around his waist. Your left hand awkwardly pats his back as he mumbles,

“Sorry, this is too much. Sorry, God. Thank you.” 

He doesn’t make any motion of moving away despite his words. You can feel his warmth, and slightly desperation in the embrace; something that feels a lot more intimate than you were prepared for.

“Thank you.”

“It… It’s okay,” you murmur back, doused in shock. And shock is better than terror, right?

You pull away, squinting your eyes and making a face. His hands fall off your shoulders, and quickly shove themselves into his pockets. He gives you a moment. A well needed moment. When you open yourself back up, your brain is able to process a few more things.

He’s standing there in some dark denim jeans, clad in converses, which seems like a horrible decision for the beach, a dark green hoodie pulled up over his head, another horrible decision when you’re meeting someone for the first time on a dark beach, and a denim jacket, enviable. His face is softened and friendly, lips pointed in a gracious smile, while his dark eyes twinkle even in the shade.

He senses your uncertainty as you eyes fan over his face. Your jaw was still hanging open too. He pulls his hood down, ruffling soft brown hair in an inadvertent dramatic reveal. Nice.

He scratches behind his ear, still wearing a gleeful expression,

“So… what do you think?”

What do you think???? What do you think about this situation?? His hair??? The entire man in front of you???

Or the fucking fact that he was who he SAID he was???

I can’t believe this is–– this is––

All manners and social cues and sense exit the building as you stammer brainlessly,

“You’re! You’re–– You’re Tom––”

He nods, confidently, you note. And tilts his head, locks falling over,

“I am.”

“You are.” You breath out, maybe smiling now, you’re not sure. You can’t exactly feel your face anymore. 

Your head tilts in the same direction as his, your hair falling over your collar. His eyes follow those fallen strands, before locking back with yours,

“I’m Tom Holland. ‘I told you so,’ and it’s nice to formally meet you.”

Tom Holland.

The brunette bites his lip before smiling neatly as he gets close to your again. No personal space with this guy. He sticks a hand out for you to shake.

You’re looking from the outside in as you take his hand, bobbing softly. You’re trained on the sight of his thumb holding the side of your hand, rubbing softly.

You find your way back to his face.

Exactly like the movies.

The wind blows and he turns to the side, showing you the sharp cut of his jaw, and his eye-shut-tight expression.

Better, actually.

“H… Hey, Tom. Nice to meet you too,” you finally fumble. You shake your head slightly, trying to regain that calm, collected, confidence you practiced so hard on the way here. You want to say more, but you can’t fathom what would come next, 

“Uhm, sorry, I’m… still processing.”

Tom nods, bobbing his whole body, as he takes a step forward. His smile points devilishly, way too easily. His eyebrows twitch before settling, as he lowers his head, hitting you with some sultry jaw-clenching and puppy dog eyes.

“Take your time.”

You laugh, tonguing your cheek. He does too, and you share a starry stare.

The waves crash in the distance, a white noise you were glad to have. A welcome distraction from your loudly beating heart. Something to close the gap of silence––

Only Tom couldn’t handle the lapse of quiet, after all, he gets paid $$$ by the minute. He starts conversationally, knowing exactly how to stir up your already swirling emotions.

Light, teasing, reeling you in, the brilliant boy flashes you a toothy grin and spares not a single ounce of chill,

“So… am I your type?”

Holy fucking fuck shit god damn.

You just got catfished by Tom Holland.

-

A/N: WELL, reader has been caught in the net. What do you think, is “Tom Holland” /our/ type? Adfasjdl, the whole concept of this is so funny lol. Can u imagine seeing the man you saw movies screens… waiting for you in person??? Unfathomable. Anyway, sorry the past two chapters have just been build up,, there’s gonna be a lot of mushy stuff coming up soon. Thanks for your patience!

It’s really hard to find time to write, but yeah taking smaller chunks like this makes it easier for me. Expect updates every 1-2 weeks, usually around Sat-Mon nights. Thanks so much for keeping up!

And you know what to do, please like and comment and reblog! It keeps me going :)

All my love,

Madmadmilk 🥰

** i do NOT keep up with a taglist. track #one after the one to keep up with the updates, or check out my masterlist! thanks!

#IT'S HEEEEERE! enjoy #thank u for waiting so patiently :) #one after the one #tom holland #tom holland fic #tom holland imagine #tom holland blurb #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland reader #tom holland you #tom holland fluff #tom holland angst #tom holland imagines #tom holland fics #tom holland writing #tom holland story #madmadthirst #madmadmilk #OATO

[clubdolan]

Military Brat -- G.D.

idk it was an idea and i couldn’t think of an ending but i wanted to get it typed up

Grayson stretched his neck out and looked at his alarm clock; 3:23 a.m. 

And no one was sleeping next to him.

“Bub, come on.. back to bed, you’ll wake up if he calls..” He grabbed her hand, trying to pull her from the couch. She sat in her pajamas, his clothes, phone in hand, zoned out at the television in front of her.

“Els, c’mon..” He tugged, forgetting the whole reason he was awake was to go to the bathroom. 

“He said yesterday or today, at his lunch time... which is eleven to one which is two to four in the morning here.” She gripped harder onto her phone, checking the screen for the thousandth time that night. “Thirty minutes.”

Grayson sighed, letting go of her hand, “Give me a minute.”

A few minutes later he was back with a bottle of water and a blanket from his bed. “Come on, lay down.”

“I can’t fall asleep.” Elsa groaned, checking her phone again. He pulled her back to his chest and the blanket over her lap, “Gray, I can’t.”

“I’ll stay awake, I’ll hold your phone, you need to go to sleep.” He pulled her head onto his chest and tried to grab her phone but she wouldn’t budge. He didn’t fight it, he just wrapped his hand around hers and pulled her tighter.

Elsa sat up quick, looking at her phone. “I missed it, I probably--

“It’s been fifteen minutes.” He rubbed her back, “I will wake you up if anything pops up on your phone, I promise.”

She leaned forward, her face in her hands, “He’s not gunna call.”

“He’s going to call, he still has ten or fifteen minutes.” 

Elsa held in her sobs, trying to hide her tears from him but he already knew she was crying. Her dad was an Army Major stationed in Germany and she hadn’t spoke to him in two months and hadn’t seen him for almost a year. Her mother had passed away from cancer two years ago and she followed her dreams and moved to LA to continue dancing, which led her to him.

She was a back-up dancer in music videos, at concerts, awards shows and more. Her Instagram had gained a following which led to modeling and sponsorships and now she was considered an ‘influencer’.

She kept her family life off of the internet. All that anyone knew was that her mom had passed from cancer. Of course Grayson knew every detail, every story she told him good or bad, every memory she could remember with her dad and mom in Germany when she was younger, at their first US house in Virginia, their second US house in Texas. He felt like he knew her whole family but in reality, he had never met them.

He continued rubbing her back until she turned around and dug her face into the blanket in his lap, crying harder. “Els, c’mon bub.” He pushed her hair from her face, “I know this has been planned for weeks, he hasn’t forgot. Maybe a meeting has gone too long and he’s taking a late lunch?”

“I don’t know.. I just wish I could text him.. or email him. Or he would let me know somehow.. I just wait and wait--

She went silent as her phone vibrated, a little tune playing from it, DAD going across the screen.

“Oh my god, hi dad.” She cried out, now tears of happiness were flowing. 

“Hi Elsie-bug, sorry it’s so late, a meeting went a little long...” Grayson heard a muffled voice and left her on the couch, pushing the blanket around her shoulders. “Fill me in on everything, I’ve got a while.”

Grayson fell back asleep, hearing her little laugh every now and then & as he woke back up at six, he was still alone in bed. 

Elsa sat on the couch, sun peeking through the windows, smiling down at her phone as she typed away. “Morning, Gray!” She spoke up, giving him a smile. “My dad has an email I can send things to right now, so I’m pretty much blowing up his inbox while he’s working, I don’t know when it’ll be shut down.”

“Breakfast?”

“Please.” She groaned, thinking of how empty her stomach was. With her head still down she followed Grayson into the kitchen, “Remember when we went to Universal and got stuck on The Mummy ride?” She laughed, attaching the picture to an email and typing a caption. “I just want to send him my whole camera roll.”

“Please don’t send him your whole camera roll or he will not let you date me.”

“He probably wouldn’t even let me have a phone.” They both laughed, “He doesn’t know if he will be able to come home in the next two months. It could be six months before he’s back.”

“That sucks, but at least you can email him now, keep in contact more often. Tell him how great I am before I eventually meet him someday.” He sat a bowl of oatmeal in front of her, “I will eventually meet him, right?”

“Of course.” She finally put her phone down and sat on the counter to eat breakfast. Grayson walked back and forth making a protein shake for him and a smoothie for her; both chocolate peanut butter.

“I’m going to go workout--

“I’m going to sleep.”

“You’re making me work out alone?” He groaned, “But.. fine.”

“Bring your sweaty, little body back to bed when you’re done.”

“I can’t believe you just called me little.” He walked towards her, standing between her legs. “My sweaty, little body.”

“Sweaty... little... body...” She poked at his chest, “The smallest I’ve ever seen. You say you drink protein? Do you even have leg day?” Grayson laughed as she pulled his shirt off of him, “You call that a six-pack?”

“It’s practically an eight pack” he leaned forward, pinning her between the coffee machine and himself. 

Elsa grabbed his arms, her nails scraping along the back, “Your arms are so small, do you work out or just sit on the floor in there? These are pitiful. I ca--”

“You can talk shit about my arms all you want but I know you can get off by just thinking about them, so I’d shut up if I were you.” He mumbled against her mouth, leaving a quick kiss before going to their gym.

Elsa kicked off her shorts and shirt, putting on the shirt she had just taken off Grayson as she buried herself in the sheets exactly where he had laid the night before.

@ElsaOwens: 6:45am = Perfect bed time.

---reply: No I wasn’t partying, I didn’t just get home, I finally got to talk to my dad after two months of waiting. #armybratproblems 

She didn’t even remember putting her phone down before she was woken up by a weight dropping down on her whole body. Without thinking she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed the side of his head, “I’m still sleeping.”

“Do you want me to order you lunch with mine? Sushi.”

“My usual please.” She kissed the side of his head again before unwrapping her arms, expecting him to get up. 

“I’m tired.”

“Take a nap.” She tapped the top of his head, beginning to play with his hair.

“I want under the blanket.” He whined, standing up on his knees to push the whole blanket back before he dove back on top of her, shoving his head into her chest.

“You’re ... damp.”

“It’s my sweaty, little body.” He mimicked her, “Cardio and upper-body today.”

“Fuck-yeah upper body.” She rubbed her hands around on his stomach. 

“Ohh, fuck yeah upper body.” He made fun of her, pushing his shirt up her body, “Your naked.”

“I’m naked.” She giggled, watching him lay his head back down on her chest.

“I’m happy you got to talk to your dad today.” It was a cute moment, really it was. Elsa watched his eye lashes flutter close and she knew he really meant it. Her whole attitude had done a flip in the best way possible.

“You can’t get all touchy with me and then mention my dad.” Her finger trailed up and down his arm, leaving goosebumps along the way. “That’s like me teasing you and then mentioning Eth--

“Don’t fucking say his name.”

“---than.” She finished, pausing her finger. “Ruins it, doesn’t it?”

“I’ll still fuck the living day lights out of you. I don’t give a shit about my brother.” He mumbled into collar bone, “I hope he hears every second of it.”

“He left before you woke up. Surfing with Kyle or something?” She flinched as Gray bit into her skin, “Ugh, fuck, Gray.”

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Grayson’s voice felt shaky and he wasn’t even talking. His phone screen was dark and he waited impatiently for it to light up, he didn’t have much time, Elsa would be home in almost an hour.

A foreign number popped up and with a shaky hand he slid the bar over and answered it, “Hello?”

“So you’re Grayson? The one my daughter won’t shut up about?” A man laughed on the other line, “It’s nice to... somewhat, meet you.”

“You too, sir.” Grayson had tried to prepare but he didn’t want Elsa to know her dad was calling him. He had snuck her phone, copied the address and sent a short email to him. Days later he was on the phone, soon talking to her dad like they were old friends.

“I’m exhausted.”

“You’ve been on the phone for thirty minutes, what’s that exhausting?” Ethan asked from the other couch, pulling his ear buds out.

“It was Elsa’s dad and I’m trying to plan a surprise for her to see him.” He sighed, “Well I think I just did plan a surprise for her to see him......” 

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 

They came up with a fake video idea so them filming with Kyle didn’t seem suspicious. Elsa tagged along as they ran a few places just wasting time until her dad had landed.

“Els.”

“I’m not in this video, I’m not doing it...... what?” She asked, holding her own Target bag in hand walking to Ethan’s Jeep.

Grayson took the bag from her and put it in the car, “We just have to run and get Ricky at the airport, Kyle forget he said he’d pick him up.”

“Okay?” She looked at him funny, as if they needed her permission to go somewhere. “I’m literally just here to be here. I have no plans.”

Over an hour later they pulled into the airport parking lot and got out of the car, “Can’t he just walk--

“No we’re going in to get him, it’s a foreign flight and he’s got like three bags and we want to embarrass him with a sign.” He held his hand out and she grabbed onto it, pushing her sunglasses back to hold her messy ponytail in place. 

It took everything in him not to shake as they walked towards the airport. He knew Ethan and Kyle were behind them, filming, knowing exactly what was going on.

They all stood at the foreign arrivals gate, Ethan handed a rolled up poster to Elsa and had her hold it up to ‘see if it would fit in frame’. With a lousy smirk she held it up, watching him and Grayson keep backing up until it was all in frame. 

“Perfect! Now read the sign!” Grayson yelled, pointing down. 

Elsa was ready to read something dumb about Ricky, see an edited photo of him or some practical joke pulled on her but her eyes teared up as she read out loud, “I’ve waited a year to see my dad and I have no idea he’s right behind me.”

Her body froze and she dropped the sign and turned around. Her dad stood before her, Army fatigues and a bouquet of flowers.

The next few minutes was a whirl-wind. She hugged her dad for as long as possible, she cried the most she had in months, she didn’t even remember they were in airport or in public or that she was being filmed until her dad sat her down and said they could probably, “get going now.”

As she wiped her face off she saw Grayson standing next to her dad’s bags, holding her purse she had dropped on the floor with a little smirk on his face. “No way... no... you didn’t...”

“Nice to finally meet you, Grayson. In person.” Her dad stuck his hand out and Grayson shook it.

“In person.. so... wait, what?”

“I’ve talked to him a few times.. on the phone..” He acted cocky for keeping the secret. “Ethan and Kyle went to get the Jeep and your car is almost here. You’ve got dinner reservations with your dad.”

Elsa turned to look at her dad, back to Grayson then back to her dad, “All his idea.” Her dad said, looking at Grayson. 

“I can’t believe you.” She hugged him, starting to cry again. “I wanna be mad at you for not telling me but I can’t.”

He squeezed her tight, he felt her cry again, he felt her heart beating fast and could tell it meant everything to her. “He had a week off so we figured something out, you’ve got things all week to do with him.”

“With us, you’re coming with us, right Grayson?” Her dad spoke up.

Elsa nodded her head quickly, “Yes, he is. If he can. Can you?”

“I have a meeting one day but I can probably work the others out.” Elsa squeezed his arm and dug her head into his shoulder, “But dinner tonight is just you two. It’s already paid for. It’s your favorite place.”

They walked to the black SUV waiting outside and talked about the upcoming week, “It’s like two worlds colliding..” Elsa explained, “A good colliding.”

She kept her goodbye with Grayson short and sweet, her dad had never seen her with a boyfriend, let alone one she had been with for a while or one that went to this amount of planning to surprise her.

Grayson went to shake his hand but her dad hugged him, “Thank you, Grayson. For taking care of her.”

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

At midnight Elsa came running into Ethan and Grayson’s house as if someone was chasing her. “Where’s--

“He’s working out.” Ethan mumbled through a bite of food. 

She dropped her bag, shoes and whatever she could before rounding the corner and bursting into their workout room. Music was blaring and Grayson was laying on the ground, eyes squinted close as she silently counted sit-ups.

He almost started throwing punches when a body was on top of him, grabbing his face and straddling his chest. “I can’t fucking believe you.”

“Holy shit, bub. I almost hit you.” He sighed in relief, relaxing his muscles as they fell to the floor. “I’m glad you were surprised, I thought you would have figured it out by now.”

“I had zero idea.”

“Good.” He laughed, “Why are you here so late? You have to be up early tomorrow to get--

“I couldn’t sleep.” 

“I didn’t want to sleep.”

“I just.”

“I wanted to come say thank you.” Her thumb brushed along his stubbly chin, “So, thank you.”

Grayson’s hands slid up her back and he pulled her down to meet him better, “You’re so very welcome.” 

Their lips pulled apart and she couldn’t stop looking at him. The love of her life, had taken his own time, his own money, to give her the best gift of all time. “I still can’t believe--

“Believe it.” He laughed, “None of this is fake.” 

Grayson groaned into her mouth as she kissed him again, sliding her body down his. “I know Ethan’s coming in here to run so please let’s go to my room or literally anywhere else but here.” He quickly said, sitting up with her on his lap. 

She didn’t answer, she kept kissing him and he kept kissing back. “You’re going to be mad....” He tried to talk, “If Ethan walks in here.”

“I don’t even care if my dad asks why I arrive to breakfast with you tomorrow or if I’m wearing your shirt as a dress, I’m staying here tonight.”

idk how to end this bye

#me #mine #grayson dolan #grayson #dolan #dolan twins #surprise #military #fanfic #imagine #edit #dt #dating grayson #writing #write

[sparrellow]

oops

Rin realised with absolute terror, that by some cursed oddity, the quite-revealing, most definitely embarrassing selfie she had just taken had been sent to Len.

rating: T genre: humour, romance pairing: rinlen words:  2,477

It was a balmy Tuesday afternoon, and Rin was bored, so she went window shopping.

Her favourite thing to do was try on cute outfits, take selfies in them, and then not buy anything at all. It wasn’t like she could afford to buy any of the things she tried, anyway—she was a broke university student, barely scraping by weekly on nutritious meals of cup ramen. 

This day, she felt particularly ambitious. A little sexy, even. So she went to her favourite lingerie store and tried on a bunch of cute, expensive underwear.

Alas, it did not go exactly as planned.

When she unlocked her phone to take a selfie, it did some weird glitch thing, but she simply shrugged it off and went to snap a photo of herself in the pastel, frilly, mermaid-themed underwear she’d picked out. Hmm. Cute. She clicked the confirm button, and went to take another picture, except— 

Except the screen didn’t return to the camera option.

Oh, no.

It didn’t.

It had, in fact, opened up her message with Len. Her uni friend. The cute guy from her Psychology class.

But that wasn’t it.

Because, Rin realised with absolute terror, that by some cursed oddity, the quite-revealing , most definitely embarrassing selfie she had just taken had been sent to him.

The final hit was the little: Read at 2:36 .

“Fuck!”

.

It was a balmy Tuesday afternoon, and Len was struggling to stay awake during his Introduction to Molecular Chemistry lecture. He kept nodding off every few minutes, the lecturer’s voice oddly soothing—both a blessing and a curse in his case.

But then his phone buzzed, and his eyes popped open to read the notification.

(1) Message from Rin Kagamine.

Huh. Wonder why Rin was texting him. They didn’t really talk much outside of their class together, but she was pretty cool. Pretty and cool, that was. He didn’t really think they were on that level for casual conversations yet, so perhaps it was uni-related, or something.

He reached over to unlock his phone to read the message. 

And promptly turned off his screen again.

What… what was that .

His eyes had almost fallen out of his sockets. Had he just seen correctly? Or was his mind playing tricks on him? He wasn’t even entirely sure.

Reluctantly, he opened the message back up.

And confirmed, it was, indeed, not a mistake of his eyes. 

She had, in fact, just sent him a picture of her in underwear. (Very nice underwear, might he add! But also, what the fuck was going on here .)

Before he could even form some degree of coherent message in response to the picture, Rin had begun spamming him in a flurry of panic.

FUCK

I’M SO SORRY

I

I’M SO FUCKING EMBARRASSED OH MY FUCKING GOD

FUCK!!!!

I SWEAR THIS WAS AN ACCIDENT I

I DON’T KNOW WHAT HAPPENED MY PHONE GLITCHED I’M SO SORRY LEN FUCK

He raised an eyebrow at the messages, amused. So it was… an accident? How does one send a sexy selfie as an accident? How does one’s phone glitch to the degree of accidentally sending someone a sexy selfie? Had she been meaning to send it to someone else?

There were so many questions. 

Well, the good thing was that Len was definitely awake now.

.

Rin was crouching on the floor of the dressing room, half-naked and freaking out because he still hadn’t replied. But he had read all the messages. Oh god. What happens if he, like, posted the picture to some Facebook group to shame her? What if he used it for blackmail?

Was Len that sort of person? Did he like blackmail?

But before she could jump to any more conclusions, he’d responded with:

Thanks. I needed something to make this lecture a little bit more bearable.

He was at school? Had he opened the message in front of everyone? Had everyone else seen her in the cute little frilly mermaid underwear with her unshaven legs and pot-belly from eating two servings of instant yakisoba for lunch????

Rin sunk further down onto the ground, clutching her head, texting back rapid-fire. 

I swear it was an accident I don’t know why it was sent to you I was literally just taking pics of myself and AHHHHH

Did she really just admit that she had been taking photos of herself, half-naked, in the dressing room of an expensive lingerie store?

Yes. Yes she did.

And Len had the audacity to send back a crying-laughing face.

Well idk if you wanted an opinion, but it looks cute. You should buy it.

Rin buried her face into her knees, utterly humiliated . This wasn’t what she was expecting her boring Tuesday afternoon to be like. Maybe she should’ve just stayed home and studied like a good student.

Well. It was too late to go back now.

I wish I could but it’s way out of my price range

Thanks, tho

She closed her phone and stood up, taking a breath to calm herself. At that moment, the dressing room assistant knocked on her door and asked, “Do you need any help?”

“I’m fine!” she croaked, scrambling to change into her next outfit. God forbid she let anyone else look at her body today.

.

Len couldn’t help but be a little disappointed at the fact that she’d stop replying after that last message.

Of course, it was normal , given that this was all apparently an accident , but he was hoping she’d send another picture or two.

You know.

That sounded dirty of him. But she was cute. And that first picture was—although very much a surprise—somewhat eye candy for him. Plus he was super bored. He still had another hour left of his lecture and his soul was slowly being leached from his body.

So, like the little disgusting man he was, he sent another message.

Is that all?

About a minute passed, before Rin responded with, What?

He internally winced. Was he really going to make himself sound like a major creep?

Yes. Yes he was.

(This was going to make his Psychology class super awkward and he knew it.)

You’re not trying any others on?

Rin’s reply came almost immediately after that. Of COURSE I’m trying others on

What, do you want more pictures of an underdeveloped adult woman with hairy legs and a bloated stomach in your phone?

Len snorted. The picture she’d sent was fine. It was a body. A very nice body he liked to look at.

So he said, I can give you a second opinion?

It was radio static silent from Rin. She’d read his message, but no answer. He waited about five minutes, before he put down his phone with a sigh and tried to tune into his class.

She’d probably blocked his number. With good reason.

God. How was he going to meet her eyes in Psychology class on Thursday?

Providing she didn’t like, sock him in the jaw for being a pervert.

But he couldn’t help it! He needed the thrill! The entertainment! Also the pictures of a cute girl in cute underwear on his phone!

Len was going to hell but he didn’t even care.

.

Rin had stared at her phone for an incredibly long time, not sure how to respond to her classmate.

Look, she got it. It was her fault for being a dumbass and not checking before taking the picture. She technically asked for this roundabout method of torture. 

And yet. He had the audacity to ask for more.

She didn’t know whether to be mad or impressed. Madpressed, maybe.

So she left it to stew on, finished taking selfies of all the cute underwear in her naked glory, and went home very pensive. She thought very hard about it all on the bus, and glared hard at his little, stupid face in his icon on the message app.

Len was a good-looking guy. And , from the few conversations they had in class, he had a good sense of humour. And judging by his messages, he was also a cheeky asshole.

But she could’ve done worse. A whole lot worse. She could’ve sent that picture to her grandfather, or better yet, one of her creepy great uncles. Perhaps it was a good thing she’d sent it to some random (hot) guy from university.

Yeah.

So Rin decided to send the rest of her photos to him, and die gracefully in a puddle of shame. 

He’d already seen one, so he might as well see them all.

.

Len almost tripped and fell flat on his face when Rin suddenly bulk-sent five more pictures of her in various, adorable lingerie.

He wasn’t even in his lecture anymore. He was walking home, feeling sorry for his little perverted self, and the fact that he accidentally slept through the remainder of his class. How on earth was he even going to pass that class.

The blood rushing to his head (and to the south pole), he managed to type out a response that read a lot more underwhelmingly compared to what was really going on in his mind.

Very nice.

Was it something a girl wanted to read after sending multiple pictures of herself in a vulnerable state? No, probably not. But his brain had turned to mush and was starting to seep out of his ears. 

Rin wasn’t impressed.

You could’ve at least said thank you

Len fumbled for his dorm key, hands sweaty. Look, he was inexperienced. No one had ever sent him sexy pictures—or the equivalent of them, at least, whatever these were. He didn’t know how to handle it! Besides, she wasn’t even, like, a girl he was dating. He couldn’t just go full-mcCreep and tell her that he had a boner.

Could he?

No. He couldn’t.

Thank you , he responded, upon letting himself into his dorm room. I like the lavender one btw. It goes well with your hair colour

Was that too… much? He didn’t know if what he was doing was right. What did she expect him to say? He had no idea what on earth this entire situation was meant to be.

Oh really? That was my favourite

Cost like half a kidney tho

Len sank down onto his bed, relieved at her response. Okay. Okay. He was doing better. But now … he had a very important question he wanted to ask.

What’s the name of the store?

.

Rin blinked at his message, wondering why he was asking.

But she decided it was better not to ask. Maybe he had a girlfriend, or something. (Which, if he did, she would be incredibly pissed, because wouldn’t this classify as cheating? If he did, she was going to make sure he couldn’t walk straight ever again.)

She sent him back the store name. And left it there.

Thanks!

I’ll see you on Thursday ;)

Rin stared at his messages. Why did he send that winky face. What did it mean. What did it mean.

She didn’t respond, just tossed her phone aside and flopped back against her couch. She’d find out soon enough if she’d regret her actions.

.

Come Thursday, Rin had all but mentally prepared for her encounter with Len.

He pulled out the chair beside her in their lecture hall, and she stiffened, reluctantly dragging her eyes up to meet his gaze.

“Morning,” he said, acting way too casual given the circumstances. He plopped a familiar bag down on the desk in front of her and winked. Winked.

She felt her breakfast come up a little as it dawned on her, with absolute horror, that the bag donned the logo of the exact same store she’d been trying on underwear in the other day.

“What… is this,” she asked, gesturing at the bag like it was a severed toe.

Len looked smug, resting his chin on his hand. “I don’t know. Take a peek.”

“You don’t know,” Rin muttered to herself, unconvinced. She leaned forward, peering into the bag, catching a glimpse of something the shade of lavender. Uhhhh. She’d seen that shade of lavender somewhere. On her body. In the dressing room.

Hm.

“I know what you’re thinking,” Len said, shifting his gaze away so that he was facing forward. “No, I don’t know your size. I guessed.”

She wanted to send her face forward into the surface of the desk. 

“But if it doesn’t fit,” he added, lips turning up into a smirk, “you can always take it in to swap it for your size. The receipt is in the bag.”

God. What on earth. What the even. What?

“Is this… are you going to like… blackmail me or something, or,” Rin spluttered, eyeing him with suspicion. “What are you going to have me do in return for… this? This brand isn’t… cheap.”

Len glanced back at her, shrugged his shoulders. “Well, you technically don’t have to do anything , but…” He licked his lips. What the fuck? Ew. Gross. “I wouldn’t mind some more pictures.”

She gawked at him, heat rushing to her cheeks. “ Re ally?” She didn’t trust him. She didn’t trust this pretty-faced man-boy at all. “So, you want to be my sugar daddy?”

He choked. After recovering from his coughing fit, he sat up straight, made direct eye-contact and said smoothly, “Yeah, if that’s how you want to see it.”

So, he gave her expensive lingerie. In exchange for. Pictures of her. In said lingerie.

Wow.

Rin wasn’t sure whether she was awake anymore, or just dreaming. Maybe she had passed out or something, and was having a fever dream. This was just too weird to even be real. She pinched her thigh under the desk, but nothing happened (alas).

“I mean, you could just go on a date with me instead, and maybe you’ll get to see the real thing,” her mouth said, without any mental input. It just came out. 

It was real clown hours in this Psychology lecture, huh.

Len’s mouth popped open. Then closed. Then opened again. “That could work, too.”

It was silent. No one knew how to handle this situation, apparently. They were both staring awkwardly at the bag of lingerie on the desk between them, like it might eat them at any moment.

Eventually, Rin’s hand reached out and snatched it off the desk, stuffing it down into her shoulder bag on the ground. She cleared her throat, tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Well, I’ll try it on tonight and see how it fits.”

Len tried not to look too pleased. And failed. “Cool.” He hesitated, side-glancing her. “If it does… ”

“I’ll meet you at Crypton's at seven.”

He blinked, surprised, before leaning back in his seat and grinning with satisfaction. “Sounds good.”

(Spoiler alert: Rin’s underwear didn’t fit, but they still went on the date anyway.)

#fanfiction #vocaloid #vocaloid fanfiction #rin kagamine #kagamine rin #len kagamine #kagamine len #rinlen #lenrin #rinxlen #lenxrin #uh... yeah

[pandemicthestory]

1: introduced

The love story of a teenage girl trapped inside during the end of the world. Daily chapters during the coronavirus pandemic. 

Neon orange nails tap at a laptop, chatting with someone across the internet. This manicure is fresh, except no one has left their house in weeks, so we know she did it herself. 

ADMIN_E: just sent your essay back. Gonna be 300 bc of the works cited 

GUEST48: oh come on 

ADMIN_E: i need the money, and you have more money than you need

GUEST48: ugh pls just tell me this is gonna get me an A in AP US history, i need this grade to get into duke 

ADMIN_E: lol, you’re actually worried about getting into college?

GUEST48: uh yeah, aren’t u?

ADMIN_E: Sweetie the world is ending. Who the fuck cares

*buzz* 

She looks away from the computer and down at her cracked iPhone 7. Another thing she’d like the cash to upgrade. The bigger issue: it’s basically impossible to scam in peace with her group chat constantly blowing up. But what are your best friends for, if not to provide human contact during an infinite quarantine? 

Madison is a self-proclaimed burnout, who used to be the carefree athletic type until a soccer injury sent her spiraling into an emo-grunge moment. Zoe is probably going to run for president and also be a doctor at the same time, unless her weird senior boyfriend convinces her to leave on a weed farm (which he would totally do, wow Gabriel sucks). And Olivia is sort of the one who keeps everyone together, obsessed with being a friend. She’s the one who religiously decorates your locker on your birthday even if you insist that it’s not necessary and that actually you’d prefer if she didn’t because it’s embarrassing. That’s Olivia.

MADISON: holy shit did u hear 

OLIVIA: I was just about to text you guys. My mom just told me. R u ok?? 

ZOE: wait what’s going on?? wtf tell me rn !! 

*knock knock*

The bedroom door opens without waiting for an answer.

“Emma?”

Emma Bradford, a skinny 16-year-old wearing an oversized hoodie and boxers, slams her laptop shut with way too much force. Hopefully it isn’t broken, she’d have to find a different way to cheat the school system for money. 

“Mom, what happened to our deal? If we’re going to be stuck at home together, you have to pretend I’m AT school. As in don’t speak to me before 3:25 PM.”

“You can’t say I didn’t knock. I knocked.” 

“It’s not about knocking, it’s about--wait why are we even having a conversation? See you at dinner. Or not. Just go please.” 

Emma jams in her air pods and pulls up her hoodie over her head so you can’t see the top of her face. She’s used to hiding her identity, and even in quarantine, old habits die hard or whatever.

Mom sighs, she doesn’t want to be here either. Out of all her kids, Emma is the truly difficult one. The smart one who uses her brain for all the wrong reasons. And wow those nails are intense. Traffic cones. Kids these days. 

“I just came to tell you that...well we just got a phone call from the school district. It looks like classes are going to be canceled for the rest of the year. Zoom classes too. Everything. I’m sorry.”

Emma’s stomach drops. Canceled? Like, wait, canceled? Canceled. But...how will she earn hundreds of dollars doing writing assignments for her fellow dumbasses?

“Seriously? How is that possible?! Don’t I need like, an education and shit?”

“Government spending is affecting everyone in strange ways right now. And wait a second, I thought you’d be happy. You always tell me how much you hate high school.”

Mom raises an eyebrow. Emma hates that. If her mom starts digging around in her personal life again, she’s going to find some weird shit. Not just forged essays, but, well, let’s just leave that all buried for now. 

“I do hate school. And I don’t care if I never go back. But I do need some boundaries, so please get out.”

Her Mom closes the door. We can’t see, but that eyebrow is definitely still raised. Something’s up with Emma. Her mom just has no idea of what it is, or how big it’s about to get.

Emma examines the group chat, having missed over 80 texts since she last checked it five minutes ago. 

EMMA: i don’t have time to read all that but, school, right?

ZOE: How can this happen? I already have a prom dress and it was final sale!!

MADISON: u don’t HAVE to go to prom this year zo- when gabriel goes to school next year u guys will prob break up anyway and then you’ll be free to go to like 10 more proms w guys who haven’t been arrested

ZOE: He was not actually arrested and we are doing long distance we already discussed it! 

MADISON: you don’t think they’ll cancel prom do you? if i have to do prom over zoom i’m legit done 

EMMA: So, prom is what you’re all worried about?

A brief pause. 

OLIVIA: Well what are you worried about Em? Or aren’t you

EMMA: Oh well idk. I mean i’m not that worried

EMMA: I just mean like it could be worse

As soon as Emma sends this, she doesn’t know if she actually believes it. She doesn’t know what’s coming. 

ZOE: Sure, I guess...

MADISON: UR BEING RLY WEIRD EM 

EMMA: Ah you’re right sorry, it’s just a weird time. I love u guys btw 

Everyone sends their signature heart emoji. Zoe: pink with sparkles. Olivia: yellow. Madison: small red with red dot underneath. And Emma sends the black heart, because she really needs to start acting like her normal self as people are getting suspicious. Her best friends know almost everything about her. Almost. They don’t know about what she’s doing on the side, or what she plans to do with the money. 

Emma takes a deep breath and reopens the laptop. No school is going to be a problem. No school, no assignments, no college applications, which means: no income. And no income means no leaving...no running off with...him. 

Him, the eternal problem. Him who won’t get out of her head no matter how much she curses the day he was born. Him from that other school that’s annoyingly far yet still too close for her own good. Him who knows her favorite candle scent. Him who rests his hand in the space between her hip bone and her belly button. Him who lied. Him who was forgiven. 

Him. 

She stares at the interface of her ghostwriter page on the screen. This was good while it lasted. She’ll just need a new plan to get to Him. 

Emma is about to shut the computer when: 

*Ping* 

New Assignment.

What? Every student at Harrison Ford High School got the same announcement today that she did. School’s canceled. No more class, no more losing sleep over getting into Duke. What a random life goal. 

Seriously, what the hell could this be?

Emma clicks the link to open the new assignment, to learn that it isn’t a new assignment at all. It’s a drawing?  

Circular lines, deflated shapes encircling each other. Like oil in water. The picture could almost be, well it looks somewhat like...a map. Holy shit, this is a map.

The lines of the map are messy and hand drawn. As if someone made this in a rush. Or maybe they were confused about where the path leads. But underneath the twists and turns, there’s a note: 

before you run away, come find me

#writers #writer #writers on tumblr #my writing #short fiction #story #pandemic #coronavirus

[brokendave]

the stars, the moon, and the constellations - c.b

A/N: ok i’m actually proud of this one? so pls be nice but also constructive cristism is always appreciated. i tried to play around with the tenses and i’m pretty sure i like effed it up but thats ok. 

Summary: idk i guess pre-relationship fluff? kinda 

Word Count: 1.8k

Her fingertips were sweating, hovering over the keyboard of her phone debating what words would be the best ones to write down and hit send with. His words seemed like utter gibberish to the untrained eye but she was not untrained. She was well versed in the language of drunk Colby.

When her phone went off at 3 am, she knew it was because he was out of beer at some lame house party in downtown L.A. Maybe at one of his friends houses who invented more people that his house would allow so she pictured Colby sitting on the couch, squished up between Sam and maybe Corey or maybe Jake with dried beer on his pants and an empty cup in one hand, her name on his phone in the other.

Maybe the ‘friend’ hadn’t supplied enough or maybe it was BYOB and Colby had let too many people mooch off of him like usual so now he was out for himself earlier than he wanted.

He wasn’t texting her for her to bring him more and he wasn’t texting her to complain. Instead, as his mind cleared up from the lack of alcohol clouding it, he texted her to tell her how pretty he was picturing her to look tucked under her comforter and nightstand lamp illuminating her face.

She liked drunk Colby and more importantly, the drunk texts that Colby would send to her. She thought too long and too hard about her responses, trying to get the best one out of him and she didn’t have to worry about feeling embarrassed about it the next morning because there was a 50/50 shot that he wouldn’t remember it anyway.

Sometimes he’d tell her that he missed her and wished that she was there, which she knew wasn’t true but she let it be for a few moments, anyway. If she was there, she’d be stuffed in a corner somewhere with beads of sweat wetting her baby hairs that framed her face. Her eyes scanning the room for a mingling Colby, dancing from one person to another, wanting to see and talk to everyone.

Sometimes he would tell her that he wanted to come over when he left, crash on her side of the bed because it was furthest from the window and he didn’t want to be woken up but he wanted to be woken up to her.

Sometimes he would even tell her that he was in love with her but that wasn’t him that was the Captian.

Sometimes when it was really late at night and the entire world was sleeping except for the two of you and he let you sleep in his bed, put the fan in exactly the right way and let the music hum softly in the background, you’d believe him.

She asked him if he had a ride home and he said he rode his bike and she laughed to herself and he told her that maybe he’d call her and put her on speaker as he rode the three blocks to his apartment but she said no.

“Just text me in the morning,” she said.

And he said, “okay.”

“Drink lots of water and take an Advil,” she said.

And he said, “okay.”

Her fingers weren’t sweating anymore and she locked her phone and went to bed because the faster she went to sleep, the faster he would be sober and she secretly hoped that he would invite her over to take care of him in the morning.

She woke up to a photo of a glass of water and Advil with a winky face attached to it and she sends a smiley face back.

He says: what r u doin later

She says: nothin

He says: come over ?

And she does. She puts her hair in sweet curls that frame her face and brings out the best of her well-worn highlights and she puts pink eyeshadow on her eyes and she makes her lashes look longer and she wears a dress, one that goes down just above her knees. She likes to look sweet and innocent for him. He likes that she looks sweet and innocent. Like maybe he could make her bad.

He meets her outside his complex, telling her to get into his old Toyota Corolla that was barely surviving on its last leg but he loved that car so she loved it too and she sits in the front seat, listening to his music as they drive.

“Where are we going?” She asks, watching the trees flash by her and noticing how quickly the sun was going down now and how the sky that was blue when she arrived was now a shade of orange and it was turning deeper and deeper into a red.

“You’ll see,” he says, a sneaky grin on his face. He holds her hand in between their seats and rubs the back of her hand with his thumb, sometimes tapping it against her to the beat of the music. The sky was black by the time they got there.

In true Colby nature, it was an abandoned building with trespassing signs posted on the metal wire fencing that surrounded the building but it was a small building and he promises that it’s never patrolled.

The metal scrapes against the cement as he pushes open the gate and ladies first, he gestures her inside. He’s quick at closing the gate and he puts his hand on her lower back and whispers in her ear. “I wanna take you to the roof.”

“The roof looks like it’s going to cave in,” she comments.

“I promise you, it won’t.” She lets him take her to the roof. He guides her through the worn-down building with all its windows boarded up and decorated with people’s art. It was beautiful art, really. She was in awe of it.

He told her to watch her step as she passes through broken glass and garbage that was left over by the artists. How can someone make something so beautiful but leave the Earth looking so gross?

“You’ll have to climb up there. Think you can?” Colby asks her, pointing upward to the roof entrance.

She nods. “Don’t look up my dress,” she warns as she grabs the wooden post that she uses to lift herself up and she scales the wall carefully until she can reach the hole to the roof and she knows that as she pulls herself onto the roof, that he was looking up her dress.

She waits for him and looks up at the stars, the moon, and the many constellations that looked down on her and she wondered if they knew how she felt in that moment: terrified that the roof was going to fall under her dirty white sneakers and happy that she was with Colby and all the butterflies that swarmed inside of her stomach when he looked at her. She wondered if they felt her heart pounding when he grabbed her hand and walked her to the part of the roof that was slanted just a little bit.

He sits first and then pulls her down next to him so close that their knees are touching and the point of contact is on fire. He leaves little burns wherever he touches her and she traces them at night when she misses him.

He’s like fire: passionate and bright and if you’re not careful, he’ll swallow you whole and she’s like air: curious and intelligent but not smart enough to tread lightly around the big, encompassing flame that was him.

As they talk, she doesn’t ask him what are we or call him her boyfriend or insinuate anything of the sort. Instead, she grabs his hand and places it in her lap, his palm facing upward like she’s going to do a palm reading and it says that he loves her. She draws a heart with her index finger in his open palm and then pauses and then draws a question marks and waits for his answer.

The tip of her finger is resting in his palm and it’s sweating, just like it was last night as she pondered over the right words to say and this time, she’s saying no words at all but it means the most. He feels it, her heart and her question mark but he’s looking at her and she’s looking at his hand as if she was willing the answer out of it. He loves me. He loves me. He loves me.

He closes his hand in a tight fist with her question inside of it and she looks at him. His eyes are big and blue and deep, like the ocean. They’re drowning out the fire and she breathes a sigh of relief.

They’re looking at each other. His fire and her air mixing and creating air so hot that could fill a balloon and take them so far in the sky that everything below them becomes so small and minute and nothing else exists except for them and the many constellations. They’ll be so close to them that they have to feel her heart beating, right? Maybe his answer is written in them.

They’re too far to touch but he’s not so she reaches out a hand and touches his cheek just barely with her fingertips and there’s that burn so hot she can barely stand it and he does that same but the heat is broken up by the metal of his rings and maybe the answer is written in the stars but they’re also written in between the cracks of his chapped lips as they pressed against yours.

They’re saying I love you and I want you and I need you all at the same time and when his tongue slips into your mouth, it’s saying love me, want me, and need me.

And she does. She loves him and wants him and needs him so she tries as hard as she can to tell him as she bites his lower lips playfully and the small laugh that escapes his mouth says: good.

She thinks: the stars have to know. They have to be able to feel this love that radiating off of my skin. It has to be loud enough for the whole world to hear, right?

She feels it, the love, in her bones and in her veins that are pumping all the blood and love right into her heart and making it swell. When he pulls away from her, both their lips are swollen and pink and he looks at her like he loves her.

He takes her hand and puts it on his lap, her palm facing up like he’s going to do a palm reading and it says she loves him. He draws a heart with his index finger in her open palm and then pauses and then draws a yes.

#colby brock #colby brock imagine #colby brock fan fiction

[quantumarvel]

@oh-snap-bucky and I like to scream fic concepts at each other a lot. I, somehow, convinced her to let me share them with yall. Here’s a recent one. 

It all started with this post (please read the tags)

Courtney: can we talk about this cause wow 

Sam: you thought up an entire fic 

Sam: we stan 

Sam: sitting under a tree and rEADING 

Courtney: Sammy help me out here cause I may just roll with this

Courtney: how do they meet? 

Sam: Park? Library? Cafe?

Courtney: library 

Courtney: he looks vaguely homeless and he’s BRILLIANT and studying something to do with poetry 

Sam: English major? I think yes 

Courtney: and she’s studying at the library and has to keep pushing her glasses back up her nose and she’s tapping her pencil on her chin 

Courtney: and he can’t help but SAY SOMETHING cause she’s pretty ya know but also cause she’s currently reading the only copy of the book he needs 

Courtney: and she’s like ha good luck cause this poet guy doesn’t make any sense 

Courtney: and of course Bucky understands it 

Courtney: but poetry isn’t her major, she just has to read it for like this one class she has to take so she can get her teaching degree 

Courtney: he’s all knowledgeable in poetry and junk and she just… doesn’t get it. Like at all. And he thinks its adorable. And she’s all “I’m gonna be a history teacher idk why i even need this.”

Courtney: and being the flirt he is, he offers to tutor her 

Courtney: and she knows EXACTLY what he’s doing 

Courtney: says yes anyway  

Courtney: so they start meeting up on Thursdays at the library 

Sam: I support her saying yes anyway 

Sam: bc we get that

Sam: take your chance girl 

Courtney: they spend a couple of hours talking about how this poet dude was annoying and pretentious and a douche and he’s like, “just imagine all this being said but the whitest, richest, most uptight dude you can think of” and she starts to Get It but also thinking of it like that makes it SO FUNNY 

Sam: “oh so he’s just being a spoiled brat?” 

Sam: okay so for how long do they meet at the library? 

Courtney: oh this lasts the rest of their first semester. They met in like September and they get together every Thursday and she invited him to a Halloween party some of her friends are throwing and they accidentally show up in complimenting costumes (probably different Breakfast Club characters cause I’m dumb) and he complains about having to go home for Thanksgiving (she still doesn’t know what kind of a family she comes from) and they text the whole break and when they get back they hang out so much more than just on Thursdays and by the time Christmas rolls around, they get each other the sweetest gifts right before they leave for break and standing in the train station (they’re both taking trains home but going different directions), he realizes how long he’s gonna be without her and they’re both getting kinda choked up, more than you would if you had to leave a friend for a nearly month and they’re making all these promises to call and text and “maybe I’ll write you?” and after like the nineteenth hug, 

Courtney: he realizes that the girl he’s been halfway in love with since the fall maybe likes him back? the girl he’s been opening his jacket to tucking her against him to shield her from the “stupidly cold” wind. the girl that shares her candy corn and bring him hot chocolate when the temperature drops below 40. the girl who reads poetry books that he recommends cause he just KNOWS that if he finds the right style, she’ll fall in love with it. the girl that he spends so much time with that he knows which colors mean what on her color coded notes. the girl that he helped bandage up when she was too busy staring at a dog to notice the raised pavement and when she tripped, he felt it in his chest. the girl that tells him that she knows he deserves better than the hurt he carries in his eyes. the girl that doesn’t know anything about his past, but knows him. the girl he feels so lucky to be around. that girl. she’s looking at him right now like it hurts her like it does him to part ways. and maybe he realizes then that he has a chance? so he musters up just enough courage to press a kiss to her forehead and walk her to her train. as he watches her disappear down the tracks, he decided that when he sees her again after the new year, he’ll take her to a museum or a planetarium or a park or something, and he’ll ask her to take a chance on him.

Courtney: (he doesn’t get the chance because when she asks for his address to send him a Christmas card, she really drives up to Brooklyn from Boston just to give him a New Years kiss. his parents aren’t home (to his relief) but Becca absolutely adores her)

Sam: ummmmmm

Sam: that’s gorgeous 

Sam: and so so so heart wrenching 

Sam: but SHE DRIVES TO BOSTON 

Courtney: it’s only like 200 miles yeah 

Sam: only 

Sam: for a kiss 

Sam: that’s a lot 

Sam: for a FIRST kiss at that 

Courtney: okay I should clarify 

Sam: yes please do 

Courtney: she get there at like 7:30pm and he answers the door and he’s so happy to see her but he’s like “?? why are you here?” and she’s blushing and “well I wanted to talk to you... in private...” which makes Bucky look over at Becca who’s 15 and standing at the other end of the foyer. “It’s my house too.” And he just rolls his eyes and takes his girl outside cause that’s not the fight he wants to have rn. anyway so they go walk through the garden and it’s all so pretty cause the Christmas lights are still up and the stars are out. “what do you have to talk to me about that’s so urgent that you couldn’t wait until next week and had to drive 200 miles instead of just calling me?” he’s all smiles. “I, um... I wanted to tell you that I uh... I think I like you? Like a lot? No, I know I do. And I have, for a while. And I can’t it out of my head, when you kissed my forehead at the station, and I KNOW that sounds ridiculous and childish but I can’t stop thinking about it and how maybe you like me too and yeah sure that could’ve waited but I needed to KNOW cause to be perfectly honest, I’d really like to be your New Years kiss this year, which again, dumb and childish but I do and so I didn’t really think, I just decided to take a chance. I’m sure I’m making a complete fool of myself right now too, like that idiot poet we read about in September but you told me something once about stepping out of your comfort zone and taking chances and so that’s what I’m doing, I’m taking your advice, so you really have no one else to blame here but yourself and-“ he finally just puts a hand over her mouth cause he can tell she’s working herself up into a frenzy. When she finally looks up at him, he’s smiling. He takes his hand away, “you came a few hours early for a New Years kiss” And for some reason that embarrasses her more than anything else has. “Ugh I know I just, I just couldn’t wait any more. I paced around my parents house for three hours and spent another two in this diner once I got to town. Think I would’ve gone mad if I waited any longer.” He laughs and tells her “well it’s...” a quick glance at his watch “7:59pm right now. It’s midnight somewhere.” And even though he takes his time, and she knows what he’s about to do, the kiss still surprises her.

Sam: I’m screaming 

Sam: “It’s midnight somewhere” 

Sam: I can imagine Becca totally seeing all this happen from the window

Sam: keeping quiet bc “that was kinda sweet I guess” 

Sam: okay okay okay even if you don’t write this part i gotta know 

Sam: what happens after New Years? 

Courtney: Oh after New Years, they’re disgusting. STUPIDLY in love and constant heart eyes and “darling/baby/doll/sweetheart/honey” and they’re ALWAYS TOUCHING. like, hugging all the time and holding hands and tucking hair behind her ear and linking pinkies and he always has an arm around her shoulder and it’s all adorable and innocent and TOOTH ACHINGLY SWEET. she reads to him and plays with his hair (braids it when it gets long enough) and laughs at all his jokes and just adores him. he cooks her dinner a lot and carries her books and takes pictures of her and gives so many sweet kisses on her forehead, temple, nose, chin and (finally) mouth and just adores her.

Courtney: he picks her flowers in the spring when they have a picnic by a pond and she ties them together into a crown and puts it on him. that night, he takes one and presses it into the back of the book she gave him for his birthday

Sam: I love this so much 

Sam: he wears the flower crown 

Sam: and rocks it 

Courtney: she meets his parents at his birthday party. they insist on throwing this big party every year and this is the first year since he was like 10 that he actually enjoys it. she wears this pretty floral dress and curls her hair and just about knocks the breath out of him when he opens the door. she’s nervous and he squeezes her hand as they walk up to them. all she really remembers is Bucky introducing them and the way her mom smiles and says “so you’re the one that got him to finally shave that hobo scruff” and thing is, she wanted him to keep it cause she loved the expression on his face when he saw how it turned her skin red but he insisted on shaving it for a job interview (that his parents didn’t know about) but Bucky saves her from clarifying by saying that he’s going to take her to get something to drink. they drink punch that turns their mouths red and stay huddled together giggling in the corner (Bucky was doing his best impression of Mr. Harris from his dads company) until his mother comes and insists that he comes and mingles with company people cause in her mind, Bucky will be joining his father soon. Bucky tells his girl to meet him at the pond behind the house in half an hour before being dragged off

Sam: the look of “help me” as he’s walking away but like his ma is talking so much and his gal tells him to pay attention and he just winks before giving her this ridiculously gorgeous grin 

Sam: her and becca chat a little more and she introuced her to their grandmother bc grandma Barnes couldn’t wait another second more 

Courtney: I love Grandma Barnes 

Sam: boo me too 

Sam: literally her and his gal get on like a hose on fire and she completely forgets to meet him and he appears after waiting five minutes 

Sam: his hands rest on her shoulders and he looks between them “see you two seem to be having a ball”  

“oh we are” 

“I was just telling this sweetheart about your 11th birthday party, do you remember that one James?” 

Courtney: “There was a petting zoo incident.” 

#this is embarrassing #but here it is #bucky barnes #bucky barns x reader #bucky barnes imagine #i hate that #marvel #40s bucky #college bucky #Sebastian Stan #concepts #mine #courtney talks